stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

Matteo spoke of a friend who had a similar outlook to luck as herself, it really wasn't a popular outlook either. People were a fan of placing their blame. Everyone needed something to blame it would seem, some wanted to blame themselves, others wanted to blame luck, and some just wanted to take it out on the world or whoever they wanted to direct that fault on.

"Sounds like a smart man." She admitted anyone that traveled that far less traveled road was someone worthy of note in her books. "I know enough people are willing to accept things as they are. I will not." No, she would travel through the thick of the jungle if she had to with a machete in hand, hacking her own way through, so long as it was her path to take. If fate was a jungle, she would make it her bitch, or at least fail trying. After all it had seemed to frown upon her for so long, why not rise up against those miserable odds? Especially when everyone else seemed so willing to comply. When something was so terribly broken, why did you have to lay down and accept your fate without a damn fight? Why not fix the damn thing and change it when you can?

Then there were the matters of a certain weapon she could use. Now he had her full attention as that curiosity burns within her. He chuckled in response to her declaration that she might not give back such an effective weapon. She was quite certain that only a fool would willingly allow a weapon like that go, especially if it gave you a one up against the wicked bitch of the west. Harley bobbed her head as he said he would show that weapon soon enough, she supposed she could accept that, even though she wanted it now. As selfish as it were. That was why you could imagine that spitfire's face when that block of butter appeared within Matteo's hand and the very shock that roared through her then. What in the fuck was she going to do with a slab of butter when facing vampires? If only she realized that it was truly a misunderstanding and yet the timing was uncanny, certainly he had to know this. A new name of sorts when referring to her slipped from his lips, it was impossible not to notice the constant revolving door of names. Cherie, it would seem to be the most prevalent of them all.

"Well that is a damn relief, garçon. I have a sneaking feeling even when frozen it would be ineffective. I was beginning to think you were going coocoo for cocoa puffs.. The results on that one aren't out yet though." Harley kept an eye fixed on him to see how he would deal with someone insinuating he was mad, it caused that mischievous spark in her eye all the same. However, with the fae calling her whatever he liked, it was time to try out a few of her own. While she was not fluent in the language there were a few words in her arsenal, but she was not quick to show them off just yet. Harley was not one to put all her cards on the table all at once, after all, she was different breed entirely. But his words returned to assault her food once more which in turn caused the woman to shake her head at the goading man.

"So dramatic. This is why you are here, to revive them, so you can bring them back and then devour them. Fucking sucks to be a potato." That sarcasm drips so easily from her lips, giving into that ridiculous notion.

Matteo seemed to pick this battle to fix an already broken food form, it truly wasn't that easy after that it was cooked. But it was a battle the man diligently chose, nonetheless. It was while he worked, pulling ingredient after ingredient from seemingly mid air that she decided to inquire about a glimpse of something positive in her future. Mind you she was entirely fascinated with how he pulled figurative rabbit after rabbit from his hat.

The look that overcame the faes features was slightly disturbing, the red sheen that flashed before his eyes startling to say the least. She wasn't sure if the man was planning on self-destructing terminator style or there was something seriously wrong with him. But it was gone in a flash and it seemed to not hinder him whatsoever as that impish man returned in but an instant, speaking of his prophecy and declaring his victory. Victory! He dare use that word around her.

"It amazes me how someone who has a tendency to lose.. is so damn confident. I think you might actually like losing." That oh so self-assured smirk was plastered all over her face, fading only when a thought struck her, those playfully sardonic words hardly any less goading than his own.. "Your eyes though.... they turned red... Was that your.. vision? Does it hurt, when you get them?" sarcasm aside for now, she could hardly help that curiosity. It would be a shitty bargain to see the future when you didn't want to, but to have it hurt on top of it. Sometimes it was better not knowing.

Matteo did claim that she would one day be alive and free which in turn caused an almost dismal cloud to enter her mind, but one that was in the form of truth. Was one truly free in the grand scheme of life? He paused his work as she asked that very question, she swore he seemed more like a mad scientist than a chef, alas, the question on her mind seemed more prevalent now. But perhaps it is how he responded that perhaps struck a chord more than he even knew. There was a choice in everything and no matter how many times she had her choice stolen from her she would have a choice in which to respond to that. Perhaps that in itself was a false comfort, or perhaps it was power. Her face befell one that only signified her thinking face, contorting slightly to a thoughtful frown.

"I suppose it is not. But this not choosing what to love." There was no choice when Risque was involved. But love, he brings up the love of his children. Love.. the downfall of man. It was a joke, a cruel joke fate had constructed. It seemed definitely its type of twisted signature. "I will take comfort in my choice, no matter how insignificant it is." She was going to need it.. This situation she so found herself within was not like you were at the grocery choosing apples or pears. But the real question was why was Matteo even here? He should be clinging to his sons, focus on keeping them safe within this tarnished world that only wanted nothing more to add more victims to its collection. "What I choose to do.. is take out an many of them as I possibly can." If nothing in this world could offer her comfort, that certainly would.

That was when she got to taste that delightful potato and had a glimpse that even though fate seemed to want to enclose her life in shadow, it could not stain this. How he had managed to turn something so entirely plain into this delectable morsel she would forever be baffled. He bowed and perhaps this time he deserved to take a bow. But it is his words, those two little words that had her amusement falter as those goading words easily slipped from his lips. Her eyes pinning him to where he stood.

"Nice try fairy man.. Being right and winning are two separate things. Thanks for playing, please try again. But I do have to say, you make a mean potato." She shrugged, a little bummed that the potatoes were gone. It would seem those words were something he took to heart because try again, because he did.

He appeared behind her, in that familiar position that only caused her heart to fluster, as if so eager to betray her. The damn traitor. At least this time she as prepared for it because she does not allow hesitation to crush her. Harley does not whirl around to face him like she had before. Instead, she seemed almost content just feel that warmth along her back, pressing into it like she craved it. Harlequin would not yield, even as he claimed her loss. He must have been delusional, letting that victory with his potato getting to his head. But she had solid reasoning on her side and she was hardly afraid to make up these so-called rules as she went, even if they threatened to tangle her in a complicated web. That chuckle that shook through him then and it rattled right through her before he was suddenly gone. "Every game has its rules." She declared resiliently, whether he heard them or not she couldn't tell. However, she snaps to face where he went, fully ready to curse him for poofing, yet again.

It is that fire that lit within her that has her stalking toward him with those lithe movements, a creature determined to win. At least that was what she told herself. Harley was hardly willing to so easily sign over her defeat as she draped herself upon the stretched out fairy, stealing some his warmth, enjoying that scent that so lured her into just the right spot on his neck. He hardly seemed to contest as his hand traced easily upon her exposed skin and how she soaks it up, she was not as impervious as she had hoped. That tickling touch seemed to ignite her all the same, but damn she felt so comforted by it at the same time. That was until his words sunk in and that prickling warmth rushed to her cheeks. That false contentment was suddenly ripped away from her and she hardly wanted to let it go, covering her eyes. She almost reached for his own instead.. Perhaps that would have been the better choice, but clearly she wasn't thinking. All so he couldn't see the gentle pink that kissed her cheeks just then.

When she felt composed enough, the defiant woman allowed those vibrant purple eyes to peer at his own, narrowed in that iconic glare. No hot is not what she would use to describe him. There was a various number of words to describe the man below her, but hot paled in comparison to what Matteo was. But she wasn't going to admit that to him now, no way. Certainly not after her flash of embarrassment. She hardly trusted her own footing in this battle at the moment and she wasn't going to tell him what she thought of him. In fact, she was perfectly content not to tell him at all.

It was then she could hardly help the way she rubs against his hand, briefly enjoying the sensation of it upon her cheek before offering him that thanks for the heavenly potato and claiming to remove a remaining crumble that hid within the corner of his lips. It was a flat out lie, there was hardly anything to be seen. He muttered something in French that resembled close to merci..
"Don't mention it.." But wasn't it her who should have been thanking him.. not the other way around. She suddenly felt a little confused as to what she had even done. It was then that she so reluctantly peeled her form off of him, and her body seemed to protest at her with a vengeance. She lingered there, by him, toying with the fabric on his shirt demanding what his own excuse was for this game since he seemed so very keen on pointing out the basic laws of attraction of her inner feline. She was so close to doing something, but she wished nothing more than to regain that solid composure.

"Your victory is a lie." Those teasing, defying words easily reach out from her then as she collected two glasses and a bottle of spiced gin. "I will let you know when your close." she grumbled, irritated at her body's duplicity to her very mind. He seemed to readily accept a drink and she scans her selection as a mischievous gleam sparks within her eyes as she selects some spiced gin.. How fitting for Matteo's company.

Harley joined him back upon her couch with bottle and glasses in tow and with a renewed sense of confidence. Matteo was sitting upright now, patting the empty space beside him. She placed the glasses and bottle of gin upon the coffee table, her movements are nothing short of composed as though she were virtually unflappable. A chance to lull him into thinking this challenge was over, but it was far from it. "You should get used to the sweet taste of defeat, I promise I won't make it too..." The photos seemed to silence those goading words all the same.. She curled upon that spot next to him, her legs folded neatly underneath her and feet together, slightly to the side. For a moment, it was like she forgot what she was doing, merely staring at those very phantoms that were her life now.

"How did you...?" The words seemed to fail her then as she gawked at him. "I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised.." She was hardly prepared to see those faces on that desk.

"How do you know them?" She questions finally, that question burning through her mind all damn night. Although how soft that very inquiry was uttered, the very words paled in comparison to her own raging thoughts. Just the photo of Risque and Tetradore alone made her skin crawl. There was an overwhelming need to shred those photos, or maybe vandalize them a little, despite how petty that was, it would have brought her semblance of comfort.. But it was the photo at the end, she didn't quite notice, as though her mind didn't want her to see the monster that had nearly single-handedly destroyed her life. It made Risque seem like a kitten in comparison to the scars that asshole left behind.

"That.." She lifts up the picture of Risque between her fingers, as if only to glare at it before tossing it back onto the desk. "Is the wicked bitch of the west herself... She is the self proclaimed Feline queen. They call her Risque, but her name should be known as a masochistic controlling hooker.." She mocks that title, hatred laced within every word nearly rolling her eyes. The photo that once planted beside the array of photos was Tetradore. He was an odd one. "and that man, Tetradore.." She nearly cursed his name. " He has no problem torturing and kidnapping.. but he does have a weakness for puppies.. He is her pet and he obediently does whatever she says, even if he talks to her like she is the bane of his existence. Its fucking weird man." Her jaw is clenched a frown clear upon her features.

Then there were two more on the top row, above the rest. She leaned forward to get a good gander at those sickly pale faces and empty eyes at though they were soulless and the photo captured them in their purest form. "These two.. Hm.. I have no idea who these clowns are.. Same with the rest. I have no...." There was almost a relief that washed over her as she skimmed row after row of photographs. She was glad Risque's brother wasn't included within the hoard of photos, which perhaps would make it an incomplete profile. The thought alone made her sick to her stomach. But then there he was at the bottom, her eyes caught what her mind refused to see. "...idea."

"That one is her brother." She said callused and cold, like she refused to allow any emotion leak into her voice. It was probably the most apathetic the fairy would have heard her. Something more than hate creeps up within her chest, those eyes are like violet flames. "he is worse than all of them combined."It was personal, how damn personal that admittance truly was. "I don't think he is around much anymore. But if Risque ever falls, I don't think he would stay gone." She wanted him to stay gone, it had been several years since the last time she saw him. She had never wanted to kill someone so badly in all her life. She ran a hand through her hair, just to keep her hands busy, forgetting to pour those drinks for a moment, she was too swept up with that reality of those faces glaring at her.

It was then that Matteo offered her a glimmer of hope in a shitstorm. She considered him then, carefully. Unsure how he could actually help her in this. It looked like a losing battle. She began moving absent mindedly, pouring them their drink with the bottle sitting upon the table next to the pictures, in case she needed another. The photographs alone seem to rip a hole in her composure, but she considered his words, carefully, listening to his accented words as though they held the importance in them. When finally, she spoke, looking him right in his silver eyes, those unique eyes that looked metallic then. "You can be my little secret." Her words are almost gentle, but contain no less than resolve than an unmovable mountain.

"Put your pinky out.." She leaned into him then, pivoting her body to face him, with her knees beneath her like she were kneeling. She decided she probably had to explain things a little bit so he could get on her level.

"It's a solemn vow that cannot be broken and has not been broken for almost 30 years and counting." Harley spoke with a certain serious demeanor. This very gesture however small and trivial it seemed, Harley took very seriously. That very motion only used with one other person. A person whom she would take their secrets to the grave. Even though it had been a tradition she had taken from childhood to the woman she was now. It was perhaps the last untarnished memory of her childhood she could recall. Harley was willing to offer this to Matteo right now. She put her own pinky out, curling the rest of her fingers into her palm, only to pull her hand just out of reach as if a thought dawned upon her. "But first you have to tell me.. what that mina tadaa thing meant. I can't have you calling me something rude and then take a vow of secrecy." Those violet eyes met his own, unwavering, unshaken by these terms. "... and if.. this goes bad.. which I suspect it might.. Run far, far away with your little kidlets and don't look back. You can't save everyone." A frown lingered upon her face as she drew in breath. Shit.. things got heavy quick.

She reached forward to grab the two glasses, offering him one. "To secrets." She said with a smirk. Even as the question why strikes her with a vengeance. Why help her? It rattled through her brain so resolutely and yet the question never left her lips. "So my little secret, I don't know why you decided to take a chance on me... I haven't decided if your just crazy or some mad genius.. but tell me of this game you have in mind, I accept your rules. But this doesn't mean you win.." Another game to play, one she could hardly resist and one she seemed almost eager to play like some renewed sense of seeped in hope. Hope.. such a dangerous thing to give and yet it was one she would cling to for as long as she possibly could.

Harley Westward