...While they are still on good terms

[Wharil Choc]

The air was gtetting cooler these days. Something about it appealed to Wharil. He'd been standing on the front porch for quite some time now, watching the wind toss the early changing leaves from some uncertain place, down the sidewalk just beyond the fence, and off to yet another uncertain place. They were on the cusp here. Where he came from there was no fall season. The leaves did not brace themselves. There was the verdant rainy season, and a sudden choking dry. Here he could observe natures transition, and took the time to do so. Eventually he does go inside. Eventually, he wanders through the house and his usual jittery leg bounce translated into an oddly slow wandering and tap-tap-tapping of his lip. He didn't seem to be watching where he was going, but something suggested he at least knew where he was going. And that something was his eventual knocking on Rene's room door.

[Rene Vitalli]

*So often, social interactions went terribly awry when Rene was involved in them. Offence taken, given. Subtle clues and innuendo that she often missed completely, or simply can't seem to respond to in the expected manner. It was always like that. Always had been. And if the other night in Wharil's apartment was any indication, always would be. Her only companions the spiders that sought her whether she wanted them or not, now crawling over her room like an army. She'd been going through the last few days, too much time to think and too little to do. Too much on her mind, a terrible condition for someone who only seemed to excel in and understand matters of the body. She'd just finished reassembling her gun for the fourth time when a knock comes at the door. She takes a moment to put her weapon where it should be Everything in its place before she opens the door and steps aside. As though she'd been expecting him. She stands silently out of the way, face placid, presence one of stark alien malice. Then there's that too small voice.* Wharil.

[Wharil Choc]

"Hi Rene." Already his greeting is something soft, hesitant. The corners of his lips come up in an odd expression just short of a smile, and as instinct his eyes cast about the room, noting the neat order to it. And of course, the spiders that skittered about here and there. "You have a minute? Can I come in?"

[Rene Vitalli]

Yes. *A blink and a subtle inclination of her head. A nod. She waits until he's stepped inside to trap him inside lock the door behind him. Rene takes a seat on the single wooden chair, curtly gesturing he sit on the bed. The room smells faintly of gun oil and.. grapefruit.* What do you need? *Almond eyes scrutinize too closely. Too intent. Uncomfortable, vaguely predatory, and unblinking.*

[Wharil Choc]

Its not that he was getting used to any of this. These predatory glances, the constant sizing up and, to his mind, deciding where best to sleep a blade between his ribs. it was just that...he couldn't exactly stay away forever. Or could he. Wharil sat slowly on the bed, careful not to ruffle her sheets or spring whatever traps were waiting for him there. (Which is just crazy, right? Who keeps traps in the bed?) He swallows hard, and tries not to move around too much. And in particular, he tries not to shake his leg. "I wanted to apologize, actually. About my behavior the other night. I acted really...stupidly. And you don't deserve that kind of grief from me. I'm sorry."

[Rene Vitalli]

*An eyebrow twitches up. She'd been expecting a lecture on Jhor. Not an apology. The stunning woman looms forward, watching Wharil and considering an appropriate response. Eyes seeming to strip skin from muscle, as though trying to flay him layer by layer to get to the bones of whats beneath. Her hands twitch at her sides a moment. No, not that. Touching him not the answer here.* They live in abandoned buildings.

[Wharil Choc]

His breath and body were steady, but in truth Wharil's mind was racing. He wasn't exactly sure how this would turn out. And as she picked him apart so meticulously with her eyes she might have seen the soft tensing of muscle, the bob of his throat as he swallowed, or a slight sheen of perspiration smearing his brow. And then...utter confusion? "Uh...wh-who lives in abandoned buildings?"

[Rene Vitalli]

The Brown Recluse. *A small black spider shambles across the bed and over the curve of Wharil's knee. Rene's eyes snap to it, then away. To the face of the nervous young man across from her. She notes his confusion with a hard look. Confusion of her own. What was there not to get? It seemed painfully redundant, but she explains never the less.* The apartment complex is abandonned. Your apartment complex is abandonned. *Rene lifts her chin, not sure how to make it any more obvious. There is silence a moment before she glares at Wharil in question.*

[Wharil Choc]

His expression smoothed into one of comprehension, and then realization. "Oh. I understand." Wharil's lips pursed together. There was more to say, obviously. There was also something he wasn't going to say. "So yeah, like I said. Sorry."

[Rene Vitalli]

I.. *Rene cuts herself off, eyes skating to the spider now crawling along the wall. A moment to recollect her thoughts. The eerie black woman rises gracefully from her seat and looks at Wharil like she's idly contemplating where to bury his body. Her lips quirk into a muted frown.* How is your back?

[Wharil Choc]

"Fine. Just fine. All patched up and right as rain. Though, I got bitten the other day too, and that required some more patching up. If my old cabal heard about all the healing I've been getting I think they'd put me through a basic training course all over again. Can't say it'd be a bad idea. I must be rusty or something." He quirks his lips into a half a smile. At least it was a softer expression than the nervous worry he'd previously been wearing.

[Rene Vitalli]

*A ghost of a smile. At best a smirk. And Rene ushers him out while they are still on good terms.* I will see you soon.