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Lucas felt badly for the young girl and wondered what her friend had done to hurt her. Had there been an argument? However, he would not inquire any further. She didn't want to talk about it and it might very well upset her more if he did ask anymore questions. He just hoped that the friend that she clearly still cared about made up with her.

"Star Wars? Yeah, I've seen it. It's one of my favorites," he nodded and gave her a friendly smile. "It's been years since I last saw the old ones, though." There hadn't really been time to go back and watch them since his father fell ill and work consumed his time. "Do you want me help you find the movies?" He pointed toward the shelves full of DVDs. "There are actually six Star Wars movies. Two trilogies. But they were made out of order. But it doesn't really matter which order you watch them." He paused, wondering if she understood or cared. He figured her friend probably meant for her to take a look at the old ones.

As he stood and waited for her reply he couldn't help but smile a little with amusement. It just seemed out of place that this cute, soft-spoken and meek girl was coming in here asking about a movie like Star Wars.

Brian had retreated to his room after his initial encounter with Zachary, thinking long and hard. He'd somehow managed to completely miss a halloween party of some sort- or at least, that's what he gathered from the tent being taken down. Oh well, he wasn't big on parties anyways. Brian had more important things to think about, though- the experiments they were doing on this island, for one. The 'dragon' he'd encountered was thrilling and exciting, at first- human-created sentience in an animal! Magnificent! Wondrous! But... did it really serve a purpose? How many animals like him had failed and been culled? How much pain and suffering did these labs put animals through? And more importantly, how on earth was his research linked to all of it??

Too much to think about, really. He forced himself outside to explore the immediate area, to get his bearings in the case that they'd want him to stay more than a few days. It struck him as rather odd that no guide was provided for him, no tour or explanation from a lower-ranking official. Strange indeed. It was with these thoughts swirling around in his head that the field biologist found himself in the 'entertainment room' (although he'd no idea that was its given title) and poring through the DVD titles on the shelves, not really reading them so much as wasting time and trying to make himself feel busy.

Richard was looking to relax. His encounter with Billy had continued to replay itself in his head. The octopus' territoral instincts had clearly overpower the man's rational thoughts and Richard was concerned with his own mental health. Had he been doing anything he wouldn't do ordinarily? He didn't think so, besides that incident at the halloween party. He was still himself as far as he could tell.

Still, his mind was beginning to feel like a hamester wheel. With the memorial project dead, and he couldn't find Gaius anyway, Richard was out of ideas.

So like before, Richard decided to take the day off. Try not to worry about anything for a day. He would have gone fishing but it didn't seem like a good idea with his arm in a sling. So a couple movies might do instead.

He walked into the entertianment room wearing one of his modified suits, holes for his little arms and tentacles. His cane in his left hand, the right arm in a sling.

Having spent years in an occupation where most of what he did was sitting and watching, Brian had picked up the habit of checking over his shoulder on a rather regular basis. He did so a short moment after Richard entered (perhaps triggered by the vague recognition of the sound of a door being opened). Only getting a brief glance- clearly not enough of one to see extra limbs or even tentacles of a most outragous sort- the redhead turned back to the shelves. This person was human, and so had to be one of the researchers- Brian didn't want to bother him, or get in his way. If the elder man intended to speak with him, he'd let him initiate the conversation.

Richard stopped and studied the man standing by the DVD's for a moment. He was human, and one Richard hadn't seen at the Halloween party. Predictably he could just see the tips of his tentacles out of the corner of his eyes as they lowered into a striking pose. He mentally clicked on the "safety" He didn't need another accident.

The thought of ignoring the man crossed his mind but he quickly crushed it. Someone normal and rational would be refreshing after the octopus man. Did he have any letters? No. Well he could point the man out in the direction of the bulletin board if he needed to.

Richard moved in the direction of the DVD collection where Brian stood. He smiled that gentle smile of his although he didn't really feel it. "Hello there." Really, Richard just looked tired at the moment.

Brian turned, the beginnings of the faint smile he would have forced on his face trickling away at the sight of the man's bizarre... growths. He immediately began to wonder how hot it was in the room, what he'd eaten that day, and how much sleep he'd had- because really, he simply had to be hallucinating.

He rubbed his eyes, and smiled a small, nervous smile, if only to return the man's favour. "Hi," he said, rather simply, and quickly added more to it so that he didn't sound so dense. "You're one of the scientists working here, I assume?"

So he didn't know. Damn. Richard shook his head sadly. "I was a scientist before I retired. That was a long time ago though." He extended his left hand after a breif twing of pain shot up his right arm when he attempted to move it. "I'm Richard. Retired Physiologist, captured reporter and now..." He shrugged. "An experiment of Dr. Moreau's. Just like everyone else."

Richard watched Brian closely.

What Richard would see was a quick furrowing of the brows, a slight involuntary flaring of the nostrils, and the parting of lips in preparation for speech which never came. The pause was long, and Brian took this time to solidly consider what was going on. He decided that he didn't really know, and did the first thing that came to mind. "...what... what do you mean?"

No panic. That was good. Although there was some temptation to just hit him with the tentacles to smash the wall of denial that he could see Brian summoning up. The tentacles danced at the thought, straining againist the "safety" muscle.

No... the man didn't deserve that... yet. RIchard closed his eyes and visably exhaled. Then he smiled sadly this time and let his hand fall. "Son, I suggest you have a seat for a moment. Listen to what I just said. Then I'll explain further." Make him process it a little. Otherwise this would get no where.

Part of Brian's mind (the one minescule fraction that wasn't doing a magnificent metaphorical impression of a seagull in a typhoon) objected to being called 'son', on the grounds that he was, first and foremost, an adult, and secondly that he didn't know this man well enough to endure such friendly reference. But then that silly, unimportant thought was quashed. Something far bigger was going on.

Listening to Richard's suggestion, the biologist straightened and went to a sofa, sitting down and looking expectantly at him. "What do you mean, you're his experiment?" 'Human testing. Ohgodohgod they're doing human testing.'

Richard could almost see the gears grinding through Brian's head. He turned away to inspect the DVD collection, giving the man a very good look at the tentacles sprouting from his back.

As he searched for a good Bond flick, he spoke. "Techinically my "serum" was developed by a man named Sabin Durvert. A underling of Moreau's. Most of the people here are being their DNA blended with that of an animal or several animals, in my case." Richard was trying very hard to act non chalant about it, but could not keep an angry terseness from creeping into his voice. He plucked a DVD from the shelf. His tentacles writhed in the air, wanting to strike something, anything!

He turned to pop the DVD in the player. "Did you get an injection?" He grinned a bit, revealing his enlarged canines.

"Yes, I did," Brian answered warily. He didn't remember getting it, but he certainly saw the mark. "Blending DNA? That's not possible. It can't be." But it all seemed to make a little too much sense- collecting all those samples, all that data, answering the bizarre questions that the main office would spout at random. DNA? But what about- "Zachary," Brian muttered, and then asked more loudly, "The creature that's called Zachary. He claims to be a dragon, when clearly there's no such thing as dragon DNA."

He scoffed at the very notion. "This must be some kind of joke. I'm sure the labs are just producing some highly intelligent test-tube animals, that's all." But still... all the human mannerisms, and how would he explain away the disfigurement of the man right in front of him? It was all too much. He paused, and suddenly asked, "Who's in room number-" (he hadn't yet been conditioned to call them duplexes) "-one, and five?" Off the top of his head, those two were the only ones he remembered. He'd left the little note safe back in the desk drawer.

Impossible? No it wasn't impossible. The quicker the man learned that, the better. Richard actual beared his teeth at Brian for a brief moment and then looked away, down on the coffee table infront of Brian. Richard's eyes fell on a DVD case that someone hadn't put away. The "safety" and the tentacle's sprung and slammed into the case stretching about twice its length to do so. Both tentacles adhered, and the case rocketed toward's Richard's face. Richard wasn't quite fast enough to catch it with his left hand but was able to block it. The tentacle ripped from the plastic surface with an audible pop and the case fell to the ground.

"Immpossible doesn't exist on this island." He stated, breathing slightly heavy.

Then he remembers the duplex questions. "Duplexes 1 and 5? That's Ambrose and Pyroth. Why?"

Brian stood. The strange display was more than enough to convince him that even if people weren't being experimented on, something seriously wrong was going on on this island. "Nevermind," he muttered in reply to Richard's answer about the duplex residents. Two names. What good were they to him? Regardless, he made a mental note to himself to jot them down later. 'Room 1 and 5 - Ambrose, Pyroth'.

Rubbing the side of his temple with two fingers, he scowled darkly. "I... I'm not sure what to say. I'd better be going." And without so much as a goodbye, Brian turned and headed for his duplex at a brisk pace. He needed a nap, pronto.

Guess that had been a little to much for the man. He watched Brian begin to stand and his face turned to sympathy. He wasn't being very tolerant. "Look, I know its alot to process, go read the welcome letter on the bulletin board." He Frowned as Brian seemed to ignore him and head for the door. He called after him, "Oh if you see Ambrose, tell him hi for me, He's the wolf man!"

Then Brian was gone. Richard was alone again. Pity.

He picked up the remote and the TV flickered to life.

Freddie had settled back into his default foul mood after the bewildering encounter with the chick in the cafeteria. He'd spent the days after laying low and trying to make sense of things, only to conclude that there probably was no making sense of it. Everything felt off, and since it wasn't all physical he was at a complete loss. It never crossed his mind it was all the work of overloaded hormones.

He'd managed to clean his clothes- what few he had- by visiting the laundromat in the dead of night. He was dead set on holding out for as long as possible before stooping to asking for more. Feeling moderately better to have all the mud and funk off, he decided to go scope out the Entertainment room in hopes of finding a movie with Steven Segal and/or lots of explosions.

Just his luck, someone else had to be there. He groaned at the sight of Rachel before he even got a good look at her.

"Not a thing, Bones," Freddie drawled, his mood darkening even more with that look again, that appraising look that always passed over his chest at some point. "I was just gonna watch a movie, you got a problem with that?"

"You got it, Twiggy." Freddie took a few steps toward the TV when he stopped, like a thought had just struck him, and looked back over to the girl. This was potentially better than a movie. "You ever try eatin' a sandwich? I'm just wonderin'."

"Y'know, a sandwich, two pieces of bread, few peices of meat, sometimes there's lettuce." Freddie used his hands to mime an impressively sized one.

"I'm askin', cause it looks like yer body's caving in on itself. Thought you oughtta know."

"Ohhh, so yer one of them bullemic chicks," Freddie said. He was in general the ballpack of eating disorders, sure, but still wrong. "Won't be happy til there's no meat on you at all, right?" He rubbed his chin as he gave her an appraising look, and snickered. "You ain't got far to go."

Freddie smirked and folded his arms. He'd worked out that if he held them slightly away from his chest he kept from mashing his boobs together.

"What I know is nobody wants to rub up on somebody when they'd just get friction burns from it. And it helps to have enough weight to keep from blowin' away in a strong, breeze, y'know?"

He clicked his tongue, throwing in what he considered a remotely nice comment. "You'd be cute if you didn't look like Skeletor."