stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

Darcy's words uncoil from the darkness, it incites annoyance easily within her chest in the form of a pang of her heart, an adrenaline surge. How easily he dismisses her words without a second thought, how those fresh words still lay exposed like the fleshly spilt blood from the victims inside that trashed bar just a few feet away. Truly, his words should haven't even scratched the surface of the impervious wall that was Harlequin and yet... he managed to slither through the cracks she hardly knew were there. That knowing look she is met with only serves to irk her more and yet almost peer at him questioningly with those vibrant eyes. He was wrong, clearly.. Was that amusement on that twisted little shits face? Instinctively she could feel the curl of her lips, like she needed to defend herself immediately, calling to arms that fierce inner resolve she knew that still dwelled.

Darcy seemed content to avoid entering the confines of their ride back to Syn, far away from this bloodied pit of a faux cowboy's fantasy. The night air envelopes her sweetly while Darcy's intentions were anything but. Sealed with a bullet that lodges within her torso, that pain and her affinity for metal flares to life but the blood blooming like a crimson flower tells her she is too late. Too distracted. It didn't stop her from lashing out. That bullet narrowly misses him and she instantly regrets not inflicting an eye for an eye. It would serve as an immediate justice, she knew he sure as hell deserved it.

Harley goads him then with venomous spite, allowing that adrenaline and twisted anger to warp into some form of high ground. He continues to count, those numbers increasing and she hardly knew what bullshit he was rattling on about. "Tree what?" She mimics boldly still, eyes narrowed into slits even as he offers her no more. Teasing, toying with his fingers waving in the air, a threat she hardly knew what he meant. With a silent scoff uttered upon her lips she slides into that car with an eagerness to leave this night and its horrors behind.

The car-ride was riddled with an agonizing silence and the scent of her own blood toys with her senses. It didn't take long for that quiet to be ruined by a roaring of her own mind takes hold. Not allowing it to settle upon one rancorous thought over the other but everything all at once. She hardly cared in the slightest what lingered in Darcy's own mind as he drove like an absolute lunatic through the chaotic streets of Sacrosanct scattered with police rushing to a scene far to late. After their near run-in with that other vehicle the rest was smooth sailing, navigating towards hell itself with time to spare. Lovely.

While Darcy was occupied with his close pal Lorelai, Harley was occupied with the chatty albeit somewhat friendly bartender, Ian. It was certainly better company than her own mind. The information he offers her is valuable and she greedily stores it all. Some of it coinciding with information she already knows. Eager to find ways to use this to her advantage, if at all. One minute, there were three vampires and then one remained. She would have taken either one of the others over him in that moment. The worst one of them all. Especially as he took the little joy she so could have salvaged from that night. The explanation was complete and utter bullshit. But it would seem that battle was hardly worth the effort or the consequences.

Of course, Darcy that had just pilfered her well-earned stash, would be amused by being called of a killer of joy. It causes a sheer look of disdain crosses her feminine features, those vibrant purple eyes rolling obviously. He hardly stopped there and as always. Harley fashioned her own noose with those sharpened words of her. As much as a blessing they could be they were also just as much as her curse. That snort easily leaves him, betraying his amusement. His words prompted an actual laugh from her, a sound that nearly takes her by surprise and hurts all at the same time, but surely he had to be joking. Harley a stripper?? Yeah okay. Was he not present for the night? She would not dance on bar tops. What the fuck would possess him to think she would strip for any dick with eyes? Her laughter died the moment she found herself the only one laughing.

She rose her idle hand then from the sheer ridiculousness of that very statement, her face turning into scowl. "Here I thought you were smarter than you look. Necrophilia isn't my thing." A weak jab but it was one none the less and she would take it when she could. She wanted to swipe that blasted look upon his wretched pale face then. Those words not to push her luck sliced through the air like a lingering threat. How many times had she heard that one before? How many times had she ignored those warnings? "Go to hell, Darcy." She spat with dripping contempt. She would murder any bloodsucker that tried. She was sure that would be bad for business.

Suddenly Darcy got quiet, too damn quiet. That look upon his face is one she had seen before, but not on his face. His barbed stare and the way his lips parted just so, was a dead giveaway to suggest to just what he was thinking. The way he said her name possessed that potent threat that things were about to go very badly for her. That name prompted her gaze to raise, that dynamite spirit slicing toward him in that glare. Like hell she cared if he was hungry or not. Not her damn problem. He didn't respond to her and instead, that demeanor seemed to intensify. That anxiety coils within her as did that tension, that inner feline clearly disgruntled with being looked upon like prey. How she bristled at the thought. Like hell this was happening. Memories seem to swirl about her head, memories she had happily repressed along with all the other unsavory details of her past she hardly wished to share.

She didn't answer him then, willing to face the wrath of ignoring him. Her own rage rattled her to the core. She could hardly help the way she looked for those exits. There were none, only the battalion of cars, but there was one right here. She decided on the closest one, the one they used for the evening, fully anticipating that vampiric speed. She would fight.. Fight to the end if she had to, anything was better than rolling over and submitting. Anything to avoid that bite, she acted fast, seizing the moment she had, mere seconds. He hardly moved, in fact, he seemed apathetic, even. That perhaps was more disturbing than giving chase. There was almost a sense of victory having placed that car between them, if only she could continue it. Until what? She was in a battle with no weapon and she sure as hell wasn't going to rely on her inner cat.

Come here he commanded, Harley watching him closely with an animalistic scrutiny, ever aware of the creature wanting to hunt her. She refused to answer his call, ready to scale the car if need be. "Nah, I like it over here." But just like that, the car was suddenly brushed away, leaving Harley entirely exposed to him once more, that snarl escaping him. "fuck." She said with feeling. His face distorted into something hardly human, but it was a sound and face she could understand, well her inner cat could. He seemed entirely predatory in those moments and it seemed to collide and clash against her own and yet still she refuses that feline control.

He stated how much he hated those glasses and that prompted an amused smile to touch her lips. It would appear that look of his didn't work, those glasses had prevailed. That sly fae man was right about yet another thing. Although she really shouldn't have been as surprised as she was. She felt the need to defend those glasses for some reason. "You wouldn't know good taste, even if it bit you in the ass." She apparently didn't lose her tongue. She waited for that twitch, an indication of movement. But it happened to fast, the moment she saw him make his move and she began to rush to action he was already behind her arms seizing her at the waist. She thrashed, twisting and turning against that grip no matter how much it hurt her existing wounds to do so, a rumble of a growl escaping her. It was all in vain but it doesn't stop her. She slammed her foot down onto his boot, then trying to set him off balance by slamming back into him. He didn't budge. Not an inch. She felt the feel of his free hand raising to tip her neck to him. She tried to jerk free from that grip but it was impossible, she forgot how helpless she felt within a vampire's embrace. Her heart was thunderous, she could hear the sound in her own ears. In a last ditch effort she tries to slam her elbow into his side. Nothing. His grip upon her waist was impossible, her options were limited. Fuck, this was going to happen.

His words slithered toward her ears, soothing and reassuring. But she knew better, it creates the opposite within her. Her stomach filled with lead and of course she did the one thing he told her not to do. She fucking struggled like hell, with every last ounce she could. Her breath broke out into shortened pants as she nearly gave in to a full-blown panic attack. She would rather her hit her, stab her.. Hell he could have thrown another bullet at her and she would take it. His hand caressing her neck repulsed her, made her want to recoil but there was nowhere to go. It was far from tender, allowing that silver to caress her flesh. The moment it touched her she flinches beneath that cruel touch a whimper escaping her lips. A sound she hated.. a sound she resented with every last fiber of her being. She could smell that burning of her flesh, feel the blood that seemed to rush to the surface.

The raven-haired woman's struggles were all for naught, that grip hardly relenting. She could hardly breathe. She could hear the sound of his lips parting, feel the coolness of his own flesh as though it combated against her hot skin that seemed to flare. That tongue felt cool against her angry open wound as she jerked hard, trying to get away. "You bastard.. I hope you choke on it." She let that hatred in her voice show. Darcy toying with her in this way was the worst thing he could have done. Harley could not help that sound of pain that escapes her as those ruthless, brutal elongated fangs met their mark. For a moment all she could feel was pain. She could feel those brutal fangs and thankfully it hurt... it hurt so damn much she nearly passed out from it, seeing stars dot her vision. She tried again to jerk away that movement ripped a muffled cry escape from her throat. There was no pulling away from that relentless hold. She heard it all, the sound of him stealing her blood. His grip tightened upon her waist, it only irritated that wound, her prying fingers stopped. It felt like eternity. It was a miracle she didn't scream, any normal person would have. That sound had been destroyed from her long ago. She hardly heard Randall's approach, she didn't even look up. Unceremoniously Darcy simply releases her.

She was left lightheaded, beaten and broken. Blood still trickled down her shoulder when he suddenly released her. Ignoring the possessive bravado between the two vampires. She was quite sure she was wobbly, the room felt like it was spinning as her body trembled. She must have looked like she was going to flop because Randall caught her by the arm.

"Randy dolphin... here to save the day. Woopdeedo." She uttered sarcastically, a little more mumbled than she would have liked. She was all but ignored as the two of them spoke. "Come on.. you can do better than..." She paused, recognition slamming her hard. She could hardly shove down that panic, which did no good to that bloody mauling wound on her shoulder.

"Wait a sec.. what do you mean lock me up? Both of you can fuck each other. I'm not going anywhere." She crossed her arms defiantly, mainly coming across sulky. Not that it made any difference as Randall proceeded to escort, no more like drag her off to who the fuck knows where.

"Mark my words, Darcy. I am going to fucking kill you." How effective those words actually were was yet to be seen, but she doubted he gave a shit. Which was only confirmed by a disturbing bloodied smile, her blood. She tried to lunge for him them but was immediately yanked back almost falling backward. She was quite sure she would have been dragged if need be. His words sliced through her then, her violet eyes full of hate as she glared at him. She hated the way he said her god damn name. "Go play in sunlight." She snapped even despite the exhaustion that washed over her.. but even then her fight was gone even as she tried to struggle against Randall. Even when dragged and shoved into that silver cage like an animal. Sleep never came. Eventually, all she could do was press her cheek to that cold ground feeling desolate. When no one was watching, she could hardly stop a singular tear rolling defeatedly down her cheek before she became filled with doubt.

Harley Westward