[Just an inch taller plus the boots...but there's also the flaming red hair, the eye-patch, the dramatic red and black attire-- he just cuts a very striking figure, that's all. How he managed to wander about Vesuvia whilst wanted for murder without being arrested for so long is anyone's guess.
In any case, he looks up when the other man approaches, the smile that had begun to break across his face swiftly fading at the sight of the split lip. Never mind that he's sporting a scarred lip himself now - a gift from him Dominant whilst he'd been without his healing magic - his concern is palpable nonetheless.]
Oh, are you quite all right? Do you want me to fix that for you?
[He says it, but he's already beginning to tug off one of his gloves before he hears the response.]
[He actually has no idea about Julian's doctoring abilities -- so when the other man starts to tug off one of his gloves, Trevor thinks nothing of it.
He merely lets out a faint chuckle at the offer, shaking his head.]
Barely a scratch, honestly.
[And he probably wouldn't even have been hit if he'd been at the top of his game, but he'd let himself get sloppy because of the drinking, and -- well, it was fine.]
[Trevor's had his fair share of being fretted over in the last week or so (it's been bizarre, mostly) to know that the concern isn't just going to go away. He sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair.]
If you're not going to leave it alone otherwise, all right.
[A good call-- Julian is just the type to fret and worry over someone else's hurts no matter how small they may be, whilst having no care at all for his own health and wellbeing. Physician, heal thyself.
Trevor's response seems to satisfy him, however, and he's already leaning across the space that separates them to press the tips of pale fingers against the other man's bloodied lip.]
It'll be gone in a jiffy.
[He may feel the vaguest tingling sensation as the wound swiftly seals itself shut beneath the press of Julian's fingers, and as it does so a small wound blooms red across Julian's lip, mirroring the exact location of Trevor's injury.]
[He's assuming that the injury on Julian's face is going to heal up at a similar rate to the bites and bruises he remembers leaving on the other man's skin from their first encounter, but that doesn't mean Trevor's not going to watch it carefully anyway.]
[And just as the Dominant suspects, the wound that blooms open on Julian's lip closes up within a matter of moments, and though he looks vaguely dizzy - healing other people's wounds always takes more out of him than healing his own - he otherwise appears fine. He laughs, in fact, a quick warm sound.]
It is somewhat, isn't it? For years I thought it was a curse from my ex, but turns out I misjudged him there.
[He says, smoothly sliding his hand back inside its glove, before moving to lift the tumbler. He eyes the bottle then, caught between a desire to serve and a concern that to pour drink that he hasn't purchased himself might be rude.]
We didn't part on the best of terms, put it that way. Though he's here in this place, and we do seem to be getting along better now.
[It wouldn't at all be considered rude -- at least by Trevor -- but he understands the sentiment well enough, and opens the drink to pour two fingers into each tumbler.]
Mm, is that so? And by 'getting along' you mean...
[Realisation comes over him quickly as he lifts the freshly-poured drink to his lips, pauses half-way to make his response.]
Oh. Hah. No, nothing like that. He has a Dominant whom he seems rather fond of, he doesn't need me hanging around, complicating things. But he's talking to me, and I'm happy to take what I can get.
['Happy'. But look, the truth is, he's glad if Asra is happy, even if he can't be the one to make him feel that way. He'll just pine. Quietly. From a distance.]
[Trevor can't help the half-laugh. It seemed like a reasonable assumption to make, given the circumstances of this place, but Julian clearing up the situation also clarifies some things.]
Well, I'm sure he doesn't mind you around half as much as you think he does.
[If only Trevor knew this mystery ex was Asra. He and the magician have had issues.]
[Perfectly reasonable. Not even especially unreasonable given he and Asra's history, but despite his continued adulation of the magician, he has no intention of getting in the way of what he's already made for himself, here. Knows from past experience, besides, that they're not exactly good for each other.
And for the moment at least, that interesting particle of information re: Asra and Trevor will just have to remain unknown to him.]
Who knows with him, honestly. He's something of the enigmatic type, I never did really understand him. But! I'm sure you don't want to hear me prattle on about my ex-lover all evening. Please, don't let me bore you. I've been told I talk too much.
[Trevor smirks, taking a long and slow drink from his glass.]
I promise I'm not a stunning conversationalist, myself, so you filling in the gaps will probably be better.
[He doesn't know the other man nearly well enough to just sit in silence with him -- that's reserved almost exclusively for Adrian (and Hakkyuu, funnily enough). Whenever he talked, things tended to veer sharply toward the 'dark and depressing turned self-deprecatingly funny', which not everyone appreciated.]
So long as you don't want to know too much about me.
[Sitting in silence is never a likelihood with Julian anyway; it just gives him the perfect opportunity to talk all the more. Still, he makes a flourishing gesture of dismissal with one hand, shakes his head.]
Well, of course I'd like to get to know you better, my dear. But if you are particularly loathe to talk about yourself, then fear not! I can definitely do the talking for both of us.
[He manages a laugh as he sets his drink back down, shaking his head.]
Mm. Most people seem to think my conversation depressing at the best of times, so I can imagine it will only be worse now -- but if you want to ask, be my guest.
[He honestly doesn't mind Julian talking, though, especially because his accent is at least a shade of familiar from the Romanian he's used to.]
Well. We know next to nothing about each other, when one gets down to it. Why don't you start by telling me some basic things, likes and dislikes, things like that?
[He says, before knocking back a slug of his drink. And whilst Julian would be happy to croon away in his Nevivon accent were he to realise the other man likes the sound of it, he's hoping this might help to distract him. Talking about simple things, for a while.]
[For all the time he spent with multiple partners here, there really were only a few people that knew things about him in the way Julian was asking -- mostly because it never seemed to come up during rough sex, or when they were all trapped in a murder camp.
He rubs his neck.]
Y'know, those two lists used to be a lot more cut-and-dry, but this place has made them a little harder to just separate out.
[Before: vampires bad, humans bad but salvageable. Now: vampires not so bad, humans probably unforgivable garbage most of the time. He laughs, though.]
I still hate the Church, though, so there's that. Idiotic zealots, the lot of them, trying to control people by using the things they fear.
[He says it, one brow raised, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and confusion.]
That's um, like the temples and things, isn't it? Religion?
[His world is such a permissive place, so many different cultures tumbled together, different beliefs mixing and enriching each other rather than battling for control or one upmanship. He's been to some places - far off and distant, isolated - that come a little close to that description, but--]
I haven't seen much of that, if I'm honest. Dangerous zealots.
[he says it, a little sorry he asked. Not because he isn't interested, or finds the topic too distasteful. Just that he wonders whether a subject so dark will be doing anything to lift the other man's mood. Still, one way or another, a distraction is a distraction, isn't it? He knocks back another hefty swig of his own drink.]
Well that's, um. It does sound more extreme than anything I've ever encountered. Tied up with religion anyway. Though...come to think of it, whilst we've had numerous wars and the like there's never been anything quite so intense as anyone trying to wipe out a whole race...
[Little does he know, at this juncture, that back in his own world The Devil intends to erase the boundaries between worlds and throw them all into utter chaos. But that's in his future yet, and as such he has nothing to compare it to.]
[Well, maybe Trevor can give him some pointers if he ends up being enlightened about it. Who knows.
This is, it turns out, too old hat to really be all that distressing to Trevor -- at least as long as they're talking about it abstractly, the way that they are now. He raises his glass to Julian.]
To the good luck of your world, then.
As for things that I like -- sparring? I'm partial to the desserts this place makes.
[And he does, because whilst he may be oblivious to the extent of the disaster looming on his horizon, he knows the plague is returning. Or could be, if he doesn't get back some time or other to find his forgotten cure, to put a stop to it. Perhaps with him trapped here it's already too late, even with Lucio among their number in this place-- he may not understand it, but divergent timelines are a thing he's come to know of since arriving here, since hearing that he isn't even the first iteration of himself to have come. For all he knows his own version of his world is steeped in bloody chaos by now but--
--but. He knocks back the rest of his drink. Pushes such thoughts directly from his mind and focuses on Trevor instead. Focuses on what he can do, here in this moment, rather than what is quite beyond him]
Hah, well. I can't say I've tried them, myself. Don't have much of a sweet tooth, really. And you do have the look of a warrior about you.
[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.
[Julian laughs, bright and warm, entirely genuine.]
As if I'd suggest any such thing. No, my darling, I meant you look strong. Capable. It was supposed to be a compliment.
[He pushes his tumbler forward gratefully as he speaks, always willing - it seems - to indulge.]
And is that so? I'm not um, well I suppose if I'm honest I tend to forget about meals, quite often. Busy, and all that. But the food of my own world was just as good, in some places. Far worse in others. I've lived off ship's biscuits for months at a time on occasion, others dined on lobster bisque and steak tartare within a palace walls. I get around, you could say.
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In any case, he looks up when the other man approaches, the smile that had begun to break across his face swiftly fading at the sight of the split lip. Never mind that he's sporting a scarred lip himself now - a gift from him Dominant whilst he'd been without his healing magic - his concern is palpable nonetheless.]
Oh, are you quite all right? Do you want me to fix that for you?
[He says it, but he's already beginning to tug off one of his gloves before he hears the response.]
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He merely lets out a faint chuckle at the offer, shaking his head.]
Barely a scratch, honestly.
[And he probably wouldn't even have been hit if he'd been at the top of his game, but he'd let himself get sloppy because of the drinking, and -- well, it was fine.]
Nothing a stiff drink won't cure post-haste.
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[He won't do it without being told that he can, but it's clear that - small wound or no - his concern isn't about to fade.]
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If you're not going to leave it alone otherwise, all right.
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Trevor's response seems to satisfy him, however, and he's already leaning across the space that separates them to press the tips of pale fingers against the other man's bloodied lip.]
It'll be gone in a jiffy.
[He may feel the vaguest tingling sensation as the wound swiftly seals itself shut beneath the press of Julian's fingers, and as it does so a small wound blooms red across Julian's lip, mirroring the exact location of Trevor's injury.]
There we are, then. All done.
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[He's assuming that the injury on Julian's face is going to heal up at a similar rate to the bites and bruises he remembers leaving on the other man's skin from their first encounter, but that doesn't mean Trevor's not going to watch it carefully anyway.]
Never seen healing magic like that before.
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It is somewhat, isn't it? For years I thought it was a curse from my ex, but turns out I misjudged him there.
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[He relaxes minutely as Julian's lip heals, nudging one of the empty tumblers over to the other man.]
I think that deserves a drink, at least.
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[He says, smoothly sliding his hand back inside its glove, before moving to lift the tumbler. He eyes the bottle then, caught between a desire to serve and a concern that to pour drink that he hasn't purchased himself might be rude.]
We didn't part on the best of terms, put it that way. Though he's here in this place, and we do seem to be getting along better now.
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Mm, is that so? And by 'getting along' you mean...
[Fucking, obviously?]
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Oh. Hah. No, nothing like that. He has a Dominant whom he seems rather fond of, he doesn't need me hanging around, complicating things. But he's talking to me, and I'm happy to take what I can get.
['Happy'. But look, the truth is, he's glad if Asra is happy, even if he can't be the one to make him feel that way. He'll just pine. Quietly. From a distance.]
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[Trevor can't help the half-laugh. It seemed like a reasonable assumption to make, given the circumstances of this place, but Julian clearing up the situation also clarifies some things.]
Well, I'm sure he doesn't mind you around half as much as you think he does.
[If only Trevor knew this mystery ex was Asra. He and the magician have had issues.]
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And for the moment at least, that interesting particle of information re: Asra and Trevor will just have to remain unknown to him.]
Who knows with him, honestly. He's something of the enigmatic type, I never did really understand him. But! I'm sure you don't want to hear me prattle on about my ex-lover all evening. Please, don't let me bore you. I've been told I talk too much.
[By Asra, in fact. Amongst others.]
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I promise I'm not a stunning conversationalist, myself, so you filling in the gaps will probably be better.
[He doesn't know the other man nearly well enough to just sit in silence with him -- that's reserved almost exclusively for Adrian (and Hakkyuu, funnily enough). Whenever he talked, things tended to veer sharply toward the 'dark and depressing turned self-deprecatingly funny', which not everyone appreciated.]
So long as you don't want to know too much about me.
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Well, of course I'd like to get to know you better, my dear. But if you are particularly loathe to talk about yourself, then fear not! I can definitely do the talking for both of us.
[And he flashes a devilish grin.]
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Mm. Most people seem to think my conversation depressing at the best of times, so I can imagine it will only be worse now -- but if you want to ask, be my guest.
[He honestly doesn't mind Julian talking, though, especially because his accent is at least a shade of familiar from the Romanian he's used to.]
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[He says, before knocking back a slug of his drink. And whilst Julian would be happy to croon away in his Nevivon accent were he to realise the other man likes the sound of it, he's hoping this might help to distract him. Talking about simple things, for a while.]
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He rubs his neck.]
Y'know, those two lists used to be a lot more cut-and-dry, but this place has made them a little harder to just separate out.
[Before: vampires bad, humans bad but salvageable. Now: vampires not so bad, humans probably unforgivable garbage most of the time. He laughs, though.]
I still hate the Church, though, so there's that. Idiotic zealots, the lot of them, trying to control people by using the things they fear.
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[He says it, one brow raised, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and confusion.]
That's um, like the temples and things, isn't it? Religion?
[His world is such a permissive place, so many different cultures tumbled together, different beliefs mixing and enriching each other rather than battling for control or one upmanship. He's been to some places - far off and distant, isolated - that come a little close to that description, but--]
I haven't seen much of that, if I'm honest. Dangerous zealots.
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One idiotic bishop decides to kill the wrong doctor for being a "witch", and suddenly Dracula is trying to wipe out the human race.
[This is why nobody wants you to talk, Trevor. He takes a sip of his drink, motioning off to the side with the hand holding the tumbler.]
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[he says it, a little sorry he asked. Not because he isn't interested, or finds the topic too distasteful. Just that he wonders whether a subject so dark will be doing anything to lift the other man's mood. Still, one way or another, a distraction is a distraction, isn't it? He knocks back another hefty swig of his own drink.]
Well that's, um. It does sound more extreme than anything I've ever encountered. Tied up with religion anyway. Though...come to think of it, whilst we've had numerous wars and the like there's never been anything quite so intense as anyone trying to wipe out a whole race...
[Little does he know, at this juncture, that back in his own world The Devil intends to erase the boundaries between worlds and throw them all into utter chaos. But that's in his future yet, and as such he has nothing to compare it to.]
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This is, it turns out, too old hat to really be all that distressing to Trevor -- at least as long as they're talking about it abstractly, the way that they are now. He raises his glass to Julian.]
To the good luck of your world, then.
As for things that I like -- sparring? I'm partial to the desserts this place makes.
[Processed sugar is a trip, Julian.]
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[And he does, because whilst he may be oblivious to the extent of the disaster looming on his horizon, he knows the plague is returning. Or could be, if he doesn't get back some time or other to find his forgotten cure, to put a stop to it. Perhaps with him trapped here it's already too late, even with Lucio among their number in this place-- he may not understand it, but divergent timelines are a thing he's come to know of since arriving here, since hearing that he isn't even the first iteration of himself to have come. For all he knows his own version of his world is steeped in bloody chaos by now but--
--but. He knocks back the rest of his drink. Pushes such thoughts directly from his mind and focuses on Trevor instead. Focuses on what he can do, here in this moment, rather than what is quite beyond him]
Hah, well. I can't say I've tried them, myself. Don't have much of a sweet tooth, really. And you do have the look of a warrior about you.
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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.
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As if I'd suggest any such thing. No, my darling, I meant you look strong. Capable. It was supposed to be a compliment.
[He pushes his tumbler forward gratefully as he speaks, always willing - it seems - to indulge.]
And is that so? I'm not um, well I suppose if I'm honest I tend to forget about meals, quite often. Busy, and all that. But the food of my own world was just as good, in some places. Far worse in others. I've lived off ship's biscuits for months at a time on occasion, others dined on lobster bisque and steak tartare within a palace walls. I get around, you could say.
[And here he lifts a brow, quite suggestive.]
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