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"I'm tired of the red, I think, to be honest with you...I dunno." He munched on the end of the candy bar, shifting over slowly to make room for her. Now that Warwick was sitting, he had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of getting up again. Most of him wanted to take a nap. Maybe the food would help.

"Too bright. Though, I guess that's the idea..." A quick clear of his throat, and he rummaged up a smile again. It looked tired, definitely. "I mean, I want people to be like 'who's the weirdo with the crazy hair, let's go check it out', but at the same time...well, whatever. Maybe I'll bleach the hell out of it and then put something fresh in."

And there went the last of the candybar.

"Yeah, I've done it, it fades to green pretty quick." He grinned at her, though, one shoulder twitching upward in a shrug. It was a tired grin, but it suited him much more than the more serious expression. Now turn it up a couple notches and it would be even better....

"The color is maybe a little, uh, well, not that helpful, considering I'm usually juggling fire, right?" He fumbled to get the lid off his bottle, and almost dropped it into the grass. It killed his smile some. If he was fumbling, he could hardly work.

"...and the tats do help, a bit, but only if I'm wearing short sleeves..."

"Well. Not...always. Just most of the time." Despite himself, he was flattered -- Warwick grinning up at her and trying not to flush. He did, in fact, have a pretty badass job. There were some he could think of that might be slightly cooler but...no, not many.

He was doing what he wanted to do, and in Warwick's opinion, that was the most important thing.

"You should come by on the weekend, at some point...I, uh. I set up at the same place, usually. Things might die down once it starts getting cold, but..." He shrugged. That was still a bit off, probably. Then he'd have to find some other way of making money.

"...it's been weird for me the past week or so, yeah." He cleared his throat, fussing with the bottle cap, dancing it somewhat nervously across the back of his knuckles. Food and water had helped a shocking amount, in all honesty; he almost felt back toward himself again. Almost. Given a day or two, perhaps...

"I. Um. I was born near Perth." He didn't say Australia -- most people could figure that bit out just from the accent. "But I've spent almost as much of my life away overseas than 'home', so I dunno if it even counts, still, you know? And I've been here months..."

The way he said months made it clear he thought that was a very long time to be in one place.

"...it was pretty roundabout." He grinned, though, at her tone, brightening even further. Cheerful. This helped more than anything else could. He was still wobbly, off-balance; if he'd tried to stand, he might well have fallen on his face. Not in the best shape.

But beyond the physical, this was rather nice.

"First to Scotland, that was the first time we wandered outta home. Fringe. It's a big one. Some time around Europe, and then down to New York..." And he gestured, vaguely, shrugging. It had been a very roundabout trip to Destiny City. More a stop along the way than a final destination.

"So do it." It was careless, easy: the way Warwick saw it, that was easy as it could get. He'd been about Darryl's age when he'd run off with his brother to see the world -- younger, maybe, though not by much. He pressed what was left of the bottle against his forehead and licked his lips, more himself now than he'd been.

And then he paused, realizing that he was a bad influence. Nothing new there, but he at least tried to be good.

"...uh. I mean. When you finish school and that." No. He definitely hadn't meant that. But he flicked her a look and offered a smile. It did very little to make his awkward cover up less awkward.

"Like finding injured me in the park." He bobbed his head in a quick nod, toasting her absently with the bottle of water. Not exactly the most elegant salute ever, but it served to make the point, something between acknowledgment and a 'thank you'.

"I'm okay, now, if you have to run...um." A moment's pause, and then he went to lever himself up to stand, still holding to the back of the bench as he got feet under him. Still wobbly, and exhausted. Maybe he had enough money from today to call a cab, instead of walking...