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

God, her head was pounding today. The remnants of last night lingering brokenly in her mind as she pushes herself to remember only to realize half way through that she didn't care. Another miserable day and yet, she couldn't dull the passing of time with booze today, the assassin having to run errands like a normal person. Oh, how she wished she was a normal person - only having to worry about simple things, do I have enough money to pay my rent? What should I eat for dinner? I need a vacation. You know, those types of things. Not, when is that sick bastard going to call me for a job? Or, who do I have to kill today? Very not normal things. At least today, Vhalla could pretend - pretend to be a normal person out do doing normal things.

Grunting, her hands shove into her pockets of her ruined leather jacket - her white hair cascading down her back loosely, a rare thing for Vhalla, her hair always tied back into a braid. Glancing down briefly at the large hole on her forearm, she sighs. Her drunken shenanigans from a few nights ago had left the right sleeve of her jacket in tatters, this was why she came out today, to purchase a new one. Oh, and coffee. It would have been quite the sight to see the witch raging across her kitchen this morning when she realized she had let herself run out of coffee. It would have been an easy thing to turn to the bottle and drink her day away again. But... it was her only jacket and now this ruined piece of junk was itchy to wear.

Pausing on the street, she glances up trying to remember where that coffee shop was that she frequented with Sam when she first arrived in the city. Coming to a full stop, someone walking behind her swerves around her and flashes her a dirty look, Vhalla simply scowling in return - sure, a few drinks in her and she might be picking a fight or at the very least flipping them off yet, she was trying to have a normal day that did not involve alcohol. Who was she kidding? It was going to end with her face on the ground in her apartment in a pool of vomit. Sighing, she looks away from the person only to catch a glimpse of the sign of the shop. At least one thing was going right today. Pulling her hands out of her pockets she starts up again as she stalks towards the coffee shop. It's then that the hair on the back of her neck raises, a warning.

She had spent every waking hour as a child training to be death's handmaiden, Ivan relentlessly working her until she was nothing more than a weapon to be wielded and thrown into a junk drawer until needed again. So, when her senses scream at her she hardly gives it a second thought, trusting her body fully in everything. Rotating on a heel quickly, she spins around, her white hair flying with the motion as she brings up a hand, igniting it with fire as a warning as she slashes behind her. Vhalla hardly has any intention of hitting the person stalking her, merely to startle them with a flaming arc. Taking several steps back, she's vaguely aware of a single scream and the crowd rushing away from the pair as her steely glare fixes itself on a dark-haired man. Exhaling through a nostrils, smoke curls in her mouth as the taste of ash coats her tongue.

"Either you have a death wish or you're just an idiot," she sneers as a cruel grin twists her luscious lips. A simple way to control the rage that boils in the bit of her stomach. Vhalla, under no circumstances, did not like to be touched. Especially by a man she did not know. It brought up far too many horrid memories of Ivan and his business partners. "Honestly, if you would like somewhere more peaceful for me to burn you from the inside out please let me know, there's a park just around that corner," she gestures with her scarred fingers behind him haughtily, a dark simper lingering on her lips, "Or I could just gut you here," she shrugs with an exaggerated sigh, "It's your choice." So much for that normal day she had planned.

Vhalla Solarn

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