stuff us in boxes that's where you want us
cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns
Pacing, she had been reduced to spend tonight pacing. Uncomfortable didn't seem to explain how she felt tonight as her bare feet padded along the hard wood floor of her petite one-bedroom apartment. It felt like her very skin was almost too tight for her body, as though the raven-haired woman seemed unable to settle no matter what she did. She tried take a drink or two to soothe her tattered nerves, which irritatingly enough failed. Yet nothing could very pacify that formidable tsunami just beneath the surface. Flesh only seemed to get in the way, it wanted nothing more to rip away from her, like it hardly had no right to be there. It was like her own body was a traitor to itself and no amount of grumbling or her usual antics to soothe it would help her. Not with that full moon soon encroaching.
She could feel the distinct change almost immediately upon waking up from that dreadful nightmare at Syn, her wounds had all but healed. However, there is something, still, all wrong. It was strange seeing that empty space on her arm that had been rejuvenated, almost like the empty space that dwelled within her. At the very least, she had healed, that skin somehow renewed except for the bite marks that mar the sensitive flesh of her upper thigh. A reminder that this hadn't been a dream. It was a nightmare. Only she didn't wake up from this. It replayed within her mind like an old school horror film in less than perfect clarity. She was its unfortunate star, at least for a moment and she hated every moment of it. But it was enough to drive that stake home, to incite fear and that sense of hopelessness that agonizingly revolted against her.
All Harley wanted to do was shove those dismal memories far back into the recesses she didn't touch. It was hardly healthy to sweep things under the rug like that but how else could one process the impossible? Harley was not prepared for those changes upon her, she had once hated herself for being so weak in comparison to those monsters she faced. How little she knew.
Then again, when was anything ever subtle for the raven-haired woman. The answer was a big fat never. It was die in a blaze of glory or nothing at all.
Those changes, subtle at first, tricky little thing it was. She had tried so desperately to ignore and yet the only intensified as the full moon grew closer. She was so dreadfully aware of that moon, even before it rose, she could somehow feel it as though she had somehow become connected with it, somehow. It was entirely silly of a notion. It was easy to live in a blissful denial, but even she could not fool herself for that long. Tonight, she felt its pull even before it rose in that sky. She saw the articles of everyone freaking out of some super blood moon. It was like any time something abnormal happened society was so quick to cry out the 'end of days'! Lock your doors, stock up!
Earlier that day had made the mistake to wander off to the store to pick up some items. Needless to say it was a terrible idea. The raven-haired spitfire nearly had a damn meltdown in the middle of the store, breaking out into a drenching sweat, nearly dramatically collapsing in the aisleway while checking out the wide variety of cereals. The walls practically closed in on her. Onlookers probably thought she was tripping out on acid. Or else why would someone act so erratically? Without buying anything she actually made it out alive and back in the safe confines of her apartment, that had to count for something. "Look.. If I can't go to the store to get us food to eat, we both die.." She grumbled to herself, well aware of that second entity that lurked just beneath her skin even though 98% of the time she liked to pretend it didn't exist. Great, she could add crazy to her growing list of symptoms. Several hours had passed since then and she had managed to stuff her face with whatever she could scavenge within her closet which wasn't impressive, but at least her belly was full-ish. Ace at least had enough to get through the week, but what then?
Ace started barking before that sharp, loud knock resounded through her quaint home, it rattled inside her head like she could hear every damn sound in perfect clarity. She had been standing, unable to will her body to sit, she couldn't still herself to take a seat if her life depended on it. She wasn't expecting anyone, she looked briefly toward her phone, no new messages. Who would have though a knock on her door could be the one thing that made everything inside of her go quiet as a graveyard at 3am. Regardless, she was not going to live in fear. She strut toward that door, half expecting to maybe find Sterling on the other side through that little peep hole. See, she learned. Ace was going ballistic, like he already knew. Fuck. Of all the fucking people, it was Tetradore. His presence meant nothing good.
Harley stilled, ever nerve ending wide awake and alert, every wire misfiring within her screamed intruder. She scooped up her little monster, quickly moving toward her room where she knew her gun slept safely underneath her pillow. She shoved Ace into that bathroom, making sure he was secure and safe. She wouldn't risk him. But he was clearly not happy with that particular arrangement.
She jumped upon her made bed like she was defending her plushy mound of pillows and blankets, snatching that gun. She stood, legs part and braced and the gun facing toward the door. This night was getting better and better. She heard her name and she nearly jumped out of her skin, how close that sound was inside of her home. How the fuck did he get in? "What part of a locked door do you not understand. Go away." She called, knowing it was only a matter of time before he found her. But at least, this time she was ready.
When her door seemed to frame him, she spoke once more, trying to seem level which in a perfect little wrapped dosage of sarcasm. "I wouldn't try anything. I don't have the best aim and I might accidently misfire into your face." Yeah... accident. How easily those sardonic words meet him, her manicured brow raising in challenge, no hint of a smile lingering upon her lips as her features. Displeasure washed over her, while that cutting gaze watches him like the predator she was. She could hear Ace throwing himself and pawing at the door of her bathroom, he sounded nearly demonic with all his thrashing and growls that eventually gave way into a helpless, heart wrenching whines. At least he was out of reach just in case Tetradore decided to lose his patience with her black floofy menace. This was for her pups safety.
At least this time he didn't have the ropes, she took note almost immediately that he wasn't carrying anything. Maybe he just wanted to talk? Yeah bullshit. She made it abundantly clear what she thought of him with the aftermath she left in his precious Ark. "Aw, look, no ropes! Given up on bondage I see." Her eyes narrow as she fashions a rather deadly glare fixed in his direction, if only looks could kill. Then more than half the population would surely be dead.
Her posture seemed to lessen slightly, she was hardly used to standing in that posture for long periods and impatience seemed to attack her wavering resolve. She had to remind herself to lift up those arms and continue that menacing posture. There was a feral-ness lurking behind those vibrant eyes, an inkling to the feline that now dwelled just beneath the surface of her skin. She knew it, she could feel it to, feel that pull of the impending moon that could soon claim her. Denial was something the raven-haired woman was good at. Especially now.
"I would say good of you to stop by... but we both know that would be a lie. So why don't you tell me what in the fuck do you want? So you can saunter your feline ass outta here." There was an ominous edge to her voice, something pressing and woven within those very construct of her words. Her inner feline seemed to like being on her perch, looking down upon that impending threat with a smug advantage. Or so she thought.
She hardly felt fearful, not with this gun in her hand.