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By drinking at lunchtime, Oz had greater chances of getting the alcohol from his system by the evening when he could go by the near-complete theatre and over see the finishing touches with a watchful eye. He'd taken his duties as guard and all-round labourer seriously, despite the odd alcohol-induced slip up. Today, however, was not a good day.

He hadn't drank all that much, three bottles resting beside his elbow as testiment to a fairly light drinking session. But combined with a night of feverish sleep, it served only to make him fall asleep on the counter of the beach bar. Oz lay slumped, snoring and with a small puddle of drool forming on the counter where his lips touched the surface.

Maybe it was a good thing gorillas, like all high primates, were visual rather than aroma creatures. Had his sense of smell been as advanced as some of the other Islanders, he would have stirred into the life the moment Seth was close enough to be smelled.

But as it was, a gorilla, and indeed Oz himself, was useless with other senses. At leats at the moment anyways. He continued to emit sloppy snores, the spit rolling around and pooling in his mouth before seeping onto the counter.

The thump made Oz stir and begin his slow entry into the real world, reaching arms out to stretch and preparing his body for an almighty yawn. But this little ritual for awakening was sharply cut short and Oz was wide awake as the sound of glass hitting floor ringed all around the bar. His first thought was of one of his beer bottles being knocked to the ground accidentally, but before he could even look to the floor to confirm suspicions, he saw Seth in corner.

"What the...who are you?" he asked, not accusatory but certainly wary.

Oz cocked a thick eye-ridge at the long-jawed man, quite visibly bemused with Seth and his actions. Like Seth, he couldn't shake a feeling of familiarity but that flash of sharp teeth was un-nerving and made Oz feel uneasy for a while. Armed with no claws or sharp teeth himself, he had been feeling incredibly vulnerable lately, and almost hoped his next change might bring some kind of defense or protection.

"I'm Oz...and what else do you do in a bar," he answered both questions in one gutteral sentence with little energy spent.

To get his point across, he gathered his three empties, amazingly still unsmashed in his stirrings, and then took them to the bin. He couldn't help notice that Seth went 'forraging' for more bottles of drink, stepping lightly over the shards of whiskey bottle.

"Having a party or something?"

Oz had to admit a kind of admiration for Seth's forethought. He'd been gulping down beer bottles everyday without so much as a nano-thought to the supplies and how often they were re-stocked. But as good as the idea may be, he wasn't about to start burying things on the Island. Seth could get away with it, he looked like a canine. A gorilla on the otherhand, would look mighty odd.

"Good point. Lord only knows when the evil bastards might try their own prohibition," he mumbled angrily as he soon joined Seth behind the bar, searching for alcohol.

Oz now took the chance to yawn and stretch as he had begun before, a low rumbling echoing around his thick chest and a very distinctive coarse grunt escaping his mouth. He reached a muscular arm to the beer fridge and pulled out another bottle that he shouldn't be having. This could be his last for today...or so he told himself.

He waited until he was back on the other side of the counter to ruminate on his next question.

"Why would anyone want to see you dead?" he asked considerably casually, supping his beer.

It didn't surprise him to hear of 'hunting desires' on the Island, considering the number of plant eaters to meat eaters, etc. But Seth didn't look like a plant eater.

"Heh. I think they're getting soft. I had fun getting rid of 'Big Brother' only to be taken back to my room. Not even a slap on the bottom," he bragged and chuckled as if he was above being punished.

He slurped his beer some more and tried to put a face to the name that Seth provided. Richard....Richard...?? He couldn't recall ever meeting anybody with that name, or if he did, they'd never made a lasting impression. And Seth's correction of gender seemed to go un-noticed by Oz, at least for now.

"Claiming territory? People really do that? Thats just friggin' warped," he said, somewhat dismayed. "Say, come 'ere a sec?"

"Yup," he stated simply, taking a swig from his bottle. "The buggers have cameras in the duplexes too. Perverts. If they wanna see my big arse when I'm getting dressed, leave them to it. I already know my arse is irresistable."

He couldn't help smirking and chuckling at his drink-fuelled casual jokes, despite the creepy truth of the cameras. The drink was also making him less cautious with what he said. But since his lack of punishment, Oz hadn't felt the need to be careful.

He leaned a little bit as Seth approached and then gently took hold of his muzzle, tilting his head to one side then the other, like he was judging a dog in a dog show.

"Y'know, you look familiar...I've seen ya around but I've met ya somewhere else..."

Oz let go of Seth's muzzle as gently as he'd grasped it. He was sure there was more to this fella than just seeing him at the construction site.

"Yeah...I can't seem to forget that in a hurry either," he replied flatly, taking the final swig from his beer bottle, and then placing the empty delicatley on the counter.

"Wait a minute, you used to be a damn-sight more human looking and was pissed with the labs. Weren't you the one with the escape plot?"

Damn, that seemed like so long ago. Oz must have still been human, or close to human after his first change, when he'd first been privy to Seth's ideas for escape.

Oz didn't want to think about anyone who was worse off than he was. Someone who had more painful changes. More instincts to battle. More humanity to lose. Right, now, nothing mattered except himself. He could have commented on Seth's sympathy for those who did have it worse, but he didn't.

"Yeah, that WAS me. And yeah, didn't last long. A leopard can't change its spots," he said with a smirk at first, amused at Seth's triumph over his memory. But he seemed somewhat sullen at the end. Self-disappointment most likely.

He fiddled with his idle hands now, fingers running over the bumps on the bottle.

"...is it still on?" he asked after a slight hesitation and significantly hushed. He didn't change his body language though, in case cameras were watching.