[Trevor sets his jaw with a bit of a smirk. Yes, the alcohol is doing well to kick in and dull the edges of the ache that he still feels in his chest -- he'll be able to ignore it for a hair's breadth longer, anyway.]

That's a kind way of saying I look punch-able, isn't it?

[He finishes his drink and sets the empty tumbler on the table, splashing more whiskey into the glass and offering to do the same for Julian, should the other man want the same.]

Not much of a sweet tooth? That's a shame. Although the food here is -- incredible, compared to the moldy bread of Wallachia.