Tom Jones, college dropout (he swears he was kicked), serial dater (he has weak self-control), would be rockstar (if he could sing), and general pretty boy, is sitting on the couch being bored. Actually, flopped might be a better word. Flopped with his jean clad legs draped over one of the couch's arms, converse laces trailing on the floor. His clothes used to be nicer, but that was when someone else was still buying them for him. He could use a hair cut too, and he keeps having to flip it out of his eyes.

He should probably start looking for a job now that he's been kicked out of both school and home.

But he's more content to just mooch. What else are friends for?

Typist: au Tom for the taking.

Tom is a woman again but this time there is a dress. Tom borrowed it from Ada and it was fun at first, but now he has found that he has no idea how to get out of it. And if she should get it off, how would she take care of the things underneath it? Even Tom's hair is done up and she looks like quite the proper lady. But no proper lady should be trying to climb a tree in a corset and full 1850s petticoats. But Tom is certainly going to try. She makes a valiant attempt but after a moment she falls back against the trunk with a gasp. The corset really is too much and she feels a bit faint. Why do women do this?

Tom is sitting somewhere outside being terribly bored. He'd probably really like to talk to Richard. He's been trying to read some books about the future in an effort to understand him better but it's only making him more confused. With a sigh, he turns the page and stares in confusion at a picture of a dinosaur skeleton.

Tom felt hollow; like some vital organ had been ripped from his body leaving only a hole that ached and burned. It would take a while to heal, he knew it, and he also knew it would never really stop paining him. It was like losing Sophia all over again, but also worse somehow. He had gone rather numb this time around. He was almost uncharacteristically calm, not a hysterical fit of emotion in sight.

He dragged himself through the mansion, not really looking up or around. He had people he needed to find. He needed to talk to them, needed to kiss them, needed to know they were there.

Tom thought again. "We could probably find rabbits in the woods." He shifted the gun on his back. "Come along, Richard, we might find something even better to hunt." Without another moment's thought, he grabbed the smaller boy's hand and began pulling him along.

Typist: Mainly for Richard but presumably anyone could come across them.

Tom is out by the porch trying to read. He really isn't a very intellectual young man but at the moment he's trying to overcome that. Something feels like it is missing from his mind and he can't put his finger on it. Everytime he's certain he has it, it slips away. So he sits and reads and tries to forget what he can't remember. But he'd probably llike to be interrupted.

After the meeting with the gentleman Tom is looking for Richard to tell him the (supposedly) good news. He has the apple in one hand, munching on it distractedly, and a white rose in the other. Every now and then he calls out Richard's name.

Tom is, to the say the very least, mad. He doesn't know exactly what has happened to Richard and him and he doesn't even know if who was changed. But he is fairly certain that the gentleman had something to do with it. So he is wandering the mansion and grounds, shouting, "Sir!" at random intervals and most likely looking a right fool. Hopefully he will get some results.

Tom was sitting under his tree again. It technically wasn't his tree, and in fact it seemed to have been claimed by quite a few people, but Tom wasn't the sort to break a habit just because of something silly like ownership. Therefore, he was slumped under the tree as miserably as he could possibly slump. He may have even been sniffling a bit when absolutely certain no one was near enough to see or hear him.

Tom was starting to think that there had to be some sort of divine being that enjoyed watching his life get to the point where it was almost absolutely perfect and then brought everything to pieces just to watch him writhe. He hoped it was bloody well entertained right now.

Tom has cleaned up Richard and put him in his bed. At the moment he's using the other man's bathroom to clean himself up after Richard's zombie incident. He doesn't expect Richard to wake up for a while.

Totally contains adult content...

Tom is trying to learn how to juggle. Unfortunately, no one ever told him how to juggle so he's making it up as he goes. At the moment he's focusing on trying to keep the oranges from all falling at once. It's harder than he thought it would be but he has a large smile on his face and he looks a little rumpled from running about and chasing after the fruit. He seems as perfect and happy as always.

Typist: Huzzah for being fashionably late!

I don't know how it happened.



They bounce! But I don't think Richard is quite happy. He keeps making queer faces.

Tom has decided that the world hates him. Or maybe it loves him? Whatever the case is the universe has an odd sense of humor. Why else would a person from his past and one from his future both decide to pop up within days of one another?

Having come to grips with the meaning of life (to keep him in a state of constant confusion) Tom is now trying to forget it. This is being achieved through the consumption of large amounts of alcohol and the reading of a comic book. Actually, the comic book isn't helping much. But if one is going to be miserable and confused, one might as well be miserable and confused while ogling Jean Grey.

"Richard!" Tom Jones was barreling through the mansion. "Richard!" He was so very excited. He was better now! All of the feelings and the fears were gone. Well, he could sense them under the surface, he could remember it and it had left its mark on him permanently, but the part that made him crazed and scared was gone.

He had to tell people.

"Richard!"

Tom now has his memories returned thanks to Strange and is no longer afraid of touch thanks to Set's crackplot. Unfortunately said crackplot has turned him rather...gay. However, he is blissfully unaware of this side effect and is now roaming the mansion looking for someone to talk to. He feels better than he has in a long time and would love company.

Look! I'm in a movie!

Tom is just awake now and still a little woozy from the drug. He would have gotten out of bed sooner, but it's taking him a while to figure out how to do it without causing unnecessary pain. He is also using this opportunity to look around Richard's room. Like all things different, it is fascinating to him and he probably does not count on being disturbed.

Thanks to Evan Rosier Tom is currently a battered, soaked, quivering wreck huddled under a tree. If anyone would like to help him he would probably be much obliged (after he comes to his senses.)