emptynight: (sword)
[The impact with the ground triggers the PCD's on button and the video flicks on. The camera has landed against a rock or something, giving it a skewed view of the sky, of skeletal trees and grey clouds. There's movement though, against the trees. A familiar figure, usually careless and flippant, with a pet name and some irritating compliment on his lips. This time, however, Thomas looked focused, and he moves with lean, predatory grace as the cavalry saber in his hands gleams silver. He's moving between the stand of anemic trees, sparring against invisible opponents, practicing or reliving some old encounter, every so often the saber biting through a tree limb to send it to the ground.

The feed continues in this vein for a few minutes, before a sweep of silver above the PCD sends a skeletal tree branch falling on top of the PCD, obscuring its view once more.
]
emptynight: (moment of serenity)
The tombstones popped up overnight like mushrooms after rain. Thomas had ignored them at first, dismissing them as another quirk of the strange place he'd found himself. He'd been busy anyway, rearming himself with a rough, rust-pitted kukri he salvaged and an old cavalry saber. It didn't fit quite as well in his hand as his own did, but that would change. In time.

So it wasn't until the second or third day that he took the time to look at the tombstones themselves. He wouldn't have then, even, if a glint of gold hadn't caught his eye. A pentacle of gold set in white marble. Directly above it, the words HERE LIES HARRY DRESDEN,. Below, HE DIED DOING THE RIGHT THING. Once Thomas saw those words, his eye never stopped seeking them out even as he forced himself to look away. Which was how he noticed the other tombstone.

It wasn't as well cared for, simple grey stone instead of polished marble, worn and covered in a thick coat of moss and ivy. Only two words could be read amid the ivy and crumbling stone, but they were more than enough to convince Thomas he didn't want to see the rest. JUSTINE... BELOVED. And no matter how quickly he walked away from the pair of tombstones, the twin monuments to his greatest failures, he would find them again in the fog, appearing ahead the moment he thought they had been left behind.

It was fitting, somehow.
But heartache and misery Ain't nothing but a tragedy )
emptynight: (keeping decent)
[About five minutes ago, a sharp popping sound could have been heard from one of the emptier buildings in the city. And only now does the video come on, with Thomas looking disheveled, to put it mildly. He's got yellow pulp clinging to his hair, and his clothes are clinging to him again, this time covered in what looks like apple juice.]

[still, he doesn't look particularly embarrassed, just a little sheepishly smirky]



So, fermenting apple cider explodes. Who knew.


[ooc: on-line or off, either is fine. He'll be cleaning up his mess for a good long while, plenty of time for multiple people to drop by.]
emptynight: (even more drinking)
[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 attractive. Some people can just pull off the drowned rat look, it would seem. He eyes the camera skeptically, the swings it wide to show a couple of dilapidated buildings.]

Who the hell moved the liquor store?

[The fact that he doesn't even seem to be in Chicago anymore? Doesn't seem to bother Thomas for the moment.]
emptynight: (staring up)
Canon: The Dresden Files
Character: Thomas Raith
Timeline: Thomas will be taken from the period between the books Changes and Ghost Story.
I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine. )

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Thomas Raith

February 2020

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