stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

That pet name hardly did any justice to help that growing agitation, how she hated being called... kitty. She had barely any time at all to come to terms with what she was. Yet he hardly seems phased, despite that awful look in his eye. Of course, the wild cat that she was seemed unable to help that defiance that rippled through her even as he strikes, lifting her from the ground to the point her toes barely kissed. How that oxygen was sealed off, stolen from her completely. Yet that hardly seemed like the most pressing concern as that silver chain sizzles into her throat, that crippling pain was unlike anything she had experienced and she could do a damn thing about it. Perhaps, except for maybe kneeing him right in between the legs. Fear made her do impulsive things, mixed with defiance and her own potent ire she was a glorified time bomb ready to explode. Her gaze never falters as she just about strikes him then, fighting against the urge of her own hand from wanting to claw at his relentless hold, ready to pry it from her encased neck. Anything to get some reprieve.

What would have happened if she did send her knee within her groin, she would never find out. Perhaps that was for the better as he merely tossed her away like a skipping stone, which was almost more like a mercy then, as she gasps for that precious air. The blood dripping from that opened wound from silver seemed to even distract herself, even with the smell of burning flesh still lingered in the air like a perfume. Harley fights that valiant fight for her own control as she drags herself to her feet once more, not allowing him the satisfaction of letting him see that she wanted nothing more than to feel the cold comfort of the floor against her cheek. She was tired of fighting, tired of dancing on eggshells and toning it down. How foolish she was to want more out of that life that seek only to kick her while she was down. Her thoughts shift to thoughts of the past. Those dark memories menacingly dancing before her eyes. She survived that, like she would survive this. Yet did she truly believe that? She had no choice but to. Her breath was still uneven, trying to regain her breath, trying to cope with that pain that seared through her neck, perhaps that pain grounds her from getting swept away in doubt, hatred was always one of her more powerful weapons. That indifferent mask is suddenly there upon his face or the goading her with that collar and lead certainly helps fuel that anger. She swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of her crushed throat. Darcy tied it around his waist like a belt, like an ominous threat between them. She received the message loud and clear, gritting her teeth in response.

It was disturbing seeing him so violent with her on one hand and then so tender with that kitten who obediently listened to his command with clear adoration in those bright eyes. How tenderly affectionate he was with that cat in those moments before that whistle had her summoned upon her throne at his shoulder. That feline seemed to eat up that attention as he scratched her underneath her jaw and a long drawn out exaggerated sigh. She wanted this night to be over and done with so she could simply have time to regroup and examine her own wounds. How desperately do those fingers want to brush across that wound, to clean that blood away, to remove it from sight. Sarcasm once more finds her, growing irritated with simply waiting around while he loved on his little lynx pet. The faster this night was over, the better.

She almost wanted to bite back that only the answers to stupid and what the hell even classified as a stupid question. She grumbles with an unimpressed shrug, hardly caring for that demand to 'come' like she was some fucking obedient dog. Yet it almost seemed relieving to leave this damn place, even if it meant leaving with dead eyes, despite that very notion irking her to hell.

Out in the hallway, she listens to that door to his room shut with a firm resolve. Shit, this place was like a labyrinth, twisting and turning and the doors were brimming with silver. There was no chance in hell escaping this place unless you had a keycard. It was even more surprising to see so many vampires living under one roof, and how she despised that the blood at her neck was like an open invitation to some free for all buffet. She could feel those eyes on her everywhere she went. It made her uneasy.. She hardly wanted to be here at all. She seemed to sink into her leather jacket a little as though that would hinder her scent. Princess however, seemed content to stare at her as if claiming she was a queen and Harley were merely her subject. She would be damned to hell to let that little smug kitten shit to think she was going to back down. Harley merely stared back, she wasn't going to back down to some little kitten. What a disturbing little creature she thought, looking into those blank eyes that so mirrored her keeper. She wondered if Darcy could see from that little feline's eyes then, how she fixes that creature with a glare.

It was another presence that seemed to ensnare her then, she swore she could feel eyes at the back of her neck. The raven-haired woman pivots her head to see, painful that action was, but looking behind her seemed far more pressing now. There was a tall man, slender but athletic build standing in the middle of that hall just staring, emotionless. Clearly a vampire thing. Harley gave him a thorough glare. "Not happening." She called out, hating that she was pretty much calling out to every damn vampire in this hell pit. She looked back to the disapproving eyes of Princess once more. She was really cute minus the creepy eyes. Perhaps she could win over that little fur ball one way or another, in time. She couldn't make everyone he enemy, could she? Even if they all were, ever last one of them, but they didn't need to know that. That was a sure way to die faster. Harley looked behind her once more and found that vampire was gone. Good, take that ninja vampire.

Harley tried to familiarize herself with the route Darcy took to get to that parking garage, what she would do to get her paws on a keycard. How painfully normal it felt, two vampires socializing, they almost seemed like a pair of gossiping humans. The woman seemed incredibly receptive to Darcy, the way she easily flirts with him was.... Interesting. Not to mention Darcy hardly seemed to mind. She didn't look a thing like Risque either, maybe he didn't have a type. Maybe bimbo from hell was, because this blond haired ditz was exactly that. Exactly the kind of woman Harley would avoid like the plague itself. What the raven-haired woman hardly liked was how easily those eyes turned to her. She tries her damned best to look as zero fucks given as possible, but it was that mention of Tetradore that brought a scowl to her face. "He didn't make shit.." She mumbled under her breath, defiantly seething. If there was someone she hated just as much as Darcy right now, it was him.

They continued to talk... about her like she wasn't even there. So far... all she got out of that conversation was that blondie was curious of her, too curious, and they were going somewhere named... 'uant.. must have had an H there. Darcy seemed entirely content to forget h's existed. Haunt.. that name sounded familiar to her. Hm. They would also potentially need back up. What the fuck were they doing? At least they were out in public, that had to count for something. There were more opportunities that way, to maybe do some recon of her own. She also learned that Risque was getting her nails done. The very thought of the wicked bitch of the west getting her nails done seemed, so very bizarrely mundane. A sigh escapes her as she contently ignores the vampires chatting it up like they were old school buddies.

That blond vampire then bid them goodbye. Who the fuck was princess.. what kind of name was that? Recognition blooming upon her face then, a genuine lightbulb moment. He named the little feline princess.. now she knew just what level of fucked up she was dealing with. "Harley.." she corrected the blond, unable to keep the amusement of the Lynx's name from her voice. Barely looking at the blond woman as they walked away Harley began to laugh quietly to herself. The cats name was fucking Princess. She bites her lip hard, as if to not let a sound betray her but that was proving to be difficult. She barely raised her hand so say goodbye, she honestly couldn't give a flying crap enough to care. Whatever. She lets her hand fall to her side idly then.

"She seems... friendly.." She uttered that blatant observation out loud, trailing behind the vampire, keeping a rather healthy distance. The chirping sound of the car indicated where they were walking to, like a gps. Yet what was surprising was just how many car's filled those spaces, they couldn't all be Risque's could they? So many cars...so many of them were sexy sports cars, others were less showy and yet still expensive as hell, she recognized those makes. What was up with vampires being loaded to the gills? Of course, they walked up to a town car that looked so much like the one Tetradore picked her up in, a Jaguar.. The irony was fucking real tonight. A soft sigh escapes her. Fuck that car. Fuck Tetradore.. Fuck Darcy too and that blond bimbo vampire at the door. She hardly put much thought into where she was sitting, perhaps habit leading her toward the front of that car.

He tells her to go in the back. A sharp unbidden hiss explodes from her lips, that sound surprising to her. "Fine by me, Deadeyes." It just meant she was out of reach from him. Yet that didn't seem to save her now when that hand shot out blindingly fast, there wasn't a hope in hell to dodge it. She should have been watching him more closely, should have been less in her own head. She tries to instinctively jerk away from him, her ear be damned in that moment. Next thing she knew she was being thrown into that door, she thudded helplessly against the cool surface of that car. She barely had enough time to catch herself but at least she was able to save her head from smashing against that door, that would have been detrimental to those snazzy new glasses. A snarl escapes her, a grating inhuman sound. How badly she wanted to use those newfound claws to rip him to pieces. How that very thought entered her mind as she imagined those claws that burst forth from her hands. Her body starts to quiver as she felt that shift start to threaten itself from her skin, it was like a peal of thunder, rumbling riotously within her. "If you keep treating me like your own personal punching bag, I won't be much use to you on this stupid assignment, asshole." Her fingers curled like claws against the surface of the car. She mumbled under her breath, trying to regain that composure. "Especially if you expect me to save your vampire ass... but hey to each their own."

Instead, she opened that door, with enough spiteful force that felt damn good, sitting in that seat the furthest away from raptor teeth, behind his precious feline that sat proudly in the passenger seat. It was then that she felt like she could let her mind simply drift. She looked out the window, watching those buildings zip by like a blur. How fast were they going? Too fast. A car crash, however, seemed the least of her problems. It felt like they were on a highway in the fast lane, but they were navigating side streets. That vehicle seemed to barely strain as they melted deeper into Sacrosanct. Maybe she should have paid closer attention to where they were going.

A sharp sounding whistle seemed to slice through her thoughts. What the hell was that racket? That whistle despite how low it was, was raucous at best in the small confines of that car. He wasn't whistling at her, was he? He wanted her quiet, she was being quiet, now he wanted to mr. chatty? She rolled her eyes, to find his mismatched gaze looking at her through the rearview mirror. "Yes, baaaaabe?" She enunciates those words, mocking the way that exuberant blond vampire from before. That malicious smile gripping her lips then amused with her own silly impersonation of that way too friendly, perky blonde vampire. Just what the world needed, one more bimbo in the world. At least she didn't seem violent, not like Darcy, Ryker, or even Nathaniel. Must have been some testosterone bullshit. She wondered what sort of waves she could cause by telling Risque of the overly flirtatious woman at the door, perhaps adding a few liberties. Would Risque even care? Or would there be one less vampire to worry about? Perhaps Darcy would have himself a hard time too.. Oh, this could be good, too good. When did 'too good' plans ever work out? But this was exactly what Matteo had warned her about, she remembered that warning clear as day. Not to get in the middle of those two. Yet.. what if in by doing so she made herself a commodity? Someone that couldn't be easily thrown away? She tasted thoughts within her mind, not sure if coasting under the radar was just going to get her killed faster. How did she want to go?

What did she do to piss off Risque, well that was a loaded question. "She didn't tell you. Its hardly fair you get to ask all the questions and I do not." She mused over that for but a moment. She wondered how much she should divulge. He was truly about to find out one way or another, maybe it was worth it to see the look on his undead face? "Oh, I did something alright. Her brother. It turns out Stockholm Syndrome is real, but it can work both ways." It was more the other way around, the doing, but it painted enough of a picture to maybe send his eyes back to the road before him. There was a reason why he wasn't in the picture anymore. She crosses her arms then, leaning back into the seat, letting that sink in. She peers into that rearview mirror, probably lacking more fear than she should have, searching for any kind of recognition to what she was saying knowing very well the creature that she dared to taunt.

"Look, I am not an idiot enough to know I'm getting out of this, whatever this is." her eyes narrow, fearless and perhaps bolder than she should have been, waving an idle hand like she was simply talking about the city lights at night. At least he couldn't get her when she was back here. Whatever the fuck 'this' even meant. They called, she came? For what? They had enough muscle to fight their wars. Why did they even need an unproven were? "Why don't you tell me what we are doing tonight.. no bullshit.. I think it would make it a hell of a lot easier if you threatened less and just tell me what you want." She raised a daring brow at him, just saying, it can't hurt to try a better tactic.

Harley Westward