The Death of Me

[Wharil Choc]

He puts the pot on the stove. Wharil hasn't noticed Rene at the doorway. He's too busy rooting through a kitchen he's unfamiliar with, trying o find a ladle, a bowl, and a spoon. When he has, he takes the lid off the pot and the smell of something savory fills the kitchen quickly. The broth he ladles out is thick, and for some reason, green. Its also filled with chunks of vegetables and some unidentified meat. Wharil covers the pot again and, bowl in hand, heads for the-- "Holy SHIT!" He starts as he turns and sees Rene standing there, obviously startled. So much so that the bowl of...whatever it was, spills slightly onto the floor before he can right it all. "Jeez. Rene. You scared me. How long have you been standing there?"

[Rene Vitalli]

Since you brought in the pot. *Her eyes on him are cold and dark, an eyebrow raised in question. Its a few uneasy moments before the striking black woman leans forward and sniffs pointedly, before moving to ladle herself some into a bowl as well. Not asking, he'd not have brought it here were it not to share after all. She murmurs in that small polite voice, a glance over her shoulder.* Had I been here longer you would have noted the spiders. They're a liability.

[Wharil Choc]

He sets the bowl down on a counter and gets himself a sponge to wipe up the spilled soup with. "Yeah, I guess in that sense they kinda are." Wharil stands, regarding his bowl and taking a spoonful, savoring it a little. "This is Caldo, by the way. Caldo Verde. There's uh...collard greens, I think they call it. Stewed down. This one has pork in it. And some other veggies." Wharil moves a chunk of corn still on the cob, spooning up the broth and hardly recognizable greens. "It was my grandfather's favorite. We'd make it every year since he died. Sort of...welcoming him back on the day he visits. That was the idea anyway. But uh...I don't know how to make a little bit of it."

[Rene Vitalli]

mm. *She inclines her head in a nod, putting the lid back on the pot and turning to lean against the counter. The food is glared at carefully, before her fingers walk along the counter, locate a spoon and she begins to eat Caldo dispassionately. Perhaps she didn't appreciate the story. Or the soup? But she had asked.. or had she? After a few spoonfuls without conversation, the kitchen falls into a tense sort of silence. A spider crawls along the floor and up Wharil's leg, soliciting a vaguely sinister upward quirk of her lips.*

[Wharil Choc]

"Yeah. Its weird. The family thing, y'know? I'm sure I have cousins back home. Nephews and nieces I don't know. I wonder sometimes, if they even know about me. If my parents still talk about me." A few quiet, thoughtful spoonfuls later, and Wharil simply doesn't feel up to letting the silence just sit there. "How 'bout you? Do you--" And then...he remembers who he's talking to. And he stops himself. Perhaps the silence was best afterall.

[Rene Vitalli]

I have cousins abroad. Likely more than I know. *She states. having another spoonful of soup. The silence drags on so long it becomes painful even for Rene. They should be talking. About something. What about, now there was the question. She looks to him, eyes narrowing darkly.* Can you not visit?

[Wharil Choc]

He quirks his lips at her, shaking his head. "I'm dead. I died eight years ago. They don't know that it was only for a little while. That it wasn't permanent. They never got to see my body or anything. I think...I think its better I stay dead to them. Going back would only be for my benefit, actually."

[Rene Vitalli]

My direct family is dead. *She says plainly, resuming her consumption of soup with a cold bland expression.*

[Wharil Choc]

At first, he thinks to say 'I know.' But, of course, that seems the completely wrong thing to say. He stirs his caldo lightly, thinking for a moment. "How'd it happen?" He says eventually, though he doesn't look up to her just yet.

[Rene Vitalli]

My father fell from a great height during a performance. My mother stabbed by Haziz. *She answers briefly, eyes cutting to him as she brings the bowl of green soup to her lips. She lowers the bowl, touching her mouth carefully to ensure she has no soup on herself. The bowl is set down with a clack, gaze slowly crawling venomous over his features, much like the spider crawling along Wharil's wrist..* But you know that Wharil.

[Wharil Choc]

"Well...." He stabs at a chunk of well cooked pork with his spoon, cutting it into smaller pieces. "I wouldn't say I know. I can't really know until I hear it from you, actually. Until I know how you feel about it." And immediately, his lips curl inward with a sign of embarrassment. How she felt about it. What did that mean? We were talking about her parents. "Were you close? With your parents I mean."

[Rene Vitalli]

*Was she close with her parents? Was she? She stares at him as she considers. Had she been close with Haziz? Was she close with Wharil now? Eyes lift to his again, unsettling woman looking to Wharil as though he held the answer to that particular question, and she was going to get it by cutting it out of his brain.* Define close.

[Rene Vitalli]

.. Please. *She adds as an afterthought. It was the details she forgot that always seemed to make things go awry.*

[Wharil Choc]

"Well..." He begins. He's chewing the meat now, occasionally slurping up some broth to augment the flavor as he thinks. "Did you care about them? Did they...fill some emotional need for you? Did you know their secrets? Did they know yours? Did you find yourself grieving for them? Do you miss them?" He stops himself, eyes dancing as he considers. "Alright, how about this. Would you trade places with either of them, if you thought it meant they'd survive?"

[Rene Vitalli]

No. *She says immediately, and without hesitation, a deep frown curving her lips.* And you would. For your family?

[Wharil Choc]

Wharil gives the slightest of sighs at that response. He seems to nod slowly, as if learning something. "Yeah. For my grandfather, maybe. And...a few other people." He frowns a bit at his soup. He's eaten most of it. Spilled some. The rest he seems to suddenly find unappetizing. Instead he places the bowl in the sink, running water over it. "I don't suppose it makes sense to ask why, does it? Why you weren't close to them. Why you wouldn't want to save them, even now?"

[Rene Vitalli]

My mother gave me the scars on my wrists. *Her lips twitch into the ghost of a smile. Every lean line of her body tense, less languid grace and more coiled anticipation as she regards the euthanatoi. She approaches him slowly and offers her own bowl over his shoulder, as he's washing his already. They were sharing. This was good, she was certain. An 8 legged guest skitters awkwardly along the taps. Rene's hand slides to touch between Wharil's shoulder blades, and she murmurs quietly in that small child's voice.* I would kill her myself, if given it to do over.

[Wharil Choc]

His shoulders tense suddenly at her touch, but relax gradually, and quickly. He takes the bowl, rinsing it out as well. "See, I didn't know that. Its like I said, I can't really sa--" And he starts suddenly, scrambling at his neck and reaching down the collar of his shirt. He tosses the crumpled body of a spider into the sink, and it swirls in the still pouring water. "Woah. Sorry. That one uh...scared me a little."

[Rene Vitalli]

You didn't kill it just to watch it die? *She murmurs behind him. An edge to her voice that was either dangerous insanity, or Rene's version of humor. Her hand remains set solidly between his shoulder blades, awkward perhaps.*

[Wharil Choc]

"Of course not. I was just..." He stops himself there, turning to face Rene now. "Wait, are you being serious?"

[Rene Vitalli]

*She arcs an eyebrow, hand falling to the counter beside him. He's not quite trapped between Rene and the sink, but with her staring at him too intently, it may well seem that way. Too close, too much in his space, watching hi like a lizard does a slow moving cricket.* No.

[Wharil Choc]

"Making a joke then." He chuckles, shaking his head and lowering his gaze. There's a smile on his face. There's only a bit of discomfort in it. "That's good. That's uh...At least this one didn't involve a garrote." He looks down at her hand at the side of the sink, quirking an eyebrow lightly. And then...he's reaching for it. He takes her by the wrist and, assuming she doesn't resist, moves her hand ever so slowly from the side of the sink until its resting on his shoulder instead. "I was worried about you, y'know."

[Rene Vitalli]

*Wharil moves her hand and her eyes slit narrow and dangerous, watching warily even as she allows him to do so. Giving him just enough rope to hang him with. Thats how that saying went, right? her hand grips his shoulder a moment, then relaxes. She lifts her chin, almost haughty.* You needn't have been. Your house was full of poisonous arachnids. *Rene for once not referring to herself. *

[Wharil Choc]

"I've been around poisonous creatures all my life, Rene." He says with an equally haughty smile, which gradually grows more serious as he considers the hand placed on her shoulder. Did she remember, he wondered, the way her touch sparked in his mind? In their minds? "But...forgetting to fear them is a sure way of getting hurt. So...thanks."

[Rene Vitalli]

Thank you for the Caldo. *There. That wasn't so hard. A polite thank you. It even sounded polite. She lingers within striking range, peeling back his skin with her eyes, as though intent on seeing exactly what makes him tick. through vivisection, if need be. She'd seen plenty of people before. Watched their reactions and emotions before they died. She could generally tell when someone was thinking about drawing a weapon and playing the villain. It was that keen sight that made up in some small way for the fact that she couldn't tap into the minds of the matter. Perhaps... Her hand snaps to take wharil's chin between two fingers, and she squints at him, drawing closer. One could readily see her suddenly unhinging her jaw and consuming him. As unpleasant to interact with as she was pleasant to look at.* [per awareness - ok, he's not going for a knife. what else is there here? +1 dif b/c Rene's a creep]

[Rene Vitalli]

*Her expression grows darker as she tilts his head to the side slightly, eyes glittering hard.* [Euthanatoi don't fail! +2 diff]

[Rene Vitalli]

*Her fingers are growing uncomfortably tight on Wharil's chin. There had to be SOMETHING there. She'd settle for recognizing ~anything~ in his expression.*

[Wharil Choc]

His own hand comes up to grasp hers, not quite intercepting it before it reaches his chin, but holding firm, as if expecting something. "I...uh...you're welcome." And the hand is slowly released. "You uh...wanna tell me what the hell you're doing?"

[Rene Vitalli]

*The look she gives is almost hateful, hand slipping from him abruptly. Her teeth click together as she breathes sharply and states.* I have a mental block. *With that she reaches over his shoulder and removes the bowls from the sink, making to dry them with a towel from the drawer next to Wharil.*

[Wharil Choc]

"Oh. Mental block. Back to that again." He sounds disappointed. Wharil taps on the counter with his knuckles and takes a few steps back. "That's just. Great. I'm uh...I'm gonna take off."

[Rene Vitalli]

[don't be a jerk vitalli]

[Rene Vitalli]

*Her eyes dart to him, and suddenly there's nothing vague about the look in them. Anger, pure, unadulterated, anger. The bowls are dropped in the sink in a clatter as she takes two steps for every one of Wharil's closing the distance with an efficient predatory grace better suited to snakes and jungle cats. She's up close in an instant, hands twitching a moment, before coming to lay very carefully on her fellow euthanatoi's shoulders. Her voice small and controlled.* I am not. Good. with People. Wharil.

[Wharil Choc]

For a split second there's a glance at knife block sitting on the counter. For a split second he's considering using one of those knives to defend himself. But he's pretty sure that, even unarmed, Rene's got him outmatched. And he'd rather not give her any ideas. Then, she has her hands on his shoulders. And just like last time he tenses, and gradually relaxes. "Yeah. I know." He says, still a bit uncomfortably. "But knowing that doesn't make you any easier to deal with." Wharil shook his head, taking another step back. "Listen. This was...nice. Talking to you I mean. Not the staring at me like you're trying to figure out how which one of my eyes you want to remove first. So...maybe don't do that next time?"

[Rene Vitalli]

Yes. *The corners of her eyes twitch slightly and she steps back, pivots on her heel, and is on her way out of the kitchen in a few short brisk strides. Lean woman's back straight as a poker.*

[Wharil Choc]

There was a sigh like the release of a bellows. Wharil leaned suddenly and firmly against the counter in the kitchen, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. "That woman's gonna be the death of me." He whispered to himself. And rather than risking her storming back in, he makes his way out, trying his best to avoid the other Euthanatos.

[Rene Vitalli]

[and FIN]