[ The Merchant had been the most obvious target for Vanessa to set her sights on in the beginning, but he hasn't yet attempted to single her out, so that leaves him on the 'maybe' list for the time being. She hadn't felt any malevolence or desire from him, but she also knows that this realm isn't meant to be hers, and so Satan can hide in plain sight. Again, she keeps her suspicions to herself, but nods a little to concede that the girl may be correct on freeing The Merchant of this singular burden.

The undead forces want you. Supposedly all of them had been intended for such, but she knows that when the time comes, it's her they'll really want; they'll want to consume her. Though Satan's whisper hasn't been tickling her ear since arriving, she does feel that call from beyond. They hunger. The Thing inside her feels it, too.

She's biting her lip a little, concentrating with a careful eye; she's not in a hurry. Knowing she isn't a classical artist in any professional sense, she purposefully keeps the design overly simplistic. A tribute to the archaic. ]

The Tarot de Marseille. ...A crude interpretation.

[ Not actually so crude, and her humility is false. Vanessa purposefully keeps her answers clipped, allowing those who seek more to be forced to ask. It's the rite of passage for any knowledge worth knowing, and it's paid in full when she's in a cautious mindset. Friendly, certainly, but not reckless with it. Not accidental about it. Her card's design certainly isn't. ]

My hand has been forced by the absence of better possessions, but it may yet suit. [ Another little glance. ] Does it make you uncomfortable?