Never Sleeping, The Party Continues.

[poweroflegend]

Who: Trevor Belmont (poweroflegend) and Helen (troublewaking )
Where: Thorn
When: Morning of March 26, the last day of Trevor's recovery period.
Summary: Trevor's offered drinks in exchange for Helen taking over his shift. Number 22 has come to collect.
Rating: PG for language at most?

Comments

[troublewaking]

It was amazing that Helen didn't come sooner rather than later. Trevor hit the nail on the hit when he assumed that she wasn't the type to turn down free drinks. But there was no point in being greedy was there? Especially when she was just pulling her own weight.

But hey, it wasn't often that someone treated a Claymore. That was one of the things that Helen liked best about World's End -- no one had ostracized her kind. Not that they had any right to. So if Trevor wanted to buy her a drink, she'd be more than happy to let him.

Helen removed the large sword from across her back as she entered Thorn. For the only bar around, it had always been surprisingly peaceful there. She doubted she needed the weapon. And even if a fight did break out this time...well, she doubted she needed the weapon.

"Hey there." Helen greeted the man as she claimed a seat for herself. "Looks like you beat me here. You must be on the mend." She smirked a bit before looking down at Gal. "And who's your friend?"

Back! Sorry for the wait.

[poweroflegend]

Morning light flooded the Thorn's dusky interior. The next thing Trevor knew the huntress was heading his way with the massive sword of her 'guild' slung across her back. He caught a flash of silver from under a blond wisp of hair and that reminded him of a question he'd dwelt on once: were the Claymores all blood-related?

No, obviously not. He'd decided then that the likeness in their physical traits (which despite their uniformity, wasn't much) was where any sort of familial resemblance ended. If any, they were more alike in mindset and disposition. Cold, calculating, professional. And ruthless if need be.

Not so much Helen though. While she came across as having those traits, she also seemed more... alive, than her comrades ever had. It was in the carefree tilt of her eyebrow and the smirk on her lips. Such things would have set off warning bells in the minds of others. Not Trevor. He welcomed it, was rather drawn to it, and he found himself responding to her in kind

No problem! And ditto! x.x Crazy week.

[troublewaking]

"Not much of a drinker, are you Gal?" Helen's eyes flashed back to Trevor as he offered her a drink. "I guess I'll just have to drink enough for the both of us." She took it, waiting for his words of gratitude before tossing it back.

And she was already signaling for a refill.

"You make that sound like a bad thing." Helen grinned. "Although, just laying around all day lacks a little something in the entertainment department." She shrugged while holding on to this second drink a little longer. "I've never been much for just sitting around, so maybe I should be thanking you."

*spoils n' comforts*

[poweroflegend]

Helen drained her round with such gusto that Trevor couldn't help a lifted eyebrow of pleasant surprise. That delicate frame was deceptive, for beneath it was a drinker on par with the heartiest of men. Not what he'd been expecting, but then again maybe he should've. She had responded well to free liquor in the first place.

"Consider it a favor. I could never wish idle hands on people used to being busy. Certainly not in these cursed lands." Trevor followed her lead and felt his frontal aches roll back by several inches. "Get complacent here, and you put yourself in peril."

He thumbed the stem of his tankard in thought. "On the other hand, there doesn't seem much that could threaten a high-ranked huntress like yourself, is there?" Trevor did recall her saying she was above Clare in whatever ranking system the Claymores used. He didn't know if pure skill was what determined those ranks, but Clare had already seemed very competent to him. What more those above her?