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( His eyebrows go up at that as he sets his glass down. That settles that, then. He's about to ask if Tim wants him to, but he thinks he knows the answer. And he's turned the tables on him too many times to know he shuts down. So, he decides to give him a little information at a time, which also gives Tim the out in case he ever wants it.

He pours the shrimp over the olive oil, filing the pan he's heated. )

Magic, like, my mother thought she'd protect me and my other siblings - and our father - and she made me what I am. With magic. Because, she was a witch.

[ The thing is that objectively Tim knows, he knows that there are all sorts of people around here. Hell, according to Nate there are vampires running around. But there's something about hearing that that makes him throw up a couple blinders, mostly for the sake of self preservation. He chops steadily, measuring his reactions by the slow, even thud of the knife hitting the chopping board. ]

Like a real witch? Not one of those astrology types with the healin' crystals?

She was very adept at her craft.

( He watches Tim as the mood shifts from flirtin' with me to questions and chopping. )

Timothy. ( He roaches out, finger gently brushing Tim's arm and trying to still his wrist. ) I know you've sussed out a few inconsistencies with my childhood and perhaps my accent. My ... traveling. If you wish, you can ask me. About any of it. Something about you disarms me and I find I can trust you. And, if at any time this is too overwhelming. You can leave. Although, I will be disappointed I'll have to eat this shrimp myself. And, if you take your leave I can't go about flirting with you, now can I?

[ The second Klaus's finger touches his wrist, Tim goes very still, the methodical movement of his chopping abruptly halted. He wonders for a second if Klaus can see the way his heart is thudding all of a sudden, not fast but just louder, like his whole body is thrumming with his pulse. If Klaus wasn't wearing gloves, and Tim's shirt wasn't long-sleeved, he wonders what the hell he would've sent over his way, and what Klaus would have given to him in return.

It's a lot to take in on its own, the implication that there's something to question, that Tim has to ask things to understand Klaus, and perhaps strangest of all, the outright confession that Klaus trusts him, for whatever reason. He swallows, thinly, and flexes his grip on the knife before he sets it down. ]

I'm not gonna go, [ he says, carefully. If nothing else, he's just too curious at this point. ] Are you magic like your momma was?

[ Why he says that and not 'mother' or even 'mom', he isn't sure, but it's out there now. ]

( It's the gloves he's wearing that makes him be so open, so physical. But, in truth he's a physical person. And if Tim's long sleeves were shorter or Klaus' gloves off, Klaus may not have hesitated.

He doesn't move his hand however, keeping their covered contact. )

I have no access to real magic, but everything I am is directly because of that magic. ( He lets go then, bringing his hand back. ) I could tell you our entire story, one event into the next, or I can answer more questions. It may come off as a lecture of sorts and that isn't my intention.

[ He wants to ask questions, a lot of them, but the issue is that he doesn't really know where to start. Frowning a little, he sniffs, lifting his head, fixing Klaus with a serious look that isn't overtly hostile. ] Can we finish cookin' first?

Certainly.

( This he has no problem with, removing his hand finally and returning to his task. He finishes the shrimp in the pan, tilting so the olive oil reaches every piece. He turns the shrimp as they go. At times, he does look to Tim, watches him shop or prepare the vegetables he'd chopped in the pan Klaus provided. At one point, Klaus puts the top of his pan to steam a little but and keep the shrimp juicy as he takes another sip from his wine, again, glancing at Tim behind his back.

It's not long before their ready and he pours them over a colander. Taking it in his hand, he shakes, letting the excess oil out before collecting them into a bowl and moving that bowl to the square-shaped dining room table. )

[ In the quiet, Tim has a lot of time to think. This whole place is so fucking weird and he never gives himself enough rope on that score. It's weird, and most of the people here are from worlds so far removed from his own that he can't even begin to comprehend it. Maybe having similar comprehension issues with the world that he now lives in is what's keeping him from just dissolving entirely – it's like a barrier, somehow, keeping him from a complete mental breakdown.

So by the time the food is ready, Tim's... not exactly clear-headed on things, but significantly less unsteady. He has another sip of his wine, which tastes fine, actually, it's nothing special but he can stomach it, and turns around to lean against the counter. Sitting down at the table seems presumptuous, somehow.

He's not terrible at interrogating people. That's not to say he wants this to be an interrogation, but it's how he feels comfortable. If Klaus is going to blindside him, on purpose or otherwise, then he doesn't want to just roll over to that. ]

Okay. You said everythin' you are is because of magic. What are you?

( There food is on the table, their pans on the stove. They stand, oddly in two separate places, but in the same apartment. So, Klaus waits. He doesn't sit yet, either.

He asks a very direct question, so Klaus gives a direct answer. )

I was born a werewolf, although my father and siblings were not aware. My mother had had an affair with a man in the neighboring village. Not long after settling in Virginia, by way of Norway, our brother Henrik died. On the night of the full moon, I'd taken him out of our village. You can guess what happened. Our mother was distraught, and determined not to lose any more of her children. She made it so that our lives couldn't end. There was no word for it then, but I believe the term you may have heard of to be, vampire. ( He knows the term, he just doesn't know how pop-culture obsessed Tim is, or if vampires exist in his reality. ) I'm half werewolf, half vampire. I called myself a hybrid. The hybrid.

[ He should have been prepared for that, on some level at least. Nate already told him about vampires — or at least the one that bit him — and he's had more than enough time to deal with magic considering he has a power now, even if he can barely control it and doesn't really know what it is. But hearing it all at once is... a lot to take in.

Tim doesn't say anything for maybe a minute, his jaw working softly as he takes it in. ]

So d'you – like, turn into a wolf?

[ Maybe he'll freak out about this later. Really freak out, not just stand still, gently nonplussed, chewing the inside of his cheek. He remembers wondering if Klaus could see his heartbeat racing sometime and it worries him a little that maybe he could. ]

( Klaus can, if his heartbeat for quickening. )

It's not my preferred form, but before it was stripped of me thanks to an invasive neural implant, I could. It is not something to be trifled with or taken lightly. In short, you break every bone in your body in order to achieve the transition. Once you're a wolf, there's nothing like it. The freedom.

[ Tim pulls a face; he can't really help it. He glances over at Klaus, his lips pulled up a little at one corner. Weirdly, he hasn't had much exposure to the fact that some people lose powers when they come here, instead of just gaining them. ] So d'you need, like... blood?

It's a bit crass thinking of it like that, as I can still taste and enjoy real food. But, yes. Blood sustains me. Without it, I would desiccate. ( He only lets one moment pass before adding. ) You and every other person here is safe from me. I'm not the rabid sort. El has arranged for blood.

( He keeps back how classy he always was about it, compelling those whose wrists they fed from. Usually from glasses. But, with a daughter in tow, they did store their blood. They still drank from glasses. )

[ Tim's eyes narrow a little. He's just going to get the dumb questions out of the way first, don't mind him. ] Could you turn into a bat?

( His ) No ( Comes out among the laugh he doesn't keep in. ) Garlic does nothing. Likewise, crosses.

Okay. Just coverin' my bases here in case you turn on me. [ Which is a concern, but only in the sense that Tim doesn't reserve a whole lot of trust for most people without proof. ] D'you have fangs? Can't see any right now but then I ain't ever done a very thorough inspection of your teeth, so.

( He does set his glass down, then, and turns back. ) And is that something you've been wanting to do?

Tim blows out a breath through his nose, close to a laugh. Not even a little bit. Just wonderin'.

( Okay. ) I do have fangs, but they aren't always apparent. I have to ... show them.

[ Tim's eyebrows lift up a little, and he nods. ] Right. And – [ Okay, here's the big one. ] How old are you?

( One more. Beat. ) Over a thousand years.

Shit, man.

[ He can't help it, it just blurts out before he can temper himself. He'd been expecting maybe a couple hundred at most, for some fucking reason. ]

Well, you look great.

Thank you, Timothy. You don't look so bad yourself.

I'm told I have a baby face. This ain't about me, though. [ Their food is getting cold. Tim has another sip of wine. ] How are you not sick to death of bein' alive right now?

Well, truth be told I recently died. For good. And from dying, I came here. I see it as a second chance at raising my daughter which is, honestly, still more complicated then the thousand years I spent on Earth. ( He does pick up the glass again, moving back to the table. ) Over the years I've sampled all of life's pleasures. I've learned and studied. I ran for some time, for my life and my family's lives. Stick around for long enough and there's always something new to discover, always another purpose that sustains you. ( He sits then, gesturing for Tim to sit as well. ) I had thought I was done with it, with all of it. I actually felt at peace. ( And now, back out of his head. ) And here I am again. With Hope. And, with you. I believe the shrimp may be cooling off.

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