fandomhighdorms | The Roof, Saturday Evening

Entry tags:

The Roof, Saturday Evening

After spending the last bit of his vacation hiding from the world and clinging to his laptop, it was time for Tony to brave the world again. And pray no one remembered he got drunk and puked on a tree.

It was all Bobby's fault anyway.

So he was going to get a bit of fresh air up on the roof before going to his lab for the rest of his life. It was for the best, really.

[[Open like a roof!]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I think wherever Bobby is involved, things like friendship are kind of intuitive," Warren shared. "I found out that I was his friend... before I actually knew his name."

Which had been an interesting introduction to the whole alternate-reality thing but Warren wasn't complaining.

"You too?"

"Me too," Warren confirmed with a laugh. "I was at the welcome picnic, and suddenly there's this guy calling me 'War' and kind of tackling me for a hug. I had no idea what in the world to make of it."

"I've got you beat," Tony replied. "Another me was on the island and owned a business."

"Yeah?" Okay, Warren was fairly impressed, there. "Which business?"

Warren really couldn't boast having had a double on-island, no. But apparently some teacher had done an entire lecture on him once, before he'd ever shown up. That was kind of weird.

...weeeeeird.

"It's called Fixer Uppers now, but it was Stark Industries."

"That's one heck of a name change," Warren noted, bemused. And then, a moment later, he quirked his head to the side curiously. "Stark Industries, huh? We have one of those back home, too, actually." A pause, and then he laughed a bit. "I'm a Worthington, actually."

Because if his timeline or reality or whatever it was had Stark, it was entirely possible that Tony's had the Worthingtons.

Tony laughed at that. "Really? I knew there was someone my age from the family, but--wow."

"Wow, indeed." Warren ducked his head a little, grinning some more. "What are the odds that we'd both end up here, huh?"

Different timelines or not, Fandom seemed to be collecting big name millionaire brats. Weird.

There was a pause, and then he added, a little more awkwardly, "We don't really talk about the wings back home, though."

Because having a mutant in the family could devastate a company with a name like his.

"I've never met him to know if he has wings too," Tony admitted. "I didn't go to school before here."

They probably would have been at the same super elite boarding school if that was the case.

"Home schooling?" Warren quirked a little smile. "Me too, but I guess there are other Warrens in other realities who haven't been."

He made a face at that.

"So, so many of them. It's weird."

Very weird.

"If it helps, I'm almost used to people staring at me when I mention my name."

"Like you're completely not what they were expecting?" Warren shrugged, and then laughed a little all over again. "I don't get as much of that, anymore. There were people for a little while who were worried when they learned my name but couldn't see my wings hidden under my coat."

Which he was kind of starting to regret not bringing up here. Brr.

"I guess they'd be expecting somebody older, if another you owned a company here, huh?"

"Exactly! Mr. Rogers asked me if I was a clone when he first met me." Which, um, weird?

"Weird," Warren decided, blinking. "My big sibling remembered about me from some lecture that one of her classes had on superhuman physiology. But no teacher ever accused me of being a clone or anything."

Though the Vice Principal had warned him about the color blue. That had been kind of odd, in its own special way.

The Vice Principal was a freak.

"About the--" Tony waved vaguely at him. "Wings?"

"Yeah," Warren confirmed. "Apparently the topic of the day had been flight. I guess I'm just the obvious subject for a discussion like that. Or, some version of me that's way more public about things like this."

And far more prone to wearing terrifyingly tight clothing that left very, very little to the imagination.

"I'm way more used to the idea that people know me because of my name. At least that would make sense."

"So, let me ask you a question then," Tony replied. "Do you know what a 'celebutante' is?"

There was a long, thoughtful pause, there.

"Paris Hilton," Warren then decided, with an air of certainty about him.

Yes, that was an example. And it was about the only name that seemed to show up without fail, whenever the word was used.

"...ew. The papers keep calling me that."

Poor, poor Tony.

"My condolences," Warren offered, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "I really don't think I envy you that. Usually when they use that word, they're talking about spoiled rich girls who are famous just because... they're spoiled rich girls."

Famous for being famous, more or less.

Damn it, Marvel! This one wasn't even a manwhore!

Yet.

"So, now I'm a girl." THANKS, WARREN.

ANYTIME, TONY.

"Well, you're a celebrity on account of being a kid with money," Warren offered, trying to soften the blow that he'd dealt with the Paris Hilton remark, earlier. "People are interested in you. And... probably mostly in what you spend the family fortune on."

There was a pause, and then he was smirking a little, in spite of himself.

"They're interested in you because you could afford to be a girl."

"I don't think I have the hips for it," Tony deadpanned.

"Oh, the right pair of heels will fix that in no time," Warren replied, managing, somehow, to refrain from laughing.

He'd been hanging out with Bobby for a year. He was catching on to the art of Deadpan.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject