If you didn't know they weren't, the general asumption would be that James and Thomas are brothers. However, Captain Ward is not related to his guitar-weilding bandmate Davies. They both attended the same schools, concerts and band events. They both dress in black, toe to top, but Tom wound up remaining in school a bit longer and has only 6 years of experience to James' 7 on the force. Tom's specialty rests in chemicals and explosions - he likes fires, but the kinds that you can put out the hard way. He loves playing with chemicals, and is never elected to drive when they have to retrieve a bomb. He drives like a madman.

Tall and skinny like Davies, Tom has slightly more normal caucasian skin tone, a broad jawline, and while his haircut is 'mod' he keeps his eyes under prescription sunglasses at all times - mostly to look good. It's not a well known secret, Tom's eyes are very sensitive to light, but he can distinguish many more colors than the rest of the 'normal' folk can. Tom is very proud of his Evil Shoes, as well as his bass guitar. Don't touch it. Those evil shoes will wind up somewhere very uncomfortable.

The band that he and Jim front is a kind of retro-mod-Ska thing called the GraveDigger Five*. Though they are quite good at their day-jobs, these guys truly put on a great show.

Of course, Thomas has to have a black flit. This moody little boy grooves on his shoulder but remains silent at all times.

Decembember is his name. Don't ask why.

Egg hatched from Darkling Dawn Weyr!

Weyr Eriol was an adventure and a half. Well, at least half an adventure. Thom was annoyed because everyone kept asking him why he wore his sunglasses indoors. He'd long since trained the folks at the station not to ask, or for the n00bs to be told in advance so they didn't bother him.

Here, he felt kind of like he should be wearing a t-shirt that said, "they're prescription, stop asking me." But then again... Did half the people (and sometimes he had to use the term loosely because weren't there some odd things running around at weyrs like this?) even read English?

He was glad he brought his bass, and glad that he had a new little dark flying friend to keep him company. He could practice without an amplifier, tapping his Evil Shoes against the solid floor for time, and humming a tune while imagining himself on the stage at the nearby pub.

Not that he'd ever trade his day job, but that night job sure was fun.

***

It was a hot day, a day that Thom almost thought he was overdressed. But Decembember didn't think so, his claws dug into the turtleneck that Thom wore, and they stalked around in the halls looking cool together. Then, an excited bugle split the silence, and suddenly everyone and their brother were running down to the sands.

Thom strolled in, carefully took the white over-garment, and shooed Dece off to where the other waiting flitters sat. There were a good number of eggs, but there were also a number of fine candidates. Thom's stomach wrenched when the eggs began to crack open, and almost uniformly they disgorged duplicate or opposite dragons! Twins, in each egg? Almost every one...

But they kept coming, and kept walking past him. Most dragons didn't even bother looking around him. Maybe he was just too old for this. Maybe....

A bunch of eggs were broken, energetically, by one hatchling. So now a whole handfull of dragonets of every splayed color they came in, were trip-trooping across the sands. One of them, a nice normal looking brown, found his way to Thom's side. But the hazmat specialist wasn't looking down, he was still gazing around at the sands.

From his leg, Thom felt a tugging.

Hey! Hello! Down here! Adoth to Thom! Adoth to Thom Ward! The dragonet cried, while pulling on the dark pantleg that stuck out from the white candidates cloth. Feeed me!

The dragon finally caught his eye, and Thom swore that he looked all innocenty-cute. Great. But he knew the name, Adoth, and spoke it aloud. "Adoth, you are hungry. You're making me hungry. Let's get you fed, and then I can show you around."

That sounds like a plan, dark eye man.

Thom's thick eyebrow flickered. He had a rhyming dragon? He hoped that would be a phase...