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Deck | Afternoon | Friday | April 22

Even if it was chillier than previous days, Nathan wasn't going to let that stop him from eating an ice cream cone he'd picked up in town. He'd only had a few bucks on him and ended up having to make the devastatingly difficult choice between ice cream and alcohol. In the end, he'd given his liver a break for the afternoon and gone with the ice cream.

Now, his long limbs were sprawled lazily in a chair, feet up and eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. The clouds overhead would protect his fair skin from a burn even if he hadn't been wearing a soft hoodie and jeans. It was chilly but he was comfortable. He felt good.

Nathan would have liked to say he'd been busy thinking about important things but really, his mind was a complete blank save for the occasional explicit mental image that popped in there. Hey, he was a guy and that happened. He made no apologies for his dirty nature.

[Open deck so open, yes]

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"Not really," Warren replied, huffing out another vague idea of a laugh before looking back toward Nathan. "My dad's so self-absorbed that he named his only son after himself. The only time he dares to associate with anyone lower on the social ladder than him is when the press is involved."

And such was the power of the daddy issue.

"But then, if your dad is anything like mine otherwise, maybe it's for the best if they never meet. They might get ideas, or something."

The mention of names made Nathan remember something they hadn't done yet. Leaning forward, he offered his hand up. "Nathan Young, mate. Sorry to hear your dad's such a prick. I know how that feels even if mine's just not around. And really, I'm fine with that too. I don't want his sorry arse around me."

Oh, wow. Warren cocked a grin as he leaned in to shake Nathan's hand right on back.

"Warren Worthington. The Third." Because unoriginal self-absorbed fathers apparently ran in Warren's family. "What is it with dads, anyhow? It seems like most of the people I've met around here either have no dad, or a pretty crappy one."

Daddy issues made the world go 'round? Nathan snickered at the thought and shook his head.

"I guess it's the perfect setup for some teenage angst, isn't it?" Nathan guessed, making a face. "Take the dad out of the picture and boom, instant teenage melodrama that fucks you up whether you like it or not. It's a shitty way to do things."

"Keeps things interesting? I guess that's one way to look at it," Warren mused. "But like you said... It's shitty. But at least with any luck it'll be a good way to make sure that we're careful not to be as bad at it, if we ever grow up to be dads ourselves."

Warren wasn't exactly in a hurry to do any of that. That said, he was pretty fond of the kids that he'd ended up with, on that weekend where they'd all crashed the island.

"Oh god, the kid that showed up for me was a demon," Nathan said, laughing before he thought to say, "Not an actual demon. She just had...her mother's attitude. It was kind of fucking scary, to be honest."

"Oh, man. I don't think either of my kids were all that bad, but I'm still not sure what the boy's real name was," Warren replied, biting his lip to stifle a grin. "I really don't think my girlfriend and I would have really named a kid 'Nommy.'"

Though, just as long as it wasn't 'Warren,' he probably would have been okay with that.

"...wow, that's almost as bad as my kid, name wise," Nathan shared with a snort of laughter. "It was pronounced Kiva but it had all kinds of random letters in there. She spelled it once and I felt like I'd just taken a math test afterward."

"I'm... trying to come up with silent letters to stick in that name now," Warren admitted, raising his eyebrows a little. "I'm picturing, like, an H and a bunch of Es and maybe a Y or two for good measure."

Kheeyvea? Keehvhayayayayah...?

"Oh mate, it's even worse," he said and tried to remember how that kid's name had been spelled. "C-A-I-O-M-H-E. And that is one hundred percent honesty right there. It's apparently an Irish name which fits since I am but wow."

Warren was staring. That didn't even make sense!

"Gaelic is so, so freaking weird."

"It is, mate," Nathan laughed, unable to stop himself. "She was kinda cute though but bossy as all get out. I was not sad to see her go though. Her mum and dad are...saints for dealing with her all day."

"Maybe it's the name. I'd be pretty nuts, too, if my name had a silent M in it."

A silent M that was pronounced as a V. Seriously.

Yeah, Nathan had no idea either.

"Her mum and I could not figure out where the name came from," Nathan admitted with a laugh. "Caroline insists she had to be drugged or something. Which would mean I'd have come up with the name and I can barely spell Nathan sometimes so...I doubt it was me."

"Maybe there was something on TV? Or a relative came up with it, or you just walked into a bar in Ireland and offered drinks to the first person to help you name your kid," Warren suggested. "Or maybe she made it up, and was telling you her name was that just to mess with your head."

"Well, both their names started with a C," Nathan said like he was just now realizing that. "I think you might be on the right track with that last one. I'm always getting blamed for shit when it's only my fault like a seventy five percent of the time! That's still a quarter of the time when I'm the innocent victim!"

"It's a very important quarter," Warren laughed, shaking his head. "People should stop going with the odds and at least give you the benefit of being innocent until proven guilty, right?"

"Where have you been all my life, Warren?" Nathan wondered, snickering. "I could have used you in the many arguments where blame's automatically assigned to me because I'm, well, me!"

"What you need is to start hanging out with someone else who can take the blame," Warren decided. He was going to be oh-so-helpful today, see? "Somebody whose fault it is eighty percent of the time. That way, you'll look like a completely innocent angel in comparison."

Nodding, Nathan rubbed his chin, trying to think if he knew someone like that. "You're not volunteering for the position, are you? I can't pay you or anything but I'd hire you!"

"It's about my fault... maybe five percent of the time," Warren replied, not quite able to beat the crooked little smile from his face in any case. "I think I have a lot of work to do before I can properly fill that position, but if you're willing to teach me, I might prove to be a half-decent student, at least?"

Well. He'd give it a spirited attempt.

"You actually want me to take you under my wing?" Nathan asked, kind of digging the possibilities this idea could have. "Like, you'd be the grasshopper and I'd be the..."

Was there another bug involved in that analogy? "...praying mantis?"

It was an interesting anaology, Warren had to admit.

"So long as there's no attempting to eat me involved, I think I'd actually be pretty okay with that," he admitted. "Even your story with the ball pit sounded kind of fun. And... I've sort of been living under a rock for most of my life. It would be a nice change of pace, getting into a little trouble."

Preferably the sort of trouble that wouldn't leave his shirt smeared with his own blood, which seemed to be the trend, lately.

"I think we've got an arrangement, Warren," Nathan said and stuck out his hand again. "We'll see about getting you into some trouble that doesn't get us both killed or arrested for something more than a misdemeanor. We don't need to be in jail for longer than a few hours."

Oh. Warren liked the sound of that word. Misdemeanor. It sounded like something that his father would very thoroughly frown upon.

"I don't do so well with being locked up," Warren admitted, reaching to shake Nathan's hand one more time. "But on the upside, bail shouldn't be too much of a problem, for whatever."

Lunch money, really.

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