It so never ceased to amaze him, the very depths of depravity his Lovers mind could reach. Yet how he adored it all at once. Relished it, reveled in it. Risque possessed an irrevocable, undeniable talent for torture unlike any he had ever known. Her mind was so capable of knowing just how far she could push to leave a being upon the very precipice between life and death- of allowing them to linger there for hours, if not days, before affording them deaths sweet and merciful embrace. He had seen her masterful work more then once. Darcy hismelf lacking her supreme patience for those very games and yet how her methods so often only sought to encourage that fervor in himself. An anticipation that so often saw him hunger to see only more even if he lacked her own flare for those theatrics. Darcy's own brand of macabre showmanship of an entirely different design. Her very mention of the liquid silver so readily piqued his intrigue. A part of the vampiric cowboy near flinching at the mere thought of that luminous liquid and its capabilities. Yet that very curiosity within him so readily coaxed that query from his lips on how far she had come with her research into that very substance.

That she had injected it into her victims was distinctly curious and yet so very like her. Darcy momentarily considering how entirely horrific such a pain must been when the source of that pain was so pumped through your very veins, beneath the skin, out of reach and scalding everything within its path. The mere thought distinctly and delightfully disturbing. Cade, it seemed, her desired target- else the metaphorical rat Darcy had so convinced her to believe existed within their ranks. Hmm. How very pleasing it would be to have Risque remove someone he disliked for him. To watch them melt beneath that silver was only more satisfying. Perhaps he would bide his time a little, to wait until a perfect target presented itself. That no such 'rat' truly existed so hardly concerned him. Risque would not care. Once provided with a victim their screams of his lies would fall on deaf ears. She would not believe them over him. She never did. Darcy wholly content to think carefully on his choice in victim. He would have a few days to decide in the least. How very much he would enjoy this. That mention of Cade and his face so prompting a snort from within him.

"He tinks he's so fuckin' pretty. He might die right dare on da spot if ya ruined 'is face."

How very much he hoped she would. Darcy distinctly intolerant of those more....fortunate looking men. That possessive, territorial being within himself so loathing the manner in which his beloved so ever glanced towards any other man. Men like Cade, those inclined to know just entirely how they looked, only further tending to grate agianst his patience. Risque, perhaps fortunately, having never displayed any true interest in the Blue Moon leader and yet that had hardly stopped Cade from lavishing his attention upon her if only to watch Darcy himself grow more and more irate. Fucking moron. The sooner he died the better. The vampiric man, for now, pushing down that disdain to replace it with thoughts of something far more agreeable. The very night he had met his Lover. That singular evening so treasured within his mind as perhaps the pinnacle of his very existence. The first moment he had laid eyes upon his Mistress so etched into the depths off his mind until he could call upon it with perfect clarity any time he desired. The sights,the scents, the smells of that bloodied evening of hellish gore had never left him. That had been a true war. The sort that so separates men from boys.

How he missed that open carnage and too- missed seeing Risque in all her utter glory and power. The Vampire Queen s rarely given any chance these days to unleash the full extent of her capability. Her words were very near a purr of satisfaction before she insisted that soon the city would be upon its knees before her. That soft sound of pleasure so tugging at Darcy's own throat at that very insistence. That city should thank her for her leadership, relish in it, rejoice in the way she would remove the weak so readily. Yet....so many seemed to resist her rule. Darcy wholly oblivious to why. It was if they could not see what she brought them. Her strength, her power, that very chance to exist in her presence. Risques very reminiscent of that evening they had first encounter one another so tugged that simper to his lips. She remembered, of course she did, she would not forget. He was her favourite after all. Risque insisting he had come along way. His mismatched gaze so falling back upon her.

"I 'ad a good teacher. Before you I ain't know nuthin' of da world. I ain't never even left da South. Ya showed everythin' to me. I owe ya da world."

That very reverence so hardly left his voice. His gaze resting upon her still with that same all-consuming awe and adoration it had that very night. The reach of her hand was wholly welcome, that touch agianst his face far more gentle then he had come to anticipate before her hand trailed downward to grip at his throat. Darcy grunting softly at the suddenness of that embrace, her fingers firm and yet hardly crushing. Her lack of adornments sparing his neck the bite of that silver. The vampire hardly struggling agianst her hold. Darcy, as always, nothing short of accepting. That very memory of their first night together as memorable to Risque, it seemed, as it had been to himself. Darcy so relishing to hear her speak of it now. As if her memory of that night was further proof of her affection for him. That very hand at his throat so hardly seeming to dampen his adoration as she spoke of his lack of fear. Darcy, perhaps, one of precious few in this world whom had simply never feared her. That very...awe he felt for her was far, far to great. His want of her, his need, so overriding that need for self-preservation.

"I wasn't afraid of ya that night. I shoulda been. I wanted ya so badly I'd 'ave let ya kill me. Death never looked so good as it did on yar. Dat night was.....bloody good."

There was very near a pun uttered within those appreciative words. That sex by far some of the best, most animalistic, passionate sex he had ever had. Those very envenings Risque so allowed him to worship her body by far his most favoured. Her body his ultimate reward and favoured treat. His hand settled smoothly upon her waist then, his lips finding her own with that same hungered, urgent desire as they had that very night. Risque returning that kiss with much the same force- short-lived though that embrace was. She had never once uttered a word of why she had not ended him that night- even after that intimate embrace. Tonight, it would seem, that secret was destined to remain with her. Darcy stepping but slightly back from her then, his tongue brushing over his lips, relishing in that final taste of her that lingered there. That faint nuance of praise she uttered towards him prompting his own chuckle as he leant back agianst that railing.

"I 'ave ya to tank for dat as well. Ya wouldn't let me be anything but satisfying to ya."

Risque had been as firm as she was swift in so punishing him for failing to do things, anything, in the manner she desired it to be done. Darcy having learned quickly. His Mistress utterly loath to ever repeat a lesson. It had been...some time now since he had displeased her enough to truly prompt her irritation or any real punishment from her. That vampiric cowboy content to keep it that way. His mismatched gaze shifted back to that parking lot below then as those cats begun to move, clearing an empty space, those smaller ones disappearing into the darkness. The larger held in place by Risques will. Their conversation shifted to Harley and Tetradore. Darcy offered his very report on their newest feline acquisition. Harley not having proven a total failure even despite her ability to run her mouth. Stupid little dolt of a girl. Her affinity for metal, in the least, might yet prove applicable. Risque insisting it would do Harley good to be made to fight for them. Darcy offering that ready nod of agreement. There was nothing like a little 'blooding' to see the truth worth of an animal. Controlling those cats however, would always remain his Mistresses talent rather then his own. Darcy forced to result to those age old methods of breaking an animal in rather than that far less....violent affinity Risque wielded so easily. The Vampire Queen insisting tetradore was easy enough to control- once his heart was known. Darcy inclined to frown ever so slightly in contemplation.

"An what is 'is 'eart? Dat boy? Tobias? Is dat why yar never brought him back?"

Tobias was, after all, the single and only feline whom had, to Darcy's knowledge- escaped Syn and never been brought back. That spotted freak more trouble then he was worth as far as Darcy was concerned and yet he was curious of Risque's own motives in that. There would be purpose, he knew, to her allowing the boy to live freely outside of Syn. Risque did nothing without purpose. That near musing of Tetradore having 'help' so prompting his gaze to meet that hypnotic, exquisite blue of her own once more.

" 'elp? For Twenty years? Ain't nobody stupid enough for dat. Ain't no one whom could 'ide from us both for dat long either. We'd know 'bout it. Tet's got a 'ealer tucked away in dat Ark 'ough. Dat I know for sure. A powerful one too. I reckon it's a witch. He 'eals fast."

A healer, in the least, so hardly mattered in the end. Tetradore could heal his wounds all he liked. Risque's control hardly faltered. It was almost....pleasing to watch him heal only to break him apart all over again. Risque near echoed his own thoughts then as she spoke of those wounds. Darcy oblivious to how very much his own shrug so gave away in that moment of his efforts to dismiss Tetradore entirely. Their....rivalry hardly any sort of secret. Risques insistence tetradore had been made strong like darcy himself prompting that faintest twitch of his lip as if some part of himself so contemplated a snarl he had long since bitten back. It was his own mention of Harley and her brother that seemed to spark that renewed recognition in Risque herself. His Mistress so lamenting the habit of surviving that seemed to follow Harley's family. Risque, for now, seemingly content to allow the Hunter boy to continue to live. Darcy nodding obediently.

"Just say da word and I'll take care of 'im."

One little Hunter would hardly be difficult to exterminate. Those shadow weapons of his were in irritation and yet not terribly difficult to overcome . If Risque desired him dead then he would see to it. Harley, for now, of far more intrigue. His Mistress so offering that tale then that Harley had denied him. That full tale of Nathaniel and his depraved love of her that had seemed to spite him in the end. That Nathaniel, that anyone, could choose another over Risque was....impossible to believe. Darcy snorting with a clear and potent derision

"I will never understand dem who waste dere time lovin' mortals. Day will only grow old and die. Fucking useless. Yar brother was a damn fool ta love dat girl, ta turn from ya. 'Arley was just as much of a fool ta love 'him. It ook all night but I found what she fears. I bit 'er. She's damn afraid of dat. Tried to run. I knew den dat she'd bee bit before. Ya shoulda 'eard 'er little 'eart flutting like a bird. I won't forget what ya told me. Reckon I can use it agianst 'er. As for ya brother- family always fucking disappoints you in da end."

There was something almost...venomous in those words. That tone holding a particular bite. That near-sigh from Risque herself drawing his attention away from the derision he felt for blood-ties and back to his Mistress. That final utterance of praise upon his lips as he offered more wine. That very offering seeming to prompt the return of Risque's own apathy in turn as she insisted she was parched. Darcy pushed smoothly away from that railing then to cross back towards that small table and lounge where Princess had made herself comfortable once more. The lynx watching the vampiric pair with lazy contentment. Those near icy words so found him once more then, Darcy paused to turn back towards his lover. Her very 'request' so interlaced with an unspoken demand to see that fuller extent of his own powers. To unleash them in a way he so rarely did and she had not seen before. His tongue lifted to toy with his left fang in contemplation of those words. Risque so having thrown down that gauntlet as it were. To displease her would be.....unthinkable and yet his powers lacked that very...flare of her own. Those thoughts turned within his mind. Darcy so working to prevent but even a hint of that uncertainty to show upon his features as he poured that wine. The glass was plucked easily upward between his fingers, the man cross that rooftop to hand it to his lover then before casting his gaze back out across that parking lot. He had not....perfected his latest experiment and yet- he was nothing if not the gambler. He had fed well enough tonight. There was no reason he could not summon the power needed to try it...

"As yar wish, Darlin'."

She had cleared that space below. She expected something of him. Darcy nothing if not determined to meet that expectation. A singular burst of speed so readily saw the vampire vault up and onto the railing itself. Darcy content to balance there as he eyed the parking lot below for several long seconds. His mismatched gaze searching for just the right car to begin with. That very affinity to both command and create those vehicles hummed obediently at his fingertips. His right hand lifted then, waving towards the nearest of those black town cars, the squeak and groan of metal echoed across that parking lot as the car begun to unfold, taking itself apart. Darcy's attention shifted then to the left, his left hand waving in much the same fashion, another of those cars beginning to unfold in the same fashion. The vampires attention hardly deviated from those cars now. His focus upon them intent. A third car further down that lot beginning to take itself apart in the same manner, turning itself into no more then individual bolts and screws and metal and parts before Darcy brought his hands together. Each of those car parts racing toward that cleared centre space Risque had provided for him then. Those fractured cars beginning to assemble at his command, Darcy increasing his own power then and that hold over those individual parts. The vampire so forced to create several off his own pieces in turn to add to the metal mix as shadows begun to engulf that rapidly assembling entity. Several of those cats Risque had requested remain nearby had the audacity to hiss at that shadowy conocotion, Darcy content to ignore them for now, that vaguest hint of a simper tugging at his lip. The final pieces off his creation screwing themselves into place to complete what was nothing short of a work of mechanical art- and the very sort of engineering NASA itself would have craved to be capable off in only a manner of minutes.

Those swirling shadows fell abruptly away from that creation then to reveal a towering, gleaming, black and silver cat made entirely of metal and car parts. For several moments nothing within the parking lot seemed at all bold enough to move. Several of those real cats peeking up at the metal monstrosity with curiosity. One amongst them, a rather large tiger, at last brave enough to creep forward and toward it. Just as Darcy had so waited for. That giant metal cat's eyes so suddenly flared into life, crafted from headlights they shone like a spotlight upon that creeping tiger, the Were freezing in place before spitting that roar of fearful outrage at the metal monster. That Machine Cat lunged suddenly forward in turn, each one of its legs fluid and functional, its jaws parting to reveal those lines of ravaging teeth before releasing that near earth shattering roar so concocted of engine revs and squealing brakes. That sound alone near ear splitting as that tiger fled from before it. Seemingly satisfied with its work that Machine Cat easily turned away, its steel tail lashing behind it as it began to stalk through that parking lot and towards the base of Syn itself, the ground near shaking beneath its steps and yet they possessed that feline fluidity all the same. That creature leaned back upon its hind legs then, lifting itself abruptly upward to hook its front 'paws' onto the roof of Syn itself and hold itself upward, its head turning to look from Risque to Darcy and back again. Those headlight eyes dimming to a far more comfortable dull glow. The vampiric man stepping down from that railing then to reach one hand idly upward to stroke that Machine Cat's cheek as if it were a real cat.

"He ain't really alive, i'm commandin' 'im, so yar cant keep 'im but I reckon he ain't 'half bad."

The hiss of steel readily saw that creatures metal claws extend to better grip the building, its head turned more fully toward Risque as if to eye the vampiric woman more closely, that rumbling engine purr rising in its throat in clear satisfaction.

We are rough men and used to rough ways.