The Viewing Globe

WHO: David and Clarke
WHAT: Drinking and thinking
WHERE: Jason's
WHEN: September 3rd, 10:30pm

David sat in the midst of the local crap-level bar, the seediest, weirdest place he could find in Angel Grove. Simply called Jason's, it was filled with all the lower class the city had to offer, the slobs and the regular patrons one would expect to find. Half of them were drunk already, the rest on their way there. The place was sort of tucked away, shoved to the back of the city as though it would go away if people ignored it long enough. That was how it felt, anyway. David hadn't been in the mood for Get Some tonight; everyone seemed to go there, and he wasn't so sure he wanted to see anyone he recognized. He had a lot on his mind, a scotch in his hands and the look of a man without sleep in his eyes. With any luck he could have some time to think, to sort out the things going through his head.

There was a lot to sort through though, and David doubted he would get through even half of it at the rate he was going. He commented mentally that he should stop by and see Guin at some point. Maybe she could offer him advice, at the very least. For now... the alcohol would have to be enough.

WHO: Matt Clarke and Open
WHAT: Out for a Walk with the Dog
WHEN: 10 am, August 30th

Clarke looked down at Duke who upon feeling his master's gaze upon him also return the look. Shaking his head, Clarke took a swift sip from te bottle of beer he held in his hand. The dog had frustrated him to no end, but inthe end he had given in and allowed the dog his freedom from the confines of the house. It was quiet this morning but no doubt this was due in part to the battle the day before, and everyone sill held their breath over the condition of the Red Ranger from Phoenix.

Matt tried not to tink about it though. Billy was a good kid, he'd make it through. Instead he focused on Duke who had strayed off and was now sniffig at a fallen branch that te grounds crew had yet to collect. The dog loved fetch, and it's fascination with the fallen piece of wood was an indicator to his master that he would settle for nothing less than a round. Not even bothering to put up an arguement, Clarke leaned down and picked up the branch. The older dog instantly becam young as he put all his weight on his back haunches, his tail flailing in the breeze. With a flick of his wrist Matt cased the branch away and like a rocket Duke zipped off after it, a small trail of drool starting go slide away from it's mouth.