fight club

Athena wouldn’t say she felt pressured. She did feel, however, that this man wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Maybe she should take that approach on the Animal Rights stall - but then she’d probably be accused of being a ‘crazy vegan’. “You don’t think I have it coming, do you?” A warm smile played on her lips at his use of her new nickname. Her nephews had done some poking at her new hair, not that they could say much with their shockingly ginger hair. Athena grabbed at a piece of cake for herself before offering the tin to him. “It’s vegan chocolate and banana, not that you’d ever know if I hadn’t told you. If I come to one meeting, will that satisfy you and then I can peacefully continue with my life?” Athena asked, though she focused a little more on Caradoc at the mention of Tilden. “Tilden? As in….Toots? I met him just the other day. Okay, maybe I will come then. But I don’t wanna do anything, okay?”

Doc snorted when she asked her question, shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t think you have it coming. Not unless you royaly piss someone off. Even then, it’ll depend on why and how you pissed them off--if they were being an asshole to you, then they absolutely had it coming and you were in your right. If it was the other way around, then that’s purely you.” He paused. “Though I have a feeling you’re not much of an asshole.” Doc took the cake happily and took a bite as she told him what the cake was, shaking his head and swallowing with a satisfied sigh. “I don’t care if it’s vegan or not, really. If it tastes good, then you’ve got my full attention and support. I’m not sure if I’ll be satisfied... maybe if you go to a meeting and throw in another slice of cake.” She seemed to perk up when Tilden’s name was mentioned, and that name alone looked to be what solidified her decision to go to Fight Club. Interesting. “Yeah, as in Toots. Best guy I know. I guess you don’t have to do much, but I’m telling you: getting on the mat will be fun.” He shrugged. “Other than that, feel free to bug the shit out of Tilds.”

Pleased that the water and food for the rabbits was at least set up, Emmeline pauses a moment and wanders over to where Caradoc had been sitting, casting her eyes over his display briefly. She had no need to be worried about what he would come up with, she knew that, but it was nice to actually see all of his hard work in action. It was a straight-forward display; gave the exact information anyone looking would need and Emmeline appreciated that. Something like Fight Club really didn’t need any further explanation beyond its title. 

“The club would fall apart without our expertise,” she says with a laugh, holding Bruce out for Doc to pet, knowing that her rabbit was friendly enough that she wouldn’t mind a stranger. Lucy, on the other hand. Placing Bruce carefully into the run, and watching her begin to explore, Emmeline starts to lift the other rabbits in after her, giggling softly at the way they squirm. “No, they’re really nice. Simple and clean, but still aesthetically pleasing. You should be super proud,” she says, shooting him a wide grin. “I know you would. But I’m good, I swear. I think it helps that all the clubs I’m helping run are pretty good for helping me relax, or at least work through some issues. Sometimes you just have to safely beat up a good friend, you know?”

He laughed with her and reached out to pet Bruce gently, grinning when the rabbit’s ears went back and its eyes closed under his attention. That was adorable, really, and he could see why Emmeline liked the Bunny Club so much. He was personally a dog person, absolutely loved when the school hosted dog therapy sessions for its students, but rabbits were just as good. Bruce was then lowered into the run and began to explore, and Doc watched with faint amusement, forgetting his own stand for a moment. It wasn’t like people needed large explanations over a Fight Club, after all.

“Oh, it would absolutely fall apart without us,” he agreed, shoving his free hand into his pocket and glancing into the cage as Emmeline pulled out more and more rabbits. “Damn, it’s like a clown car in there,” he quipped, glancing up at her with a smirk. “What’s their names? I hope one is named after me. It should be honored if it is, after all.” He glanced back at the board and smiled a bit. “Yeah, I guess I am proud. Still, could be better. Could be worse.” He shrugged, and then snorted. “Beating up a good friend is your way of stress relief? Guess it’s mine too, really. I couldn’t ask for a better sparring partner.”

“You’re welcome.” Amelia’s smirk was wide as she bounced on her heels. Slightly thrilled, thinking she had been clever in her attempts to make fun of Caradoc and Tilden’s relationship. “You can try.” Amelia shrugged, “Edgar’s been trying for years but has consistently failed to weed the good girl out.” Amelia raised an eyebrow as Caradoc began to record the spectacle that was Frank Longbottom at a party. Deciding ultimately not to acknowledge it, afraid to open that can of worms. She just hoped it didn’t wind up on social media, though that might be as fruitless as her trying to chat up Amycus Carrow.

“Talk to him?” Amelia snorted as Caradoc rubbed her arm in encouragement, “That would be logical, right? He’s so smart, I’m not sure I’d actually have anything intelligent…Or at the very least intelligible to say in a conversation with him.” It was better to just sneak into his lectures and be soothed by the sound of his voice. Interrogate Emmeline about her experiences working for him as his teaching assistant. 

As they turned away to face the other direction, Amelia ventured another glance towards the woman she was trying to avoid. Catching her still shooting daggers at them with her eyes. “I’m not surprised, really. I’m just angry I got sent down there when my coworkers knew she is the way she is.” Amelia answered defensively, “I had heard about her with students but I mean, it wasn’t my fault? I know nothing about chemistry anyway.”

“Weed the good girl out, hm?” Doc’s smile slowly widened as he got an idea, a wonderful idea that Amelia would most likely hate and turn him down on, but an idea nevertheless. He reached into his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a blunt he’d prepped for later, but now was as good a time as any, right? “All you need to do is loosen up a little, Ames. I’ve got a perfectly good solution right here. Obviously I won’t pressure you into it, but if you wanna be a rebel, might as well start where everyone insists it does.” 

He frowned as Amelia talked down on herself and turned her to face him fully, face becoming more serious than it usually did. “Hey, listen to me: you’re smart as hell, Amelia Bones. Not many people make it through grad school with the grades you did. Hell, I’ll be surprised if I make it all the way through grad school myself--not that I’m giving up, mind. It’s just very difficult.” He shook his head. “My point is, you could definitely learn a little about philosophy to keep a conversation going. Shit, I might still have some of my old books from when I took the course in undergrad that you can look through. Decartes was pretty chill, or you could just focus on good old fashioned nihilism. That’s philosophical, right?”

“Oh, she’s shooting the messenger?” That sounded about right with what Doc had heard about Alecto Carrow’s reputation; she was temperamental and apparently one of the harshest graders on campus, and rumor had it that she and Antonin Dolohov teamed up to make their students’ lives a living hell. “Sounds like they knew about her and didn’t want to deal with that bullshit. Hopefully she’ll get over it sooner rather than later. No one can hold a grudge forever, right?”

As Athena looked at him, she wasn’t sure she got the vibe of someone who was well and truly interested in martial arts. He had the sort of ‘uninterested in everything’ vibe that she saw from a lot of students around the place, but then…well, he was here running a stall, so he must care at least a little bit. “Well I would well and truly be a beginner, so at least knowing that you’re not going to let me hurt myself is promising,” Athena said optimistically, though she knew in her heart that she wasn’t really going to attend a fight club meeting. She was the last person in the world that would go to a fight club, never mind do well there. “I’m so very weak, I’m convinced someone would knock me out first go. I am pretty good at stretching, and I’m damn flexible though,” Athena hummed, reaching into her bag for the cake tin which still had a few pieces from her time on the stall. “Would you like some cake? I feel bad for wasting your time when I’ll be no good for your club.”

“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt themselves--at least not if they don’t have it coming.” Doc’s eyebrows raised at her lack of confidence, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing it up into the air. “Everyone starts out weak, but it takes practice to make yourself stronger, Pinkie. You’re dismissing it right off the bat, and that’s no bueno. Not in my book.” At least she was flexible, so that was a start. Doc could work with that. He perked up when she pulled out a tin of cake, looking more excited than he probably had the entire time he’d been sitting at the booth. “I’ll definitely take some cake, but I still don’t think you’ll be bad for this club. Just one meeting, Pinkie. You can hang with my best friend if you want--Tilden just sits around and bullshits while Emme and I do the work, the dick.”

“Fine, fine…Tilden and your good time shenanigans?” Amelia offered as a substitute, “Does that seem less harsh?” Amelia took a long pull of her drink as she let her eyes wander around the room. It didn’t seem like many were paying attention to them. Frank Longbottom was making a spectacle of himself as he performed some karaoke on the other side of the room. “You know I never said your schemes were bad…Just that you’re much better at that kind of thing than I am. You know I’m a goody goody at heart.”

“It’s more about me caring about good looking men who care about existentialism?” Amelia sighed woefully, staring at Amycus Carrow’s figure at the bar. With Caradoc’s arm still wrapped around Amelia’s shoulder, she leaned her head against him pitifully. “Does that even make sense?..I’m not very philosophical honestly but I’ve gone to his lectures and he’s just…great at what he does…I’m not certain I learned much though.” 

“Oh my god, stop.” Amelia snorted, laughing loudly into her hand. Her cackling seemed to catch the attention of Alecto Carrow as her eyes suddenly met Amelia’s. She blanched immediately, as she turned both herself and Caradoc to face the other way. “I told you, Doc!” Amelia said, still laughing, “She just knows..And it wasn’t my idea to shoot down her project, I was just the one forced to tell her because she’s a nightmare apparently.”

“Okay, now it just sounds like a shitty band name,” he said, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink. It made sense, sure, but good time shenanigans wasn’t the phrase he’d use. Maybe it was the word shenanigans that was throwing him off. “Less harsh, but still a band name. You wound my pride, Ames.” He glanced over and saw Professor Longbottom performing karaoke rather impressively, though clearly making a spectacle of himself. Doc slowly took out his phone and pressed record, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh I know you are. Doesn’t mean I won’t make a rebel out of you yet. Mark my words, Amelia Bones.”

He rubbed her arm comfortingly as she leaned her head against his shoulder, glancing back at Amycus Carrow and tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Guess that just means you like listening to the guy talk, that’s all. Maybe if you actually talked to the guy, you’d understand what he’s saying better, or at the very least get to know him. That’s kinda what you have to do when you like someone, you know.”

Doc laughed when he got Amelia to, shaking his head and sipping at his drink again. He was distracted enough that being turned to face another direction was a surprise, and he looked at her in confusion until she elaborated on Alecto just knowing. Talk about Beetlejuice indeed. “Ah, shooting the messenger. I’ve always heard bad things about her, mostly that she’s a hardass. I dunno why you’re so surprised, Amelia.”

A bright beaming smile crossed Athena’s lips as he called her Pinkie, and her hand darted to curl a strand of hair around one of her fingers. “So it’s not just….y’know, beating the shit out of each other like in the movie?” Athena asked as she took the flyer gingerly lest she knock him off his chair. She studied it carefully before looking up with a smile. “What evening do you meet? I have Animal Rights on Tuesdays….at least I think it’s Tuesdays, unless they changed it for this year,” Athena asked prematurely, before laughing as he already answered that. “Oops, getting ahead of myself again. I’m not sure its for me, really….I’m the sort of person that wouldn’t hurt a fly. And just look at me - I’m hardly built for fighting. I just wanted to be nice and answer your questions…I’m really better suited to yoga and those sorts of clubs rather than fighting.”

Doc snorted at her question, shaking his head and looking at her with thinly veiled curiosity. She seemed like the opposite of someone who would be interested in joining the Martial Arts club, but it was very possible he was misjudging her. “Nah, we’re more organized than that. Emme and I know martial arts pretty well, so we take beginners and walk them through the basics, lest someone accidentally hurt themself due to bad form. We’re not just gonna send you lot into the ring and say have at it, you know?” He opened his mouth to reanswer her question, but she seemed to catch herself a moment later, and Doc chuckled with her. Animal Rights, huh? It seemed he’d pinned her just right once she said she wouldn’t hurt a fly, but that didn’t stop him from trying with others before. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Everyone can fight, it’s just a matter of practice. Even the most docile people benefit from knowing a bit of self-defense, considering how batshit crazy the world can be.” He set his chair back onto the ground and leaned forward, “Besides, all exercise can help fighting, including yoga. Gotta be flexible to do those high kicks and stretch properly, you know?”

Brushing a loose strand of hair from her eyes, Emmeline huffs out a low breath as she pulls her backpack from her back, shooting Caradoc a look as she did so. Okay, so perhaps she really had overloaded herself, but surely it would settle down once orientation activities were over, right? And at least she hadn’t agreed to be an RA like she had been tempted to. Pulling out the water bottle and food dish from her back, she sets to work attaching them to the wire cage of the run, knowing she should have been fully set up at least twenty minutes ago. 

“It’s almost like I attend every meeting,” Emme says with amusement, getting back to her feet and reaching for the containers of rabbit seed and scrap vegetables. She casts her eyes over how Doc has set up his own booth and shoots him an apologetic smile, knowing she had been no help to him when it came to setting up. “This all looks really good. You’ve done a fantastic” she says warmly, moving to unlock the cat carrier and lifting the first rabbit out. “I’m strained, but not too stretched yet. These little guys help.” 

Doc grinned cheekily at the look Emmeline shot his way, setting his chair back onto its four legs and standing up. Students were looking at his set-up, but most didn’t ask questions, preferring to read the information on the board. Doc understood that; he’d been the same way as a freshman, back when he actually gave a shit about what people thought or what he did. He peered into the cat carrier Emmeline had been carrying and saw the nose of at least one little rabbit poking through the door’s bars, reaching and poking it gently. The rabbit twitched and pulled back a bit, and Doc smirked in amusement before looking up while Emmeline talked.

“Well I can’t go without my favorite sparring partner,” he joked, straightening his posture and stepping back to make room as she grabbed the rabbit that he’d poked. He reached out and pat its head, watching its ears go back and nose twitch wildly, He smiled, thinking that there was something to this bunny club after all. “Well thanks. I wouldn’t consider myself an artist, but it seems to be drawing people in well enough. Maybe we’ll have a few new members this semester after all.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t be strained either, Emme. You know I’ll help you if you ask.”

Amelia pouted. “Is this face better?” she asked, motioning to the miserable look on her face before taking another sip of the now infamous Longbottom punch. “You know I’m not good at these things. You and Tilden are much more talented at…scheming?” The two men were good at doing whatever they did. Whether that be yelling at each other at two am over plants or attempting to crash faculty and staff shindigs. 

Amelia visibly winced. “Doc, can we not call him that?” Her longer suffering crush on a philosophy professor wasn’t exactly something she wanted to broadcast to her coworkers. She had deemed it something to share with Caradoc though when she had made that decision, she had been very inebriated. Automatically, her eyes scanned the crowd, falling on Amycus Carrow’s back to them at the bar, who was seemingly sitting alone. Amelia sighed, jerking her head in the man’s general direction, “He’s over there at the bar.” 

“Don’t speak too loudly about it though..” Amelia admonished, suddenly looking a little sheepish, “I feel like whenever I talk about him…His sister suddenly appears out of nowhere. It’s like she knows.” Amelia paused for a moment, considering how that might sound slightly paranoid. “I’ve talked with her about research funding before…She hates me.”

Doc laughed at the horrifically miserable expression Amelia showed him, shaking his head and raising his cup a bit higher. “You look much better, yes. More your usual self, if your usual self is being completely displeased with the world.” He brought the cup to his lips and took a long sip; whoever had made the punch hadn’t gone light on the alcohol. He had to remember to find out who was responsible and thank them. “Excuse you, we do not scheme, that makes us sound like ingrates.” Doc tilted his head forward as if to say, how could you suggest that? “We simply make plans for the whole campus to have fun. That’s all.”

He snorted when Amelia winced and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “What, no one knows who I’m talking about. Besides, you certainly think he’s dreamy, so I think the nickname is accurate.” Doc looked up and over to where Amelia gestured, eyes widening a bit when he realized who, exactly, Amelia had been crushing on for god knew how long. He knew how to be discreet, though, and lowered his voice to say, “A philosopher? Really? Never thought you’d be for existentialism Ames, but whatever floats your boat.”

The mention of Carrow’s sister, however, gave him pause, and Doc glanced up again, finding the other Carrow being a wallflower and looking up to no good. “What, like Beetlejuice? Shit, that’s rough. What, did you personally make sure she didn’t get funding for her research?”

Her shift on the Animal Rights stall had come to a swift finish with a few new sign ups which was super promising. Now it was her turn to wander around - her course was pretty full on and her work with the Animal Rights club didn’t leave much time for anything else, but if there was something that caught her eye - well, investigating it couldn’t hurt, right? The Martial Arts club was mildly intriguing, and having a bit of self-defence couldn’t hurt. Someone behind her was clearing their throat at her leisurely pace asking her to get a move on, but then a man at the stall by her side addressed her and she stopped dead. “Fight Club? I thought the first rule of fight club is don’t talk about fight club?” Athena quipped with a cheeky smile. “I’m not sure I’m really cut out for fight club, but what does it entail?”

Doc’s lips quirked up in appreciation, and he nodded, head tilting curiously as he registered who she was. It was hard not to recognize the bright pink hair that he saw walking around campus, after all, but he’d never caught her name. It was no matter, really , since he could define her by her hair alone. He was sure that was how she wanted to be known, anyway (read: definitely not, but he didn’t care). “You’ve got that right at least, Pinkie,” Doc said, grabbing a flyer from the table--hard to do when he was still tilted back on his chair--and handing it to her. “But we can talk about this one. We meet once a week at the rec center and go over defensive techniques. Depending on your skill, sometimes we’ll let our members duke it out for the hell of it. Safely, obviously, Emme and I don’t need a lawsuit on our hands, but it’s still fun. Our first meeting is Wednesday night if you wanna check it out.”

Keeping one hand firmly on the cat carrier at her side, Emmeline tilts her head down and moves as quickly as she can without outright running. Why she had agreed to help out at the Activities Fair when she was already overloaded, she would never know. Between having to set up the booth for the ‘Organisation for the Reduction of Student Stress’, less formally known as ‘Bunny Club’, which she still hadn’t done, and sticking her head in to make sure that the Comic Club booth hadn’t just turned into Benjy reading comics and ignoring people, she was already beginning to feel the strain.

Placing the carrier on the empty table, turning to see if they had set up the rabbit run like she had asked, Emmeline catches a glimpse of a familiar face beside her, cigarette already in his lips. Clearing her throat, she raises an eyebrow in amusement, beginning to catch her breath. “I’m not sure. Here I was thinking that I already knew about it.”

Doc grinned when he saw Emmeline set her carrier down on the empty table beside his, pulling the cigarette from his lips and lowering his chair closer to the ground (though not quite on all fours). The woman was overloaded with clubs and other extracurricular activities, so much so that Doc wasn’t sure how she managed it all in addition to her classes and work as a TA. If it had been Doc, he would have gone nuts by that point. 

“I’d say you know a bit about it, yeah,” he replied easily, glancing toward the students who looked at the tri-fold he’d set up and talked among each other about what he’d put. It wasn’t the most creative board by far, but Doc liked to think he could draw enough to get by; he was especially proud of the two figures fighting that he’d put onto the center of the fold. “How are you doing, Queen of All Clubs? Don’t stretch yourself thin.”

WHO: { open }​ WHERE: Student Union Building WHEN: mid-afternoon, August 27th

The Ravenwood Broadcasting Network’s booth was a hot commodity to his peers - new students were always interested in getting involved with the campus radio & cable stations, and it was a free marketing opportunity for anyone with their own show already. Tilden would’ve been stupid not to volunteer for it, sneaking bites of his peanut butter & jelly sandwich as he watched crowds of freshmen begin to shove past the doors and unfurl across the building, loitering along the perimeters as the ambient volume rose immediately.

Tilden’s approach with freshmen out in the wild of campus was always the same; a firm grip to the shoulder, lots of eye contact, and a touch of over-enthusiasm in his tone that only a resident advisor could muster was usually enough to placate a caught freshman into a calm enough state to get them to sign his clipboard, receive a piece of candy & a brochure, before being sent on their merry way. He was deep in the throes of the crowd, hunting for victims close enough to his booth.

“You there! Yes, you. No, hey, don’t look away from me!” Tilden’s already has a lollipop and pamphlet in hand, shoving them toward the poor recipient of his attention before turning to reach for the clipboard with the sign up list attached, hopefully quickly enough his target didn’t get away.

His hand reached out and caught his target’s shoulder super duper casually, steering them back towards his booth as Tilden began speaking as fast as he could, “Have you heard about RBN? The school’s radio and cable network? The shit that’s always playing on the little TVs around campus because we couldn’t afford MTV’s licensing rights?” His ramble doesn’t stop as he pointed at the pamphlet, still maintaining too much eye contact for the person to look away, “You’ll see right… there, yeah, the 2 AM slot - thats’a me! Roots & Shoots with Tilden Toots, every morning at two, for all your late night botanical needs. The school needed at least one educational show for grant funding and, uh, I was the only volunteer. But that could change!” 

“Anyway, we would love if you’d sign up for our newsletter, or better yet, here’s a list of all the shows we currently have and what time they air, as well as information on how to submit for your own show, if that’s something you’d be interested in! Did you have any questions?” 

Doc had been away from his booth for five minutes max before he heard a familiar voice behind him, shouting at the freshmen that passed to get them to join the RBN. He smirked and shook his head; Tilden was his best friend, but damn if he wasn’t overenthusiastic. He was about to pull out a cigarette when a hand clasped onto his shoulder, and suddenly Doc was being spun around by none other than Tilden Toots himself, being led back the way he came while Tilden delivered a spiel that he’d probably said too many times in the past few hours. 

What was most amusing, Doc mused as Tilden went on, was that he must have been doing this so much that he wasn’t even registering who he was grabbing, just that he had someone and that they were at the activity fair. He waited for Tilden to stop, took out his cigarette and lit it, then put it to his lips as he laughed and shook his head. “I guess I have one question, yeah,” he said as he exhaled smoke, shifting his weight onto one leg and smirking at the man. “How does it feel to have wasted a perfectly good pitch on someone who’s been effectively banned from the network? Let alone someone who already knows what the hell you’re on about. Pay attention next time, dumbass.”

WHO: Amelia & @caradxcdearbcrn WHERE: Faculty/Staff Party, The Leaky Cauldron WHEN: August 30th

Amelia was nothing if not a stickler for the rules, a byproduct of having a mother who was a primary school teacher and a father who was a lawyer. That’s why, sneaking someone who was definitely not a faculty or staff member into a party that was exclusively for said people, made her feel a little uneasy, panicky even.

It had all started with a harmless run in at the student involvement fair, pure happenstance as Caradoc and Amelia hadn’t exactly made plans to see each other that day. A brief mention of this event suddenly morphed into Caradoc spending the afternoon trying to coax Amelia into bringing him as a plus one. A lot of buttering up aside, Amelia had finally grown tired of the conversation and agreed he could come but only if he was on his best behavior.

Amelia had been able to stealthily let Caradoc in through a back door and, thankfully, no one had seemed to notice a graduate student lurking among their ranks. Amelia silently prayed that any of the professors from the anthropology department would either not care or be too drunk to care. The Longbottoms’ punch was especially strong tonight anyway.

“See?” Amelia sighed, anxiously taking a sip from her cup, “Actually, no. There’s not much to see here as your professors are just like you.” Amelia paused as her eyes caught one of the English professors from across the pub, excitedly pulling off one of his shoes and holding it up to his ear. “They’re a little out of touch, maybe?”

Amelia was truly a godsend.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected his afternoon of pestering to actually crack Amelia, but here they were. Doc had heard that Longbottom parties were something you had to see to believe, but since he wasn’t staff or faculty he’d never had a way in--at least, not one that didn’t involve breaking-and-entering. Doc wanted the law with him, not against him. When she finally cracked Doc had let out a holler of victory and did exactly what she said, showing up at the back door to the Leaky Cauldron and sneaking his way in without anyone being the wiser.

Well, they’d be none the wiser if Amelia didn’t look five seconds from a panic attack.

Doc rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around her shoulders companionably after grabbing a cup of the punch, looking toward the English professors and the shoes being pulled off for whatever reason. “Definitely out of touch,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ve got to relax, Ames, or we’ll actually get caught. You have anxiety written all over your face.” He took a sip of his punch and glanced around the room, mischief creeping onto his face. “How about this: where’s Professor Dreamy? You can only hear someone moon about a guy a number of times before needing to see what he looks like.”

Caradoc wasn’t sure why he was the one to be manning the Fight Club booth at the activities fair. He was a grad student, he literally had to spend extra money to keep himself in the club (thank you, financial aid) and yet none of their undergrad students could stand at a booth for a few hours to advertise their club to the incoming freshmen. Doc sighed and leaned back his chair onto its back two legs, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He’d have to find Tilden later and bug him for more weed, but for now a cigarette would suffice. He took a long drag and tilted his head back, exhaling and watching the smoke float away into the sky. After a moment of watching the sky he heard someone clear their throat, and Doc tilted his head back down to look at them, chair still tilted back. “Wanna know about Fight Club, or nah?”