
It had been... what, two weeks now?
The sand felt strange under his feet; the first time around, Yesterday hadn't exactly been focused on gathering data. He'd recorded all that had happened, but he was mainly focused on replaying what went down in the pod than he was paying attention to everything around him.
There were no beaches back home, or oceans or sand, or the seagulls that flew overhead. He missed the sound of machinery, the distant clicking of the machines and the cold, hollow echo of metal hallways. Wait... was he even programmed to miss things?
Yesterday shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his internal mechanisms balancing him out as the and moved under him. What a strange feeling. Unlike the others who dotted the beach - few and far between at this time of day - Yesterday wore a full length coat, tall boots, gloves, a scarf and had a transparent umbrella in hand. Humans wore this kind of stuff, didn't they?
But not here, apparently. They showed their skin here, something that he wouldn't do. He knew his skin was odd, slippery and ghostly white, while theirs came in every other colour and was soft and warm to the touch.
He stood there like some sort of bizarre, pale beacon. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to feel something? Did humans find his behaviour odd?