… Eventually, she does indeed get a Thar. Weirdly enough, he looks super ill, like he's come down with something dreadful. He's all pale and his hair's a mess and he… doesn't seem too thrilled that she's here.

"What," he says flatly. It's not really a question. It's more of a rebuke for her intrusion into his space.

"Uh," she says, looking at him, a bit confused. "Are you okay?"

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, but whatever, anyway, uh, I just– I was a bit worried about you?"

… You know, he looks sick, but, uh. He doesn't really… seem sick? At least not in the relevant way?

"Is that why you skipped out on school?"

"Yes," she says, willing to admit it quite freely to Thar. "You don't seem so great," she says. "How was the clinic?"

"I already told you about the clinic," he says.

"Yep, you did." She walks into the apartment, moving him out of the way, then looks at him expectantly.

"… I'm ill."

She raises an eyebrow at that, because it really doesn't ring true.

"Why were you at the clinic?" she asks.

"Because you made me go," he says in response.

"Mm," she says, then inspects him a little. "You know, you really don't seem actually ill – maybe try taking some acting classes?"

He frowns at her.

"I'm just saying," she says. "I mean, you look like you did the makeup really well." She reaches out to poke underneath his eyes. "But for some reason, the whole image just doesn't fit together properly."

He looks at her a bit disbelievingly. "Why would I put makeup on to make myself seem ill, even if I weren't actually ill?"

She shrugs. "Who knows the machinations of the elusive Thar? Not me. Because apparently you've been both at the clinic and not for the past few days."

She folds her arms. "Care to explain?"

He squints at her a little and the makeup seems to– disappear? "Not really?" he says, then goes over to the table and takes a drink from a bottle of water.

Rashel frowns at the makeup.

"Neat trick you have there," she says, following him over to the table.

"Yeah," he says. "I was pretty proud of it, actually."

"… Care to explain?"

"Mm," he responds. "Not really."

He scratches his neck a bit.

She frowns at him.

She can do that, that's totally fine with him.

She might just frown at him for a few minutes, then, studying him and trying to work out what's wrong.

She might indeed.

And then, after a few minutes, he'll say, "I'm actually pretty proud of that trick."