You would think that with the heat the way it was, outside was the last place Dean would ever think to be. Especially not surrounded by reflective metals and black rubber tires. (The tires had reappeared sometime over the course of the week. Dean suspected strongly at this point that the junk yard just kind of re-filled itself based on whatever ( Read more... )

Been a couple of days now, and things had been going pretty smoothly. Housing would probably be taken care of soon, and the Admirals seemed to be happy with the data he was sending back so far. The only thing that was left to Kaidan right now was finishing the planning for his lessons ( Read more... )

To say that Dean had been maybe holding his breath a little as he approached the junkyard today was probably a pretty fair assessment. Last week had been the garbage candy, the week before had seen the disappearance of every tire in the yard, and the week before that had seen an abundance of them ( Read more... )

"Ooooh-kaaaay."

So, the tires that had been set aside for that big sculpture project were all gone when Dean had come in to the junkyard today.

In fact, so was all of the junk. The entire yard, with the exception of the designated spaceship-freaking-parking-lot off to the other end over there, was full of nothing but tiny, plastic garbage cans ( Read more... )

The Alot of Tires had moved along, and had left Dean with just enough scrap rubber left over to be able to make the tire sculpture that he'd been planning to make last weekend.

Naturally, this meant that Dean was mildly concerned that, out of nowhere, somebody was for some reason going to decide that they needed to come in to pick up a spare tire ( Read more... )

Spare tires.

How in the world did an island with no cars have a scrapyard that had managed to amass so many spare tires?

Dean could work with them, sure. After all, he'd seen some pretty amazing art made out of just scrap rubber and this meant that it would be a long while before he'd run out of materials to work with, but he was still pretty ( Read more... )

Yeah.

So, Dean was taking this whole pony thing in stride, this weekend. Sure, it meant that he couldn't use a welding torch. Sure, it meant that fine motor skills were thrown completely out the window, and he wasn't going to be doing anything remotely resembling art until this all wore off. Sure, he had this crazy urge to go vegetarian for the ( Read more... )

So, the place was starting to look more and more like the kind of scrapyard that Dean could be proud to call his own. It was full of, predictably, garbage of a multitude of sorts, but at least now it was mostly sorted out all neat and tidy, glass from plastic, metal from wood, and all sorts of crap that actually qualified as garbage well out of the ( Read more... )

New students and teachers had arrived on the island, so what better time than tonight to be at the bar? Okay, so maybe not. People really ought to be getting ready to start school, but the possibility was there ( Read more... )

And that was that. After a week of hauling scrap, sorting bits and pieces of junk into piles of all-out garbage, and spare parts that he could sell for a reasonable price to anyone with a knack for mechanics, Dean had actually more or less managed to organize the junk yard. Sure, there was still plenty that was heaped up at odd angles, and he wasn' ( Read more... )