Curiosity may not have killed the cat, but if the cat was still a human, the bloody humidity may well kill it. Lana was already started to second guess her choice to join her maker in this freak show of a cirque. But after many years of being apart from him, she figured it was time for a reunion. And if she really needed to, she could always just leave after getting her fill of Byron.
The familiar tingle of his presence, moved up her spine as he approached, causing her to sit up a little straighter. She suppressed a grin at the sound of his voice, turning slowly to raise her eyes up his body and to his face as she sat in a chair, mending fabric. "Perhaps you should stop fucking yourself with knives and find a cock to shove inside of you instead, then you wouldn't get as much blood on your shirt." She stood, tossing the fabric to the side.
Lana closed the short distance between them, the front of her body pressed against his side as her face tilted up to see his. "Or you could always wear red or black. Hides the stains better." Pausing for a moment, she moved back slightly and walked around him, examining his being for any signs of mistreatment in her absence.
"Didn't you say this place had witches? Why can't they abracadbra this shit and eliminate the use for needles. Really what the fuck good is a circus full of supernatural freaks if you can't use actual fucking magic. This is a fucked up version of Cinderella and the fairy fucking godmothers are sleeping on the job. Per usual." It wasn't that she couldn't do manual labor... she just really hated it. And he knew that. "Any particular reason that morose looking asshole placed me here for a job? I know it wasn't my winning personality, but really... this was the best he could come up with?"