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

His voice was so entirely aggravating. She had answered him; vaguely of course but clearly he wasn't going to allow her to at least finish bandaging her wound before he begins to rattle off questions. Sighing, she pauses in her own administration before tired eyes flick to him, "No, those were gifts. They aren't even from this era," she responds, brows arching at him, just daring him to question her more. She was tired, she felt sick and she hurt; her typical physical and emotional state after working a job, although, she's normally far more careful when it came to close encounters with her targets. As she begins to explain that the men from the evening were her targets, she can see the man begin to piece everything together, a wry smile toying at the corner of her lips, "Smart boy," she coos at him before finishing wrapping that bandage at her waist, dropping the shirt to cover the already silver soaked linen. As long as it stopped the wound from bleeding, that's all she cared about, at least for the time being. His next rattle of questions brings a boiling rage forth, her eyes blazing fiercely as she snaps that fiery gaze to Lazarus.

Vhalla can practically feel her blood begin to boil at the very thought that she would work for someone, that she would murder and manipulate and fuck people for her own entertainment. She almost released a snark at the man, that flame almost breaking forth into a physical entity. Her skin is noticeably steaming as she pushes herself to a standing position, grabbing the back of the chair for support, "I don't work for anyone, prick. I'm owned," she snaps out at him, her mouth immediately clamping shut. Vhal hadn't meant to tell him, she didn't need someone holding that over her head. Turning away from him, she quickly stifles that anger, "No, Elain doesn't know and I plan on keeping it that way," she calls over her shoulder before making her way down the hall. His next statement brings her to a halt, a death glare being thrown at the man with every inch of anger and hatred she had at the world, "We," she gestures between the two of them, "Are not friends. Elain and I are friends. You just happened to be the unlucky asshole who got caught up in this mess. The only reason you aren't dead right now is because you are Elian's brother," she scowls at him darkly before continuing her journey down the hall, Laz following behind her.

Leading him into the bedroom, she digs through that drawer and tosses him those brand new sweatpants, not bothering to watch him as he takes in that unused bedroom. His comment has her shrugging, "Does it matter? But if it will put your little heart at ease, they're new," she growls at him before grabbing her own scraps of clothing and disappearing entirely from the bedroom. Her gait is slow and a slight limp accompanies her, the assassin was entirely aware she would be sore in the morning; sore enough she might have to postpone training for a day. As she locks herself in the bedroom, she hurls, the image of the gutted body flashing through her mind before she quickly cleans herself and finds herself lounging in that chair. Blue eyes are locked on the ceiling, ignoring Lazarus as he walks in the room. She sits like that for awhile, not saying anything, content that the man doesn't comment either. After a moment, she shifts, swinging her legs in front of her, leaning forward and revealing enough of the skin on her back shoulder to show two perfectly round holes, the bruising significant around each; bite marks.

Having forgotten they are they, she reaches back and rubs at her back, wincing as she touches those tender wounds. Dropping her hand, she finally turns to Laz, surprised to see him shirtless and even more surprised to see a fairly toned and muscular body. Well, at least he would make a better Dark Hunter than his sister. Her blue eyes immediately snag on that tooth hanging from a chain on his neck, her brows arching in a curious manner, "What's that?" She questions briefly before gesturing to the sit across from her, piled with books that had been read many, many times. "I'm assuming you have questions," she says tiredly, leaning back into the chair again, though this time she tucks those long pale legs beneath her. "Let me make one thing very clear, anything you see here, anything I tell you, the location of this place; is not allowed to leave these walls. Do you understand me?" She states, her voice lowering into a deadly octave; rather suggestive as to what she would do to him lest he rat her out to anyone. "Don't think that I can't turn your world upside down; more than I already have."

Vhalla Solarn

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