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The dog was lounging somewhere in Cassiopeia. He wasn't really sure where it was. His head was spinning from a drug-induced stupor - it seemed the last few cycles had literally blasted by as little by little, he grew a naughty little garden in the prison and could not help but...well, sample his own product. And that sampling had just turned into a lifestyle. An incredibly unhealthy one that HAD, at some point, ended in a chrysalis.

That was a little while ago. He was better now. He promises.

Back in the light outside his garden for the first time in many cycles, he remembered what it felt like to be alive, just staring up at the ceiling from atop a crumbled, overgrown building. Man, he needed to take up art again. The satchel at his side was still heavy with paints. Or maybe find someone to fuck with...

Ah.. that chance would come almost immediately, as a skittering sound got louder as something - keyword: SOMETHING - passed right by. At first it was just a glance, but then he looked again in shock. Because that thing was. Sure something.

No way was he letting that pass up.

Instantly, energy poured through his tired limbs and he shot up into a sitting position, trademark grin stretching across his face as he swung his feet over and dropped to the ground. "YO," he called to the...thing. "Um...you okay? Ha ha ha...thats a, uh, pretty damn crazy skin suit you got!" The smile got wider. "Where'd you get it?"