stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

How quickly she was to seize on those very words as that realization very near struck her, he pitied her, she could feel it. It made so much sense and there were too many overwhelming issues to dissect in that very moment. What could that very fae have done to feel compelled to atone for his sins? Surely it couldn't have been all that bad, people did have a tendency to take the blame of others onto themselves. The man was a little mischievous, sure, but he hardly seems blatantly evil. She knew the chilling eyes evil, saw it at its very worst. Could Matteo truly fit within those confines. Yes, everyone was capable of doing bad things, but it didn't have to define them. She could stomach the worst parts of the world, could understand that darkness that could corrode the soul. But what she could not was that very paradigm of pity. It would explain so much and yet she could barely stomach it. That was a direct assault that had Harley at the very ready her body thrumming with such chaotic static. It didn't help that when she called him out on that very thing, he simply watches her with that goddamn smile on his face. She could feel that feline within her rise to the onslaught of emotions that clung to the raven-haired wildcat then.

She knew she could take on the world herself, she wasn't fearful of it to go it alone. In truth, it might have been better that way. But for just how long had she isolated herself? Just how long could she continue to do so? His words flowed so easily from him, her jaw set in that utter unyielding fortitude she was so capable of possessing. How she had relied on that time and time again. She was a creature who had turned her very emotions into the weapons and armor she wields. The dark haired fae then admits he had done something very bad, but he does not elaborate on it. What the hell did that even mean? Everyone did bad shit, every day. Along with that static that floods her then, there lay a burning curiosity to know more. What she would have done to find out the story behind the words he wasn't saying.

How he hones in on that very pity she called him out on, and he seems to try and placate that sensation that assaults her, claiming it wasn't for pity he chose to help her. She wanted to irrationally call bullshit then, to pick it all apart. Instead, the raven-haired spitfire listens to him. She afforded her flame filled gaze to fall toward the enemies that stared, unseeingly upon the table. Within photographs they all seemed far more manageable. They were not real at all and yet they were. But this way, she could imagine how she could defeat them. Then that gaze shifted to Isolt and she could hardly help that gut-wrenching sadness that struck her more than the thought that the dark haired fae pitied her. Isolt was wrapped up in this too, that mother fucking cat psycho bitch killed her best friend and she wasn't even here to stop it. She could hardly help that exasperated sigh that escapes her.

Matteo's words unintentionally bit through her reverie within her mind. Empathy was full of shit too, she thought, she didn't need anything. There were so many useless emotions the world could have done without. But truly she was merely being petty. But it still didn't make the sting any less prominent, she would have much rather be forever damned than pitied. It was like she was listening, but she wasn't really listening, her mind like the inside of a tornado. She hardly saw his hand reach for her chin, the comforting caress was almost startling, that blaring white noise severed so suddenly as he urges to meet her eyes, his silvery irises not shying away from the fiery violet pits of her own.

"As for your version empathy.. I suppose I can eventually wrap my head around it. But don't you dare for a second pity me... Okay? I can't handle that shit." Especially when it came to the battle that was to come, she needed to be the strongest she had ever been. There was no room for weakness or doubt. It all had to die. She wasn't sure who she could need to become in order to survive, all she knew was that she would do what was necessary, but there was no delusions that it would be easy dirt road to travel down.

"Look.. We have all done bad things.. we are all capable of them. Sometimes we need to do what we do in order to survive.. in order to face our own reflection each stupid day. Whatever you feel the need to atone for can't be as bad as the people that feed off torment and despair. I don't know what you had to go through to be here today.. But for whatever fucked up reason, I am glad you did." There was a firm nod to her head then.

After a short pause, she hardly fights his gaze, she wasn't one to veer away from much in this world. "I want to hear your story one day." She considers those words then. It didn't have to be now, it was quite clear he only shared what he wanted and in many ways it was the same for her. Hell, she didn't know if there would be a one day but she uttered the words all the same. For all she knew he could disappear into the night without a trace and that was it. He owed her nothing except a promise to survive.

His hand lifts away and her head remains there for a time, the movement of his hand toying with the cross around her neck made her curious. He did not fiddle, she hardly knew him well enough to truly pick apart all those habits but from what she did know, this was not his normal. Not even when she tattooed him that day, his hands were always so controlled and poised and yet now.. it seemed an all too nervous human gesture. She allowed her words to reach out to him, they were softer now, that static had settled within her, no longer holding that conviction as they possessed before.

It was like turning on a light switch as his classical impish mask returns as fast as it left, it was almost shocking. It would seem they both had their masks and she caught a glimpse if only for a second behind it. If she didn't see it with her own eyes she wouldn't have believed it. "I do not know what the fuck karma or fate is waiting for, there will be none of us left. But okay, show me what you have." She lets her gaze, and head shift to turn to where he gestured, the very intel he was about to give her was all too painfully real. She could feel the weight of it like an anvil upon her chest.

She made an idle comment about all the men in her little harem, that very gest seemed amusing. Viewing that dismal scenario with some humour hardly seemed like the worst thing in the world. "I don't even want to imagine what a relationship with Risque even looks like.. She has more than a few missing pieces upstairs.." Her features pulled into a frown, the corner of her lips curling downwards in an almost comical realization. But it was still enough to make her shudder. She knew how insanely jealous she was even over her brother's infatuation with herself. That blinding jealousy almost killed Harley on more than one occasion. She could only imagine if she felt the same over puppy lover and dead eyes, yes those names would forever be singed in her mind until she assigned them new names. She misses that roll of his eyes as she busily stared down both of those photographs.

She was no fool, she knew there was no glimmer of hope that Risque would simply let her be.. But she still asked all the same that maybe there could be a sliver of hope within this nightmare, that maybe Risque would have simply been content enough to leave her cursed to walk this world as a freaking furry.

Matteo offers her another ample shot of that gin, his gaze softening as if the lessen the blow. Reaching out she wraps her fingers around her glass, it would seem she needed it more than he did in that moment. She was not going to say no to that. There wasn't enough gin in that bottle to cope with all of this information. All hope is not lost, his accented words made her grumble. He sounded like a damned hallmark greeting card. At least he tried. The world was going to hell in a handbasket and she needed to prepare herself for this fight in more ways than one. She brought that drink to her lips downing it swiftly in one go, that sweet burn was welcomed. She scrunches her nose. "I figured that much.. This is going to be the fight of my life.." She mused darkly, but she didn't need visions to tell her that much. She almost laughed at those words in spite of herself. "As sappy as it sounds, there will always be hope as long as there is a breath in my lungs. There is no other choice to it." Now it was her turn to fiddle with that shot glass between her finger tips. You either prepare yourself to die or prepare yourself to live. She would much rather do the later. "Do whatever you need to prepare me.. Anything that can make that bitch wish she never met me." At least that was enough to bring a bitter smile to her lush lips.

That name seemed shocking on his lips, a frown instantly finding her features. Fucking Nathaniel the spaniel. He would have hated that name. But he had called her worse. Matteo inquires if she thought all of this had to do with Risque's brother. "Without a doubt in my mind. At least mostly." That piercing gaze meets his unflinching. "I know for a fact that she will not make me forget it. She hates me for what I did to their relationship." Harley was a wedge between them, one she suspected never healed entirely. For now, her words remain as cryptic as Matteo's own, giving him an answer without that full fucked up view. There was not enough gin to open up pandora's box right this second. "That rift could be an advantage, maybe." She adds, willing to exploit whatever she could to survive. She reached over to the dark wood of her coffee table to put her empty glass there. She poured him another one, sliding it over so he could have it should he want.

That conversation then shifts to Darcy, he sounds like a real piece of work. He sounded like one of those gloriously fucked up people she would avoid like the plague. Of course, Harley seized her opportunity to mess with the now serious fae at her side. Although, she wasn't exactly lying. Hot heads were her specialty and very literally she would find it easy to draw forth that dragon temper from Risque's sidekick.

Matteo suddenly lifts his hands suddenly in that defeat which prompts a wide unbidden grin upon her lips then, she played him exactly to where she wanted him. It was almost too good, she even surprised herself. "I.. win.. those look like arms of defeat to me." That mischievous gleam sparking within her eyes, her voice perfectly goading. "At least the one good thing I have going for me with dead eyes is... I am not Risque's type and I doubt she will want to spend more time with me than she has to. I won't provoke him unless it's worth the cost." She finally admits honestly... or as honestly as she possibly could. It was still up for a verdict just how much this vampire was going to piss her off.

However, his insight to Risque's bond with this card counting cowboy was useful and she ponders it carefully. He was right, she needed to see it with her own eyes. "If she relies on him.. then he is her weakness. But I need to see it with my own two eyes. I need to see how they interact. I really don't want to because I am 99% sure its just as perverse as my imagination says it is. If the bitch of the west can trust that man.. then he is leverage." Human's have a pack mentality. They crave to be social, perhaps vampires brought it with then even in death, yes it might be a different kind of beast entirely but at the base of it.. they might just crave what humans did.

Now came the interesting part, the part where she could possess an overpowered weapon to wield against the hellish fiend. Maybe it could be the very weapon that would send them to their graves. But nothing could have prepared her for that machine gun that appears within his hands. What seemed even odder was that it looked like it belonged within his grasp! He had to have known how to fire such a thing. It was undeniable that urge that tugged her so resolutely. She had to hold it! She had to practice with it and learn to shoot that gun. Excitement trilled within her as the thought entered that spitfire's mind. Maybe she actually had a chance! Her ideas streamline steadily within her like a flurry within her mind, she could hardly stop herself from reaching out that idle hand to touch it. It was suddenly gone, like it never existed at all and her reaching hand felt nothing but air. It was like he ripped the floor from underneath her, a frown etched fully upon her features now. A full-on piercing glare stares at the mocking fae. His laughter only serves to taunt her further! She slaps him on the arm abruptly that she felt the sting of it upon her hand. But it only caused that laughing to increase to a sound that almost resembled a belly laugh. Oh, she was glad he was SOOO amused with himself. To trick her like that was cruel.

"You just made my dreams and hopes die. I reeeeally hope you enjoy that laugh." She grumbles at him, a pout threatening to grace her lips. "You might as well just procured me a shovel so I can start digging. I thought you weren't supposed to fuck with my mind, huh?" She hmphs at him grumpily, that disappointment still evident within her words. She could hardly keep that amusement from herself for long when an intricate pair of sunglasses appeared within his hand. What in the actual hell was she supposed to do with a pair of sunglasses, besides look like a total boss. She slides those glasses on, they fit well like they were the perfect shape for her face. Surely it had to be by sheer luck alone. But his word cause her eyebrows to raise, blinking slowly like she couldn't believe the words that flowed from his lips. Keep the things that she didn't want to see. "What am I five? I am not afraid to see them for what they are. I think I might be better off with that machine gun.. or even a shovel.. I can at least do some damage with either or. Hell, I might even do more damage with a block of butter.." The woman added pointedly.

She stuck a pose for her own amusement, turning to face him a jest sliding easily from her lips. At least if she was going to skip off into hell she was going to do so amused. "Risque does not deserve these fancy glasses. Hell, I am not sure I've ever worn something so....... Ornate. There is a first for everything." She hardly knew how expensive those very glasses were, but maybe she could make it work when she had the opportunity to look at herself in the mirror later. "Unless you are going to make these disappear too.." She rose a brow at him, lowering her head so she could peer at him over top of the rims of her glasses. That look was meant to be intimidating but truly it lacked that conviction, especially with that smirk gracing her plush lips.

"You should know, I already have a gun and I haven't shot half the town, yet. Ye have so little faith.." she replied with that sardonic tone, rolling her eyes. A battle of the eyerolls, she was sure she had him beat in this too. "I thought you weren't uptight. I guess you are just as scared as the rest of the world. You really should take another drink, it might help with that." Her shoulders rises and falls in a offhand shrug to match her goading words.

The attention was then pulled to Cobain. "He's a child.. who the hell would turn a child? He looks no more than 14." She grumbled out loud and that still didn't cover the creepy vibe of those ruby red eyes. There were so many people, it was almost dizzying. There was no way she could remember them all, not tonight.

She couldn't help her gaze turn to Isolt, that crimson hair she pretty face she could pinpoint for miles. Her closest friend.. How would she get tied up in all of this? The thought alone made her fret. She was so used to protecting her, keeping her from the assholes of the world. But this was one asshole she was certain she could not. Finally, Matteo's hand gestured toward the one and only Tetradore and her face easily turned into a frown. However, Matteo's eyes seemed to linger on that photo like it meant something to him. He couldn't know him, know him? Could he? It was his words that only solidify this and she could not hide her disbelief. Well that was a plot twist and a half. How tempted Harley was to just grab the bottle and take a swing. She lifted those sunglasses so they combed back her hair, just so she could give him the look that this knowledge deserved. The biggest what-in-the-actual-fuck look of her life.

Matteo's words seem to scorch in her mind, sizzling like a hot poker jabbed roughly into it. Puppy lover, an ally? She could not hide that sheer look of bewilderment that assaults her then, peering at the picture of her tormentor. The one who had turned her into this thing, it was his teeth that tore apart her flesh, it was his ropes that bound her. It might have been Risque's command but all she could do was see HIS face. It never occurred to her to wonder if he was a good guy because he was too fucking busy slicing her up like a god damn jack-o-lantern. Oh, maybe she had should have looked him in the eye with kindness in between passing out from that pain and say. Oh, hey man, I'm sure you're a really a stand-up guy. I'm sorry you have to slice my arm off. Bullshit! "Your trying to tell me.. that the man who cut me up like a fucking paper snowflake is a good guy? And that same guy can teach me how to survive after he turned me into... this?" A scoff of laughter escapes her. Surely that's exactly what this was.. a joke.. But then she actually looked at him and saw no glimmer of jest within his silvery eyes. What in the actual hell? "I want to say your joking... But your face is telling me another story. Fuck man.. did you really have to befriend the enemy?" She huffs out a sigh, eyes narrowing while she runs a hand through her hair out of frustration. Did this mean, killing him was off the table?

" I do know he is smitten like a cat in heat over Isolt.. well he was.. But I can't wrap my head around him being an ally.. not in this lifetime." How she paused, trying to understand and entirely failing to in that moment. If she ever had to see that moppy-haired face it would be too soon. "I almost set him on fire once at Isolt's wedding, the first one. Well not me.. per say.. but I may have had a hand in it."

Harley Westward