harley westward

Here we are in the heart of the darkness

To describe Tetradore and Harley's relationship in its current state was like to call him the oil to her water. It made being stuffed in a cage with him almost insufferable, which she was certain he could claim too. Her own storm of opinions accompanied by a far too reckless tongue certainly didn't help. The pair forced to be bound to one another in what could only be described as some sick and twisted joke provided by vampires that possessed far too much power over them.

She could live with being furry. She had already found ways to manage. But being attached to him, a man that would so easily serve them her corpse without a bat of an eye was understandably unsettling. That truth alone, was all she needed to know. She was on her own in this cage.

There was no life outside of this place was there? Yet somehow, Tetradore had managed. He made himself a pack who needed him and yet she found it interesting how he kept his secrets from them. What kind of life was that? Being the vicious king of lies and all they could see was an elusive alpha to look up to. Yet that was hardly her business. That was hardly what she disliked him for. Her business was there, in that cage, forgotten within the underbelly of Syn.

Yet, all the while he seemed perfectly unbothered, as if he could imagine her existence away with the willpower of his mind without Risque's influence. If only she could simply let sleeping cats lie. In fact, she had no one else to blame for making that shitty situation worse.

But her current rage was the perfect disguise for fear. Yes, part of her deep down rightfully feared him and that cage.. Yet she hardly acted like a woman afraid and yet all it did was earn her that battle of the drawing shift that threatened to take her. One would think that the deafening silence would be enough to help her finally get a grip and yet the stress that clung to her did her no favours.

Her thoughts were pressed further into the deepest recesses of her mind as the fever continued to swelter and rise like she might catch fire... her slender arms crossed tightly across her torso as if to clutch and keep what was within still inside of her. There was nothing that could be done except to try and soothe the crazy beast. But those zen breaths only sounded strained, even to her own ears. Ugh. She was reduced to trying to talk to it, coerce it to take a chill pill.. and when did that ever work for anyone? It was like telling a person that had finally snapped to calm down... or to kick a person when they are down. Yet, go figure that it was she who lost control. Even though the added pressure of Tetradore's presence was dialed way down, it did little to truly stop the vicious creature he created who wanted out. Talk about shit timing.

There was a moment, a fleeting glimmer of hope where she thought she might have actually won that raging battle within. Might have actually tamed that animal inside of her.

An odd gift of reprieve appeared to her suddenly. Who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth? It was like everything felt clearer.. like storm clouds began to dissipate. Her defiance and inner fortitude had seemingly paid off. Or maybe it was the internal begging? Rolling her shoulders in an attempt to remove the final ounce of coiled tension she felt it. Something didn't feel quite right. Why were her fingers still fisted at her sides, as if she was about to go to war with them?

Those vivid purple eyes lowered to look at her balled fists with a frown that had all but solidified upon her features. That was before she burst. Like a damn inside of her broke, letting hell to break out that possessed a beast that sliced through her so viciously that it stole her breath from her lungs and nearly dropped her to her knees.

There was no fighting it anymore.

'Fuck' she hissed that one final word... It might as well have been a plea for herself when the following spasm finally, despite her best efforts to fight it, brought her down like a wounded animal. She landed upon on all fours pained but softly, like she was in some dramatic but tragic war movie where everything else was but muted background noise. Yet nothing about it was so glorifying.

Her teeth gritted and ground near painfully against one another in a strained grimace, refusing to make a sound. Her jeans began to feel tight before her button pinged against the floor outside the cage as it broke free in more ways than one. Harley's petite, slender body was beginning to break and rebuild once more. The only saving grace was that the change wasn't so bad anymore, beyond that initial burst of pain that made her see stars even behind her tightly snapped shut eyelids.

Small victories.

Yet she still lost the battle against her own body for control as the raven-haired woman contorted and closed in on herself until she finally burst free from her human skin like her feline burst out of a cage. There was nothing left that resembled her human self any longer with the exception of those brilliant purple eyes and some of the clothes that remained restrictively upon her form. That was why Tetradore had ripped them from her body that first night she shifted. It all became clear not that she could focus on it.

Very little trace of what she was remained beyond those clothes as her body was replaced with sleek black, velvet fur that gleamed radiantly, even in the dim light. That beautiful, soft fur draped over newly shaped bone, sinew, and muscle. Concealing all that she once was and replaced it with the wildcat.

Then there was another roll of chaos that brought a small feline whine from her lips as if chastising herself for fighting... Then, just like that. It was done.

Surprisingly, what followed was an eerie calm. A clarity that she had lacked before.

It was oddly gentle, like a lulling momentary comfort descended upon her. Like her animal soul and her finally merged and found peace with one another for at least a moment. It felt natural somehow. Yet, there was something nagging at the back of her mind. Just as strange as the boots that didn't quite fall off her large back paws.. The fabric of her shirt ripped to ruin during the shift and fell in shredded tatters onto the cold metal floor. She tried to kick off one of the boots with an irritated flick of her hind limb. Those pants already forced down.. but she was caught in a tangle of those damn boots and her jeans.

Well shit. Awkwardly, she attempted to brush against the bars to remove them, with a valiant attempt not to make a sound. The last thing in this world that she wanted was Tetradore opening his eyes to see her in such a miserable.. ridiculous state. It would give him far too much satisfaction.

Harley's feline paws felt uncomfortably squished in those boots and they refused to budge. Fucking hell. There were very few things that could make this worse.

The ensnared feline, extending out a hind leg before she attempted to kick and jerk a boot free again with limited space and those pants restricting her. Luckily, she managed to succeed with one... But the fall of it made a hollow clunk against the metal floor that cause the feline to freeze. Those vivacious purple eyes slid back to Tetradore for a movement, hoping his sleep was deeper than his breathing was alluding to. All she needed was to shake the last jammed boot and remove those cursed pants free. Easier said than done.

Well, this was awkward and yet fortunately no one seemed to be aware of her blunder.. each animal far too focused on their own predicament, most returning to sleep as their only escape from this hellhole.

Harley flumped down, almost completely on her side, curling her body around to snatch that boot with a parted maw, her teeth delicately clamped as gently as possible to tug the final boot free with newfound irritation that was finally not directed at Tetradore himself or the cage that contained them. All, she had to do was remove those skinny jeans from her feline figure and she was in the clear.

Why did Hollywood make shifting seem so effortless? Just bust through clothing, or cut to another shot, or magically have those clothes disappear only to return when needed. Bullshit. Real life was never so flawless or accommodating, or magical.

Go figure. She had been through enough of these shifts to understand the simple need to nudity and yet this was first time she was forced to face why.