stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

Really, it should have felt strange to simply plop yourself on a seat across from a perfect stranger who clearly had the vibe that he was brooding. Yet the raven-haired were was all too aware that he was perfect. Perfect to lay low in the aftermath of the beginnings of what was clearly a bad barfight that she had accidentally caused. This poor prickly warlock was perfect and unlikely to cause a scene to further add to the mayhem that all but seemed to follow her in her wake. Some people left behind sparkles and rainbows.... Not her. Never her. The spitfire was never one to walk quietly, it was simply not in her DNA. Like she was a magnet for trouble... one that unfortunately had the potential to be entirely contagious. Harley with that self-assured poise, kicked out the chair across from him, landing into it with a heavy thunk. It was nowhere close to the grace of the feline she was. As if she content to embrace the anomaly that was Harley. Or perhaps felines were simply not as graceful as people thought.

Perhaps her brazenly blunt observations were not the best tactic to use, to lie low. As if she could ever truly muster it. At the very least, she felt she should have received some credit for the fact that she said 'hey' first. Ever the people person skills. Rather than the frown she almost expected him to wear, the warlock took on an expression that seemed almost surprised rather than irritation over her less than sugar-coated candour. Really... people should appreciate that quality more. Wasn't it better to be with someone who spoke the truth than... a liar? Life was too fucking short. Hell, hers seemed even shorter.. Especially with all the shit she was wrapped up in.

Harley studied the man across from her, committing his dark features to memory with an almost subtle devilish quirk that lingered on her lips. That was until he chuckled. As if he was amused. Now that was surprising. He really didn't seem like the laughing kind. Maybe she had misjudged him. That confidence seemed to shift into something else... Like the expression of a curious feline, perched on a windowsill, watching, studying as it seemed aware of every single nuance, unsure if it was going to strike or it was content.

The warlock was quick to reply to that bluntness, formed into a question that one would think was all intended to goad. He claimed it was a first. The woman nearly scoffed at the first wave of disbelief. He wouldn't lie to her now would he? It was a shame that smoke seemed to... assault her sensitive sense of smell, finding it almost distracting from the man himself. The look must have shown because, even more shocking than that chuckle, he put it out. Hmm. She definitely misjudged him.... Her gemstone eyes shifted to the dying cigarette he abandoned and then back to his eyes.

Her lips parted to unleash those words that were so often drenched in sarcasm.

"Aw... so I am your first then? That's cute." She could have said she was honoured.. But that a bit much, as was the all too smug glimmer that sparkled within her eye.

His gaze seemed to shift, peering over her shoulder as if something caught his eye. That simple shift in attention made the woman want to turn around. Shit. Was it really that bad? Did the fighting start already? Surely she would hear it. Fucking vampires moved so damn quick. This warlock, he was perceptive she realized almost too late. Far more than she had given him credit for. He knew. He simply said that much when she was met with a silent accusation of a gestured hand and arched brow. An all-too-felt sigh left her in an almost dramatic fashion. Maybe she should take a look at her own handy work? What damage had she caused this time? She sat up a little straight as the woman twisted around in time to watch the first fist being thrown. Sailing into the air just to collide with the other man's face. Vampires... so territorial when it came to what was perceived as theirs. Why did she prompt this? She was merely minding her own fucking business. What was it about her? How she hoped by merely removing herself would have... dissipated the tension. Fucking vampires and their stupid aggressive tendencies. Isolt wasn't like that. At least not yet.

Languidly, acting like she was... unflappable, the dark-haired woman faced the warlock that sat across from her once more. She leaned back into almost the same casual seat as before. Maybe she shouldn't look so amused. "Oh, that? That was not my fault." Trying to look innocent was next to impossible. No one was buying that shit. "Well mostly.. Not my fault." She amended, clearly able to elaborate that very tale and yet chose not to. Although, she found the fight behind her almost kind of comical. Hell, she found vampires kind of comical. Like they were sex-deprived jocks from high school but infused with extra testosterone of some shit. If the warlock was truly bothered by it, he didn't allow it to show as he rolled his drink within his hand... with a freaking smirk on his face. A look that wasn't there before.

He was amused. Or at least Harley could deduce that much.

Harley could not help that snort of amusement at his final words that prompted her eyes to roll. Misery loves company? Well.. that statement was true enough... but that sarcastic little question at the end had made her want to play. Oh, two could play at this game. "If you want a pretty little anecdote, my friend, I hear hallmark cards are excellent for that." Sarcasm met sarcasm it seemed in a well-met battle. He didn't know who he was messing with.

It was at that exact moment that she remembered her drink, drawing it to her lips... hoping she would at least be able to finish at least one of those tonight, even when she came here for the very purpose of having far more than that. That was until the killjoy vampire back there refused to take no for an answer.

"Maybe we can take a pass on misery for now and settle on.... Hope." Hope? What special kind of crack was she on?

She continued only a moment later before he could get a word in, her vibrant expression remained trained upon her newfound companion warlock. "Hope that I can finish at least one drink without another vampire trying to ruin my night." Ah, there she was. She rose her glass as if willing to call that some kind of lame toast.

Still, she would drink to that... then again. She would drink to just about anything tonight.

She heard a loud crash, the sound of a wood table splintering behind her and some obnoxious shouting that she wanted to tune out as background noise.

That couldn't be good. Maybe she spoke too soon.

Harley Westward