[ The truth of it is his smoking died off tremendously sometime in his mid twenties, from a purely comparative standpoint. It became more of a once or twice a month with his TA kind of habit, right up until the end of the world. Luke may be one of the smartest humans Ian's ever met, it's a crying fucking shame he didn't believe in his ability to succeed as much as Ian did. Not that it wound up mattering, of course, but his brain found other fantastic applications in the form of a - setting up amazing (often too severe in Ian's opinion) perimeter defenses and b - cross-breeding marijuana in a greenhouse made primarily of plastic sheeting. God bless him. The hours between 9 p.m. and 7 a.m. were the fuck it hours, and there's surprisingly little to do sans electricity or metal.
Also, Ian's coping mechanisms were shit. Largely still are. ]
Gesundheit.
[ He says lightly, because he's never heard of thuốc lào and it's a classic, timeless joke.
Impossible to miss that expression considering how raptly Ian's studying him for a reaction; interesting that he seems to find more displeasure in that than Ian's ever seen him have knocking back any kind of hard liquor. ]
Is it a taste thing or a throat thing?
[ That expression; asked while holding a hand out to relieve Nate of his burden. ]
no subject
Also, Ian's coping mechanisms were shit. Largely still are. ]
Gesundheit.
[ He says lightly, because he's never heard of thuốc lào and it's a classic, timeless joke.
Impossible to miss that expression considering how raptly Ian's studying him for a reaction; interesting that he seems to find more displeasure in that than Ian's ever seen him have knocking back any kind of hard liquor. ]
Is it a taste thing or a throat thing?
[ That expression; asked while holding a hand out to relieve Nate of his burden. ]