[There's the man of the hour. At this point, Silco may be disappointed - sure, Vergilius is a beast of burden baring his scars with no need to hide them, but he's definitely got himself bandaged. One can see a slip of white peeking from out under his collar, and a plastered piece of gauze on his neck. However, the man may be pleased to see he's absolutely favoring the leg which wasn't stabbed as he stands here, hands in his pockets. Thanks, Silco.]

[The possible(?) tease only makes him grimace, red eyes flitting up and down the other before landing squarely on that scarred face once more.]

I'd lose respect for you if you did. [And a beat - why IS he here? Shouldn't he leave well enough alone? These teeth are aggravating. The hunger, more so.] And you're hearing things. I just wanted to check in. If you died, you died. That's the way of the City, you know. You move on.