stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

This jerk thought he could be impervious to her skills, well he would have another thing coming. Even if it wasn't today. In the complicated workings of her mind she had only took his steely face as a challenge, her eyes narrowed in that way as she assesses him like prey, looking for weakness. She didn't know why she seemed so focused on him, to shake up that resolve of his. Really, she had no business to but that hadn't stopped her before. She could see the wheels spinning in his own mind, could see that there was an intelligent (or so she thought), thought process going on. What the hell was he thinking? She didn't like it, it made her want to challenge him more, if that were even possible. Even as he spoke those words in that contrived bored fashion she was growing used to, she merely blinked at him. That was all he had? Her skin was kevlar baby and this only scratched the surface. She was baiting him, and he refused to bite. "Eh..Its just words.. and most people can't seem to handle them." She admitted with a nonchalance, before snatching her drawing from him, awkwardly sliding the folded piece of paper in her ass pocket. She had seen scary, like legit end your life scary in a blink of an eye. Being human, words were her only source of power. Words kept her alive.

She declared she had seen enough magical bullshit to last a lifetime, it was unsurprising that he was part of that magical club. Who the hell wasn't anymore? Besides her. It seemed the only people in her life that weren't supernatural were dead. Even her brother was a dark hunter, whatever that entailed, he hardly elaborated when he came out of that proverbial closet. That ignoranus who didn't even have it in him to stop by once in a while. To have at least a simple conversation with his last closest related family. The next time she saw him, she might as well be a fire-breathing dragon and he, a measly twig house. She didn't care if he was a reaper or whatever bullshit name he called himself.

She had never been asked why she seemed nothing but fodder to the supernatural. She leaned against the table, placing an elbow there as she rested her head on a tightly closed fist. Why? Putting the full weight of that intense stare upon her and she hardly wavered beneath the weight of those eyes. Good luck buddy, that wasn't going to work on her. "Hell if I know. It's like one day someone stuffed me with vampire catnip and it was all over from there." She shrugged, she sure as hell wasn't going to give him anything besides that, not one damn thing. The only one that knew most of her story was Isolt and even she didn't know everything. "Maybe it's my charming personality." She replied with such acerbic sarcasm, it was practically dripping with it.

She tried to goad him into getting to perform for her, to use his powers, it wasn't like she was asking to strip like a Chippendale or anything. He had no problem flexing his muscles before, why not give her a glimpse? Of magic. "Okay, captain buzzkill. You could have had me fooled with the magician vibe you have going on." He made his office seem like fucking fantasia when he made those papers float. Couldn't he make a broom dance too? She rolled her eyes at him, probably a bad move to your recently positioned boss, but she wasn't really one for couth.

So, she got the job, it was made official with the droning of rules and she might as well started to play a song in her head. Her eyes probably even got that glazed over look she gave her parents when she was a young little kid and they tried to lecture her about safety or why she shouldn't do certain things.

It was a little bit of a whirlwind, even for her. She called him out that even though amidst that prickly exterior that he liked her, even if it was only in jest. He even said he didn't. She raised her eyebrows at him in defiance. She wanted to call bullshit on that one. "Suuure. Okay." She didn't believe him and she let it show on her smug little face. "Whatever you say boss." She could have saluted him but decided against it.

He offered her that hand which she refused, at first. It might not be graceful, but she got up on her own, before shaking his hand. How close he was, her personal space might as well be nonexistent. It was then that those thoughts started popping into her head, noticing the muscular ripples in his body. Would it be inappropriate if she maybe coped a feel a little in the name of science of course? Yes.. Definitely inappropriate. She watched that hand as if to make sure he didn't try any funny business. Harley watched it with a slightly amused wariness. Such formalness for a tattoo shop she thought to herself. But she supposed that's what people did when they have an accord. She gave him a hell of a handshake too.

She tastes his name as if it tasted funny. Brenden.. she didn't mind saying it but she would most likely call him anything but. The raven-haired woman than flat out asked him what he was. Hey, she had to know these things, well because of her own biased reasons. "I know a warlock. He's a good man. I don't know about you though yet, you won't even show me your tricks." No fun. Sterling would, and he even entertained the woman in saving her dog from certain death, old age, but it was still death. Yeah, they may have almost died in the process, but hey her dog was a puppy now because of it. Maybe a superpowered puppy, but he was still here without the arthritis eating away his lifeforce. She would do it all over again. Now if only she could get rid of that magical plant that seemed to follow her around, then she would say she made it out ok.

First of all, his tour sucked balls. Second of all, his tour really sucked balls. Really? That was his tour? She frowned, know all too well that she would have to do her snooping when he was occupied. She would not let this stand. She gave him a pointed look.

She sighs a heavy sigh at his comment about making sure she kept her space clean. "What do you think I am? A brute? I'm not a slob and I am damn good at my work. You might not like me, but you will like when I bring in money. I already have people who are blasting my phone wanting their work done. So why don't you make up for your weak insults and show me something I will remember when I go home tonight and think about my day." She ran a hand through her wavy raven locks, her vibrant purple eyes seem to dance with violet fire. Entertain me, I dare you. It seemed to scream. "Do I have to say please?"

Harley Westward