stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

Why Harley gave a shit about the truth of this rouse, she truly hadn't the faintest idea. For some twisted reason she did. The raven-haired woman valued knowing where she stood, needing to know where to plant those stubborn feet. Yet with Darcy, he was like an unstoppable ping pong ball bouncing all over the damn place. All Harley could do was watch hopelessly from the sidelines, wondering near desperately how she should play her next move. Darcy was a hard person to read and she hated that. She loathed not being able to know what lingered in that twisted fuck up head of his, that before this little field trip, she had once believed to be hollow as an empty hall that she could hear her voice echo off the walls. The concept that this killing machine was actually smart, calculating and all together patient when he needed to be, fucking terrified her. It would be a hard thing for anyone to wrap their head around.

That sudden explosion of snarls and flailing limbs and bared teeth would have been exciting if her very life wasn't on the line. They were a blur, a tornado in that too-small of an office. Where Harley could only hope she stayed out of the damn way between the two brawling murder-sprung powerhouses. When the two vampires collided, it sounded like crashing bone on bone, it was a sickening and quite worrisome sound if one didn't know any better. Vampires could withstand a hell of a lot of damage. How the woman could hardly help but be slightly concerned over the tiny but rapidly growing lynx within his jacket, she was absolutely positive Princess was going to be reduced to a crepe if these two hotheads didn't calm their roll. She was positive a pocket for a pet of any kind, in a bar fight was a stupid idea. At the very least in her little corner of safety, she was not the target of Darcy's demonic-levels of ire, the woman could actually afford to watch. They were going to kill each other, she was sure of it and she was going to watch the damn thing.

In truth, she wasn't even positive if Darcy was going to survive this, even with those ravaging teeth that worked with raptor-like ferocity, with flesh tearing ruthlessness. It was his order that cut through the blood and tension of that office, his soulless eyes eerily fixating upon her. Always so demanding. There was no way she was arguing with that inhumane killing machine, murder clearly on his mind, not now. The rest of the fight was a shapeless blur, even with her new and improved vision. How she could barely keep that distinct level of shock, perhaps even more than Tybalt, at that uttered French word. Darcy was the last person in the world to be speaking such a gorgeous language. It was enough to mess with anyone's head, the other vampire clearly just as confused. Princess leaped from that jacket so suddenly fastening to Tybalt's face like a trained murderess she was designed to be! She had to give the little feline credit, she knew how to use those claws. It wasn't long before the trio was crashing through the door, that door shattering like it was mere obliterated particle board and not solid ash. You definitely didn't see that every day. She saluted the door in mock derision. "You better win.." She muttered under her breath. At the very least gave her a moment alone. A moment to defragment while she claimed what she deemed important within that desk. What Harley give to have more time. Famous last words, right?

Then cue to the bimbos from hell.. and honestly that fight went better than Harley could even imagine in her mind, perhaps, death wasn't in her cards tonight. At least, not if she could help it. The battle went well, minus getting stabbed with a stiletto heel and nearly shot, more than once. It was a good thing.. the gun-toting vampire didn't make up for what she lacked in clothing with her aim. It didn't take trained eyes to know that shot was abysmal, especially for a vampire. Yet, even still Harley was barely given any time to truly register the grand reveal of her awakened powers. That was a thought for another day. Survival. That was what was vital tonight. Get through tonight, regroup and be far more prepared for the next time.

Next time, she nearly paled at the thought, swallowing a thick lump in her throat. She didn't want to get used to... this. No photographs and pretty French decorated words were enough to prepare her for this. That spitfire shoved those unsavory thoughts from her mind, along with her carefully selected, pilfered goodies and that very hat that belonged to Tybalt himself, which now sat proudly upon her head. Surely, he wouldn't miss it, if he was alive enough to care. Harley took a brief second to pull herself together, that irritating song assaulting her ears and then a wicked blast that made the whole building shudder like a bomb had gone off with earth-shattering force in the other room. She swore she saw a random flash of light down that hall. What the fuck. That can't be good. A pressuring urge to escape strikes her. resolutely, reverberating within her chest. Irritation spread across the sunglass, cowboy hat wearing Harley as she took it out on that shoe that was still embedded securely in her arm. That fucking hurt like a bitch, she hissed as she removed the shoe with that heel coated in her blood, the smell of it almost overpowering her then. How badly that feline wanted out of her cage. Tossing with force out into the bar before shortly following, no, storming out of that hallway after that stupid hooker shoe. Harley certainly knew how to make an entrance as that curse fresh on her lips, eyes narrowed as she peers around to a lack of commotion that she finds... surprising. There was a loud thud that seemed to come from outside, causing the ceiling to crumble and crash debris onto the once filled empty dance floor.

Once out in the open of that bar, she surveyed the scene, meticulously taking note of the debris that showered the ground. It looked like a damn warzone. She cautiously looked up to see a massive hole in the ceiling. Huh? There was no sign of dead eye's anywhere. No body, nothing? What the hell happened in those precarious moments when she was occupied? It wasn't THAT long.

It was Tybalt's voice that has her head snapping toward that grating sound. He hardly looked like the man she saw in the office, half of his face was missing, leaving a gaping grotesque hole that left a window into his mouth. Well, that would make eating hard. She turns with a casual grace to face him like he was nothing more than an inconvenience to her even though she was worried. Her narrowed eyes shooting him an iconic piercing glare that would make normal men wilt. He, of course, is no ordinary man. She swore if one more fucking person called her Kitty, she was going to break something. She clutched onto her pilfered goods tighter. Darcy wouldn't just up and leave her to get picked apart by vultures, would he?

At least Darcy would be rid of another problem, her. She assumes he was gone and now, this was her mess to remove herself from. How she felt her body desperately inching toward that door, not allowing her back to face that zombie vampire with the missing face. Harley ignores his request, no, this hat/book was hers now and if she had any hope of surviving Risque she better damn well make sure she kept it in her possession. "You know.. you should really look in a mirror dude, it looks like a bomb went off in your mouth. You've got bigger problems than me and this hat, I pull it off better than you anyways.." She hardly cared if he was only referring to the book, she made it about the hat. She was so good at being difficult when she needed to be. This was going to boil down to a fight, she could feel it in her bones. Harley ignores that offered hand as it could simply be batted away. She just needed to get closer to that door.. not making it far as Tybalt draws closer. Gross.. the closer he got, the more the grotesque he looked. She was too distracted by him that she missed those vampires closing around her before it was too late. Shit.. this was bad. Very bad. His next words reach her ears. Darcy her protector? HA that was fucking rich.

She didn't need protecting, well maybe now she did. But she was Harley if anyone could claw their way out of a nest of vampires with words alone, it was her. An inhuman growl rumbles from within her chest in clear defiance to those uttered words, it was amazing she could even understand a thing he was saying. She was not a god damn damsel in distress, she wasn't going to act like it either. She put up her free hand, snapping her fingers shut as if silencing him, talking over him before he went any further. "As much as I like the new edition of a sunroof.. in a vampire bar.. it matches your face by the way. I'm not...."

It was then that there was movement, a sudden commotion as a random flag pole seemed to fly from that gaping mouth of a hole from above, that flag flapping behind like something from an epic battle scene. The cavalry was here! A form she couldn't distinguish as her attention was mainly on that wannabe cowboy. Too much was going on to compute it all. IT HAD TO BE SUPERMAN. Or... a flying monkey.. not an actual person. There was a thud before that spear plunged right through Tybalt with such disturbing ease, ending up mere inches away from her throat. That sudden crunching vehemence of it made her nearly crash into the vampire behind her. How she could hardly hold back that surprise, nor the leaping backward. "Jesus, fuck!" She exclaimed with a certain zeal, she had enough scares for one damn night. She was quite sure her heart couldn't handle anymore. She was fucking done. Done. Tybalt fell, unceremoniously crumpling upon himself in near slow motion, propped up dramatically by that spear through his chest, instead of toppling over completely, Darcy standing there now in his place, challenging the remaining people in that bar.

Fucking Darcy... Of course. She didn't know whether to be glad or horrified that he came back. "Dude! Watch where you stick your damn pole." That irritated snarl rips from her then as she merely stood there, heart pounding and eyes fashioned in a weaponed glare. No, she couldn't say she was the happiest girl to see him, he had some serious mental issues..But she at least wasn't facing 8 vampires on her own. Those vibrant violet eyes shifted downward toward the now very dead unmoving Tybalt, how she was only expecting more bodies to fall now. That they hardly had the same effect as Ray did. Blood almost ceremoniously dripping from his mouth, feeding the hungry ground below before a commanding voice shattered that shock. Her eyes widen as she near gawks at this strange villainous leach that was Darcy. A rightful second in command to the hellish queen. She now understood how he got there.

You would think it was enough to keep him silent, but it doesn't. "Someone is hard to kill.." that sarcasm dripping from her lips was the only greeting she gave the vampire. She peered around her as the vampires all lowered their heads in respect. He shoves his hand out abruptly, demanding that book.

All of this, for a stupid fucking book. She reached over to pluck that book from under her arm, that action hurt like a bitch. Trying to keep that wince from her face, she shoves it at him to take. Darcy began to open that book like he was about to do a little light reading, the gesture ridiculously casual. Harley rolled her eyes as she turned away to look at those submissive vampires, who simply stood there, slumped shoulders and somber expressions. They looked miserable like they truly felt bad for their fallen leader. One of the women began to quietly sob, trying to hold back the sounds.

Harley took her chances, walking in front of those other vampires, sniffing the air, collecting each one of their scents. One of them dared to look at her, as if the scent of her blood was like an invitation he couldn't ignore. His teeth exposed and glinting as he stared with that hungry expression, coiled like he might leap after her at any second. Harley growled, stalking right up to him, vibrant eyes staring him down before taking that sturdy box in her hands using a newfound quickness, even though that move hurt to do so. She slammed that box up and into his nose, like punching a shark right on the snout. Hearing a satisfying crunching sound that made her damn point clear. Not so prone to thinking you are food if you fight back. A snarl escapes the vampire, considering retaliation. It was, however, short-lived when Darcy's voice assaulted her. That vampire was quick to look away, not wanting to capture the attention of the biggest bad in the room. She does not look at dead eyes just yet, at least not before tipping her newfound hat at him, she always wanted to do that. Smirking slightly before it faded when she peered toward Darcy's direction.

Disgruntled vampire didn't cut it for Darcy what so ever. She was curious what could cause that look on a vampire such as him, then she remembered how much she didn't give a shit enough to bother risking the chance of asking. Yet that singular word FUCK, seemed to amuse her more than it should. Apparently, he could say fuck just fine. Of all words. There was a distinct look of displeasure upon Darcy's face, that grinding of his teeth like he was sharpening a blade made the woman cringe internally. He slammed that book shut with an alarming abruptness, placing it within his jacket not a moment later. It was followed with a sharp piercing whistle that sounded abrasive to the raven-haired woman's ear, it sparked an instant loathing within her gut.

In an instant an eager Princess leaping upon that bar with certainty, darting across the room to take her perch upon Darcy's shoulder. Like a circus act, it was impressive and yet all she could want in that moment was to get the fuck out of here. At the very least, the woman had a semblance of relief wash over her, she could not deny that she was glad the little shrimp was alright, it was better than dead.


That command issued cut through the droning music and immediately the vampires appeared warily at one another. There was a commanding way that Darcy conducted himself then like he could get them to do whatever he wanted. They all but scrambled to obey as he purposely stepped over their fallen leader, that flag hanging limply. She had to give it to the vampire, he truly knew how to make a statement. She seemed mesmerized by that imagery of Tybalt.. It burned within her mind, the smell of his blood tortured her nose. How Harley cannot help her long lingering gaze while Darcy's attention lay with the lineup of compliant vampires before him.

It wasn't long before the sound of her botched up name escapes him. How that very enunciating of her name, or lack thereof, was getting on her last nerve. How she bristled at it, that spitfire's patience wearing thin as the night took its toll upon her resolve. "I'm standing right next to you.. there is no need to yell." Her head snapped to waywardly glare at him, her voice equally just as snappy. What could he possibly want from her? He seemed to truly notice her for a second as she turned to face him, his calculating, apathetic eyes looking to the box, securely under her arm and the massive rectangular lump in her pocket. He abruptly gestured toward the lineup of vampires, that question seemed to catch her off guard. She offered him a puzzled expression, but it seemed harmless enough. How checking out those vampires were the last thing on her mind in that moment, she looked to the men that stood before her. What was the point of this exercise?

It must have looked funny having that petite woman confidently striding along them, casually giving them the up and down. But it seemed easy enough to not warrant her protest as those assessing eyes focus on the men. Her task at hand. On to the first one, the one on the far left.. "He is alright I guess.. nothing that makes him stand out though.. I would say.... He is like.. soup with very little flavor, he is in some desperate need for some spice. or something. Maybe he needs another haircut.. I don't know." How the man looked at her! Like he was butthurt offended and yet Harley paid him no mind. She then gestures to the one next to him after briefly looking at him. "Pass..." There that was simple. She looked right at the one with the bloodied nose.. "He was cute.. but has serious anger issues." She grinned at him as if to coax that anger out, that low growl escaped him but she was already on the next one, content to ignore him. Peering at the one next to him, oh he was pretty.. Really pretty. She poked him in the chest. "This one is... smoking guns hot.." Why she decided to talk like that she hardly knew.. maybe it was the hat. She looked at him like she was flipping through a magazine, peering at the models with only half interest like they weren't actually people standing in front of her. She looked at the final guy. "Sorry.. bud.. but you have to at least have to clue." She beheld the last unappealing male before looked back at Darcy, his smiling face disturbing to witness, uh oh.. what has she done? Yet, she finished her task, stepping away from those vampires then, gesturing toward the last male without looking at him. "This one has a face only his mother could love." There.. She did it.

Shifting her gaze away she caught a silhouette of a man pointed a gun at Darcy. He fired a round at him with seamless ease before the woman could even yell 'holy shit'. Harley barely had any time to react before her power seems to work on its own accord, feeling those free-flying bullets cutting through the air with deadly intent. Instinctually she places her hands up like she had before those silver bullets simply stopped in their tracks, suspending in time for only a moment. One less than a foot away from Darcy's head, another even closer to Princess. Poor cat, can't catch a break. The timing was in perfect as that song ends, just enough to hear the dramatic sound of silver clinking against the concrete floor.

"Uh shit... so this is awkward." Did she just save him? Did she just save her mortal fucking enemy?

She looked wide-eyed and dumbfounded at what she had done, while the vampire at the door began loading again, cursing. Thankfully he yelled something while Harley seemed to have her internal crisis. "YOU KILLED TYBALT." He yelled, his booming voice cut through the music of the next song.

"I'll have your head." Vampires... always so emotional Harley thought as he pointed at Darcy with that gun, murder evident in his vampiric dark eyes.

Harley Westward