How precariously far that little shit of a panther pressed his patience. Darcy no sooner having shoved Tetradore away from him then the Were retaliated with his own goading words and a near beast-like growl that rose within the depths of his throat. The panther promising to bite his fucking head off the next time. That very threat prompting the vampire's gaze to narrow upon him once more with a near icy irritation. Both men momentarily locked within that battle of glares and low growls. That ever-present tension between them only continuing to mount until it filled the air with a near palpable feeling. Darcy, so steadily, with each passing year, becoming less and less tolerant of the younger man. Risque's command that he was forbidden to kill Tetradore all that truly saved the boy from meeting that demise at his hands. There would be nothing sweeter, nothing more perfect, then ending that panther once and for all. Darcy positively dreaming about the day. Tetradore the single and only threat for his beloved attention within all of Syn- and the only one to survive Darcy's culls of just such threats year after year. Protected by Risque herself. The very thought of tearing Tetradore's throat open lingered potently within the forefront of his mind, Darcy's tongue toying with his left fang in contemplation of just how good that heated blood would taste and how satisfying that death would be. That violent intent near glowing within the depths of his mismatched gaze as he hardly allowed his eyes to shift from Tetradore's own, the boy fucking bold enough to meet that challenge head on- that movement from Cobain all that distracted him then.

Darcy's gaze snapped abruptly sideways and toward that younger, lesser vampire then. Tetradore momentarily forgotten and awarded that brief reprieve as Risque and Darcy in turn focused their attention upon her misguided progeny. Cobain nothing but a disappointment in every respect. The boy squandering that privilege he so held of having been crafted by Risque herself. A gift Darcy would surely have killed for. A blessing the boy was too foolish to realise he possessed and how readily his scorn of it only further irritated the Southern Vampire. Darcy inclined to be intolerable of any being whom did not adore his mistress in that manner he was sure she deserved to be worshipped. How readily Risque seemed to attempt to torment her progeny, to coax that teenage vampire into lashing out and press upon his own patience. Yet- how dangerously her very attempts to do just that landed upon Darcy's own possessiveness of her. To display that territorialism so blatantly here and now, to declare her as his would only result in his own punishment and yet how darkly those beasts within snarled at the way she seated herself on that boys lap, in the way she attempted to dare him to touch her. As if he deserved that privilege! The very thought of Cobain's hands upon her near vile to his mind. Risque herself distinctly aware of her own actions- of the way it grated agianst him. How expertly she teased at those ever-delicate strings of his own control, as if daring him to attempt to forget his own place.

Darcy's own form shifted abruptly then, the tall, toned vampire moving to glide around and behind Cobain then. The unfortunate boy caught between himself and Risque as Darcy's fingers so expertly found each ridge and disc of Cobain's spine. That threat clear enough. Darcy aiming to trap Cobain between those words as well as he did their bodies and afford him a reason to crush that spine between his fingers like dust. Those Southern lyrics probing for an answer to Risques question then. How dare he leave his Mistress waiting for a response. Risque did not wait. Darcy more then content to enforce his beloved impatience for her. The fashion in which Cobain's hands came to rest on Risques shoulders prompted Darcy's own fingers to tighten on the younger man's spine in silent warning, those whispered words barely above a breath and yet Darcy's own sharp hearing readily captured them all the same. Whatever response those dispelasing words might have garnered however were cut short by Tetradore's own sudden interjection. The panther momentarily pulled from his wallowing in self-pity to snap towards Cobain with a distinctly sharp disdain and degree of apathy. Hmm. Tetradore had been fucking useful for once. Surprising. The Were correcting that child-like vampire. Tetradore's insistence that kissing Risque might had garnered a better response however readily saw his gaze cut sharply to the other man once more. That hiss rising in his throat. Darcy so barely managing to cover that sound lest Risque delight in it far to much.

Risque, it seemed, had tired of her progeny for tonight. That hellish Queen commenting that Tetradore played that game better. Darcy quick to prevent any look of irritability finding his own features at that very comment before Risque rose with fluid, perfect grace from Cobain's lap. Darcy in turn releasing his hold from the boys spine in followed obedience before Risque sent the boy to his room like the child he was. A short, sharp bark of laughter rose within his throat at seeing Cobain punished like he deserved and yet ...the boy was far too slow to do as his Mistress bid him. Darcy's own hand reached out once more, that strike near lightning fast as he aimed to grasp the boys ear between his fingers and haul him painfully onto his feet by that delicate appendage- before shoving him roughful in the direction of that bedroom.

"Do it fuckin' faster- an none of dis. Little boys who been grounded go ta bed wit no supper."

What remained of Cobain's blood-filled drink was easily slid out of his reach and toward Tetradore. Risques promise to make a man out of Cobain yet so readily seeing the vampiric woman's eyes met Darcy's own in that silent command. Darcy's own head dipped obediently then. The Southern vampire stepping away from that group into the crowd in search of Lorelai, the succubus woman deep in conversation with a group of several, college-aged boys. Each one of them readily infatuated with her and yet Darcy's presence alone was enough to bring her smoothly to his side as she momentarily excused herself from her victims. That tall, blonde, leggy young vampire woman flipping her hair as she strode toward him.

"Give Cobain some of yar.....attention tonight. He'll be in 'is room. Report ta Risque when yar dun, she wants da details, if dare are any ta give. Dun take it easy on 'im."

Whether or not even Lorelai could manage to seduce the surly teen remained to be seen and yet her affinities for that very thing surely gave her something of an advantage. The blonde vampire nodded readily. Lorelai nothing if reliable as Darcy dismissed her once more to make his way through the crowd and back to his Beloved and Tetradore. Another nod was afforded obediently to Risque to assure her that task had been seen too as she finished dealing with Cobain. Darcy returning to the WerePanthers side now as he leant forward and onto that polished bar surface. Tetradores earlier comment hardly forgotten. Darcy's own pent up irritation seeking that outlet- and how easy a target Teradore was. One hand reached smoothly forward, Darcy reaching out to allow a singular finger to trace around the rim of the glass of Tetradore's newly ordered drink. The vampire so hardly looking at the other man as those drawling lyrics fell from his lips.

"Ya know, back when I was a kid we kept 'untin' dogs. Coon'ounds. Me Pa had t'ree of dem. Day get big dem dogs and if ya ain't firm wit dem day start tinkin' day own da place. Me Pa, he used ta give dem a big bowl a food, he'd let dem start eatin' it, den he'd take it off dem. If day snapped at 'im day'd git a beatin' till day learned dare place."

Darcy's finger hooked easily within that mostly full glass, sliding it slowly but steadily away from Tetradore then, as if daring the other man to try and stop him from taking it with every slow inch until the glass rested before Darcy himself. The vampire gripped it easily then, lifting it to his own lips, savouring that sweet alcoholic taste as he glanced sideways and towards Tetradore once more.

"Das a good boy."

His free hand lifted easily then, Tetradore petted atop the head like the pet he was as the bartender glanced curiously between them both, Darcy offering a simple shake of his head.

"Dun give him anymore, he's had enough."

Why not take that alcohol from Tet? Why not make him sit there and suffer in sober silence for the rest of the night just because he could? Darcy affording Risque that look all the same if only to assure himself his Mistress was hardly about to stop him from baiting the panther a little for those earlier words he'd offered. Darcy wholly content to poke at the other man for his own depraved satisfaction.

We are rough men and used to rough ways.