I wrote this story for my English class, using about seven of my vocab words(it was required) And though I got a good grade on the paper, I still left the teacher confused. Heh.
Rooftop Ponderings
PsychoChick
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is not mine, it belongs to Weiss.
Note: Okay, I have to point this out now. Does anyone remember when all you had to put at the top of a story was the title, your name and a disclaimer, with maybe a note, if you wanted? I mean, look at what's above this. It's almost longer than the bloody fic!
"You shouldn't smoke those," Yoji told Ken, who turned to his friend, as he joined him on the room of the shop.
"Oh, really, Mr. Hypocrite?" he responded, pointing at the blond's own cigarette. "And why is that?"
"Well, let's see, what did Omi say earlier? Oh, yeah: 'The tobacco and nicotine in one of those is as toxic as eating a bag of plant fertilizer!'"
Both young men grimaced at the thought.
"That analogy's a bit off," Yoji finally said. "Fertilizer's not addictive."
"That's Omi-logic for you, though," the brunette said. "And it's not like I smoke them all the time. Unlike a certain, blonde playboy--"
"Hey!"
"--Who worships them like any other idolatry religion."
"I don't worship them," Yoji sniffed. "I worship women. Cigarettes just happen to be included in the equation."
"That sounds a bit fallacious, Yoji," Ken grinned. "Women won't kill you."
There was silence from the other man, and Ken glanced at his co-worker. The taller man was staring off into space, cigarette hanging from loose fingers.
"Not if you kill them first," Yoji said quietly, dropping the cigarette off the roof onto the sidewalk, before climbing back into the house.
**Owari**
'Nother note: I justify Ken smoking from a pic I saw from episode fourteen. It didn't look like the thing was lit, but dammit, it was between his lips, so there. Nyah.
Rooftop Ponderings
PsychoChick
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is not mine, it belongs to Weiss.
Note: Okay, I have to point this out now. Does anyone remember when all you had to put at the top of a story was the title, your name and a disclaimer, with maybe a note, if you wanted? I mean, look at what's above this. It's almost longer than the bloody fic!
"You shouldn't smoke those," Yoji told Ken, who turned to his friend, as he joined him on the room of the shop.
"Oh, really, Mr. Hypocrite?" he responded, pointing at the blond's own cigarette. "And why is that?"
"Well, let's see, what did Omi say earlier? Oh, yeah: 'The tobacco and nicotine in one of those is as toxic as eating a bag of plant fertilizer!'"
Both young men grimaced at the thought.
"That analogy's a bit off," Yoji finally said. "Fertilizer's not addictive."
"That's Omi-logic for you, though," the brunette said. "And it's not like I smoke them all the time. Unlike a certain, blonde playboy--"
"Hey!"
"--Who worships them like any other idolatry religion."
"I don't worship them," Yoji sniffed. "I worship women. Cigarettes just happen to be included in the equation."
"That sounds a bit fallacious, Yoji," Ken grinned. "Women won't kill you."
There was silence from the other man, and Ken glanced at his co-worker. The taller man was staring off into space, cigarette hanging from loose fingers.
"Not if you kill them first," Yoji said quietly, dropping the cigarette off the roof onto the sidewalk, before climbing back into the house.
**Owari**
'Nother note: I justify Ken smoking from a pic I saw from episode fourteen. It didn't look like the thing was lit, but dammit, it was between his lips, so there. Nyah.