Lions, and tigers, and {Matt}, oh my!

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt loved the zoo. There was something exotic about it, something that always managed to transport him to a different place, no matter how many bars were between him and the African savannah. And then there was the game he'd always played with himself ever since he was younger...it was an imaginary game, one where he pretended all different sorts of animals could come together and make new ones. Like a lion and a gorilla--when put together, Matt had executively decided at the age of seven, they became a Lonilla, the fiercest animal in all of Africa because not only could they roar and scratch things, but they could peel bananas with their feet, too.

Today, Matt was on a quest to find an animal to match with a Siberian Tiger. Something different, that no one would expect. So far he'd tried a butterfly (but the wing patterns hadn't quite fit), a sloth (the tiger inside, he felt, would grow far too confused), and a giraffe (too much orange), but not one of them had quite seemed to fit. So it was through his absent-minded wanderings for the animal companion of the lonely tiger trapped in his imagination that Matt arrived at the sea otter exhibit.

It wasn't too crowded, just a few families sprinkled about the place, and Matt made sure to avoid all of them. He didn't like the way some of the mothers were looking at him, like he was some sort of lost dog in need of help, or simply a good-for-nothing nobody who should just as soon have been kicked out of the zoo as allowed entrance. Well, maybe the second one enticed him a little...

He was just beginning to ponder the implications of a black and orange striped otter when the sound of someone's laughter reached his ears. Matt started looking around at once for the source of the noise, only slightly surprised to find it in a blonde-haired girl standing not five feet to his left. Turning slowly, and entirely unaware of why he was doing so, Matt moved quietly towards the girl until he was standing right at her side, his arms folded innocently behind his back as he stared at the exhibit for a minute longer. "You know," he said suddenly, "I think they'd look funnier with stripes. That'd really give ya somethin' to take pictures of, don't 'cha think?"

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt tossed the girl, whoever she was, a look of surprise. "Well, tiger stripes, of course. You couldn't very well fit zebra stripes on an otter, could you? They'd look backwards." It was true, of course. A black and white otter just didn't quite seem to fit the premise of the game; they had to be different, exotic, and usually crossed with some sort of dangerous carnivore to be considered worthwhile.

Turning back to look at the swimming mammals, Matt was completely and utterly oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation. Neither one of them was talking. She was fiddling with her camera. He didn't mind, he supposed; having never been one to experience the pangs of discomfort in new conversation, he naturally assumed it was just a myth of a thing. Nobody actually felt "awkward." It was all in their heads, simple as that.

Still, he couldn't help but feel like he should say something more. There was something hanging in the air between them, punctuated only by the sounds of the girl fiddling with her camera and the giggles of children surrounding the exhibit, that was begging to be dissipated. "I'm Matt, by the way," he said suddenly, turning to nod in the girl's direction. "Sorry if I...I donno...frightened you, or something..." shrugging, he smiled slightly, that innocent sort of smile that usually got him what he wanted. And today, it seemed, he wanted a conversation with whoever-she-was.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt stared at the girl for a moment and blinked. She had a point, he supposed, but still...he shook his head again. "Yeah, but you couldn't put any of those on an otter. They just wouldn't work. It'd have to be a tiger or..." he paused for a moment, as if reconsidering her point. "Well, I suppose maybe a badger would work, but that'd still be awfully boring." dismissing the argument with a shrug, Matt turned to face the girl again when she mentioned something about a boyfriend.

"Did you? Well...I didn't," Matt shrugged, not really sure what to say to that. He smiled at her, though, and nodded, sort of hoping she wasn't about to launch into some story about said boyfriend named Matt--he wasn't good with that sort of thing. Thank God she didn't say anything else on the subject. "August," nodded Matt, "Like the month." Well no duh, dofus, he mentally chided himself, although unembarrassed by the comment.

He could probably leave now, if he wanted to. It wouldn't be too awkward, or unheard of, if he were to mumble something about taking a call and then slide off to some other exhibit in search of something exciting; but then, this girl didn't seem boring, either. She'd at least debated about the stripes comment, and that made her semi-worthwhile already. Glancing up as August adjusted her hair, Matt noted almost absentmindedly the Penguin exhibit not too far off; they were usually fun, and maybe August would like to take pictures of them, too... It might be worth a shot, at least. "Say," he began almost absentmindedly, "Are you taking pictures of just the otters, or d'you have other animals on the agenda? 'Cause, you know, I could show you around, if you wanted." he grinned almost mischievously, albeit innocently so.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt blinked. "What made you think of not putting them there?" he was silent for a moment before it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps August really had never thought of doing such a thing. Which, to Matt, was the more bizarre idea of the two. Still, he added as a bit of an afterthought and a shrug, "It's a sort of a game, I guess. You've got to mix two of the animals together, and then see what you come up with. I've played it ever since I was little," there was more than a hint of boastfulness to his voice. She'd probably never played anything like it, after all.

"Weird's fine," Matt shrugged. "Better, actually," he smiled back at her, not condescending in the slightest. At the mention of a story, Matt visibly perked up. Although he'd been standing fairly straight before, there was a certain tenseness to him, almost akin to a dog being forced to sit still while someone balanced a biscuit on its nose. Curiosity overtook the entirety of Matt's face, and he blurted out his thoughts far before the idea of being polite even began to form in his mind. "Nah, I wanna hear it. Stories are great, and it can't be all sad," he added, looking at August almost sternly for a moment.


Grin growing ever-wider at the prospect of venturing off somewhere new and exciting, Matt nodded eagerly. "Penguins are great! That's what I was going to say, you know." turning around before he could see if she was really following him, Matt headed towards the penguin exhibit with a strangely casual-yet-brisk stride he'd never quite seemed able to get rid of, the fact that his companion was several inches shorter than he hardly even crossing his mind as a potential problem.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

"Huh," Matt looked at her once with brows raised, tongue planted in his cheek. "Well maybe you should try it sometime. I could show you how, if you wanted," he added as a bit of an afterthought, although the idea did sound rather appealing once spoken aloud. After all, he hadn't had a partner in this game since he was about eight, and the thought of acquiring a new one was dreadfully appealing.

Matt listened to the story intently, eyes wide and hungry for anything that might constitute itself as the beginnings of a thrilling tale. Unfortunately, he was a bit disappointed. For a moment after August had finished telling her tale, Matt stood frozen, blinking as he tried desperately to think of anything to say but what first came to mind. It was, however, a losing battle. As always. "I don't have a mom either," he paused for a minute, almost awkwardly before flashing August a slightly sheepish, apologetic grin. Shrugging the thought off, Matt was as oblivious as ever to the potential insensitivity of his words. He continued again without thought as to where exactly he was taking this conversation. "October wouldn't be so bad. Not as good as, I donno, December or something, but not bad. I like August, though. August is nice," he spoke truthfully, and any charm in his voice was not placed there on purpose, but more the product of a lifetime of speaking only what he found to be accurate; it showed in his eyes, the authenticity of it. Matt smiled warmly before turning again towards the next part of this day's adventure.

Waiting rather impatiently for August to catch up to where he was standing at the edge of the exhibit, Matt waved her over quickly. Once she'd arrived--finally--Matt turned to look at her and said quietly and in all seriousness, as if this was some sort of private secret between the two of them, "So what d'ya think their names are?"

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt nodded eagerly, glad ot hear August understood and agreed with his plan. He was going to explain it to her at the penguin exhibit anyway, of course, but it was nice to know she approved of the idea before hand; she seemed nice enough so far, and he had the horrible feeling that the rest of his day would be quite boring if he were to scare her off.

"Nah, it was exciting enough. Just..." he shrugged. It was a rather sad story, he supposed, but saying so would only make it true, and he didn't want that. Briefly considering ignoring her thought about mothers entirely, it was only after he decided she might think he was avoiding the subject that Matt replied with another careless shrug and a "Step mom, but she hardly counts," The look on his face made more than obvious his feeling about said step mother, but he wished to discuss no more about it. It was too early in the day for that stuff. It was always too early for that stuff, really.

Matt turned to watch August as she thought up a name, biting his lip as he waited eagerly. Mumble. He knew that name from somewhere...Looking back at the penguins, Matt studied them carefully, trying to find one that fit the name; it was then that he pointed to a rather small-looking one standing in the corner of the exhibit, far away from the others, looking at the water almost timidly. "That one's Mumble," he nodded decisively, as if he'd been told so long ago. "And that one--See, over there?--She's Penelope," he pointed as a particularly happy-looking penguin dove into the water.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt looked at August for a moment before shrugging. If she really wanted the truth... "Well, maybe not exciting, but...Nothing really beats my friend Addison's stories, so it's not like you really had a chance." There. That was probably consoling enough, wasn't it? He hoped so. It was the truth, after all. Nobody ever beat Addison in telling stories; she probably would've even been able to tell August's better.

Cocking his head to the side at the mention of Snorlax, Matt searched for a pengiun August was pointing to. He nodded. "Yeah, he looks like he's snoring. What a boring pengiun..." he trailed off, shaking his head at the thing's laziness. Really, who wouldn't want to be up and about on a day like this, pengiun or not?

Shaking his head, Matt made the executive decision that they'd had enough with naming pengiuns. The rest would just be a mystery, to be discovered another day, because they were getting a bit boring. Too much black and white. He turned to look at August again with wide, eager eyes, leaning against the railing surrounding the exhibit so that he lifted himself off the ground a little bit. "Well, now what do you want to do?"