Iggy grins and nods. "Up is good," he agrees. The storm isn't going to stay lulled for long, after all. He follows along, grinning further at the idea of any sexual implication.

"Yeah, careful, I'll think you're easy," he teases.

On the topic of literature Iggy brightens. "That's it! I don't remember much about it, though. I'm not much of a reader."

He snickers silently at the terrible joke and breezes on to exclaim, "Theodora is so pretty! But no. No, you sure didn't grow into that one. I like Teddy, it's cool."

Iggy shakes his head, eyes wide as they ascend to the apartment. "No, I don't know where 'barbarian' comes from. Are you an entomologist?" He's close?

The way Teddy says that little biased line sounds familiar, but Iggy can't place it. His parents definitely own the film on DVD, though.

But then they're back to the one topic Iggy usually tries to avoid. His nerves are singing but then Teddy is holding his hands and looking up at him. Their eyes are so kind. Iggy relaxes a bit again.

"We are definitely not dead," he says with an absent sort of confidence - it's like how he'd say 'water is wet.'

"But yeah, I see and hear dead people." He smiles, looking embarrassed now. "Ever since I was born. Which isn't that unusual - lots of kids can. It just never went away with me. Uhm. My mom called me her little prodigy." The faintest of blushes.

"So. There's that. I don't usually, you know. Disclose it. But in this place I guess it's not that fucking weird, so..."