betterthanaplan: (the ukelele)
Duke's class this morning had gone well. His appointment yesterday had gone well. His dreams had been reasonably kind lately, and Octavia seemed to be slowly but surely starting to adjust to being back in Fandom.

Life was generally good for Duke just now. It wasn't destined to last, but hey, that just meant he had to enjoy it while he had it, right?

So he was chilling on his deck, cold beer at hand courtesy of a cooler under his feet, his ukulele in his lap, idly strumming and singing.

Surfing was good for the soul, okay?

[open!]
betterthanaplan: (the ukelele)
It was warmer again, because apparently this part of the country didn't know what winter meant. Duke wasn't complaining, though; he'd missed hanging out on deck in his idle afternoons, watching the porgs gambol about, and strumming idly on his ukulele. . . .

It was maybe an odd choice of song, but really, you couldn't run across a Talking Heads ukulele cover on the internet and not want to try it out yourself. Or at least, Duke couldn't.

[open!]

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Duke Crocker

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