stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

It was unconditionally entertaining watching the two of them go back and forth like a squabbling dysfunctional couple. She could hardly help that bubbling laughter that escaped her as Tetradore told her to get a new fucking lamp. That laughter, however, was instantaneously regretted, if only she could have stuffed it back down into that voice box where it belonged. She should have known better to not draw attention to herself but how close to impossible she had found it to hold back. The last thing she wanted was to remind the psychopaths that she was still here, despairingly hopeless bound and thankfully not gagged. Risque seemed to do something to Tetradore almost instantly, that she swore she felt the room get a few degrees cooler, it nearly made her shudder, it was quite obviously nothing good. This was certainly not how she anticipated spending her night, on some psychos desk with a 60% odds of even living this deplorable prison. All she wanted to do was get her tipsy on and draw with the company of Ace. Was she asking for so goddamn much???

Any hint of laughter was gone in a matter of moments while she watches that terse stalemate between the two supernatural titans. At least that was how they looked like from here, is this what food felt like? It was an odd thought to have, but she had it nonetheless. That attention so shifting back to the woman of the hour, lucky her. A dramatic sigh escapes her when Risque directs her loyal panther where she wanted her, a scowl soon finding Harley's face.

Harley didn't know what was more disturbing, that apathy upon Tetradore's somber face and the ease in which he binds her, or the sound and smell of his burning flesh as he manipulated those silver binds without even flinching. It had to have hurt like a bitch and yet there was nothing there, not even a twitch of his features that reacted to that pain, it seemed so unnatural. She hated how fucking helpless she felt in those moments, bound and now stung up against the wall of torture without a hope for escape. It didn't mean she stopped looking for one. She even tested those binds, but it was very clear they were strong, stronger still from the ropes that still tightly bit into her flesh. The smell of Tetradore's burning flesh however made her scrunch her nose in distaste. There were some smells you wish you never had to experience and the smell of burning flesh was certainly one of them for Harley. It was so terribly distinct, and she would recognize it from a million miles away, even if her sense of smell was hardly up to par with those supernatural senses in this very room. How could they be so unaffected made her sick to her stomach, thinking how they could end her with that very same apathy in but a twist of their wrists. Yet, Harley attempts her own version of a mask, looking as defiant as ever, refusing herself to appear so very weak even though that was exactly what she felt in those very hopeless moments. Once those binds had been secured, Tetradore retreated to a nearby couch, casually flopping within it.

Harley could hardly help the way she looked at Tetradore who so unconcernedly sat there like he was bored out of his mind, watching the goddamn show of her own demise in slow-mo. He was honestly just going to sit there, unaffected, imposing his judgment. Of all the people she had to die with, these sordid lot were certainly the last on her list. Couldn't the heartless man show a fucking ounce of decency and DO something? Of course not, he was her enemy, she would never be quick to forget, or the fact that very fact that she was Isolt's friend had any sway on that monster of a man. She didn't care at all for the weak spot Isolt had for him, she was going to get her revenge one day if she could survive this. However, her gaze did not linger on him for long as Risque was suddenly within her space, how strangely silent she was even with those ridiculous heels on. How she could even walk with those things on was a remarkable feat in itself. Risque was the biggest threat in that room at the very moment, her seething hatred for Tetradore would have to wait.

It was hard to think beyond the rage as those unforgiving manacles dug relentlessly into her tender human flesh, that rope digging into her skin further. Of course, it could always be worse, but god it hurt. She would hate to see what it looked like underneath that rope, it probably looked as excruciatingly raw as it felt. But none of that mattered when Risque's icy hand crushed her throat after those antagonizing words left Harley. She couldn't seem to help running her mouth, couldn't seem to stop herself from digging her own grave. In one fluid movement, she swore she heard the devil whispering to her as that suffocating hand cut off that breath and any further words. Fuck that hurt, she was so painfully aware of ever finger that dug into her, especially that thumb as if it felt for her pounding pulse. Well, at least it took away from the pain from the binds. It felt like an eternity with Risque droning on and that hand clasped around her slender neck, she was going to pass out she knew it. It caused her heart to race, she squirmed trying to loosen that grip but it was an insistent hold. She let her vibrant eyes bore at Risque with that hate she felt. But that glare lost its bite as she felt herself slipping, sleeping like a mudslide, that spotting overtook her gaze. She said something about removing her tattoo but the words barely seemed clear. How the fuck was she going to do that? She hardly wanted to find out. Out of sheer resilience, she uses whatever strength to use that pain to keep her eyes open as though her iron clad will would be enough to keep her here in the present. It was then that Risque released her hold and she could seize that oxygen once more. Harley choked that sputtered breath, gasping for air until she could spit those very words 'fuck you' in that raspy but heartfelt voice.

The moment she was able, the petite woman launched herself at Risque, that very action shockingly painful. Those silver chains tighten keeping her from near colliding into the vampire. "Not while I'm breathing." She uttered defiantly and that was when she was met with that icy finger to tilt her head away to face the left, how so much strength could come from one finger was nothing short of mind-boggling. She tries her best to fight it but it was futile. In an instant the vampire was there sinking her fangs within her neck a moment later. It felt more like a rabid dog bite, all four fangs embedded agonizingly into her neck. That skin having no choice but to rip through skin and sinew. She was no stranger being bit, but this felt different somehow, violating in every sense of the word. There was nothing gentle about her bite, wincing before a strange sensation washed over her.. Woah.. What the fuck was happening? She jerked her head but it only made that pain worse as Risque's bite hardly loosened, clenched on tightly.

For a moment in time, Harley wasn't sure she could recall the moment when Risque stopped feeding, using her neck like a proverbial straw to a juice box. The demanding sound of that vile woman's orders directed at Tetradore himself is what tempted her back. But there was something not quite right with her vision, she blinks, trying to regain focus.

Risque said something ominous about Harley screaming. "You stupid bitch... your brother taught me not to scream. Or did you forget he chose me over you?" She uttered barely with every last bit of fight she had left before those hallucinations bled into view. She swore through that haze she could hear Risque's voice, they no longer existed in that moment.

"Isolt?" She asked as her friend came into view as clear as day, but she looked sad, so sad and there was blood so much blood pooling from a hole in her chest. "What the hell happened?" she demanded at that figment but really it wasn't Isolt even though her eyes betrayed her... It was Tetrdore's looming form and yet all she saw was her best friend bleeding out before her eyes and she tried to reach out for her, call out for her but she said nothing, forgetting herself and where she was.

Harley Westward