She May Or May Not Know Where The Dagger Is Secretly Hehe - Blog Posts

Her brow creases ever so slightly at his words, eyelids flickering in an attempt to cover the emotion in the brown pools behind them - lest they betray her to her captor. Violent. A thing she had been given no choice in becoming. From the violent act that had forced her into this immortal existence to the one that had tried to snuff it out, it seemed she could never escape the violence of this world. Didyme had decided to embrace it, though reluctantly. A part of the self that Aro had buried with a dagger in her heart screamed against it from beyond the grave, behind her eyes. "I am the farthest thing from breakable." Her response as icy as the man gazing down at her.

"And I am telling you that I do not know where the dagger is. It was the least of my concerns when I awoke after THREE THOUSAND YEARS!" Delicate hands twist in their bindings, laced with something keeping her weakened though nothing her ancient blood couldn't eventually work through. "We can do this forever, though I doubt you can wait that long."

open to: m/f/anyone plot: Viktor has kidnapped y/m for information pertaining to an ancient & magical object he needs in order to resurrect his mother from the dead. y/m is less than compliant at the moment. hmu if you wanna plot! connection: strangers, old acquaintances, anything works~

"Fascinating." Viktor said, his tone reflecting little emotion outside of the very word he'd spoken; fascination. At least they weren't trying his patience, yet. Despite being on a schedule of sorts and constantly evading his younger brothers' pursuit and sabotage, Viktor was patient and didn't mind taking his time to get what he wanted.

Dark brown eyes moved slowly over the individual, taking in details and subtle cues in their body language, his lips quirking just a bit at one corner as he met their gaze again. He wasn't deterred by the fiery inferno of emotions he glimpsed there, his calm aura was more a threatening force than anything reassuring. It was always the silent brooding people that could be the most lethal and the Russian had certainly been taught to attain more than just fatality.

Viktor removed one of his hands from his pocket, sweeping his long fingers over his stubble before he chuckled, the sound low and holding only a fraction of the amusement he expressed verbally. "You look all frail and breakable but, you're really a violent little thing, aren't you?" His head shook, that hand caressing his chin thoughtfully moved to push through his hair and over his head as he shifted on his feet to lower himself onto a chair.