harley westward

Here we are in the heart of the darkness

Of all the things that she had imagined could have happened in that cage, which despite reality had felt like it was ever shrinking by each tick of every second, none of it transpired. Not even the worst-case scenarios or even the cathartic ones. Beyond the few words that were tossed back and forth like stones, now lay anticlimactically between them in a lifeless pile. Which was decidedly baffling to Harley considering their rocky history. The moppy haired man who had turned her into what he was, simply took to sleeping, successfully tuning her out like she wasn't worth his time. Like she was nothing. She was certain that it was abnormal to be so unaffected. Those memorable emerald eyes, concealed behind heavy lids and dark lashes. At least she was void of the hard cruel, stone look of them as he eyed her with his obnoxious disapproval.

It was all kinds of odd to be able to take a cat nap, in unforgiving hell like this one. How one can even steal a moment of it as the random vampire milled about, signaling danger or the other restless felines that were locked up in cages. The haunting sound of feline crying in the distant far end. What were they in for? She couldn't help but wonder how long it took before they turned despondent and hopeless. Some of them simply stared off into space, unseeing, like they weren't even aware what was occurring around them. Others seemed oddly calm as if waiting for who the hell knew what. It only made her more pissed off, all of them. Harley hated this place and perhaps even more, hated those cages. It dredged up far too many memories. She supposed that this particular punishment could be worse. She knew it. It always could. But tell that to her inner feline who all but busted down the walls of her human form like the fucking goddamn Koolaid man. They were supposed to work together here, human and animal. That shift, even amidst the struggle seemed to turn off a light switch of the anxious tornado that ripped through her chest. As if that feline was merely content to simply get its way, the only payment she received for shifting before she could peel those clothes from her. At least those pants could be salvaged, same with her boots... and the leather jacket she slipped off before she felt like she was ripped inside out. The shirt and bra were ripped to ruin though, another inconsequential casualty to add to Syn's painfully high death toll. At least she wouldn't have to make it home butt ass naked or in feline form.

Fortunately... Tetradore continued to appear deader than a doornail, his breathing even, his body still, appearing peaceful like an exhausted baby. It was a damn lucky thing that he didn't catch her in that state. Or perhaps prevented it entirely as he had once ripped out her inner animal from her. Yeah right, good one. It was good thing that she expected nothing from the self-proclaimed king.

At least her head was clearer. Even at the cost of having to contort into all kinds of odd angles that practically made her feel like a certified contortionist just to remove those clothes without... hands. It was harder than it looked. Let alone doing it delicately enough without ruining the clothes she did have left.

After the excitement of getting undressed.. there was little else to keep the were-cat occupied. Eventually, she flopped to her side, her sleek feline body making a half moon shape to avoid crossing that line she had made within that cage. Not even allowing the barest of hairs to cross it, in spite of that agitated tail that flicked in some sign of discontent. The feminine feline unable to truly settle with the noises of distant clanking and bestial groans. Her purple gaze, that appeared far more vibrant against the darkness of her fur as she eyed the vampire that walked by their cage. That fanged bastard was far from silent, not that he tried with those all too loud and taunting keys he flicked around his finger at the ring that bound them together. She wished he would stick a hand in her cage, just once... this girl had no problem biting a hand when it ended up where it didn't belong... well so long as she was smart about it. She had to like her odds first. Did anyone really ever win against a vampire?

A gush of humid air expelled from her in what was the feline equivalent of a sigh after the vamp vacated that room.

This was boring. How many mind-numbing hours ticked by now? How many times had she flinched at a sound in her hyper-vigilant state? Far too many times that she would like to admit.

How could anyone find peace in this hell?

But that wasn't to say she didn't take that opportunity to stare at him, to study his slack features. He'd nearly killed her when she was human, tied to that chair as he carved her up like a goddamn Jack-o-lantern. Only to do it all over again... only that time he stole something beyond her flesh. He made her into what he was, taking what could never be whole again.. her humanity. Her right to choose, if it even worked that way. Even though Risque was the one to give the order, he was the one to act it out without even a little care. At the very least, she didn't miss those old scars that reminded her of his too-sharp claws and how effective they were to flesh. That short feline muzzle wrinkled into a silent snarl. Not foolish enough to earn herself unwanted attention in the form of a challenge she would not win. At least her once metaphorical claws were made into real ones, they hit harder. As if it could acknowledge her thought, those claws unsheathed, scraping against the cold, hard metal beneath her. Those claws were certainly not the worst thing to have in a dog-eat-dog world. Was it weird to use canine analogies now?

The thought caused her attention to drift to the other felines. No one responded back. Nothing but radio silence in the were-to-were communication department, with the exception to one despondent grumble. She had nothing to pass the time beyond groom herself, which as instinctual as it was supposed to be... was awful. How did cats do this all day?

Confinement didn't agree with her.

Relief, if you could call it that, only came in the form when it was time to be let out. Finally. She was starving, thirsty, and in desperate need for a shower, even if only to try and scrub the smell of that hell from her pores. Syn and all its soul-sucking attempts had failed... even though her spirits felt like they had been dragged through the muck and every stupid rock that jutted out of it. That cage did shit to her mind. Secretly, maybe Syn didn't completely fail after all. Tetradore wordlessly teleported away as soon as left the effects from the spell that made their powers impossible as Harley took the old fashion way.

Every time she was able to leave Syn was one more day she could keep a foot out of a grave and that should be good enough for her. It had to be, at least for the time being.