stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

Harley listened intently to how those powers worked, it was alarming how his eyes seemed to possess that crimson sheen. Powers have always seemed to fascinate the woman, one in which she felt almost short changed of as a human. How weak she had felt when stacked against those fanged children of the night, she hated it. But being stripped from that choice of her own humanity and the thought of powers seemed terrifying as it did exciting. There was so much more to powers than met the eye.. It was more than mere parlour tricks and she knew she would one day have to truly face that reality and responsibility. She nodded her head after he finished speaking, at least it was good to know he wasn't turning murderous and he wasn't feeling pain. She could not help the wanderings of her curious mind, wondering how those visions felt. Did they feel like he was whisked away to another place, was it a mere thought, or did it feel like a dream? Now hardly seemed like the right time to ask those simmering thoughts.

Harley listened to his thoughtful opinion on the very question if they were ever truly free. Such things rolled within her head but rarely ever surfaced. The real question, however deeper than she intended. If the silvery eyed fae could see a future, did those choices he speak of mean so very little? Or were they already decided in the first place? Were they all simply playing a predetermined role like mere puppets? Surely there had to be some kind of purpose to this madness! Surely there had to be true choice, the opportunity to change what seemed to be so deeply etched in stone. Harley had to believe in that, had to believe that it mattered. For now, the comfort of her own choices, no matter how small had to amount to something, had to give her a glimmer of a semblance of control. A sliver of that much needed hope.

It was why she declared that she intended to take out as many of those baddies as that violet eyed woman could. That thought alone seemed to give her that spark in her eye, offering her that renewed footing. Finally, a plan, something that was tangible. That look of determination flaring wildly within her eyes in that moment. After all she had done that with Ryker's group, and she was only a human then. She had no help when she took out those vampires while they slept. Think of how much damage a creature with claws and murderous teeth could cause. That gaze then elevates to meet his own with that sheer defiance directed to the ones that so desperately wanted to possess her. Why the fuck were so many trying to stuff her into cages where they could control her? It was starting to piss her on a whole new level, surely this was merely a personal brand of hell created only for her. That very inner animal unwilling to accept that loss of control.

How she seemed so prepared for her to tell it was a bad idea, that she had a death wish. But those words never came, she could hardly hide that surprise when he in fact agreed with her. How ready was she to pelt him with that defiance and yet she hardly needed to. That compliment was also something she never expected. "Thanks, although I recommend you stay tuned. You haven't seen anything yet." Already her mind was working, like those well-oiled cogs that fuel a much larger machine. She just needed time, time to formulate a plan, time to pick her moment to strike like a bush viper in the grass. As brash as she was, as much as she was so good at those blazing guns of fury, she knew a losing battle when she saw it. This was so much bigger than just her but there would be a way, there always was. She could hardly help the way her hands wrapped tightly around the backrest of her chair, her knuckles turning bone white. She could feel it threatening to break beneath her grasp and she hardly wanted to buy new furniture again after that stunt Ryker had pulled so very long ago.

How easy it was to fall into that game of theirs, like a habit she couldn't shake, perhaps it was too early to be considered one and yet that's how it felt. Was she not the same person who declared that rules were made to be broken? How could one even make rules for a game that was hardly defined to begin with. Yet even with logic staring her in the face she pays it no mind, diving face first into everywhere and nowhere all at once. She hoped she never hit that ground that threatened below.

Yet that ground was coming sooner than she even realized at break neck speeds. All because that wildcat was so lulled into contentment upon Matteo's figure. That very feline within her could have easily gotten swept up with those tantalizing strokes to her exposed skin and softly spoken words. That very nuzzling kiss she stole upon his neck, tasting his very skin. How easily it would have been to steal more. But somehow, she was whisked away tumbling within her inner feline's wants. Relishing in his luxurious body heat. She seemed content to lay there entranced by his scent and soothing words and caresses. But it was all just a sneaky, carefully laid out trap and she had taken the bait. By then it was too late, he had uttered those words that caused a fierce blush to overtake her cheeks and her skin began to prickle all over like it were another entity. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she was actually embarrassed, in truth she could hardly recall it at all. It was that stupid word he used. Mate. So misunderstood and yet so blatant. That feeling was so uncomfortable she needed to eliminate those senses, she couldn't even look at his face right now, especially not those goddamn lips. Just a moment and she could regain that careful composure he had so lulled away. He was good.. Really good. But she needed to recuperate that steady ground if she had a hope in hell to play against a fae who was who had no problem spinning that game on its head.

Just to prove it to herself that she was stronger than her embarrassment she kissed the corner of his lips, blaming it on that potato. She hardly trusted herself should she actually kiss those now smiling lips. That smile was enough to cause ice to thaw, she could feel it. What if she just stole just one like he did that first day they met. She still remembered it, cursed him for it despite how hasty it was. A drink.. That was the cure she needed to control herself. To wake up her senses that betrayed her now. It was like trying to fight a magnet though. But Harley's resolve is stronger than steel as she turns on her heels, pulling her shirt firmly down as she slinked away like an irked cat toward where she kept the alcohol. A drink is exactly what she needed, hell it could possibly do them both some good. This game of their would just have wait.

Matteo then allowed those teasing words to reach for her from within the safety of her kitchen, but she could still obtain a clear view of his now seated figure, blissfully controlled. That smug little bugger she thought. She could still smell him from here, but what a difference a little space could offer. She could hardly stop that icicle glare shooting his way. "This is not what running looks like. This is what strutting my stuff into the kitchen and for a drink looks like. Miss me already?" That sardonic lilt returned to her voice, how quickly it snapped back into its rightful place. She bites at her lip as she as she quickly scanned those bottles on display before selecting one that seemed fitting, a bottle of spiced gin that she now held in one hand and two glasses in the other. This time the spitfire was completely prepared, as though her armour was firmly in its rightful place as it should be. She returned to that couch to sit beside him. See definitely not running she hmphed silently to herself. Tilting her head in that defiant expression that was easy enough to miss. She was about mid word in before her sharpened gaze caught the photographs as that word all but died upon her lips. How did he know them? Of course, he did not elaborate too much just explaining how he had followed them for a long time.

"Well, never have I ever thought I could see the asshole brigade all at once on my coffee table." That snide mockery of the sheer evil that lingered there and still she jests. They might as well be labelled, queen of the assholery brigade, Risque. Then following Risque it would be as follows Asshole 1, Asshole 2 and so forth. How she examines those photos, committing those suspended faces to memory as much as she possibly could, leaning forward on her knees that she nearly falls off that couch. There were so many faces she had not met yet, that was until she ended up at the last photo. That bitterness could hardly be concealed, that sheer cloak of indifference covered her, snapping herself back into a coiled, cornered wild cat. He looked like an even bigger douche in this photo, if that were possible. The very death of innocence, she could see it in his vile blue eyes. But that recognition dredged up ugly pitiful memories and it muddied her waters. He was the reason for all of this. She was convinced, even as she explained her colorful commentary of the faces she recognized.

It was then that Matteo asks if she could keep a secret, she soothed her internal anguish as she turns to face him upon that couch. It was then that spitfire offers him that pinky swear, to solidify that promise that his secret was safe with her. But first she had a burning question from that first day they had. She chortled at that definition revealed to her in that moment. "Of course that is what it means.." She wrinkled her nose in disdain, how such simple words had sent her mind wild on a goose chase she could hardly win. "and I thought I was the smart ass." That distracting laughter, rich and antagonizing escaped him then. He had to be aware of this laugh of his and how it flooded that entire room with him. Surely, he had to know and he still continued to do so on purpose.

They had a pact to make, and with his aid came with keeping him a secret. Which undoubtedly meant keeping him a concealed from the two of her closest friends. How this was exactly the kind of story she would tell them, but it was something she could accept it. She lowered her pinky again definitively, and in that moment she had never seen the man so boyish. How that look was worth seeing if only to commit it to memory. It was so difficult to believe he was as old as he had claimed to be.

In this very moment they both could be two carefree people, willing to shirk off the world and responsibility, even if only for a moment to link their pinkies in some sacred bond. Even while the pictures of their enemies stared up at them upon her coffee table, like a looming threat. Their pinkies linked in that solitary vow and her vibrant eyes met his own and she uttered that last condition. It was one she could live with if shit were to hit the fan and all was going to hell in a handbasket. At least he could take his kidlets and go somewhere far away from this rotten hellhole.

She bobbed her head in a singular nod in response to his words that he would try. "That is all I want to hear." She said unwavering despite that sad smile that brushed across his lips and those creeping thoughts encroached her own mind. Simultaneously, they pulled their hands away gently. Shit got heavy quickly and she cleared her throat trying to shake herself of that nagging feeling, remembering those drinks. Just that distraction she needed. She generously added that drink to those waiting glasses. Soon after, that clink of those glasses seemed to further solidify that promise of secrecy. She downed that spiced beverage. It tasted like Christmas exploded in her mouth with that iconic alcohol sharpness, not exactly what she had expected but it wasn't that bad. Maybe it was her sensitive taste buds. "Your tequila was better." She admitted, whatever, it was better than water. She had honestly only picked it because of the name and how it reminded her of the fae. She relished in that heat that alcohol that warmed her chest, even if it were only temporary.

He began to explain the 'why' that was burning a hole the size of Texas within her mind. She could handle Risque.. she was nothing more than a bully who feeds off others pain and suffering, her motives, at least to her seemed pretty straight forward despite being one of the most brutal creatures to walk this earth. But at the very least Harley knew that if she really wanted her dead she would be already.

But it was what he said at the end that caused a frown to bloom, marring her features. She wasn't going to let this slip through the cracks. "What do you mean, you need to atone? What did you do?" She questioned softly.. Her mind then went to the nagging realization what she was then and that fire coiled within fiercely like a snarling creature. " I am not a goddamn pity project." She nearly growled. At least it was out in the open and just why it bothered her so damn much was only caused from a past of bullshit phonies offering their pity. She didn't need it, didn't need them. It was exactly why she hadn't told anyone her full fucked up story in all its glory. "You must have done something really fucked if you feel guilty enough to help a pity case." She nearly laughed bitterly but it was far from happy. She didn't care how many people thought her life was sad, she didn't care how dire it truly was. The worst thing someone could offer someone like Harley their damn pity. How many fucking people had looked at her like the poor girl who walked in on her dead parents mangled bodies.. How many people saw her like a fucking victim. She was not, and she refused to think so. She would rather let her own life fall apart than stomach that again. She would have much rather he take a shot at her like so many others before him.

She followed his hand that suddenly went to reach for a crucifix around his neck, she had not seen him fiddle before. Something bad must have plagued his mind. He hardly seemed the religious type and yet she wasn't one to care what one were to belive. Harley was by no means religious. But the thought of there being some kind of afterlife seemed soothing, even if it was a pretty little lie to tell herself. At least the demons couldn't break down her door then. Look who got the last laugh then blood sucker. "I've nearly died more times than I would like to admit.. I don't think there is anyone there keeping score." She muttered with an idle shrug. There was no pearly gates or hellish inferno waiting down that inky black tunnel she saw when she was so close to death. All it was a cold empty channel that led to nowhere. Believe me, she looked. The only light was where the living was.

It was then as he turned back to those photos, she felt so very awake like someone had rattled her very cage. She was not going to turn down that intel. "Risque really likes her men. Maybe its not a coven at all but a harem." It was no surprise that the vampire woman was kinky, she had a wall of chains and binds in her office, she doubted it was only for torture. Harley had eyes, she saw how she dressed like a dominatrix. It was obvious Harley wasn't her type. So why bother with her at all? Why not go for someone like Matteo instead?

"So your telling me.. the ones I need to look out for the most other than Risque.. is puppy lover and dead eyes over here."She pointed to Tetradore and Darcy as she directed that hate toward something more lasting.

She frowns in thought, wondering if maybe she could just fly underneath that radar again. She hadn't seen or heard from Tetradore since that night. She wasn't complaining either. "Do you think.. maybe she will just let me be? It was personal before... and now that I am Catwoman ..." That felt so weird coming out of her mouth but she continued soon after. "Nathaniel wont step foot near me again. That's what this is about, right?" It had to be. She asked him like he had all the answers, but she hardly expected them all the same as some of her own inner musings escaped her then. Although she could hardly handle the way she mocked that very name. What a nasally sounding name.

But now that they were on names.. What kind of name was Darcy Blackjack? Then again what the hell kind of name was Risque? It was like a glorified stripper name. "Let me guess the man likes playing 21. They probably think they are so creative with their names too." She rolled her eyes dramatically, that cynical demeanor not failing her again. That's all they needed more themed vampires running around terrorizing the city. But she stops any further comments from leaving her ready to fire mouth. She needed this intel, it was better than not knowing. She would much rather be prepared than be caught off guard. What did he mean the way he talks? Did he have an impediment? Maybe he had tourettes syndrome? Or maybe he had a high pitched voice that made him sound like a giddy woman. She nearly laughed. Regardless, he must have had a few screws loose if he chose to be around Risque for that long. She supposed there was someone out there for everyone.

Once he was finished his explanation she opened her mouth again, this time to talk about Darcy. "Hot heads are my specialty, you should know. They are the easiest to provoke. Judging from what you told me.. it is obvious he has a weakness... His weakness is the kitten queen herself. There has to be a reason why he has survived so long. Do you think he is her weakness too?" Was it too ridiculous a thought to wonder if Risque had a weakness of her own.

"Ok, show me this effective weapon of yours, anything is better than butter at this point." She could hardly help that mischievous gleam, a smile that mirrored that look tugging across her lips any earlier frustrations lifting away.

But what he had summoned she was not prepared for. That solid gasp escaped her suddenly when an impressive machine gun appeared within his hands, that mat black gun made her eyes grow wide in undiluted surprise and excitement. She was certain that she would not get used to this power of his, it worked with guns, alcohol and who knows what other goodies could be summoned. She ogled the flame insignia while she imagined herself firing it into her enemies. The firearm was almost as big as her, could she even shoot the damn thing? She could hardly help that gaping expression that so resolutely took over her face. Was she just going to storm Syn with this thing? Hell yeah! She could make this work. She could Rambo the damn place.

"Now you are talking!" She could hardly contain that excitement as she beamed. With this thing she was quite certain she could be invincible. "This weapon would be effective against everyone in that place.." She was about to ask him to give it to her just so she could get her little paws on that powerful weapon. There was no way he was going to get this back if she got her hands on it. That was when it disappeared and a laughter escapes him. NO! not the pretty gun, she didn't even get to touch it yet. She slaps him on his arm, frowning at him. "You're such a damn tease, Matteo. Its only dangerous if its loaded." Oh how she nearly pouted right then, wearing her disappointment.

That was then he summons a singular pair of sunglasses and she could hardly help the incredulous look that blossomed there. What a blazing contrast from that impressive firepower. Surely he was joking.. Right? She was stunned into silence, no hope to recover. How the hell were sunglasses going to help her in the fight of her life? Yeah, she got it, it protected him from this gaze of his but let's be real. How the hell were sunglasses a weapon? They were really cool looking, sleek with feline embellishments on the side, they were unlike any pair she possessed. With a pointed look she then reaches out to pluck the glasses from his hand, putting them on.

"Oh yeah.. I am totally undefeatable now. Look out world. What am I supposed to do, throw them at him? I think they would break if I tried to stab him with them.. Plus they are too pretty to break." She ran a hand through her long silken raven locks, trying to make sense of this. Maybe he was going to pull out the real weapon.... Any second.... Minute? Hour? Wait for it.... Nope. Hot steaming pile of nada.

"What do you think? Ferocious, right?" She could hardly stop that wry smirk upon her face, striking a pose twisting her body so she could look over her shoulder. "Maybe they will be too distracted by their own reflections in my eyes that they won't even see me coming."

"So is that a solid no on the machine gun?" One problem she didn't have the faintest idea how to shoot the thing. She just had a tiny hand-held pistol that her brother procured for her. Like a pistol would do any good against a vampire. But it was still better than nothing. "Maybe we need to see how effective it is.. you know for science.. for incase the sexy glasses don't work."

If this was the weapon, he had offered her, she was SO screwed. But at least she would be fashionable.

Harley Westward