He glanced up from his ship to Irving. "Don't call me that, Irving." Nathan grinned slightly. "We're not fucking business associates. We're bros."

With that said, he indulged in the same sort of destructive tendency as Irving had shown, but in a different way. Nathan smashed them with his fist, then threw what was left of the ship absently in some other direction.

"I should have picked the side with more fucking ships," he said jokingly. It was true though, he totally should have. "Still going to try to kick your ass though, jackoff." Friendly insults.

Then he pulled on his Serious Business expression because damn if Irving continued copying his tactic of like just wildly shoot away at the ships in the whole... group thingy, Irving would still win... Nathan knew how to do math, or pretty simple math off hand, and the numbers? The numbers were 'Nathan Explosion takes out a small handful of ships while Irving takes out somewhat more than that, and then Nathan's number of ship killing count begins to significantly fucking die off while Irving is just cruising around the imaginary ocean, chuckling to himself for being a sly bastard'. That was exactly what the numbers were telling him.

And that was some pretty fucking horrible deductions.

"Shit."