stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

A client came in, a regular. If he kept it up, he would eventually be covered from head to toe. Not that she minded. A tattoo artist thrived on repeat work. She didn't mind the were grizzly named Robert, he looked very much like the animal he shifted into. He was built like a tank, his brown locks matching that of his animal's thick fur. The were at least like to tease her, which made the several hour session slip by faster as she worked, more than willing to verbally spar. He was out of his depth every time and yet every time she cornered him, she received the largest toothy smile she'd ever seen, bloom across his lips. Only this time he was accurate with his final retort. "You need to get out more." True. Yet being spread too thin with this strange double life she'd been forced to lead she found it almost tedious. Harley's retort was lightning fast. She rose a purple hued eye to catch his sidelong glance.. "You need to date more." Well.. she hardly expected the reaction she had received, that smug look upon her face fading. No one was every prepared for a full grown man that looked like he might as well been apart of the Hell's Angels to fucking cry... ugly crying too... Full on water works streaming down his face. His sobs that grew, shook his body that she had to stop the inking process.. Oh fuck, what did she do now? "You know.....or don't date." She tried to amend... and yet it only made the crying worse.

Fucking hell. She couldn't deal with sensitive people. She almost always stepped on their toes even if it wasn't intentional. Eventually... he broke out into a whole hour long story of how his girlfriend Robertat, of a year just up and left him for his best friend. Yes, Robert and Roberta... Seriously, she did him a favour leaving... those kinds of couple names just sounded ridiculous. Well, Roberta left Robert.... just hopped into his truck and left him. No truck, no Roberta. Less than a few days ago too. Poor guy. He blabbered in between thick, wet sobs that the Roberta chick didn't deserve. If someone was going to cheat, they sure as hell weren't worth your tears... He'd asked about a cover up tattoo... A large tattoo of... Roberta plastered on his thigh. She felt even worse for that poor sap. Rest in piece yet another hopeless romanatic destroyed by the crippling woes of reality. Needless to say, it was a long day and his words, despite their teasing lilt rang true within her mind. Go out more. Yeah, right. She went out plenty. Right?

Maybe she could afford an over-priced drink or two.. Maybe feel like she had semblance of control within her convoluted world. Just one night wasn't going to make the world fall apart. It was just her again, so locking up was easy as she considered her options, flicking off the lights and locking the door as she headed off ino the dead of night.

It almost felt freeing and probably a little sad to see her phone was deader than all the corpses in the largest cemetery in Sacrosanct combined. For once. No ever-growing demands from Darcy. No clients. No word from her friends. It was oddly silent, even for her. A few drinks would do her some good to settle the restless fire that seemed to be growing inside of her. A fire that would get her killed if she didn't learn how to tame it. She walked by a place she'd seen at least a dozen times before ordering a cranberry purple haze. Not straight up like her usual. But it would do. She wanted something different than her usual.

She slipped outside, welcomed by the spring air because she couldn't stand the vampire that was giving her far too attentive eyes from across the room. She knew that look. Thirst. Like she was some snack and not even in the complimentary way. That was definitely not going to happen. No fangs anywhere near her.. well anything. The confident little spitfire eyed the people that mingled outside, hardly minding her own company as she people watched. It was almost amusing to guess their miserable stories, their insecurities, their hopes and dreams. Sometimes, she gave them impossible lives that she would never know. That was when she found a loner. A well-dressed grumpy, sulky loner, looking like he was going to put a bullet into his head out of boredom or slip into a deep dark depression. She could hardly tell the difference. That was when a cold hand pressed to her leather clad shoulder, his fingers a little tighter than was comfortable and yet an unwelcomed hand of the undead upon her anything was far from comfortable. "Come drink with me." Came the voice that she didn't need to turn around to see that it was the man inside the bar. The one with AVOID written in big bold letters across his face.

Her vivacious purple eyes took on a look of annoyance as they narrowed. "Bite me." The were woman spat, thick venom woven her usually sarcastic tone. Probably not the wisest words to tell a vampire who clearly wanted to do just that. She tried to shrug off his touch. But it wasn't nearly enough to shirk his tightening grip.

"I can do that." He took it as an invitation. The assuming fucker who didn't know the basics of body language. Harley stepped away. "Look leach. I just want to drink my drink in peace. Go find some drunk willing chick at the bar. There are plenty of women that have low enough self esteem that will let you chew on them if you call them pretty." She growled and that iconic sarcasm still remained.

"Fiesty.. I like that." Someone choke her with a fucking spoon. Gag. Another one? Fucking vampires. Why did she lure them to her like a fly to honey? Like she was some vampire magnet. Just as she was about to let that silver tongue free... a voice of another chimed it. This just kept getting better. Harley couldn't help that groan and yet she found an opportunity that wasn't there before. Thanks, Douchebag number two. This one thought he could save the day and not from the goodness of his own heart either. He looked like a jock, all meat and no brains. But Harley didn't stick around to see who did what. She simply walked away, in search for a quiet place to drink her drink and blend in. Sure enough, here mere presence would bring chaos to this bar.

The petite woman returned her unique purple gaze back to the warlock. He wasn't a vampire.. he would do. She would take broody and bored over whatever toxic masculinity was back there... It was quite obvious that they were going to start a fight. The raven-haired werefeline took her opportunity to slip across the way, sliding into that empty seat across from the warlock with a near dramatic thud. Her drink somehow not spilling a single drop even if it got close to it. Harley's intense, sardonically amused purple eyes settled upon the well-dressed stranger like she knew him. She smelled the cigarette smoke on him, gaze lowered to the one perched into his hand. Nasty habit. She supposed she could ignore the invasive cloying smell that wafted over to her. "Hey.." The leather clad woman casually leaned back into that chair she claimed and made her home. It hardly mattered if the man seemed less than pleased by her brazen crashing upon his sad parade. She canted her head slightly that resembled the feline beast hidden beneath her skin as she studied him silent and calm.

Who wasn't a little sad these days? She could hardly blame him.

Even from here, she could sense that familiar magical signature even over that distracting cigarette smoke that never used to bother her until she turned furry.. Warlock. She could work with that. She liked warlocks. Right now, she liked anything that didn't have fangs and wanted what was in her veins. "I don't know if anyone has told you this before.. but you look absolutely miserable." That sarcasm clung to each one of her words and yet it was merely an observation rather than a statement to be rude... How easily she acted as though she hadn't unintentionally started a bar fight.

It was unintentional, it hardly counted. She didn't think the first punch would have been caused by the second guy, or for the crowd to form around them. She sipped her drink to hide the smirk that threatened to form on her lips. "I'm not here to judge how you want to spend your night.."

Maybe tall dark and broody wouldn't notice the mayhem she'd caused. Or at least put two and two together.

Harley Westward