#got this instead

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Ian Jones has always been more of a wild child than the other kids his parents raised.

Not in the sense that he misbehaved or made trouble, no no— more in the sense that he did things with little thought, made jokes and got dirty. Always came home with a new bump, bruise, or scrape.

Of course, he can behave when his parents want him to, he’d hate to upset them, but the 100 years he believed his Papi was dead and stoutly avoided his Mami had locked some of those polite behaviors behind thick walls.

He causes trouble for everyone around him, acted out to get attention he craved from the older States, the Grandpa’s, because he could no longer get it from his parents.

But…Gov…

“Florida, put that away.” The burning match in his hand was put out with two fingers closing around the flickering flame, “You can burn down his shed later.”

The man’s presence was familiar, but impossible.

“Get off the chandelier, you heathen child.” Crossed arms and steady grey eyes, looking up at him.

His self-destructive, arrogant behavior began to turn once more to the playfulness from his youth in the man’s presence.

Florida had assumed, like many others, that Gov was a new personification meant to replace DC.

Several States, starting from Minnesota and ending at young Hawai’i, called the man their dad. That quickly ended the ‘New Personification’ line of thought, but then came the question: who is Gov?

The magical mishap with Loui’s book answered that, and they were all made aware that Gov was Congress. He was their father, he was the boy the OG’s raised.

He wasn’t dead.

And Florida was conflicted.

He had missed his Papi, had missed being Ian Jones and not just Florida.

But his Papi must have left for a reason.

…

Florida may not be the smartest, but even he knows not to look a gator in the mouth on this one.

“Papi! I’m gonna try and shoot the hurricane out on the coast!” He calls out, slinging his shotgun across his back as he makes his way down the hall.

“That’s nice, son.” The man answers from his desk, focused entirely on his paperwork, and Ian grins.

He waits…

The screech of an office chair across the floor, pounding footsteps, a door being thrown open upstairs, his Papi’s voice booming through the house—