"It's the energy," he replied sagely. It was the only reason he'd managed to spend so much time in London.
"Eh," Mircea waved his hand dismissively. "Haggis is easy. Anyone can get their hands on a sheep's stomach and fill it with offal and onions. I'm talking the truly bizarre. But I suppose you're right. There's got to be someone in this town that can get their hands on some weird shit." An entire town of the magical and cursed, and no one could get their hands on a bowl of bird's nest soup? That would be pretty tragic. "Uh..." He glanced up at the sky as though the answer to her question was written in the stars, though mostly he was just trying to count backwards. "Since before the Berlin Wall came down, but not much before that. I didn't really spend much time wandering the states before I ended up here. Though I did do a brief stint in the colonies a couple hundred years ago."
Her laugh elicited one from him as well. "No, I suppose not." Interesting. Not the answer he'd expected, but then, he was probably a lot easier to kill so he had perhaps a greater reason to be wary. "Seems dangerous," he said finally. "I've always erred on the side of caution, yanno? Too many close shaves."