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Inspiration was a fickle b***h, and being sans typewriter wasn't helping things for Sid. He'd made a few awkward attempts at jotting down notes, but the more he thought about each idea, the less he felt he could flesh it out into a full play. Why had he ever agreed to that? Because he was a writer... He probably should have mentioned than in his entire career he'd only actually finished one book.

After mulling over his options and drinking a bit, he was left feeling so frustrated and restless that he had to get out. Pacing the floor didn't help, not when the slapping sound his feet made kept boring into his brain. So, grabbing the trunks that were as sloppily altered as the rest of his clothes, Sid set out for the lake. It was blissfully dark, and he was just drunk enough to feel confident that if there were any psycho feral islanders about, they'd probably already glutted themselves on all the damn turkeys wandering around. A sudden gobble somewhere in the jungle still made him jump.

Once he reached the lake he made a lot of noise plowing through the shallow water. He didn't expect anyone to be out to complain- much less notice the faint light those certain scales gave off. He still didn't understand how that worked.

Sid turned and stared at the girl for a moment. As many times as he'd run into people while under the influence of something, he had to wonder if maybe he'd met her before and had forgotten about it. Nah, he would have remembered the hair... and the horn things.

"Looks that way," he said, glancing down at his arms as he began to tread water.

"Thanks, I guess..." They always had to mention the scales. "Name's Sid."

He was willing to risk making an a** of himself by saying, "Haven't seen you around before."

Feeling somewhat relieved the teeth weren't an issue, Sid relaxed a little. He began to swim in slow circles, keep a respectable (or safe) distance between them as he did. Keeping still, he found, led to strange impulses... impulses he tried not to think much about at the moment.

"Three months, huh..." He turned and swam back. "Sounds like more than a little under the weather... As for me? This is a new thing..."

"Nah, this wasn't the first," he said, propelling himself backwards with his tail. "I wasn't so, uh, scaly before..." He shouldn't have had to search for the word, but his mind wasn't exactly clear.

"What do you mean, new duplex? They move someone else in the old one while you were away?"

"Oh, I get it... One of those." Yet another things of the list Sid would likely have to worry about in the future. "It's true about the air thing, isn't it? That when it's over you're stuck?"

How many times, and to how many different people, had he asked that question? Enough that he should have known he was ********. Maybe it wasn't his memory, maybe he just kept hoping to be proven wrong.

"Yeah, but are you, uh... finished?" From where he was floating, she seemed pretty far along. And she had hair, which gave him a little bit of hope for the future. That reminded him, "And do you still have legs?"