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"Yeah, the octopus man is Billy." He recalled him from the theater construction site. "None of the other's I'm familiar with." He hadn't met any fish-man or the one she called Richard.

"I've only met a few girls. Aside from Emelyn there was Emerwyn and Nita. They are all very nice." He slipped the bottle into his pocket. "Maybe try coming around the bit of construction that is happening near the village? They are putting up a theater. There hasn't been many girls around there that I've seen, but you might run into someone there to talk to."

Lucas scratched his ear idly as he recalled. "I think I heard something about a talent show. I'm not positive, though. Likely plays will be put on. I don't think it's been advertised much. They are probably trying to get it built before they start anything. But you could stop by and talk to Gaius. He's in charge of construction. He could tell you more about than I could. Or from Billy. I think it was all his idea."

"That's actually a harder question to answer since nobody stays the same for long. But before Gaius still had dark hair, tanned skin, and a really thick neck. Thicker than mine. He's also got wings on his back. He changed about a day before I did, though, so he's a little different now." Hopefully Gaius wasn't still running around with bandages on his face like he was Quasimodo or Darkman. Would he even be showing up at the construction site?

Shrugging away the questions, he returned his focus to Rachel.

"Yeah, I believe he was." He wished he could think happily on the food-fight. It had been rather fun. Probably more fun than he'd had on the Island. But Zach had made good work of souring it all in the end.

"He didn't seem like the most comfortable or pleasant person to be around. Fortunately I haven't had to interact with him much. I'm not a big fan of his scent or his bossy attitude." Or that annoying box he carries around. "What happened with him, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Very not pleasant," he spoke flatly, though annoyed with the octopuses behavior.

"You could try talking to the labs. It's not something you might want to do, but they are the only ones who could fix your problem in the bathroom. Or at least tell them to evict Billy." He smirked.

The fat comment was more difficult to address. The topic of weight was dangerous territory, especially for a man. They were less adept at dealing with those kind of issues. At least Lucas was. Telling her she wasn't fat would not work and would be an obvious lie she'd see through. But he couldn't just agree with her that she was fat. But he couldn't just say nothing. "You shouldn't care what Billy says or thinks," he said after a moment of debate. "He's a jerk." He ran fingers absently over the fur on the back of his lower arm. "I know this change is hard for you, Rachel. Try not to let people like Billy to get to you. You'll make it through this." They weren't very helpful words, but it was all he could offer.

"Yeah. The lab techs they have manning the phones aren't exactly the friendliest." He ran fingers through his hair. "If I ever figure out how to sew again with these hands, maybe I can give making some clothing for you a try. That way you won't have to ask the labs."

This conversation left him uncomfortable and frustrated. And when mixed with the dhole it made things worse. The dhole did not like these emotions and if it could have it's own way, it would bolt, try to run away. Escape it all and return to where it was more comforting. The human side found the idea appealing, but not at all an option.

Rachel's serum was much more difficult than his own and he knew would only get worse. She obviously needed some kind words. What could he say?

"I know. In school I worried about my glasses and being called four-eyes. I was tall and awkward in high school. A nerd. Now I worry about if I might be frightening to people. I'm almost afraid to smile or laugh and show my teeth. I have no idea what to think of myself. I wish I could tell you something, Rachel. I wish I could give you an answer that made things right or better." His hands fidgeted, the room slipping into an uncomfortable silence.

"On the outside Billy is an ugly, ink-spitting octopus. On the inside he's likely just as ugly thanks to whatever life he lived before and after he arrived on the Island." He paused. "It's kind of dorky, but I reread a book recently. Part of a mantra in the book is "My skin is not my own". It's funny how it applies here. On this Island we really don't have much control over our appearance. Every few months it changes again. I guess we should just give up on our bodies. We can't change it. But we can still change what is on the inside. Be who you want to be on the inside." He hoped she wouldn't look at him oddly for that, especially for the corny way he'd said it. It had been something he'd been mulling over before his most recent change. Right now it was hard to consider it, though, his anger and frustration over the loss of his hands and his feet hitting him hard.

A tear? That hadn't been any of reactions he'd expected. For a moment he worried she might really cry, but it seemed she got herself under control.

"Don't worry about it, Rachel." He offered her a kind smile. He still had a lot of doubts about being able to ever sew again. No attemts had been made since his change. He was almost afraid to. But he would give it a try. ...eventually.

For the moment he was happy that he helped make her feel better. His tail even wagged slightly. He was almost fearful of saying more and completely ruining it all, though. "You're welcome. I'm glad I could help."