stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

Harley took pride in the fact that she was able to at least get a one up on the man when she was tied up. A little something to remember her by if this was the last thing she could do. She was by no means accepting her fate, oh hell no, she would be kicking and thrashing her way into the afterlife if she had anything to say about it. At least now, the woman didn't feel so entirely helpless, a final straw grasped at until she another opportunity presented itself. Even if that sharp collision of her head with Tetradore's own had most likely damaged her more than him, it was so worth it. She even felt the hot trail of her own blood spilling in a slow but steady line down her face, she hardly was willing to concede into that sharp pain she felt.

He shook his head looking down at her, she swore his face even appeared morose for a split second, or maybe she hit her head harder than she realized. He uttered those words and they struck a chord within her. "No." She admitted, agreeing with his words. "It never works that way, maybe some more so than others." She mused out loud, a near bitter laugh barked from her lips. This had to be one of the only things this particular duo could agree on, life was a bitch. She just never really considered how much of Tetradore's own decisions were not his own. She didn't think about it, not for more than a split second. Before she was busy concocting ways to get out of this alive.

When did things actual go right in her story? That's what she wanted to know. At this rate, that hope was as good as snuffed out. She squirmed uncomfortably within her tight bindings, testing them as best as she could. Any advantage she could seek out she looked for, trying to loosen those knots, even if just enough to slip those ropes. They didn't budge, only barely wiggled, digging unpleasantly into her wrists more. But she wasn't going to throw herself a fucking pity party just because life wanted to use her as its own personal punching bag. No, she was going to face it like she faced any threat. Toe to toe and staring it down, dead in the eye without fear.

Somehow, she thought if she picked a nondescript apartment, she would be able to avoid encounters such as this one. But the world seemed to have other plans, Ryker, now Risque. Why the fuck did all of the people that wanted to control her and beat her down all began with the letter 'R'. It was an odd thought to have and a less than pleasing coincidence which brought a grimace to her features. She seemed almost in her own head for a moment, getting sucked into the deep black hole of her thoughts. His curious fingers that peeled up her shirt snapped her back to reality really fast. She didn't want him touching her where he had already touched her with his malicious sharpened kitty claws, no matter how long ago that was. The woman flinched beneath his gentle touch, she was like a wild animal in a cage, best not get your fingers too close to that mouth unless you wish to lose them. A threat spills defiantly from her lips. Tied up or not, she was not going to roll over and take it. Those were her scars now, he had no entitlement to them even if he was the reason behind them. She didn't care that he seemed almost regretful in a way, as though he was some kind of victim while he was the one who bound her up. To serve her to the devil herself.

The raven-haired spitfire needed to be perfectly clear, to ensure Ace would be safe without her. He actually seemed offended. "Oh, good to know, not-gangster Jesus. At least my captor draws the line at offing puppies. At least you can fall asleep tonight knowing you have some redeeming qualities. Leaves me feeling all fucking warm and fuzzy like an incinerator." That sarcasm easily summoned danced from her lips. Her lips twitched into goading, angry smirk. If a smile could ever be angry. "I stand corrected.. Your just a puppy hugging criminal henchman." She rose a manicured brow at him and fucking hurt from her self-inflicted gash on her head, she hissed. It was good to know she still knew how to run her mouth especially when that was the only weapon in her arsenal. But it was also really fucking bad getting served up to a vampire all bloody and tied up.

Harley probably should have not continued to piss off the man that might be the only one to make sure Ace was looked after in her absence. This might be the last time she got to see her little furball, he deserved a good long life with someone who would love him, even if it wasn't with her. Anyone would be better than her anyways. Anything she touched seemed to crumble beneath her fingertips. Those vibrant eyes peered upward at Tetradore's looming form, as if looking for a hint of a lie. He nodded firmly. She was serious, she would rise from the dead if she had to, if any harm came to the last spec of joy in her life. He nodded as if he understood. He seemed different from the last time she saw him... He seemed almost human. "Don't forget belly rubs." She added, eyes narrowing in that fierce look before he wordlessly hoisted her over his shoulder. For now, the feisty woman reserves that sharpened tongue for the real threat that lay before her with a sigh she hadn't meant to escape her.

He tossed her effortlessly into the back seat. Back seat? Really? She was hardly a back-seat bitch. It was bad enough she was stuck without the use of her hands and feet. Overkill much? At least he viewed her as an actual threat.

With a great effort, she weaseled her way to the middle seat with the prowess of a snake, to perch on the edge, peering through the gap of the two front seats. She used her bound hands to keep her propped against the passenger headrest, she rested her own head upon those ropes. At least she had a pillow and she could at least stare him down with satisfying glares the whole way.

Harley then asked what he thought her chances were? It was a stupid question but she asked him all the same. "Valuable asset or thorn in her side?" She wasn't so sure. She considered his thoughts on her survival. "Better than I thought. I've had worse odds." She was sarcastic and yet the words she spoke were completely truthful. Did he really think she wouldn't piss her off? He was talking about Harley, after all, of all people. It was in her very blood to say the things most people would not. That would not change, even before the likes of Risque no matter how big and bad she was. That crazy bitch needed to be put in her place and no one seemed to have the balls to do it. Fortunately, Harley had very few fucks to give and very little to lose and perhaps.. the biggest balls of them all, figuratively, of course.

She didn't want to think too much of the battle that was ahead of her, she didn't want to hear her own heartbeat or anything else Tetradore might have to say. It might have not been his order to bring her to that crazy bitch, but he still brought her all the same and she would not forget that. She asked for that music, something to soothe her warring soul. Her vibrant violet eyes looked out to the road ahead. A song she knew came blaring on through the speakers. She was so entirely grateful for that. She sang those lyrics loudly and proudly, not giving a shit if Tetradore didn't want to hear her singing like a loud little songbird. She wasn't going to possibly spend her final moments feeling bad for herself or worry about her captors' ears, she was going to take every last bit of life and squeeze it until it offered her nothing else.

There wasn't a soul that was going to save her, she was going to save herself. She was sure of it and that was exactly what she was planning on doing.

Sadly, that car ride was all too fast. Couldn't he have taken the long way? Couldn't he have just dropped her off at the city limits and she could have just vanished in the night? No, she wouldn't expect a damn thing from him. She wasn't foolish enough to ask. No, she had to get herself out of this mess, like always. One way or another. It was going to kill her, or she was going to be stronger for it. When he parked that car with surprising ease, she felt her heart sink into the acid of her stomach. Tetradore pulled her out of the car, instead of throwing her over his shoulder, he cradled her this time. She hated how small she felt in his arms. He told her to behave herself, at least he asked her to try. "Please, I'm a god damn saint." She scoffs, she clung to that sarcasm with a resolute grip and a grin dancing upon her lips.

They seemed to have taken a back entrance into that club, that music thudding through those cement walls. Fuck.. This felt like a walk to her execution. She softly sang that song that was in the car to herself. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could wriggle free and make it into that club.. Where there were people... Not bound like this.. she would be hopping her way to freedom. It hardly seemed likely. She also didn't trust anyone to help her. She drew in a deep steadying breath, she almost forgot she was being carried. Her whole body was rigid and braced for assault, that anxiety rattling within her like a storm within a brittle cage. At least it was fuel she could use.

Once they entered that office, which was more like an omen of death than an office, she could not help that way she tried to squirm free, trying desperately to unbind her hands, even if she had to break her own hands to do it. Tetradore placed her, bound and carelessly upon the vampire's desk. She snapped her head to glare at him, seriously? She could feel her ass pressing all kinds of keys on that laptop (she secretly wished it spelled fuuuucck you in a word document) and there was a pen that was hardly being kind, poking her in the back. It began making that droning high pitched urgent dinging sound, and it didn't stop. Maybe she could take out the laptop too, she could hardly stop the smug look upon her face. The vampire looked utterly, raging pissed... This was going splendidly.

Harley Westward