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

Vhalla didn't know whether to be fascinated or disgusted by the way Risque throws her body against Tetradore, her sleek frame sliding against him. She hardly wanted to watch it and yet, she simply couldn't look away. It was an act of possession one that Vhalla was accustomed too; though she had hardly seen it first hand like this before. Still, the lingering gaze of the woman causes a shiver to run the length of her spine, the assassin hardly caring to ever be the center of that attention. That woman quite nearly put Ivan to shame, Vhalla hardly fearing Ivan like she does with this vampire across from her, pressed against Tetradore. Even with the fear that so lingers within her, the witch can't help but feel the slow burn of anger and if she were being honest with herself, a bit of jealousy as well. Setting her jaw, her icy eyes watch the pair, attempting to tune out Risque and Ivan's banter as she mentally prepares herself for what is to come.

Instead of Ivan responding to Risque, he merely offers her a half smile, his fingers simply flicking out her in a gesture, as if he were saying 'well, let's get on with it.' Only to fold his arms behind his own back, that taunting simper still playing with his lips. Eyes glancing to Vhalla, he watches her settle into a lax position, her arms hanging loosely at her side. The woman was altogether aware she couldn't beat the man before her, her gaze watching him like a hawk as he stalks ever so closer. Between one breath and the next, he shifted with such ease there was hardly any bone snapping to be heard. Still, what prowled before her now was not the Tetradore that she knew. He was not the man that had entertained her with a soar in the woods, or the panther she had scratched behind his ears. What was before her now was merely nothing more than a predator, Vhalla practically seeing herself in those dead, merciless eyes of his.

There was never a moment more than this that she wished Tetradore could read her mind as she begs for him to kill her. To end this miserable existence of a life, she pleads desperately with her eyes and yet, she knows he wouldn't do it. She knew well his hate for for Ivan, the assassin knowing where he would attack first. Still, as he begins to prowl, instinct has Vhalla refusing to put her back to him, her gaze resigned as she watches him. Ivan on the other hand hardly moves at all, that taunting smile remaining on his lips while that slimy gaze watches Risque, as if he could hardly be bothered by the massive panther stalking them. Hands casually slide into his pockets as Ivan has the audacity to simply yawn, as if the whole interaction was simply boring to him. Vhalla is hardly aware of Ivan's actions in that moment as her gaze is wholly fixated on Tetradore, even Risque is a mere shadow in her consciousness.

Still, the assassin isn't ready for the pounce, the panther launching himself at Ivan and through that blasted bond, she has the urge to jump in front of the attack. Even with her meager abilities to teleport, she wouldn't have been fast enough to put herself in his path. Turning on a heel she sprints from her position only to slide to a complete stop, eyes widening as the panther practically bounces off some sort of barrier between cat and vampire. Vhalla hasn't been aware of other magical abilities her master had, the man simply using the blood bond and her as his choice of weapon. Yet, she can't help but watch Ivan, the man never flinching with the attack, his eyes wholly remaining on Risque. Only a moment passed before Vhalla sends a wave of fire between the two, hoping to separate them, the assassin positioning herself in front of Ivan once more.

"Tet... don't," she practically pleads quietly, though everyone in the warehouse had superior hearing, she had no doubt they would hear her begging words. Keeping the flames several feet high, she closes them tighter, forming a circle defense around the pair, blue eyes pained and what that bond forced her to do. Though, with the distraction of the flames, sheets emerald eyes through the flickering fire, "Kill me," she mouths, her face momentarily defeated before she slips on that mask for a show. She hardly lets the flames die, her arms still lax at her side. "Have you had your fill darling? Or are we still going to play?" Ivan's voice rises over the noise, the man simply remaining where he was.

Vhalla Solarn

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