stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

This night had come far too soon, but she knew it was coming. She was hardly pleased to get that impromptu summoning; this certainly wouldn't get any easier Harley was damn sure. This time it came in a form of a text.. that demand to get her ass to Syn was felt with the amount of dread one would expect when met with revulsion. It said nothing about time, so she took it. Jacketless the woman remained this time, settling for a simple hoodie and jeans. If she kept destroying jackets, this would get too damn expensive. How she missed that jacket, yet another casualty of the war for her life. She suspected it wouldn't be the only thing ruined. By the time she made it to the familiar club, Randall has been waiting for her... impatiently, unafraid to chastise her like she cared. Perhaps she should have and yet, they could hardly punish her for something they hardly specified, after all, the devil was in the details was it not? Harley had quite a bit to say to Randall, know very well that he was far too fearful for the potential wrath of Darcy.. Yet, the woman still earned herself a rather abrupt shove through that nightclub, herding her toward the back. "Easy on the merchandise." She cautioned accompanied with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders as if trying to rid herself of the feeling of that vampires hands gripping her shoulders roughly.

It unfortunately took very little time before she ended up before that dreaded door of Darcy's room, the shadow of hers and Randall's darkened that very door. How odd... that he would use this room when he clearly shacked up with queen of hell herself. Perhaps there was some trouble in paradise, the mere thought that perhaps she had caused that.... It probably amused her more than it should of as it brought a little wicked grin to her lips. Only momentarily as Randall knocked upon that door with that same ounce of hesitation before. They were met with an ill-tempered 'what' from the other side of the door. Someone was in a pissy mood. How quickly that was to fade when she was all but tossed into Darcy's room, Randall abandoning her to deal with Darcy on her own. The coward. The raven-haired woman was so quick catching her stumbling feet before the door was abruptly sealed behind her. "Fuck you too Randydolphin." She grumbled hopefully loud enough for the bouncer to hear.

It didn't take long for Harely to scan that room with narrowed assessing vibrant eyes. It was just like she remembered it last time, even she could feel that apprehension gripping her resolutely then. The sight of Darcy was not a welcomed sight and the glint of those fangs instantly sent that nervous trill through her nervous system. Seeing him again, let alone trapped in a room with him was far too soon.. and instinctually she wanted to cover up the slender slope of her neck. In a moment, she stood a little straighter refusing to look like a snack, giving the illusion of being the image of calm, that vague mask of don't-fuck-with-me plastered with resolve upon her features all the same. If only she could find a way to slow her defiant heart. Her gaze soon slid toward the lynx perched quaintly upon that bed, Harley not minding the little brat cat at all. She even nodded a brief at the other feline, whose wild eyes seemed content enough to watchfully observe her from what might as well been her throne.

Darcy seemed content enough to stare in deep thought at his screen all whilst ignoring her. Fine by her, but even she was not foolish enough to know that it wouldn't stay that way for long. Sure enough, that impatient voice reached out toward her, his gaze still fixed upon the laptop. He appeared so painfully normal in those moments and yet again, she knew better, knowing that false veneer would soon come crumbling down. She glanced to that uncomfortable sad little plain chair which stood in the corner of that room close enough to her. "Nah, that chair looks about as comfortable as walking with a blister.." She leaned against that wall instead, arms folded across her chest, not willing to budge and be that obedient pet he expected of her. He wouldn't force her into that chair would he? She suspected it would hardly be worth that plight.

That realization that she had left her shades sitting on her kitchen table right next General Basil, almost had her cursing. They had no use sitting upon the countertop next to that gifted magical iridescent plant. A frown embedded upon her brow as that realization sunk in.. on second thought.. maybe.. don't piss off the vampire just yet. There was still plenty of time for that. How the hell was she going to survive this? Placing these two in one room was a recipe for disaster. She bit her tongue hard enough to feel it, knowing the antagonistic words that would have flowed if she allowed it.

Darcy soon shifted and that subtle movement was enough to cause her to still, that strong heartbeat to leap within her chest for but a moment. She was sure he could sense it, hear its betraying fluttering within the confines of her chest, that adrenaline pushing through her veins only serving to strengthen her own resolve.

That was until that asshole slapped his hands far too quickly like a thunderclap causing her to jump, her skin crawled like fire ants marched on her flesh. Fear, it welled up from her like an open wound and there was little she could do to stop it besides lash out with her razor tongue. "What crawled up your ass and died?" She snapped, it would appear that fight within her had not yet died. How her very muscles seemed to grow taut as if she expected the vampire to cross that distance. That goading comment soon followed as that bastard chuckled. There was nothing kind in that sound, which only caused the woman's lip to curl instinctually, that inner feline quite clear in her opinion of the vampire that thought himself a master over her. Wasn't he? Maybe.. to a certain extent and yet it didn't mean she had to be a perfect pupil. Harley willed herself to find a semblance of calm, drawing in a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Darcy's lingering stare meant only one thing. He expected something of her.

When he was finally finished tormenting her in his own way, he raised his hand to gesture toward his screen soon followed by that explanation. For a moment, she could hardly make out that blur upon the screen, she reluctantly drew closer and yet somehow managed to keep a healthy distance away from that seemingly relaxed form. You know those signs that keep hands and feet in the vehicle at all times, this surely applied here. She heard that botched rendition of her name and she rolled her eyes in retaliation. That was until the realization of that image and his explanation almost brought a blatant smile to her lips. Looking at the screen, she was seeing herself... thankfully her shoes were concealed in that very image and surely he would not think to compare shoes. Fortunately, she wasn't wearing them tonight. She peered at that screen ideal as if truly assessing that image but truly, she was trying her damn hardest not smile. She had to admit, that Matteo and her looked pretty damn good in those jackets. It was a shame she could never wear hers again. How she remembered that night with such fond vivid clarity. It took every ounce of sanity to keep that unimpressed expression. His threat had fallen upon deaf ears with her amusement so entirely seizing her then. "That looks like someone got the one up on you. I heard what happened... I don't know shit beyond that, don't you remember? You left me in no condition to give a shit about your little breach." She pointed out all whilst in her mind she thought of Matteo and how she practically danced about Risque and Darcy's private quarters..

"Why don't you tell me what happened? You were there, not me.. I did hear that Risque has one hell of a throwing arm though." She shook her head concealing that blooming laughter that hung dangerously within her throat. She cleared it, drawing in a breath. She gestured toward that illuminated screen with an idle hand.

"My suggestion.. is you start looking at that long list of enemies both you and Risque racked up like trading cards.. and start going down the list.. but judging by those jackets... I think its safe start with.. Blue Moon. But you already knew that. So why am I here?" Somebody better give her an Oscar, that had to be the best damn performance of her life. That sardonic smile still lingered upon her lips as she brazenly looked toward him, while he scared her... she had survived him and she knew she could do it again. It was solid advice... considering she was leading him in the wrong direction. This was why they paid her the big bucks.

Harley Westward