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

It was decidedly a... gift that Vhalla had in pissing people off. The woman a natural at making people angry, irritating them, she was even talented in getting them to throw the first punch just so she could feel something for a change. What the assassin was not accustomed to was apologizing for her behavior. Truly, the witch could count on one hands how many times she had apologized and actually meant it. Guilt was not something the woman liked to feel, especially when she was the reason to cause such a feeling. So, she covered it with fire and rage, anything to keep her from feeling something real, to regret a decision and yet, her whole life was one big regret. She was nothing more than a coward and although she would never admit it, she felt that every damn day. Today just happened to be a rather rough day... more rough than normal. Picking a fight with a disabled person was new for Vhal and honestly, she couldn't hate herself anymore than she already did, so why the fuck not?

Her childish act fades away, even when the Russian woman retorts back sarcastically. Normally, the assassin would be jumping at the gun to pick a fight, whether it be a verbal spar or an actual spar and yet, she was far too exhausted. The alcohol was finally wearing off, her head hurt from lack of water and those pesky feelings were racing back in faster than ever before. Sighing through her nose, she can't help but wonder about this woman's particular gift, it made Vhalla wary. She didn't care to be known, not really. She especially didn't want this stranger to find out that she was a hired gun to take out people's problems. No... even Vhalla could see the complications that might arise if this woman started poking into where she wasn't wanted. Still, the witch can't help but stiffen as a long pause is had from the Russian, her icy gaze watching the woman carefully. Her answer was... honest and yet it hardly made the woman feel any better.

The assassin can't help but stiffen at her response, her blue gaze hardly wavering from the Russian. She stares at her for a long moment, debating if she needed to set this woman on fire or not before she finally breaks her gaze away. If this woman had dived into her head, she was certain that even that cold indifference the Russian possessed would falter, even if just a little. Vhalla wasn't sure why... but she did believe the stranger. Facing her again, some of the wariness had left her, "Let's keep it that way," she states bluntly before another long silence falls between them. Still, Vhalla can't help but keep her curiosity as bay, her next question rising up after a long while. The Russian's answer is hardly satisfactory and yet, it was a response that even Vhalla would give. It wasn't like she was in this city because she wanted to be here, Ivan kept her locked away here. Would never let go of his prized jewel. Disgusting.

The next words that float into Vhal's head has the white haired woman glancing at her doppelgänger, even as a shadow crosses the assassin's face. Brows furrowed at a memory, her eyes glaze briefly, "Trust me, this is not an interrogation," she scoffs as a blood soak room fills her memories. Again, silence falls once more as Vhal turns her face to the ocean, the light breeze teasing her hair and clearing her mind. Pushing herself to a standing position, she wipes at her soaked pants half heartedly before turning and looking down at the moment, "Well, I'm going to go sleep this off and pretend like it never happened," Vhalla states, she grins though its more of a baring of her teeth, "Toodles, hope you don't run into anymore drunken fire breathers," she states, sarcasm rolling off her tongue as she waggles her fingers at the Russian woman. "Let's hope to never meet again," she states before turning on a heel and walking... a bit more successfully down the beach this time.

Vhalla Solarn

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