you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

Such pleasure courses across Ivan's face as Lazarus offers his name up. For whatever reason, the Dark Hunter didn't want to see his little pet hurt any more than she already was. So, the vampire nuzzles into her neck, going as far as to planting a kiss across those bite marks he had previously put there before the hunter showed up. When he leans back, releasing Vhalla's hair, only to trace patterns along her arm, he offers the boy approval, venom dripping from his lyrics. A shame the boy doesn't rise to the taunt but he seemed to be treading a bit more carefully, perhaps realizing that he was in no position to bargain for Vhalla. Why, he clearly had the upper hand, his pet perched in his lap, hand still locked around her arm. Still, he can see the rage that so courses through Lazarus, though its gone after a moment by the shifting of Vhalla's head. Those colorless eyes train onto the back of his protégé's head, debating on disciplining her for the subtle warning she must have given the man.

Thinking better of it, Ivan merely sighs, that humorless smile coating his lips once more as he can practically see Lazarus give up on that anger, realizing it was going to do him no good. So, Ivan offers the boy a choice, his grin broadening after a moment's hesitation on Lazarus's part before biting out how much she was worth. "Oh, how delightful!" he exclaims, entirely amused, "I was planning on using her tonight but I can't pass off the money," he shrugs, pushing Vhalla to a standing position, him standing behind her as he pulls her back against his chest, an arm wrapping around his chest as if it were a lover's embrace. Vhalla's own arms dangle at her sides, those icy blues void of any fire as she glances at the ground, shame growing in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't stand to look at the hunter, at least right now, not when she was like this. Ivan places his chin on the top of her head, watching Lazarus carefully, that amused smile still tugging at the corner of his lips.

"My dear Vhalla will fill you in on the details," he shrugs before kissing the top of her head and releasing her altogether, a hand planted on her back and he shoves her forcefully those last few steps, right into Lazarus's arms. It was enough distraction for Ivan to move towards the door, yank it open and wave over his shoulder, "You two have fun," he calls to them before slamming the door shut and disappearing from sight. When Vhalla had stumbled right into Lazarus, her hands had come up to plant them on his chest, her hands fisting into his jacket as she bows her head and presses her head against his toned muscle, her body quivering from the terror of Ivan. It takes a minute before she can gather her thoughts, really just to find her voice, "I haven't decided if I'm mad at you or not," she mutters into his chest, still refusing to look up at him, though her hands are still in a death grip on his jacket.

"Why did you come here?" she asks quietly, that rage and wicked humor entirely absent from her lyrics. "You weren't... you weren't supposed to see that," her voice cracks on the last word as she slams her eyes closed, swallowing to keep the emotion from her voice as best as possible. "I'm fine. This is fine," she states suddenly, her voice weak as if she were trying to convince herself, not the man she was practically holding onto for dear life. "You can go, I'll deal with the consequences myself. It's nothing you need to worry yourself with," Vhalla states again, finally able to convince her hands to release their death grip on Laz's jacket. Taking a step away from him, she's careful to avoid eye contact with him as she backs up several feet, her gaze unintentionally locking on that couch. She can't help but feel that shudder that runs through her body. She would never be able to sit on that couch again, she should burn the damn thing.

Yet, she could feel no fire in the pit of her stomach, she felt cold. She needed a drink but even as that thought crosses her mind, she realized she had polished off her last bottle the night before. She had intentions to retrieve more after her job tonight, yet that clearly wasn't going to happen. Vhalla folds her arms around herself, holding herself, as if she could hold her emotions together by that simple move. She needed to get herself under control, she didn't need someone to see her like this. "Laz," she states quietly, her eyes slowly finding his forest gaze, "You should go."

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered