There were some things in life that could not be helped. Many, in fact. Only the end of time would cease the sun from rising in the east and setting in the west just as it would cease the moon from illuminating the night sky as ritualistically as it did. Stars would burn out and streak across the blue-black sky. The seasons would change as they always did ever since the earth had been created by whatever great forces on chose to believe. The lion would still need the flesh of its prey to survive, just as there was no hope that fish could fly no matter how high they might leap. Of these things that could not be helped in various aspects of life, Elain's warm and welcoming nature was as enduring and unwavering as the seasons. Yes, she had many parts to her that made the young woman who she was, but no matter what happened in life, she always seemed to fill the room with that bright light that just seemed to draw others to her. It was endearing in some ways, and aggravating in others, but no matter how exasperated the man with messy caramel-colored locks would seem to get with his little sister, there was no denying the fondness that filled his jaded heart for her. So many times, he had watched as she nursed a wounded animal to health only to set them free. So many times, he had seen her do all that she could to help a homeless person on the side of the street, whether it be bringing him a warm cup of coffee, warm blanket, or some food that she'd made. Her heart was so big and so full of love to give that it reminded Lazarus so much of their mother... He knew the older woman was surely looking down upon the honey-blonde girl with all the pride and love any mother could ever hold in her heart and soul for her child, and he knew even despite his less than kind or obedient disposition, their mother had always been patient and understanding of her growing son. Those days were gone now though, and often times, as he would watch Elain give all that she had to give to the world around her and those in it, a fresh pain would overwhelm him beneath that mask of cool indifference.

He'd promised that he would protect her, even before their mother and father had been so swiftly ripped away from this life and into whatever eternity waited on the other side. Back then, before her safety and happiness had been something that sat so squarely upon his broad shoulders as a responsibility, he'd been keen to watch over her like any good big brother - although it was debatable on if he took his duties as a big brother a little too seriously. For the man with caramel curled hair, there was no such thing and he had yet to cross such boundaries. He respected her space, but if someone else was in it then he would be sure that he was there dividing Elain from whomever - or whatever - happened to be so bold and brazen to exist far too closely to the honey-blonde woman. Some would say that it was simply because he was fiercely protective of the very last piece he had of his family, others might comment that he was safeguarding the last remnants of his happier memories in life before the world became nothing but darkness and anger, and to all these things he would simply laugh that wicked laugh and grin that wolfish smile only to say just how foolish such assumptions were, that there was no such vulnerability to be found beneath those mile-high and mile-thick walls of cold stone and sharp thorns. Many would probably take his word for it, perhaps even step away from the man as dark forest eyes would narrow dangerously, gleaming with wicked intentions as the blood in his veins became hot enough to rival that of boiling water. He was content for the world to see him as unapproachable, and Elain untouchable unless someone had a death wish. Things were better this way, with the two siblings against the world even though one of them dearly wanted to be part of it. It was best that he was the cold and jaded asshole that he was. After all, his father had never been the gentlest of men with the young man when his training began only to be cut much too short, just when he had started learning how to control that disabling temper of his. So, why would Lazarus need to be anything other than what he was, what his father had intended for him to be when he came of age to take his place as the head of the Daray family?

When the white-haired woman turns to see the furious man standing there, her movements are smooth as she ushers a nearly inaudible "oh" with that coy little smile he so very much wanted to punch off that pretty little face of hers to repay her friends the bruise that stained his cheekbone. Everything about her was just infuriating. Her scent that he would dare to say held the faintest tinge of ash and smoke, the way that those bright blue eyes narrowed upon him like a wildcat thinking he should flinch beneath that predatory gaze that seemed to glitter with wicked amusement, the sheer fact that she was in his house... it made that blood in his veins boil and he felt mere moments away from lunging at her for thinking herself so bold and entitled to look at him in such a way. Her voice ushers smoothly into the room and those fists grow even tighter as he dares to take a step closer to the woman, dark forest eyes narrowing with predatory intent to match her own as she speaks of how she was invited to dinner. Oh, he believed it. He wasn't having any of it, though."Yeah, well, you're about to get uninvited here in a second", he answers with rough tenor tones dropped dangerously low to add emphasis on that threat. Rage roars against those brittle bars when his little sister dredges up the events of last night and again as she has the audacity to turn to Elain, inquiring almost in disbelief that the man and honey-blonde young woman were related before brazenly stating just one of the many insults he was used to hearing and yet coming from her, he can feel the muscle in his chiseled jaw begin to flex beneath cut and bruised skin."I don't know what you're up to witch, but whatever it is, you had better leave my sister out of it", he threatens, lifting a hand as a strong index finger points in warning at her as she continues to grin that smug smile of hers. It is then that Elain decides to interject as he expected, and it is only then that he falters as dark forest snap from the woman his sister introduces as Vhalla and to the icy blues of his sister. She was the only one that could ever stand up to Lazarus without fear of repercussion, her own defiance daring him to threaten the white-haired woman again. And oh, how he very much wanted to, there weren't even words enough to express that fury that burned in him, only to flare when the white-haired woman tossed him a lazy smile and venomous words disguised in silk."It was a cheap shot", he snarls under his breath, dark forest eyes piercing brilliant blue. He only gives a rough "hrmph" in rebuttal to his sister's threat, his fierce and challenging stare lingering a minute longer on the witch before he turns his back sharply to the women, although not without shooting his sister a harsh glare at the nickname she so adored using with him only to storm across the room and dropping forcefully into the chair at the corner of the room as he leans into it, eyes remaining narrowed as if daring either of them to crack more wise words about that night again.