[There's a kind of romance to it, the idea of one person that you get all of your sustenance from. It's like something from a novel, if that novel took a very generous view of vampires; one of those ridiculous cheap one-Shield romance stories where the lead was a delicate flower who swooned into the arms of a dark and sultry villainous lover. Ridiculous, but you can kind of get where they're coming from.]

[Gepard finally acquiesces to the idea, albeit with apparent reluctance. He makes it seem very much like he doesn't really want to be doing this, but that he's giving in at Sampo's insistence. On some level, he knows it's horseshit-- who would really turn down free food, delivered right to them, for practically nothing? He'd be more amused if he knew about the inner machinations of Gepard's brain, and the way he thought about his pretty eyes and handsome face.]

It's a deal, then! [He smiles and leans in. Won't you take his hand, Gepard, and shake on it?] And don't worry, I like dangerous places. I don't mind following you there.

[Ah, but if he's going to do this, than he needs information! Information is a very important thing, he knows that intimately. And he needs information quick, if he's going to start this new job.]

What do you like? [Other than handsome rogues with green eyes, apparently.] If I'm going to start feeding you, I need to know your preferences!