@rxtriever.
[ True to his world, it’s about an hour before he arrives, with seemingly nothing in tow - but he’s got deep pockets in that (unseasonably heavy) jacket of his, and beyond his phone and wallet he’s carrying a selection of cured meats from Eveny, and a small but keenly sharpened knife. ]
[ He has no intention of letting her see the latter unless absolutely necessary. ]
[ Flat 9′s easy enough to find, and Jean hesitates for a few moments in front of the door, as though some part of him is still convinced he’ll walk in and see Victoria, not living and breathing, but dead and bloody and splayed open on a table, a display somehow of his own creation -- ]
[ -- knock, knock. ] Vic? It’s me.














