[01: video] - I hold out for one more drink Before I think I’m looking too desperately

[godofcologne]

[The video flicks on to reveal a dark haired man, grey eyed and looking somewhere between weary and pissed. He's also soaked to the skin, his shirt plastered to a just-muscular-enough chest and dark dark hair dripping wetly into his eyes. For someone who looks like he's been wandering in the rain for an hour or so, Thomas still manages to look very

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[jackedthename]

[Ooh, Jack likes what he sees. Handsome, wet, slightly drunk? Alright, though, he supposes he shouldn't hit on the new arrivals immediately.]

Trust me, mate, if there were a liquor store here I'd have found it already.

[jackedthename]

Oh please, I have kinks Earth won't even hear about for another thousand years.

[godofcologne]

[there's that fleck of bright chrome silver again. Good thing the PCD doesn't show how tightly Thomas' fist is gripped.]

You know they say there isn't anything new that the Romans didn't invent and everyone else forgot, right?

[in this case, though, it's the Etruscans' dirty little secret]

[jackedthename]

[Oh, Jack has noticed, and he's intrigued. This is a smug smirk.] The Romans never went to Raxicoricofallipatorius.

[godofcologne]

[confusion breaks the Hunger's grasp, at least momentarily, and the flecks of silver fade back to dark grey]

Went to where?

[jackedthename]

Little planet with a few rather nasty families on it.

[godofcologne]

A whole planet? Lucky bastards.

[jackedthename]

Bastards is a bit more like it. The Slitheen aren't the nicest.

[godofcologne]

Sounds like a story.

[jackedthename]

Oh, only if you consider one of them trying to destroy Cardiff a story.

[godofcologne]

[that makes him laugh] Normally I consider events that don't end in property destruction stories, but for you I'll make an exception.

[jackedthename]

Well, there was only a bit of property destruction. Probably. Shall we meet up somewhere and I can tell you all about it?

[godofcologne]

[The Hunger urges him to agree, reminding him of how long it has been since he last fed. A week? A few weeks? Thomas wasn't sure. He'd stopped counting time in anything but bottles of scotch and whiskey ever since... He pushes the thought away, buries it deep beneath all the self-deprecation and denial.]

Depends on if you know how to get to the bar. [he taps in the coordinates Raven gave him not too long ago.] Been told by some pretty little thing that there's something to be had here, as long as I keep everything the way I found it.

[jackedthename]

Please, darling, I wouldn't be Torchwood if I didn't know where the bar was. Meet you there?

[godofcologne]

[There's a beat before Thomas answers. It's temptation, to be around humans, especially one who was clearly willing and interested. But the impending hangover and the sobering reality of remembering just how he might have been able to save Harry if he'd not been that idiotically stiff-necked were stronger, and Thomas nods.]

Don't keep me waiting, or I'll have finished everything before you get there.

[he could handle himself.]

[jackedthename]

I'll try not to. On my way. [He will, then, be heading for the bar.]

So, I've given you a few hints about me. Tell me about yourself, Thomas Raith.