Lazarus was... many things, very few of them ever to be considered what most might deem as good traits. He was far from the model of a good citizen, though in the same moment he was much more isolated in his poorer decisions these days than be once was. Back in that city the dark hunter and his little sister left behind in hopes of escaping all that haunted them there down every street and in many forms the faces that knew a fair amount for The Daray Council, the young man had been more of a troublemaker. Vandalism was certainly not something that he had been above, nor was getting into pointless brawls in alleyways whenever someone did the slightest thing to fuel that fire that had begun to burn in him, the beast having once been locked behind stronger bars that took more force to rattle than it did today. Some would say that it was simply due to that wild flare of testosterone, while others would argue that it was just the simple fact that Lazarus was a scoundrel with little to no respect for those around him and the things that did not belong to him. Perhaps it has been a mixture of both, amidst whatever else it had been back then that eventually ended up eroding those bars into that weakened state that they were now, marked by the teeth and claws of the monster that often paced in silent wrath and subdued hunger, waiting for anything or anyone to do something that would drive Lazarus to that point where he couldn't hold back.

Kind, courteous, caring. These were but a small list of things that the man was not, had never been, and would never be able to become. Aside from the care and unwavering dedication that he had from Elain, Lazarus was hardly kind. Hell, even with his little sister, "courteous" was hardly a word that would cross even her mind when attempting to describe the dark hunter that was her big brother she somehow managed to love with all her heart. He did not hold doors open for others, did not avert from his own path as he stalked those crowded streets of the city. If anything, whenever a stranger might bump into the man, it was almost enough to have that beast come snarling forth. There had been so many times that the man had been frighteningly close to spinning around and knocking the sense out of someone whose shoulder had collided with his own. Why such little things were able to bring out such anger in him, he was not entirely sure but he also never bothered to explore the reasoning behind the rage that stormed through those dark forest eyes. His past was far from pleasant, and perhaps the fact that people had tried time and time again to make him do whatever it was that they wanted or how life seemed to gain some sort of fucked up amusement in watching as it manipulated him down roads he never wanted to travel played a much larger part that he would ever admit to. From his father deciding that the young man's future was decided the day that he was conceived, all those days training only to end with the same disappointment and frustration in Tal's eyes as he tried to stop out that temper Lazarus seemed so plagued by, tried to take the young man and break him of his less than desirable habits and pass times as he would tell Lazarus the young man would never amount to anything if he didn't get his life together to the unexpected shift in his life where he has no choice but to suddenly take it upon himself entirely to safeguard the light that was his little sister... Perhaps if the rest of the world knew of his past, they might be able to grasp at some sort of understanding on why he was the way he was.

He didn't want their understanding, though. He didn't want pity or hands reaching out to try and help or heal him. It was bad enough that Elain worried over the man and his dangerous drinking habits, all the casual sex that he would try take such temporary pleasure in."Maybe you need a job or something, Lazlo. It might help you work out that pent of frustration". Yeah, right. He'd been quick to tell the honey-blonde woman that he wasn't about to take up a job that suited their kind. Ever since the disbanding of the family council, Lazarus hadn't had even the slightest intentions of rebuilding it. Maybe a part of that was because their father had told the man that it was his fate, Lazarus rebelling against the very idea that his father could control him and the way he lived from beyond the grave. There was little that compared to the utter rage that ran rampant in the dark hunter when someone dared to come along and think that they could manipulate him. It might even seem a little hypocritical since it was Lazarus tended to manipulate the world around him. Well, the women that he convinced to let him steal their sheets from the night anyway. Beyond that, he could care less what the hell everyone else did. Except Elain. The line between protective and possessive had become blurred to him by now, both seeming to be one in the same though he would always claim that it was for her own good, his little sister the last light in the man's life. So, just maybe, for reasons more selfish than he would ever confess to, that was why he was ready to beat the crap out of anyone that looked at her wrong or for two seconds too long.

It was from this fierce protectiveness he had towards Elain that his heavy suspicions of their uncle's which brought him here, wandering those perfectly paved and manicured streets belonging to the northern parts of Sacrosanct. The British man had appeared out of nowhere that night, though perhaps if Lazarus had actually been paying attention he might have noticed that he was being followed. He hadn't expected to ever see James again though, and he'd been so sure that he and Ellie had left their old life behind. Apparently not. With hands shoved into the pockets of his favored black jacket, the hood drawn over messy caramel colored locks as dark forest eyes swept over the mailboxes for the address on that business card James had left with him at the Voodoo Room, he walked until he finally found the mansion among the annoying number of hoity toity estates that was his uncle's. He was far from happy that he was going to be attending dinner with the one that Tal had warned the siblings to stay far away from, but if it kept James away from Ellie, it was only just reasonable enough of a price to pay. Determined to stay not even a moment longer than he would need to, he walks through that gate and down the precisely paved driveway in those jeans and that jacket, proudly not the owner of any sort of suit or formal get-up like most would wear when invited to dinner on this side of the city. This was as good as anyone would ever get from him.

Knocking only a few times, he stands there at the door, dark gaze staring at the expensive car in the driveway. Must be nice to be rich. Not that the siblings didn't have a fair amount of money themselves from the inheritance that they'd received, but Elain had been adamant that they put most of it into CDs and savings accounts so that the would grow overtime."Like planting a garden and harvesting overtime. Plus, we need to be sure we can support your expensive passtime". Lazarus hadn't argued with her, not when she got that look in her eyes of early morning frost. One of these days he'd need to get a nice car himself, though. The door opens and he turns those dark eyes onto the pretty little brunette maid."I'm looking for James", he states blandly, though not without regarding the woman for a moment as his male tendencies often had him acknowledging. No sooner than he'd spoken the name of the man he didn't want to see did the Englishman appear in the doorway, hardly missing how the older man appraised Lazarus' choice of dinner attire. He can hardly help the wolfish grin that is faint but clear in what little pleasure he could take out of the man's subtle disliking though it fades in the wake of his uncle's half-smile."Yeah", he responds to that formal greeting in tenor tones just short of a growl as he steps into the extravagant home, taking in the clearly expensive things that scattered themselves over the walls and whatnot. James goes on in those ever so prim and proper words, dark forest eyes narrowing as he disregards the mention of how they wouldn't be alone tonight."Not like I had much of a choice", he tries pointedly as if to remind him that had the hunter not mentioned going to see Elain, Lazarus would be spending the evening in a club or something while the honey-blonde woman attended those evening classes at the college.

James dismisses the maid with a sweep of his hand then, Lazarus hardly ashamed as he watched her leave before turning to look back at his uncle as he speaks of that liquor collection he had."Sounds good to me", he replies, hardly ever able to object to a few drinks... or ten. He moves into the room James gestures towards, the large fireplace alive with a roaring fire that snaps and crackles as it devours the wooden logs perfectly placed within. Even the two armchairs and that small table between those two pieces of matching furniture seemed placed exactly where they should be. Not that it surprised Lazarus, for even through the suspicion he held for his uncle it seemed only fitting that the man want everything in order. He watches as James moved over to that cabinet as the younger man lowers into one of the chairs, each arm draped lazily over their respective rests, dark forest eyes studying those bottles before James picks a brandy and moved over to where the table stood. Pouring that liquor and handing a glass to Lazarus who takes it - though not without eyeing him as he does - only to tip his head back and down it in a mere breath, finding himself surprisingly pleased with the smoothness of that aged brandy, his uncle asks him what it was that brought the siblings here to this city. He said quiet for a moment as he simply looks at the empty glass in his hand, watching the glow of the fire bleed across the clear crystal."A fresh start", he answers simply, giving a shrug of broad shoulders before turning those dark forest eyes to James."It's a strange coincidence that you would also happen to settle here. Was it just the weather you heard so much about?", he remarks contemplatively, his question clearly meant to be a figurative jab indicative that Lazarus fully suspected the man to have interrogated the familiar faces the siblings had left behind in their hometown, obtaining their new location from someone back in that place he'd never return to. How else would he have found them if he hasn't been stalking them the entire time like the predator Tal had warned Lazarus James could easily be if the man so desired.