The Preserve [Saturday afternoon]

[make-the-shot.livejournal.com]

Proto was feeling oddly reflective today, and being cooped up inside just didn't sit well with him. So he'd headed out to take a walk. Enjoy nature. All that... stuff.

Okay, so he really didn't know much about that sort of thing, but that was a good reason to give it a shot, right? Walk around, look at some trees and stuff. Generally try to appreciate a place that could have trees and forests. It was still too warm, really, compared to home, but he could live with that.

Maybe he could even learn to enjoy it.

Of course wandering around all by himself was a bit too much like home in some ways. There were people he'd sort of gotten to know around the island, and it was... kind of nice to be able to just hang out. Not worry about an ambush or a fight or anything like that. So what was he doing alone out in the cold?

Whatever. He'd take a bit more time and then head back in. See if anyone was up for some bad TV and junk food.

[Proto's just wandering around, so open for anyone who wants to talk to him.]

Imperial Junke Yard, Saturday

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

Marcus had started the day on the distinctly cranky side, partly caused by the fact that he had a hole in his arm (thank you Parents Weekend), partly caused by the fact that said hole was healing rather faster than it should be.

He doubted the island's weirdness was to blame, which left him wondering what was.

The wonderings were completely driven out of his head, however, by what awaited him when arrived at the junkyard.

Baby goats. Lots of them. Whole herds, even. Jumping around the place, leaping off wooden crates, and, very notably, playing poker. They'd also set up a roulette wheel in one corner, particularly impressive given their lack of opposable thumbs.

Marcus took one look at them, shook his head, and disappeared into the shed.

[ooc: junkyard is open and, yes, the kids are gamboling.]