stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

Struck.. The raven-haired woman was caught off guard by her companions' words. Well maybe less on the actual words and more upon those thoughts that they dredged up. For a scant moment, she was nothing but a coward and yet anyone that knew a singular thing about Harley, she was anything but. But she was no stranger to pain, the gut wrenching brings you to your knees kind of pain. One that she had forged into a powerful armour woven with that warrior's soul. For a flash of a moment she forgets to breathe, peering before her at the dimly lit endless road ahead. She sipped that pain, fierce as it was resolute knowing damn well she would need it one day to ignite her.

She lowered a hand, driving with only one hand clasped tightly atop that wheel, her voice harbouring not a single ounce of sarcasm nor tease... "Iz.. there isn't a single woman that doesn't want her mother in some capacity.. in some shape or form throughout their life whether they admit it or not. Just don't leave her." Harley added, unable to pry introspective purple eyes from that road then. Her own mother did not leave this world by choice. Yet were there not days that she didn't wish she could simply talk to her? Even though it had been so terribly long ago, she had almost spent equal parts without her parents than with. Yet it did little those moments when she looked into the mirror she still saw her mother's eyes looking back at her..

That shift within that car seemed to shift to a tumultuousness that neither of them truly acknowledged out loud. The dark nighttime sky was a blessing, that soothing, near dramatic shadows fell across her feminine features save for the dim light from the dash. That temporary flash of pain was like a mere drop of blood lost to an endless ocean.

The heavy conversation, lost for now, fortunately giving to a brief reprieve. After all, how could one resist the lure of that iconic inflatable massive gorilla upon that box store. It was a bonus that it was open late, perhaps the supernatural community needed to fulfill their costume needs well into the wee hours in the morning and yet that did not show as that large parking lot only possessed a few lone cars scattered within it. A little stop would do them some good, now that they were safely far enough from the city she had called her home.

Harley was content to ignore the unenthused teen manning the very shop was an easy task as the pair walked into the fluorescent-lit store which revealed its endless selection. That admittance of Isolt's sex life was admittedly less than... adventurous than it had been "I told you! It's all downhill from here. Next thing you know it, you forget to shave a week or two... and then you're in separate bedrooms. Oh god Isolt.. You gotta show your little girl there isn't death after marriage. Don't let that fire die.." The woman content to raise her hand gesturing idly to the sexy costumes upon the rack, that mischievous jest woven within her words. That half smirk tugged at the corners of her lush lips. She could not hold back a peal of soft laughter that escaped her all the same. The hilarity that it was coming from her single friend with the saddest love life that ever existed. That was when the raven-haired spitfire went through the ample well-stocked selection idly humming softly through herself as she considered that ample collection of overprices attire. Soon, she uncovered an absolute gem.. A dinosaur costume that lurked, the packaging thicker than the others. She unhooked it to garner a closer look. Oh... how she could see herself within that ridiculous costume. A slow cheshire grin began to spread across her lips. How did one even get into it she wondered. Isolt was quick to add her own approval.. Like Harley needed any more convincing. She hugged that package to her chest.

"Choose your costume Isolt. I don't give a damn that it isn't Halloween." She quipped smuggly. Content to twist her companions arm. Just how convincing both of them knew her to be. "I bet you... even preggers you could still entice Damon with any one of these.. Hey.. you miiight uncover a hidden fetish you never knew about." That iconic sarcasm brushed her words as Harley offered a devious pointed look.

Isolt's excuses were coming in strong and how good Harley was at tuning it out. That stubborn force showed Isolt that there was no goddamn way she was getting out of this one. Her companion was going to have to try a lot harder than that. That was when Isolt near reluctantly continued to peruse the merchandise, before she was able to finish those defeated words.... Inspiration had struck! A flash of black and white before the crimson haired woman pulled out an equally ridiculous costume of a cow. A fucking cow with udders and all. Harley's wicked smile grew wider that met nearly from ear to ear. "Sorry.. What's that?" The little hellion swept in plucking that costume before darting to the cashier who watched the whole ordeal, placing both costumes with definitive purpose upon the table.

'Is that all?' they asked, monotone as though they would rather be anywhere but here.

Harley was nothing but determined as she hastily grabbed a few random packages of candies like they were going to run out... Casting a watchful glance to Isolt who could clearly not match Harley's determined haste. The sneaky she-cat already had plucked her wallet from her purse, placing the bills upon the table. That hard earned money placed into the till when Isolt approached which triggered that rather mischievous glean in her eye. "Hey... I'm giving you options other than streaking." Apparently she had heard Isolt's every word.

"Someone has to make sure you haven't 'udderly' lost it, mama. You'll thank me one day." All too deviously she plucked the oversized plastic bag containing their contents before drawing toward the exit with that perfectly defiant strut for added effect. Those doors slid open to admit her into the fresh night air as she spun with that feline grace to give Isolt a look, opening her mouth to speak with humour.

"Besides.. I have 9 lives to live and you only have one... So I suggest you live it.." One exceptionally long one.. But who was keeping track?

Harley began to move to the car before tossing the bag into the back seat unceremoniously, plopping into the driver's seat once more. Onward!

The pair of friends chattered happily, stopping occasionally at a random motel that looked like something Norman Bates would own. Harley swore there were no amount of showers that would leave her feeling clean. Regardless, it was easy to forget about the city they left behind and fall into that carefree existence.

For a moment, she felt almost normal. As though she could feel those restrictive binds loosened just enough that she could almost forget they were there. After a few stops at some roadside attractions and solid driving time the sign 'Welcome to New Orleans' Came into view. Even Harley could not deny she was looking forward to it.

The air felt thicker with humidity and heat that surprisingly appealed to her inner feline.

"Apparently.. Our hotel.. Is haunted..." Harley casually added conversationally. "It used to be some orphanage for boys... We are supposed to get all the spooooky details when we get there.. It's right in the french quarter too... You can mark my words Iz, I don't believe in no ghosts."... right? Surely it hardly mattered that they got the last available room. The one no one wanted.

Harley Westward