How very much he loathed...waiting. The vampire a notoriously impatient creature even if he so hardly let so much as a tendril of his disdain for those ever dragging minutes linger upon his features. It was her right to make him wait, after all. It would be decidedly poor form upon his part to display impatience towards her and yet waiting with Tetradore was a distinctly dangerous press upon his nerves. Darcy had lost interest in that sad little human caught skulking about the bar the night before. The man all but ignored as Darcy reclined upon that sofa within Risque's office. His mismatched gaze focused almost entirely upon that pacing panther who seemed as determined to ignore him as Darcy was determined to all but bore a hole into Tetradore's side with his unyielding gaze. How easy it would be to kill him. Oh it would take only a glance and he could finally be rid of that cat that had all but plagued his life since they had brought the creature home those twenty years ago. How pleasurable it was to consider a world in which Tetradore did not exist. One in which Risque did not look at that pantheras if he was something she desired. As if Darcy himself was somehow not enough. His teeth very near ground together at the thought, that sound echoing like nails upon a chalkboard throughout that office. That vile, dark aggression slithering and turning within his mind like a blackened snake. One that was becoming steadily more and more ill content with its lot.

How fortunate it was that Risque's arrival so served as a distraction. Darcy quick to rise to his feet in that respectful fashion. His gaze dragged away from that pacing panther to focus upon that new task at hand. In the very least he might so be afforded that chance to release his aggression upon someone. It was almost difficult to watch Tetradore's claws lacerate that flesh if only for the blood that bubbles to the surface so willingly. He could taste that coppery, metallic liquid in the air itself and how readily it appealed to that predatory within him. That hunger coiling within his gut, his throat near burning with that desire to feed. Risque's presence only further those predatory wants, as if feeding off her own vampiric urges until he was near salivating at the thought of that meal sure to come. Yet- how well he knew his job. How well he knew his place. Darcy content to merely....prowl about that room, watching over Tetradore's work with a distinct care, mentally noting each useful word that pathetic dolt of a human managed to garble out. Those names and address committed to memory to recall for Risque later when she asked. The scent of that blood steadily increasing as those stains upon the floor beneath that hanging fool grew darker. How very much blood he was wasting. How thirstily that floor drank- before Risque's teeth finally found purchase within his neck. Darcy's own jaw veritably clenching as the sight alone tugged at his own hunger. Perhaps she intended to deny him that meal tonight. His tongue brushing over his fangs in anticipation all the same before she so finally rewarded him for his veritable patience, releasing that metaphorical chain. Darcy very near akin to a bullet from a gun with the speed and force with which he tore what remained of that man apart. Those horrific, double fangs lacerating through flesh like a carving knife. The vampire savouring every mouthful of that hot blood.

How much more satisfying the world was when he was less....ravenous. Tetradore was dismissed swiftly from the office. Darcy content to watch him go as his own attention returned to where it thoroughly belonged. His darling Risque. Even if tonight, it seemed, any further desires were destined to go unfulfilled as she announced her desire to change and meet him within the bar itself. How unfortunate she so desired to remove that bloodied outfit from her figure when she looked nothing but....perfect painted as such. Darcy offering her that very compliment all the same before moving to finish his meal and return to his own room to change his clothes in turn. That new pair of black jeans, boots, black shirt and leather jacket easily tugged into place. That heavy silver-coloured chain about his neck tugged from beneath his shirt to rest on the outside. Risque so often disliking it to be hidden in any sense. He did as he was bid then, stepping out from the labyrinth that made up the Syn to slide into the shadows of that bar itself. The crowd moving to the time of that music. His mere presence prompting several staff members to make renewed efforts at their tasks for fear of reprisal. Fucking idiots. If they had any sense they would hardly have been slacking to begin with.

His mismatched gaze easily perused that crowd before settling upon those two figures at the bar itself. The sight of Tetradore attempting to drink himself into some sort of oblivion was hardly new in any sense, the sight of Cobain attempting to converse with him was a little more...curious. Darcy shifting but slightly closer then and yet remaining within the throng of the crowd all the same and out of their immediate view. The occasional word of their conversation managing to find him through that change in music. For all his utter loathing of Tetradore he so hardly found Cobain any more tolerable. A petulant, painful child who seemed to have no real use at all. A mistake upon Risques part and yet he was so hardly fool enough to voice his opinion on the matter aloud. His lack of interest in the boy so surely displaying his thoughts clear enough. That sudden feel of fingers agianst his back readily stole that simper to his lips, his hand continuing to brush across his arm then. How well he knew her touch. How much he adored it. How much he craved it. He was not the only one it seemed, who had grown curious of this interaction.

"Darlin'. If yar wish."

That greeting fell from his lips in that southern drawl in near the same moment as that compliance. Darcy moving to follow her graceful figure through that crowd. More than one being hurrying to get out of the way of the pair. Her head so suddenly turned back towards him with that inquiry upon her lips. That very suggestion so prompting his lip to quirk upward, that soft snort exhaled in response before his head shook.

"Fuckin? Naaw, dun reckon so. If Tetradore was fuckin' anybody it would be dat Tobias fella he loves. Shame he ain't doin' Cobain, mighta made a man outta 'im. Reckon Cobain's still a virgin dun you?"

That chuckle hummed within the back off his throat then as he moved to follow his beloved Mistress towards her progeny and pet. Her very words practically cooed towards them. Darcy so abruptly lifting one hand to slap Cobain in the back of the head as he passed before coming to lean back agianst the bar beside Tetradore.

"Yar voice broken yet, Cobain? Dun worry any day now."

How very rich of the boy to be goading Tetradore when his body was forever stuck in the guise of mere teenager. Pathic, useless creature. Yet in the very least he was so hardly a rival for his beloved's attention or affection. Cobain so often sent off to take care of some mundane task or another. The boy having little chance to irritate him- unlike Tetradore. Darcy's teeth very near ground over one another again at the mere sight of the man beside him. How very, very dangerous that loathing for the panther was becoming. Darcy a veritable bomb merely waiting to explode and how very sure he was Risque knew it- and only seemed to enjoy winding him tighter. His hand waved lightly, summoning the female bartender then to order Risque that Vampire Kiss cocktail she had favoured of late along with his own whiskey. The young woman behind the counter appearing near terrified to be serving Risque herself as she hurried with that order. Darcy reaching to take it from her before handing it to Risque with that dip off his head. The southern vampire nothing if not a gentleman when he chose to be. Neither Cobain or Tetradore could be relied upon to offer their mistress that respect she deserved. Darcy reaching for his own drink then, that whiskey lifted to his lips before his attention returned to the Tetradore beside him. Those words little more than a mutter to Tetradore alone.

"Can't git the blood outta yar fingernails, eh? Almost like it's supposed to be dare just ta remind ya of the lil gal whose daddy ain't comin home ta-night cause of you eh? Dun it just break yar little 'eart?"

That chuckle hummed within the back of his throat again. Darcy taking another swig of that drink, his mismatched gaze lifting to Risque as she lingered nearer Cobain, the vampire ever watchful of his lover. His gaze glancing over that club once more, those final words near off-handed then.

"You boys ain't bangin' right? Dun make me a liar now."

After all, he'd guessed that they weren't, how he hated to lose a bet- offical or otherwise.


d a r c y
and i'll stay alive, just to follow you home