Tetradore's reaction was something that she-devil had known to expect, those powers she wielded were terribly convincing. It needled the very fabric of reality to create a cesspool breeding ground for his own worst nightmare to take shape right before his very eyes. She could practically see his face crumble along with that careful resolve, that was when she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him. That blade poised with an executioner's precision right at that vital artery where he bled so freely for those beings he cared for. Oh, Tetradore for all that careful tenacity, he was nothing more than a bleeding heart for those under his care. All she had to do was offer him just a little rope and he saw to it that it became a noose. That alluring woman had him practically eating from the palm of her hand now. It was a precious thing, watching that fight all but choked out of him. Where was her defiant cat now, hm?

That movement causes Risque's predatory to drag toward him then as she saw that shift of his form, his arms falling helplessly to his side in a futile attempt to capture her attention. It exposed that exposed chiseled artwork, Darcy's particular brand of brutality that she finds particularly pleasing upon Tetradore's caramel flesh. However, all of that was a little too late now. Her fickle attention no longer fixated as attentively upon his colourful flesh and more upon those festivities she had planned for the rest of that night. Tobias has always been that weak spot that was so easy to exploit whenever she needed to drive a certain point home. How she wished to douse Tetradore's defiant flames.

She enjoyed her name on his pleading lips, yet surely, he must know that he needed to try so much harder than that. That desperation seems to roll off of him like a fine delicacy she wishes she could taste on her tongue, perhaps later. Later when she has his whole world crashing down around him. She would always be his personal apocalypse, his sweet disease that would always flow through his veins, corrupting him and changing him, shaping him into her magnum opus.

Silly Tetradore, one would think that after so long that feline would have learned how things worked here, between them, in this very office, in this entire world. How that reluctant man should have known that his pleas should have been grander, more dramatic than his measly attempt he offered that temptress. How utterly disappointing, Risque expected so much more from him, in a desperate bid to save his so called cherished friend. Did he not believe her? His pleading was weak at best, he would have much better luck if he threw himself at her feet, to beg like the boy he once was. Perhaps even similar to the way his grandfather did too. She saw so many similarities within them at times that it was almost startling as though she had to remember, especially in those eyes of his.

The clock was ticking away and soon Tetradore would taste true desperation, at least for a little while. Most of all, the humble realization would come crashing down upon his head that it was all his fault.

How such defiance clings to him then when she demands for that tail, those apathetic eyes drawing to that man so forged with that feeble confidence. How she knew the building of defiance would all come toppling down, should she only pluck one piece. The fresh prickling scent of anxiety curls throughout that air, crackling with energy and promise which prompted that purr of amusement forged within that wicked woman, she was toying with him, after all this was her favourite pastime. Letting him think he had a choice to deny her that very act, those pale eyes are like a vast expanse of emptiness as they watch him with mild bemused interest. That undying spirit reigniting only to allow her that game to snuff it out like some sick and twisted game. It always ended up the same way, without fail.

It was that moment that that cruel temptress moves with that sensual, sinuous gait her hips rolling in that way that usually cause gazes to linger. A dance Tetradore himself was familiar with. A breathy sigh exhales, as if reluctantly parting those crimson, forbidden lips, as though that very issue of air possessed a sinful secret that Tetradore could never comprehend. Those pale hypnotic eyes then drift toward that spotted leopard before her, nothing more than a heap of used up garbage at her feet, she tapped him with that bladed heel simply to see it squirm. Still, even as she hovers so close to his cherished companion, he still holds that unwavering defiance. Perhaps it would have been admirable and considered an astounding display of loyalty, but she had little care for it. Foolish, forever the foolish boy and his ability for sentiment. When will he learn? That subtle wicked smile grows, smug and knowing, never daring to falter even at Tetradore's foolish insistence at that singular word, no. He truly should have removed the word from his vocabulary, it was a mere illusion that it had any source of power here.

She taps that heel as if she were suddenly growing impatient, a steady beating sharp sound against the polished dark wooden floor below her feet. Tetradore's words make her stop that steady beat, her toe suspended as if frozen in place. "All I keep hearing out of your wretched mouth is no. If you knew what was best for you.. for your spotted companion, you would be thinking of ways to make me change my mind." How little did it matter now though, her mind already made up, his fate was already secured within the unyielding skeletal clutches of her shrewd twisted mind.

It was in those precious moments that Risque uses her affinity to wield that one and only assault upon that illusion of Tobias. After all, this was going to be his victim, not hers. No, that stubborn little word left his lips again. "Try again, mon chat." She is toying with him, like she held him suspended in the air by the tail. That scent of agony amalgamated with blood and that cry of hopeless desperation was exactly that very sound she craved, it. She nearly sighs with the pleasure of it. How quickly Tetradore ran to that aid and yet it was all in vain as she watched that very scene before her, Tetradore upon the ground where he belonged, peering up at her with those emerald defiant eyes. Desperately, he tried to keep that severed tongue within his companion's bloodied mouth in an useless endeavor to put his cherished leopard back together again. The sight along nearly brings a laugh to the surface. She slithers closer to him then so she could run those talons roughly through his tousled locks like she... pet him.

That vile temptress goads him further, asking if she had his attention now? Well? That pleasing sound of the word 'yes' causes that flicker of recognition within her, that anticipation rising, but she waits for that right moment. It was that naughty little growl she hardly cared for leaves his lips, that toys with her resolve, plucking those strings of impatience. How he wouldn't have the will to growl when she was finished with him. "Well done, you can say it." That sick derisive amusement finds her then as she peers down upon that caramel skinned man at her feet. She almost asks him to say it again.. and again just because she liked that sound from his lips.

How her powers had barely licked upon his flesh, that faint promise toying, teasing. She was done with that gentleness. That room is then pelted with a tsunami of that crackling power, crushing, and pulverizing as it grips his so resolutely just as that little leopard began to stir, coming too. It feels... exquisite. She inhaled, trailing her fingertips in a slow sensuous dance along her porcelain flesh "Remember tonight, the moment you decide to say no to me again." She pauses, tipping her head to the side, trailing her fingers along her lips, enjoying the feel of her own caress as she then idly toys with those silken locks that cascade around her in a sea of blue black.

"Remember this moment the next time you decide to grow a spine, when you cling to your little pack for hope. When you fuck your whores. Remember that nothing is yours unless I allow it. Your will is nothing more than entertainment for me..." How easy it would be to take it all away, to keep him locked in a cage until insanity nearly sweeps his mind clean.

"It is time for you to break mon chat. To know the consequences to your actions. To me now.." What she meant by that, her eerily calm voice as potent as a loaded gun pointed at his temple.

With the wrath of a god, she slams that power into him like a cannon ripping right through him, it is all but paralyzing. Never had to used this much force on him before, but she so badly wanted him to feel it. Risque was finished with the toying games, finished with that hope he so desperately clung to. How she violently wrenches out that cat from her Tetradore. Those chains that bind him to her yanked with such violent force.

"Do it now. Eat his heart, that heart you so stubbornly adore. Then when you are through.. bring his tail to me." That command laced heavily with that affinity that attaches to that defiant man at her feet. She keeps her chin high, just those eyes looked downward as she toys with those sharpened manicured talons. What a perfect place to watch those festivities unfold before her, it was more like an execution and by now, Tetradore must know that there was no way out. At least within that feline form those defiant words of his didn't need to assail that coiling patience. She begins her slow circle of that duo before her in that dimly lit room. How she pushes and pulls at those proverbial chains that bind him, she will rip him from the inside out if the had to.

We all know how this ends.

Go on, eat your heart out.

Risque

just face the moon and put your death mask on