Darcy was nothing short of oblivious to Harley's utter fascination in that sordid tale of the night Risque and himself had met. If the Southern Cowboy had ever truly considered the near....violent, manipulative....destruction behind that night he so hardly seemed to show it now. The cowboy instead speaking of that night near reverently. His features softened decidedly so as that memory as if it were a particularly treasured one amidst that plethora of others carved out over so many years of life. The night he had met Risque, after all, was the night he had....learned what it meant to be a vampire. To live as their species was supposed to. To relish in what that world had to give him. She had taught him everything, given him everything. There was nothing he would not do for her and oh- how that had hardly changed. She had spared him that night when she had hardly needed to. Though why she had done so even Darcy himself hardly knew. Risque so rarely ever gave a straight answer upon that singular topic. Perhaps it hardly mattered. Her decisions were her own. Flawless, perfect, unquestioned- just as his Mistress herself. How Darcy believed it. With every fibre of his being. This was his truth- and it always had been.

Harley seemed to lean further and further forward, the woman near oblivious to her own shift before she nearly tumbled from her makeshift seat only to catch herself just in time. Right as Darcy spoke of that pivotal moment. The moment Risque had lingered upon whether or not to bring about his destruction. She had slayed every other Youngblood Vampire that night. Tossed them aside like they were mere kittens in her path- their teeth and claws meant nothing. She had radiated power. How Darcy remembered it clearly, the two of them the last ones left upon that bloodied battlefield. He had been more than half-wild. So much blood had drenched that ground around them. His blood lust had been...raging. It had been a miracle he had been able to stop himself from lunging at Risque at all and yet beneath that haze he had felt her presence. They had both, it seemed, desired to find some use for his energy. Deciding to simply fuck one another instead had seemed...logical. The Southern cowboy, even now, failed to understand that utter look of shock upon Harley's features. Maybe she didn't get much sex. That was surprising. She had a nice chest. Her stuttered, choked out question prompted Darcy's own head to tilt.

"Da Devil's Tango? Who da 'ell goes around callin' it dat? Dis is probably why yar single."

Darcy nodded, as if this singular sentence explained the entirety of Harley's love life- or lack of it. The vampire continued with that tale as he did. His words so clearly confirming that 'fucking' had been entirely within the physical sense atop that blood-soaked field and amidst the violence and gore. Harley's face seemed to shift again. Her look was some measure of...awe and disgust at that story and yet how Darcy hardly cared for her opinions upon it. She would hardly understand, she couldn't. She was far too...human even despite her Were blood. A soft snort left the vampires nose as Darcy lent back agianst the stone wall of the alleyway.

"Dun look at me like dat. As if yar kind doesn't fuck as animals sometimes."

Darcy's mismatched gaze narrowed slightly upon Harley, as if accusing her of that very thing. His thoughts, however, were quick to shift once more. The cowboy so hardly seemed to focus on one topic for too terribly long. Darcy instead spoke with reverence once more of Risque's decision to keep him after that night. The Southern vampire so hardly having left her side since. Harley seemed further...shocked by that story. The yong woman seemed to struggle for words before declaring Darcy and Risque sounded....perfect for one another. This description, it seemed, was nothing short of satisfying to the vampire as a ready grin found his lips in response. That gesture prompted those razored teeth to flash. At least until Harley failed to understand that reference to apples and pomegranates. Darcy's hand lifted, waving off that confusion.

"I ain't tellin' that story 'bout da tree again. I dun get it either."

This, it seemed, was a perfectly logical explanation. The lack of cohesion to his sentence hardly seemed to occur to the man before Darcy's gaze landed suddenly upon the pasta he had set down only minutes before. Had it always been there? He felt like pasta. What a glorious meal! Darcy was quick to reach for it. The man lifted it to his lips with clear zeal and satisfaction- only for Harley to claim he had been supposed to pay for it. How quickly his gaze narrowed, that warning within his voice all the same as Harley was told off for that lie, or rather, warned agianst it. Even within that haze of...contentment, the vampire was certain he would not have been so generous. Harley's admittance that he had wanted it and taken it seemed far more...logical. His head nodded in satisfaction.

"Damn right I did."

This, somehow, seemed to sooth him once more. Any sense of tension was quick to flee as Darcy fixated upon those suddenly desirable carbs. He loved this pasta. He didn't eat enough pasta. Maybe he should eat it more. Harley, in front of him, took that moment to stretch out, the woman appearing almost comfortable in his presence and yet Darcy was, perhaps, equally content in her own company as they sat. His thoughts, however, were inclined to jump again. The man abruptly declared he planned to marry Risque- when the timing was right. It was all about timing, especially with Risque. Her mood had to be...perfect. Also math- and saloon doors. Not enough people thought about those. Harley's sudden burst of laughter seemed to coax a truly rare simper to his own lips. That far rarer chuckle followed a moment later as it hummed from within his own throat. The woman's insistence that casinos searched for that sort of thing, if only because they liked to be the ones to make the money, coaxed a soft snort from the man as his head nodded. Darcy swallowed that mouthful of pasta.

"Da 'ouse always wins. Cept when I'm dare. Da trick is ta keep movin' tables, winnin' a bit 'ere and dare- or jus goin' straight to da 'igh rollers. Day play for a few mill at a time, sets me up for da whole night ta win dare."

Thoughts of casinos, however, hardly seemed to last any longer than any of Darcy's other thoughts. The man, tonight, seemed to struggle to grasp any true sense of focus beyond his fixation with that food. The momentary, companionable silence between them however was abruptly broken by Harley's query of the silver-coloured chain at his neck. Her apparent lack of knowledge upon it coaxed a scowl to his features. She had been in Syn all this time and she still didn't know what that chain meant? Had she never looked around? Maybe she was just....slow. Probably. Were's were never very smart. That final bite of pasta was easily swallowed, that container discarded (again), before Darcy's gaze shifted to meet her own. The vampire, for once, taking the time to explain that chain, those collars, employees and ownership- even as the frown on Harley's features seemed to deepen. Darcy's own attention shifted downward, eyeing that chain at his throat as best he could as his fingers reached to toy with it. He'd become almost fond of it, over time. Even if he had once....rebelled agianst it, to some level. Trying to work out just how it came off.

His efforts, all of them, had been futile, having led him to the belief that the chain was enchanted, somehow. His strength, his teeth....nothing worked on it. Nor did it fit over his head to allow him to pull it off. No clasp seemed to exist either. It stayed- because Risque desired it. Darcy, over time, had become near fond of it. Even if Risque still used it, on occasion, to grasp him- to force his attention completely upon her or to....tether him, within the bedroom. That chain was far preferable to the others she kept within her desk drawer. He had hardly seen them in years, much less had them placed around his neck and yet some lessons were not forgotten. Those chains, he knew, still rested within that draw. The pain those barbed chains had caused was...notable. That silver lanced his skin like a knife. Oh how quickly he had learned the lessons Risque desired to teach, or to avoid doing those things that displeased her. Not like Tetradore. Tetradore had failed to learn. He still did. Tetradore was an idiot. Harley.....had a chance not to be. Darcy, in that singular moment, was content to offer his companion that single kindness. To warn her off from being an idiot.

A wrestle within a nearby dumpster drew the vampire's gaze. The seething, building anger within Harley all but ignored as Darcy eyed that dumpster almost curiously- until Harley declared she was not an employee, nor did she have a collar. The woman shifted to her feet then, her arms upon her hips as Darcy's gaze trailed lazily upward to eye her as she stood up and over him. This....was probably the tallest she had ever felt. She was so short. Could he stand too? Standing seemed like so much effort. Maybe he should try. Maybe not. Harley's sudden declaration that her lack of employee number or collar seemed to make her free by default drew Darcy's thoughts away from standing. The vampire, this time, allowed a sudden bark of laughter to leave him. That sound so truly genuine as it echoed down that alleyway.

"Oh Sweet'eart, dat dun make yar free. Dat makes yar a slave. One whose fate ain't been decided yet. Fa yar kind dare ain't much option. She dun employee feline Were's. All of dem is pets. Yar better pray she decides ta keep ya, because if she dun....."

Darcy's finger lifted to run across his throat, that universal gesture of death surely understood. His gaze lifted suddenly to her own once more.

"I can ask 'er for a collar for yar if ya want? Reckon she might let me 'ave ya. I aint 'ad a Were pet of me own in years. Yar gonna 'ave to stop being so....chatty dough. I dun like dat. Yar annoy me wit all da talkin."

Harley desired a collar, that much was clear. Darcy shifted ever so slightly, the vampire making something of an effort to get up, his balance decidedly....debatable as he used the wall to help hold him up. The man, finally, managed to get onto his feet. Had the world always looked this....uneven? Darcy's head shook slightly as if the clear it before the man began to, abruptly, wander away from that alleyway, his steps slightly...uneven as he did.

"Will yar 'urry up, Arley? We goin' dis way. Indeed ta go somewhere. Leave all of dem. If da sun comes up 'efore day wake up day'll all bloody fry and I reckon day deserve it."

His compassion for his fallen colleagues it seemed, was decidedly limited, Darcy instead beginning to wander further down that street and away from the city.

"Arleeeeeey, come ooooon."

Darcy wandered further down that street, waiting for the unfortunate Were to join him. The man clearly determined to go....somewhere. Darcy waited only so long as it took Harley to find his side again before he kept talking. That southern drawl as thick as always.

"Yar know, ain't no cat ever 'scaped Risque. 'Cept one. She let one go once. Jus once in all dem 'hundreds o'years."

Darcy paused again, the vampire looking both ways before stumbling out into the street.

"I reckon yar know 'im. Tetty-Bear's lover boy. Tobias. Risque freed 'im. Only cat ever."

We are rough men and used to rough ways.