peace_n_war | Room 315, Wednesday Early Evening

"Hey, dad. It's Warren again. I'm starting to wonder if you even have room on your answering machine anymore, but hey, at least if you've run out by now you won't have to listen through three or four lifetimes of me phoning you like this someday, huh? I'm sixteen still, but not for long. Seventeen tomorrow, dad! I've still got that job at the cafe, and I'm still hanging out with that girl I mentioned last time. She's been trying to get me to go swimming with her. Weird, huh? Me. Swimming. I don't even like the beach, except that I can throw fire around. Other than that, seventeen doesn't seem like it's going to be much different than sixteen was. I'm, uh, still not a villain. Not really a hero either, don't worry. I think I want to call Mom sometime, too, but I can actually talk to her. She'll want to know all that stuff I've been telling you, dad. Asking about girls and school and if I've followed in your footsteps and become a criminal mastermind, and if I have then I'm grounded for life. Thanks loads, Mom, right? ... Seventeen tomorrow."

...

"I miss you dad."

Warren hung up his phone, sighed, and reached for a book. Seventeen, sixteen, whatever. Wasn't like any of it made any difference either way.

[Open post is open! I probably won't be about tomorrow for a job interview, so Warren gets to birthday whine today.]

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"Well, as much as eating worms appeals to me," he joked, "I'd go with destroying stuff. That way, I can take pride in my work and not have my stomach hate me."

"And then take offense when it doesn't get pinned up to the fridge," Warren mused. "I like it."

"Which could just lead into door slamming and I know I'm good at that," Lee said. "We make good plans together. Like an evil braintrust."

"Don't know what I'm going to do when you graduate, man. I'll end up having to share my room with, like, someone who isn't evil." Warren smirked. "That would be sad."

"But it'd give you someone to glower at!" Lee pointed out. "And you could melt crayons into their bed."

"Well, that on its own might make things worthwhile." Warren tilted his head upward, and then laughed a little and sat himself up again. "Maybe I'll even get a roomie I can force-feed worms to. You have to earn their fear early, really. I missed the ball on that one with you."

"Because I was here first and I've dealt with scarier," he said. "Not that you aren't scary but you aren't my dad. Man puts the fear of the gods into me sometimes."

"You know," Warren mused, sitting up again and resting his elbows on his knees, "I'm pretty sure that's what dads are supposed to be for anyhow."

"Yeah, it's in that secret dad handbook, I bet," Lee agreed. "Right under 'how to glare effectively' and 'punishment techniques for the active father' or something."

"My dad had the glare part mastered. I think it's hereditary, actually. I had to get mine from somewhere." Warren actually sounded pretty proud of that fact. "And punishment techniques? Yeah. Let's just say you don't mess around with a dad who has a secret hideout. You never know what kind of kid torture he's got hiding in there. Extra homework, broccoli..."

The guy was evil, sure, but he hadn't really been a bad dad.

"See, my dad was away a lot so the punishment tended to fall to my mom who just sort of yelled and grounded us," he said. "It wasn't all that effective because I'd just sneak out later. When my dad was home, it was glaring and lectures and all that. Still not effective."

"Fandom was Mom's punishment for me. Dad probably would have come up with something better than boarding school, but it's hard to punish your kid from solitary." The brain-to-mouth filter wasn't working so well, anyhow. "Mom's not so great at punishments. Clearly."

That...was some new information. One Lee filed away, deciding not to press too much at the current moment. No need to have Warren shut down.

"But, did you think it was a pretty good punishment at first?" Lee asked. "It started out as a punishment and got better."

"Hated it here," Warren agreed with a shrug. "I was just getting used to my last school. I actually didn't hate everyone I knew. Made friends, even. And then around here it was right back to square one. Left my job behind. Stuff like that."

"New schools are a bitch," he agreed. "And I don't think parents understand how hard they are. But yeah, build all that up only to have it wrecked. Takes some time to rebuild."

"And I guess you could kind of say that I'm not really a people-person," Warren added dryly. "What is it with people around here wanting to hang off of the guys who really, really don't want the attention, anyhow?"

"I think some people think they can change you," Lee said. "And when I say you, I mean in general terms, not you specifically. And maybe there's the mystery factor."

"Mystery factor," Warren echoed. "If I'd known people were going to hang off of me if they thought I was mysterious, I would have... I don't know. Worn brighter clothes or something."

He made a face at that. "But then they'd think I was being inviting or something."

"I can't picture you as a really yellow sort of guy either," Lee said. "Maybe a dark orange but and dark reds but yeah, nothing bright."

"Dark orange is a good one," Warren noted. "And I wear reds anyhow. Maybe what I really need is a sign or something warning people that if they get too close, I'm prone to spontaneously combusting. Not pretty, really."

He grinned. "Then I'd have to start lighting myself on fire every now and again to make it believable."

Room 315, Wednesday Early Evening

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