Cursing under her breath, Vhalla crouches on the roof top, hood drawn to cover her impeccably white hair. Her sleek black suit had managed to sustain several tears and the one on her right forearm managed to draw blood. Clenching her jaw together in an almost painful matter, she flattened herself to her belly as she watched as two men patrolled the street, clearly looking for something or someone. Vhal was not the type to hide from a fight but she had been unprepared when an additional three men showed up. Her job tonight was to handle a very rich man who owed her master several thousand dollars, so he had sent the assassin to collect or to kill.

Her intentions were to only collect, perhaps break a few fingers in order to do so but the man had clearly been waiting for her and he was prepared, whereas, Vhalla, was not. She had taken down two of the five men, the rich man had escaped and the witch was wounded and on the brink of losing control of her powers. Swallowing her anger, she blamed herself more than her master for not surveying Mr. Richie Rich longer. Clenching her hand into a fist, she winced, her forearm dripping blood, she would need to bandage it soon.

Glancing down the street, the men had disappeared down a nearby alley. Retrieving the dagger, she had placed next to her, she sheathed it in her boot. Rising to a crouch, she shimmied over the side of the roof, finding a set of fire escape stairs which she quickly descended, slipping casually into the crowd of young men and women, which were not all human. A few stares were thrown in her direction and she was fully aware that some fae and were's alike could smell the fresh blood, she hoped no one would give her away.

Her luck held as she traveled a few hundred more feet until the faces of the men approached her in the opposite direction. Stiffening, she turned on a heel casually so she wouldn't draw attention and ever so slightly picked up her pace. A shoulder slammed into her causing Vhalla to come to an abrupt halt, her hood slipping from her head. Almost immediately she could hear the men shouting at her, "Hey! You! Stop!" they shouted over the crowd and the assassin cursed loudly breaking out into a run. She should have taken the roof tops.

The thought came a little too late and she shoved humans and supernatural alike to clear her path. Taking a corner, she could hear the bass flowing out of a nearby bar. Changing course, she slowed herself to a saunter knowing that it would kill precious time in an attempt to abandon her pursuers and plastered a seductive smile on her face. She was thankful for the darkness of the night and the cloud coverage across the moon, her blood splattered face would easily be mistaken for paint or freckles in the dark.

Strutting up to the bouncer she flashed her best smile, all straight white teeth, and swayed her hips much more than necessary. It did the trick. Before she knew it, he was letting her pass, his gaze lingering on her backside as she strolled into the bar. Sometimes it paid off to wear a suit that tightly wrapped around her slender frame. Abandoning the act of a seductress, she snatched a towel from a nearby table, which was not the most sanitary of things but it would have to do Vhal didn't even want to think about the messes it had wiped up, and quickly made her way to an abandoned corner table. Taking a seat, her back against the wall, she quickly knotted the towel around her forearm, her hand going numb after a few minutes.

Clenching her hand into a fist a few times to make sure she had full use of it, she caught the last few snippets of conversation to her right. A big burly, douche looking of a guy towered over another man who clearly wanted nothing more than to abandon his table and get away from the couple. Vhalla could only guess what had happened there. Shrugging, it wasn't her problem as she turned her attention back to the door, the witch would have to hide out here until she was certain the men were gone.

A commotion at the entrance drew Vhal's attention back to the door, "Persistence bastards," she huffed, pushing off the wall and drawing herself into the crowd to conceal herself. The strobe lights were making it hard for her to hide her telltale sign of her hair, so she dragged the hood back over her head, her white braided hair falling over the fornt of her shoulder and swaying at her waist. It was hot as hell. Sweaty bodies pushed against her and she grimaced at the close contact but she had to play the part.

Stumbling towards the center she caught a glimpse of the men searching the crowd, lowering her head, this caused her to lose sight of what was in front of her and she slammed into a very real body. Almost losing her balance, she caught herself, pushing her off of the body and dragging her gaze to a face. The face of the man who she had witnessed earlier with the drama session. Her lips thinned, glancing over her shoulder, she could see the men circling the crowd. Thinking quickly, she turned back to the man, "Dance with me and pretend like you know me," she shouted over the music, "Please," she asked her eyes pleading.