Warren Peace

It had been a full week, now, since Warren's last class, and he was getting... Antsy. There had been too much to take in over this past semester, and the zombies were what drove it all home.

He'd been dead. He'd cracked enough to phone his mother, and she'd been leaving messages on his phone ever since, noting that he'd sounded upset, somehow. He'd been ignoring those messages. Not calling her back. For all it was nice to know that his mother actually had the capacity to step away from her work to take a moment to give a damn about her kid, he hadn't been in the mood.

But tonight? Warren was in the mood. His cell phone rang, and he answered it, and he actually had a serious discussion with her, about anything and everything. About school, both Sky High and Fandom High. About friends back home- he wasn't surprised to hear that Will and Layla were 'going steady,' or whatever. They were all squishy like that. He spoke to his mother about how much he missed his dad, and how much he missed his job at the Paper Lantern, and about the job he had here, at Cafe Fina.

And then he'd mentioned the zombies.

It was a good deal more talking before his mother suggested that he come home. And after all of that talking, Warren could only agree. He'd done his time in boarding school. He was alive. And maybe he didn't want to be a hero, but that never meant that he didn't want to have one for a mom.

[Open-ish. Warren is going to be around at least until Sunday to take his last shift at Cafe Fina, but consider this the beginning of the end, for him. He's had a good run, and it's almost time for him to go home.]

"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.]

Homecoming. If there was anything that antisocial Warren Peace did not want to be a part of, it was the big social gathering known as homecoming. Just another excuse for a bunch of social kids to dress up and socialize. Socially.

Warren wasn't the sort, really, so he was perfectly content with the notion that he might end up with the room all to himself for a nice, quiet evening.

Besides, all the crazy people tended to show up at school dances, anyhow.

[Expecting someone, but open post is open for before the great heist!]