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Jamal really didn't feel like deal with the ocean anymore. He could smell until morning....until next month at this point, if it meant that he could escape a doctor's needle because he smelt so bad. However, he knew that Antony was just as stubborn, if not more so, than he was.

It was this fact, not the puppydog look (as cute as it might have been), that made him give up on getting peace there at the ocean's shore.

"Fine...but only 'cause I know you ain't gunna leave me alone 'til I do," he said grudgingly, though he was reluctant to move at all just yet.

Ooo....back massages were nice...especially since his back was pretty ******** up from his sleep on the jungle floor and attempting to haul himself around on one working foot and a stick. That and she really did need to suck up. He was still mad at her...not as much as before, but enough to where he could milk it and potentially get favors out of it.

With an eyeroll, he took the offered hands and when she helped to get him to his feet, he used enough of her help to stay steady and put most of the reliance on standing on his own power. He was, afterall, bigger than she was by a considerable amount.

"Yous worse than ma mutha'," he commented peevishly as he did as ordered, using his hands to help keep him somewhat steady as he was submerged in the warm ocean water. "Ya both always tellin' me what ta do 'n' when ta do it." Except I won't have ta deal wit' ma mom no more... His lip quirked into a small frown at that thought, but he pushed it out of his mind. No way was he going to sit and emo-whine about everything wrong in his life right now.

Jamal's brow furrowed at the strange sensation of being scrubbed with sand; it didn't hurt, at least not yet, and probably wouldn't as long as she didn't linger too long in one spot with it. It actually felt sort of good, in a way that was hard to really describe. Or maybe he just really needed a bath and the feeling of being semi-clean was just that good.

"I should hope you ain't ma mutha," he said ruefully, staring blankly off into the distance. "Othawise there'd be some problems." Actually, problems wouldn't even be the start of what there would be...especially since the 'twins' were now pressed not-so-secretly to his back.

At the question of age, he came back into the present, letting his toes curl into the soft sand below to help anchor him in place.
"Age ain't nuthin' but a number," he commented, almost as though he was trying to be evasive, but followed it up with "25" shortly after. He didn't feel like trying to be coy right now.

Jamal lifted the unoccupied arm up to peer at his slowly prunifying fingers, wriggling them just above the surface as he heard her little quip about being young. She was rewarded with a expression that read somewhere along the lines of 'O RLY?'.

"I ain't dat young, unless you's 30-somethin' and been hidin' it well," he drawled as he let the hand drop back into his lap, turning his head to give her an apprasing look out of the corner of his eye.

"Well a'ight then," he said flippantly as she finished the sand scrub on his upper body, hence leaving him to do the rest himself, which he started. She probably needed a brief scrub herself, having been sweating and whatnot with all the driftwood gatherings and whatnot. "Like I said, age ain't nuthin' but a numba. Not like I'dda cared any if yous been 30-some."

He was amused that she had so easily given up her age; he knew better than to ask a woman how old they were if they looked to be past a certain age block...the younger ones were usually prouder than hell to say their age, as though saying "HAH I really am legal even though I look 16" while the older ones were "I'm old enough to know better but that doesn't stop me >3" and leave age out of it.

Jamal hardly bat an eye at being a makeshift clothing rack, busily washing his legs, wincing as he discovered the scabbed over scrapes on the one. Whoops...forgot about those. Lovely. At least saltwater was good for healing, or so he had been told.

The boxers were removed at one point to get a good rinsing before they were put back on, all managed under the water should anyone be paying attention to them out in the ocean. The last thing he needed was an audience that would go yap to Awen.

His skin felt a bit raw from all the of the grit, but it was better than nothing. At least he didn't sunburn easily.

Closing his eyes, he cupped some water and splashed it on his face, then rubbed it gently with sand before rinsing that off too. His hair was left alone, for now. It was really going to be a pain to deal with if they were stuck out here for very long...