for godric;

[doesitanyway]

[ It's been about a week and a half since monsters ran loose through the city, turning Trevor into a beast himself. A kind stranger had offered to deliver him somewhere safer than roaming the streets as a monster, and the first person Trevor had thought of to help him was Godric. His instinct there hadn't been wrong -- even after turning back and finding the Safehouse was unfit for habitation, the ex-vampire had offered him a place to stay and hadn't turned him out yet. Of course once the shared space is repaired Trevor won't overstay his welcome (even if he might want to, given how luxurious Godric's apartment is) but he's rather enjoying getting to return to Godric's each evening. Not just for the accommodations, but the company.

Tonight he's decided to try something completely different. Instead of picking up takeout or relying on Godric's culinary skill, he's left work early to stop for some groceries and beat Godric home, determined to make their evening meal himself. Hopefully it won't be a complete disaster.

Trevor keeps it simple -- he knows how to make stew and that seems like it'd be to Godric's taste as well. When Godric does get home he'll smell it finishing cooking, and find Trevor fiddling with the oven buttons to find the right temperature to bake the par-done bread he picked up to go along with it. He glances up at the sound of the door, the footsteps coming towards the kitchen. ]

Ah good, you're home. I've decided to try and earn my keep, so to speak.

Comments

[powerofgod]

（ one day, he is certain, the novelty of walking in the sun amidst humans will no longer be a wonder. for now, he revels. explores the streets, speaks with merchants and vendors that no doubt would eschew the title in favor of words like retailer and cashier. this is not his world, nor his time. but he can imagine that perhaps the one that miss stackhouse knew would evolve to this. there is a pulse beneath the city, wide and vibrant, and he has a predator's awareness of it, for all that he is human now.

it is what lures him from his apartment. and as the sun sinks below the horizon, it is why he returns.

his apartment is not still. he realizes it as the door slides open, and by the time the smell of food hits him he is halfly smiling, head canted as he pads silently to the kitchen and sits, quite demurely, at the island facing the stove. ）

So I smell. It would appear you have a reasonable talent, my friend.

[doesitanyway]

[ Trevor finally manages to make the numbers read 375 and the oven begins to pre-heat, freeing him to turn and lean back against the counter to look at Godric. He flaps one hand as if waiving the compliment away -- it's certainly not something he's used to getting. ]

Sometimes, one tires of tavern slop and manages a hunt that deserves better. This is processed bug meat, of course, but hopefully it won't be too different.

[ Also it cooks to tender much faster than venison would, an unexpected benefit. It should be done about when the bread is. ]

How was your day?

[powerofgod]

The sun was warm. The people did not flee from me in the streets. I count these things as being the hallmarks of a good day, do you not agree?

（ his tone has a faint, amused lilt to it. perhaps he is teasing. ）

How did you find yours?