[ Trevor Belmont isn't one to think the fates smile on him or that God will cut him a break. There's never such a thing, especially as Sypha continues to prattle on about how they need to travel the countryside in order to protect the people. Not that he disagrees, mind you.
He simply doesn't like being told what to do.
Imagine his surprise once he walks down the stone entry way into what ought be a crypt. Only to find the remnants of a wooden room of sorts. A library? Perhaps it was even a town hall at one point. He sighs, tilting his head back as he closes his eyes. No doubt Dracula's horde had come through and cleaned out the town some months ago. His eyes close as he then hears something shuffling in the background.
A long sigh comes from him. ]
If you're here to gut me, flay me, or turn me into a lampshade... please, do us a favor. Just leave.
i say we merge both ideas, blame shaft + ♣ & ♦ (♠ later)
He simply doesn't like being told what to do.
Imagine his surprise once he walks down the stone entry way into what ought be a crypt. Only to find the remnants of a wooden room of sorts. A library? Perhaps it was even a town hall at one point. He sighs, tilting his head back as he closes his eyes. No doubt Dracula's horde had come through and cleaned out the town some months ago. His eyes close as he then hears something shuffling in the background.
A long sigh comes from him. ]
If you're here to gut me, flay me, or turn me into a lampshade... please, do us a favor. Just leave.