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

It wasn't often that many people got to see the aftereffects of Vhal's drunken shenanigans... at least not in this light. The setting of herself on fire to the dive into an icy oceans, that one was new - most of the time she was picking fights in bars and getting thrown out on her ass where should would stumble home and pass out. Sometimes, she wouldn't even make it all the way to her bed, instead, she would wake up face down in the living room, laying in a pool of her own vomit from time to time.

How very far she had fallen.

So, the fact that she had decided to come here was... new. The witch never venturing into the south, let alone the ocean. For god's sake, she was certain she had never even seen the beach since moving to Sacrosanct all those years ago. Her priorities were elsewhere, the woman hardly ever having time to do anything fun or enjoyable. Yet, even in this moment, she couldn't understand why anyone would be having fun in this ocean, it was freaking cold. Plus, Vhal knows this first hand as she jumps into the water up to her knees, crouching down and shoving her flaming arm into the icy depths. The stink of the burned leather tickling her nose as she pulls it out and inspects it, scoffing in annoyance, a shiver runs down her spine as the cold already seeps in. Her dark pants soaked up to her thighs and her boots filled to the brim with water as she stalks angrily out of the ocean.

Grunting, she freezes in place as she watches a woman just off to her right covers her own puzzled face with indifference. An icy glare snaps down onto the witch's feature as she snaps rather rudely at the woman. Honestly, the assassin thought it would end there, perhaps she expected the stranger to lift her hands in defeat and wave her off so Vhal could stumble home in drunken shame, but... that's not what happens. Her blue eyes catch the wild gesture of the woman's finger as she clearly signs at the witch, Vhalla's brows furrowing in confusion. What... the fuck? It's not like she knew sign language but she did know the look of annoyance when she saw it and this stranger was blanketed with irritation. Frowning, it wasn't like Vhalla did anything to her, and even if she did it wouldn't be the first time the witch didn't apologize for being the catalyst of something.

"I don't know what the hell that means," she snaps, her drunken mind preventing her form acting like a decent human being as she brings her hands up and makes motions with her fingers. Honestly, to a stranger it would look like Vhalla was mocking her even if that was the farthest from the case - the white haired woman doing many horrid things in her lifetime but she would never intentionally mock someone with any sort of disability, the assassin holding herself to better standards than that at the very least. And yet, in this moment - it looks very mocking, the irritation written across V's face as she pretends to copy the motion of the stranger.

Although, even though Vhalla doesn't understand what the woman was signing, she does understand the gesture at the spilt coffee on the ground. Her icy blue eyes glance at the cup and then back to the woman, "How is that my fault?" She asks incredulously as she finishes stomping out of the water and in the woman's direction. Pausing several feet a way, her hands slide down to her hips, in the ultimate look of sass, "It's not my fault you spilled your drink, maybe you should have been minding your own business," she grunts as her leather jacket scratches at her arm annoyingly, the material hardening after the flames. Reaching up a slender hand, she itches at her arm through the holes in the jacket. "Are you deaf? Because if you are, you're an idiot for being out here alone and at night, even if you weren't deaf you're still dumb for-," she's forcefully cut off by a gut wrenching feeling, the woman turning abruptly as she spews the contents of her drinks all over the sand.

Falling to her knees, she arches her back as she vomits, her body ridding the rest of... well, whatever was in her stomach. Tears pierce her eyes as she dry heaves, the witch crouched over on hands and knees for several more minutes before she raises a shaky hand and wipes her mouth with the back of it. Spitting, she leans back onto her knees staring at the vomit for a brief moment before the waves rush at her and clear it away, only to soak her once more. And yet, V is hardly mad at the moment instead she's more disgusted. Frowning at the water, she pushes herself back to her feet, her limbs wobbly as her gaze snaps back to the stranger, "What? Never been on a drunken binge before?"

Vhalla Solarn

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