It'd been a cool and wet day again, today, which -- since the damp wasn't coming from being trapped in a sinking ship, even an imaginary one -- was just fine with Duke. Since apparently certain parts of him had decided to go into overdrive today and all.

Then, of course, he'd gotten into a text conversation with Octavia while eating dinner under the wheelhouse overhang, and was pretty sure nothing short of a dip straight into the icy Atlantic was going to help anymore.

And this was apparently going to go on all week.

"I hate this town," he told a pair of snuggly looking nearby porgs. Then realized that they were not, in fact, snuggling. "Dammit, guys. In front of my salad?!"

It was going to be a long week.

[ooc: mostly establishy to get that voicemail link in, but also open!]