( he is beyond caring. there was a time and a place his secrets were sacrosanct, but now? he is scarcely attached to them as anything beyond what shaped him. )
I had no shortage of human companions in my nest. Due to the nature of our arrangements, it was often necessary to provide them with food. Cooking interested me for a time, and I received few complaints as to my skill.
Alright... what was the cause? I hope you didn't find yourself mistreated.
[ It's even odds that's the case and Godric doesn't care after so long, or that it's something less fraught. And the explanation about cooking makes a great deal of sense. ]
And now you'll get to benefit from your own abilities.
( he tips his head to one side. considering, as he mulls over his soup, stirring it soundlessly, without the metallic ting of the knife against the side of his bowl. it is still slightly too hot for his preference. )
I was the son of a king. Pain was necessary. I learned fighting, broke bones, took injury. And I have many tattoos, tests of said tolerance.
( he lifts the spoon. the soup is now about the temperature of blood. he supposes it is a holdover. )
Then, I was a slave to a vampire master. He did not put stock in kindness.
( trevor is a compassionate sort. an odd thing in a vampire hunter, to bleed so for a creature he is sworn to hate. yet godric finds he does not mind it overmuch. this rough-around-the-edges boy puts him very much in a mind of eric when he least expects the comparison to arise. he gestures a bit with his spoon. )
And I suppose I will, yes. I trust you will come to dinner often, that I may see to it you are fed.
[ Trevor watches, listens, sips his own soup and appreciates it. He's glad to hear that Godric's human family wasn't specifically abusive -- he also learned to fight and sustained injuries as a child, at least, it doesn't seem done from cruelty. He doesn't personally know how much a tattoo hurts, but if it's what was done in Godric's culture they are probably badges of honor he was praised for enduring.
He both does and doesn't want to hear about the vampire master, and debates it briefly before deciding it might put him off his soup. Another time, perhaps. ]
I see. I don't have any tattoos... what and where are yours? I've heard placement matters.
[ He can't help the smile that curves his mouth at Godric's sideways offer to feed him, softer and more genuine than when he smirks out of amusement. This is an appreciate expression that Godric may not have really seen on him yet. ]
You may, of course. I will never turn food down, but do I look underfed?
( he may be a barbarian, born savage and without civility in the eyes of the roman high society of the time, but he is hardly going to take his shirt off at the dinner table. instead, idly, he tugs the collar of his shirt askew to show off the one done just beneath his collarbones. it was a sign of nobility among his people.
unintended, perhaps, is the fact that this also reveals he has two oddly elongated (and sharp, no doubt) teeth on a strip of leather around his neck. )
The others are on my biceps and down my spine. You'll forgive me if I do not strip to show you. As to the food — not necessarily, no, but it is a courtesy and a custom of my people.
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no subject
( he is beyond caring. there was a time and a place his secrets were sacrosanct, but now? he is scarcely attached to them as anything beyond what shaped him. )
I had no shortage of human companions in my nest. Due to the nature of our arrangements, it was often necessary to provide them with food. Cooking interested me for a time, and I received few complaints as to my skill.
no subject
[ It's even odds that's the case and Godric doesn't care after so long, or that it's something less fraught. And the explanation about cooking makes a great deal of sense. ]
And now you'll get to benefit from your own abilities.
no subject
I was the son of a king. Pain was necessary. I learned fighting, broke bones, took injury. And I have many tattoos, tests of said tolerance.
( he lifts the spoon. the soup is now about the temperature of blood. he supposes it is a holdover. )
Then, I was a slave to a vampire master. He did not put stock in kindness.
( trevor is a compassionate sort. an odd thing in a vampire hunter, to bleed so for a creature he is sworn to hate. yet godric finds he does not mind it overmuch. this rough-around-the-edges boy puts him very much in a mind of eric when he least expects the comparison to arise. he gestures a bit with his spoon. )
And I suppose I will, yes. I trust you will come to dinner often, that I may see to it you are fed.
no subject
He both does and doesn't want to hear about the vampire master, and debates it briefly before deciding it might put him off his soup. Another time, perhaps. ]
I see. I don't have any tattoos... what and where are yours? I've heard placement matters.
[ He can't help the smile that curves his mouth at Godric's sideways offer to feed him, softer and more genuine than when he smirks out of amusement. This is an appreciate expression that Godric may not have really seen on him yet. ]
You may, of course. I will never turn food down, but do I look underfed?
no subject
unintended, perhaps, is the fact that this also reveals he has two oddly elongated (and sharp, no doubt) teeth on a strip of leather around his neck. )
The others are on my biceps and down my spine. You'll forgive me if I do not strip to show you. As to the food — not necessarily, no, but it is a courtesy and a custom of my people.