(Untitled)

[giftedthom]

*The back door opens, and Thom drifts in. He looks terrible: wet through with snow, wearing last week's thin black clothes. He goes on bare feet to a table, sits down, and rests his chin in his hands; closes his eyes.

After a few minutes, he shivers, opens them, and orders Atlantean.*

Comments

[eldorne_girl]

Thom?

[giftedthom]

Hey, Delia.

[eldorne_girl]

[bluntly]

You look terrible.

[giftedthom]

*He laughs.* If I look half as bad as you do, I should go into hiding immediately.

*And drinks.*

[shall_go_free]

Xas approaches, bare feet nearly silent against the floor.

"Drinking voluntarily, Thom?"

Xas didn't think he had it in him, mayhap.

[giftedthom]

You have no idea how much I used to -- can drink.

[shall_go_free]

"I didn't imagine you got much pleasure from it, or have you become a sybarite while I was so long absent?"

[giftedthom]

Whatever the fuck that is.

[un_fallen]

Raguel sees the Atlantean as a more troubling warning sign than the cold and wet. He wanders over in a nonchalant manner, picks up the glass and downs a hefty amount of it, leaning against the table.

There is some coughing, but he recovers pretty well.

[giftedthom]

It's a little strong.

[un_fallen]

"Yeah, I remember," he chokes, recovering.

"Why are you drinking it?"

[giftedthom]

I thought I might like to.

*To prove it, he swallows another mouthful of the stuff.*