OTW? What the actual fuck was OTW? Was it even a word?

An irritated growl rose within the vampires throat as he lingered within the back of that alleyway, that phone shoved back into his pocket. How fucking long did it take Harley to do one fucking simple job.? Behind him, several of those other Syn vampires lingered. Chase and Ian had taken to smoking beside the van. Carter sat atop a dumpster, swinging his legs. Kit scuffed his shoes agianst the worn concrete. They were restless, bored and yet that order to wait kept them in place. How much longer will it take, Darcy? Ian looked over his shoulder as he spoke. Darcy's tall figure lent agianst the nearest wall that afforded him a view of that place he knew Harley would bring their victim. That alleyway was still quiet and yet he suspected Harley would be on the move by now. He'd sent her enough messages to convey his rapidly declining mood.

"She's on da way now. Jus be ready."
I been ready for forty fucking minutes
"One mure fuckin' word outta ya and I'll beat yar 'ead agaisnt a wall for 'orty fucking minutes."

Ian seemed to think better of questioning him further. Kit and Carter avoided his gaze. Chase stayed mercifully silent. Good. Darcy's vampiric hearing had already picked up the sound of Harley's voice, along with the Crusniks own. She'd taken her sweet time. She would pay for that later. Oh, how inclined he was to forget her ignoring his calls. Darcy's tongue moved to brush over the tip of his right fang before the vampire leaned away from the wall, his attention falling back upon his subordinates.

"Ian, get da van ready. Kit, get dem pliers, Chase find a muzzle. Ya all know what yar gotta do. Dun let da fuckin' ting bite ya."

Each of those vampires had been briefed on the task ahead and yet information on these 'Crusniks' was difficult to find. Risque herself having told him more than any of those books or websites the very night she had demanded that creature be brought to her. This 'Arlo' had hardly seemed dangerous and yet Darcy was ill inclined to leave such things to chance. Risque did not accept failure. The Southern vampire, as always, having planned that task meticulously. It was merely unfortunate he would have to rely on imbeciles to assist him. Harley's voice gre louder, closer, the woman leading her unsuspecting victim deeper into that alleyway and towards a singular broken street lamp. It was dark enough to prevent anyone from those neighbouring houses from seeing down and into the alleyway. That crusnik would be incapable of fighting back, let alone making any noise to attract unwanted attention. The job would be simple, easy. He had done a million of them before.

Darcy's mismatched gaze narrowed upon the sight of Harley and her companion as they finally walked into view. The vampire, for now, continued to linger within the distant shadows at the far end of the road. He could hear the pair speaking and yet he was still to far away to make out those words entirely. Had she stabbed him yet? She was the slowest fucking bait he'd ever met. The Crusnik seemed to waver for several moments before, finally, crashing to the ground. A single short, sharp whistle was the the only command Darcy was content to give, that sound readily seemed to rally the rest of those vampires into action. Kit was almost overly keen. The younger vampire clearly curious of their victim as he strode ahead of the group, those pliers held over his shoulder as they emerged from the darkness. That group of vampires was quick to gather around their fallen victim, Carter reached out to shove Harley roughly aside. Darcy lingered at the back. The cowboy content to remain watchful of that alleyway at large. Is this it? He looks like a regular guy! Kit seemed almost overly disappointed. Carter reached one foot out to nudge the Crusniks shoe, as if anticipating he might suddenly launch upward. Well he's out of it at least. Ian snorted softly. This is the famous vampire killer? Randall could snap him like a twig. We don't need that muzzle, just load him into the van and lets get home. Chase stepped forward to do as Ian asked, the blond vampire halted only by the sudden snarl from Darcy himself.

"Do as I told ya. I dun care 'ow fuckin' 'armless 'e looks. Pull 'is fangs out and muzzle 'im first."

Ian's irritated mumbling was ignored as Kit eyed the pliers in his hands. The younger vampire so clearly had no idea how to use them and yet Darcy made no move to offer him assistance. His mismatched gaze so instead near fixated upon Arlo near curiously. They needed to move more quickly. Arlo was asleep and yet the Crusniks eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. That so usually the first sign of...wakefulness. Hmm. Maybe Crusniks burned through that sedative faster than regular vampires. Darcy's gaze shifted back to those other vampires as they seemed to be fumbling with the pillars.

"Do yar need 'elp, Kit?"

Kit glanced upward, the young vampire taken aback by his boss's offer of help. Darcy was, after all, rarely inclined to be helpful. He nodded. Darcy's hand extended then, taking the offered pliers from the other man before a vampiric burst of speed saw the cowboy grasp Kit's hair firmly in his own hand. Kit yelped in surprise. Darcy's fingers maneuvered that tool with rapid ease, jamming the point between Kits own lips to grasp one of the vampires fangs before that vampiric strength saw him rip it from Kit's mouth entirely. Kit's screams echoed up that alleyway. The blood poured freely from his mouth as Carter swore and stumbled backward into Harley. Darcy, for his part, was merely content to eye that tooth before thrusting those pliers at Chase.

"Fuckin do it faster next time."

Kit, he was certain, would not fail to follow an order again. That fang would grow back. He'd been kind enough to only take one and not both. How merciful he was feeling tonight. Carter, it seemed, was far more willing not to face the same fate as he knelt down beside the fallen Crusnik. His finger reached out, lifting Arlo's lip to eye one of those large fangs. Arlo's head turned with near blinding speed, the Crusniks fangs biting into Carter's hand. Carter's shouts rose to meet Kit's whimpers as Darcy dodged backward and Ian dove forward with the clear intent of wrestling to Crisnik off of his companion. Only for Arlo to disappear entirely.

"It fuckin teleports!"

A hiss of frustration spat free of Darcy's lips. The bastard was gone. Fuck. nothing he had read, nothing he had seen, nothing even Risque had said indicated Crusnik's were capable of that power. It bit me! It bit me!. Carter rose, nursing his hand as Ian swore. Darcy's mismatched gaze shifted toward his subordinate then. That bite wound was..angry the skin around it had already become bruised and purple and yet it was those puncture wounds that were perhaps the more....potent injury. What the fuck do i do? Carter spun to face Darcy then as the Southern cowboy merely eyed that injury with clear apathy, his shoulders lifted into a simple shrug.

"I suppose ya'll die."

Those very words were no sooner out of Darcy's lips than Carter's rolled back into his head, the vampire collapsing onto the ground in a heap. Hmm. That venom did work as fast as the books had said. Kit's soft sobbing suddenly reached a fever pitch once more. Darcy's gaze shifted just in time to see Arlo's fangs bury themselves in Kit's neck before that Crusnik disappeared again. The younger vampire succumbed to that venom within seconds. Kit's rolling lifelessly onto the floor. That bastard of a Crusnik was hunting them. Little prick. Another growl rose within Darcy;s throat, the cowboy hardly making an effort to stop Chase and Ian as they fled back towards the van. That was a damn stupid move. Ian was the first to fall, Arlo appearing beside him before his teeth connected with Ian's shoulder. Chase almost managed to reach that van before Arlo appeared behind him- his fangs connecting with the back of Ian's neck. Less than three minutes and the Crusnik had downed his entire party. No wonder Risque desired a creature like this.

A simper of sort's managed to find its way to the man's features, Darcy's tongue brushed along his fangs once more before reaching downward to grasp a plank of wood from the ground. The cowboy seemingly content to eye it for a moment before his mismatched gaze turned to Harley. The woman, miraculously, having been spared that Crusniks wrath. How curious.

"Ya gotta admit, Arley, dats pretty impressive, eh?"

Darcy gestured loosely to his fallen companions. The cowboy continued to roll that plank of wood around within his hands as he spoke. Those words holding a falsified, eerie friendliness. Each syllable seemed to drip with a venom all its own.

"Do ya know da ting 'but vampires dough? Crusnik or not, we gotta obey certain rules. Age is power. Da older da vamp da stronger it is, da faster it is, da more powerful it is and do ya know who da oldest vampire 'ere is?"

Darcy's gaze lifted at last from that wood to meet Harley's own. The southern vampire having stepped closer and closer towards his little WerePet with each stride. His figure paused mere inches from her own then before that smile found his lips once more.

"It's me."

Darcy pivoted abruptly, that wood swung like a baseball bat behind him to collide with horrific force with Arlo- the Crusnik having appeared behind Darcy in near the same moment. Darcy so effortlessly pedicating that very movement as Arlo was sent flying. Darcy was faster then his younger opponent. Arlo's figure collided with the wall of the alleyway, the Crunik left sputtering as he struggled to catch his breath. That shattered wooden plank (or what remained of it) was tossed easily from Darcy's hand. His southern drawl once more rose into that alleway, those words spoken aloud to Harley and Arlo both as he strode towards the Crusnik now.

"Dis one always attacks from 'ehind. Cause he's a fucking cowrd. Ain't dat right, Arlo?"

Oh how easy it had been to analyse his movements in mere moments. Arlo so unintentionally showing his hand in those few moments it had taken him to down the rest of those vampires. Darcy's ever sharp mind so readily deducing his predictable attack pattern. Was not his ability to do just this, after all, one of the very reasons he had existed at Risque's side so long? Oh how he was going to enjoy this.....

We are rough men and used to rough ways.