Trevor, I grew up the son of a doctor and an inventor who hoarded knowledge lost to humanity thrice older. It'd be a shock if I wasn't smart. Or taught to have manners, as that was the first thing my mother remarked upon after she met my father.

[So...smartass for now.

The dhampir's footsteps are still silent as he walks over to the sofa, and there is no noise as he settles atop the cushions. There are only keen gold eyes looking over at Trevor, trying to divine the purpose of talking.]

Usually a variation of "we need to talk" doesn't bode well, Trevor.