It had been his own fault, surely, his own hunger and momentary disobedience ( a truly rare thing) driven in turn by his sheer disdain for Tetradore that had seen his tongue brush along the panthers wounded neck to have just a taste of the blood left lingering there. If onyl Tetradore hadn't gone and made a fucking sound. Yes. It was Tetradore's fault. Not his. Not Risques. Her mood was only poor because of the Panther whom had sullied her outfit and forced her to muddy herself. Tetradore. It was always fucking Tetradore.Thatdeep seated, near blacnkened hatred for his Mistresses cherished pet only settled more deeplying within Darcy's own veins as Risque rounded, rightfully, upon him. His mismatched gaze was quick to avert from her own in that readily submissive gesture. A silently passive act so designed to appease those predatory instincts within her on that near subconscious level. His own words however were quick to come. That apology well practised. A perfect blend of remorse and subservience without any hint of begging or fear that would so prompt that vampiric Queen to label him weak. Risue, after all, seemed seek weakness like a shark sought blood within a pool of water. Darcy, for now, careful not to allow her that very thought. Weakness, after all,only irritated her more.
His own words were hardly foolish, the vampiric cowboy so weaving that narrative that conveniently twisted his actions from the veritable crime of pilfering food to merely seeking to act on his Mistresses behalf. Yes. He had been thinking of her all along. He had merely been closing that wound to prevent any of that precious blood from falling, useless, to the ground below to be drunk by that every thirsty soil beneath. He had only been thinking of her. Always her. Darcy Nothing if not an opportunist- and one entirely inclined to be cunning when the mood should strike him. He had not survived this long by being foolish. Risque's pale, hypnotic gaze lingered upon him then, her words, dangerously calm, inclined to insist that if she had desired that wound closed she would have done it herself.
It was better in those tenous moments to appease her. To assure her he understood her will in this terrible...misunderstanding before seeking to draw her attention away from it entirely. Darcy's gaze shifted, his mismatched eyes so hardly meeting her own just yet, rather, they fell upon that gifted bracelet at her first. The vampire content to praise just how it look upon her. Risque, after all, had always been one for gifts. A lavish enough gift entirely inclined to soothe her mood in an opportune moment. Tetradore's inability to stay fucking quiet having rendere this just such a moment in which those sweet words might surely be needed. Her own gaze shifted to linger upon that gift, Darcy quick to comment upon her beloved pets behaviour this evening. Yes. It was all Tetradore. The panther so surely the one that deserved for punishment, or at least, the majority of it. Darcy's foot shifted upon the ground, that very action near imperceptible and wholly subtle. That hallucinating feline so hardly have the chance to move his precious paw as his boot pressed agianst it- before pressing down. All he needed was the cat to growl, hiss, snarl...something, anything and Risque's irritation would surely lash at him like a whip. The pathetic Were forced to take the brunt of her anger- the way it should be. How he had lost count over the years of the amount of times he had set Tetradore up to fail. To absorb their mistresses anger instead of himself. This would surely be no different.
The very force of his foot crushing Tetrdore's paw so at last prompted just that reaction from the feline, that sound so resulting in Risque releasing his own arm to turn with fury toward that foolish feline. Oh, how he could feel that power within her, that energy! How decidedly ...alluring it was when it was so hardly focused upon himself. Darcy's own lip quirked upwards with the dark, that subtle smirk finding his features as Risques irritation lashed out again and again at the Were before insisting he would pay for tonight. Good. How much he hoped it fucking hurt. That amusement was quick to evaporate from his features as Risque spun once more to face him again, his crimes it seemed, not totally forgiven. That vampiric Queen so insisting she would deal with him later- that he might even enjoy it, fis eh deemed it as such. That gift having been sufficiently pleasing, her curiosity for the second part of that surprise so remaining intact. Darcy's own gaze remained decidedly neutral, a carefully worn mask to hide that.....reluctance to be dealt with in any fashion. It had been years since he had been on that wall within her office. Surely she hardly mean that, did she? How cryptic her very words were inclined to be, that insistence he might even enjoy it so piquing his curiosity and yet how very different their versions of 'enjoyment' might prove to be. Darcy so left to linger on that proverbial knife's edge of curious wariness before she commanded hetake Tetradore home and fit his silver collar before finding her again. The vampire Queen demanding to drive alone as her hand extended for those car keys.
How quick the vampiric cowboy was to present those car keys to her as required. Darcy, for all his dominance, was inclined to remain subservient to his lover alone. The vampire offered her that obedient nod of understanding even despite his displeasure in the situation. This evening so hardly going exactly as he planned. Darcy's gaze lingered upon his lover for a moment longer as she retreated into the darkness of the forest- leaving him alone with that fucking feline. His eyes so slicing that darkness to land back upon the panther at his feet. How deeply ingrained that hate was, the mere sight of that cat so prompting that growl to rise within the depths of his throat. Killing Tetradore would earn him nothing but punishment and yet how dangerously close he lingered to that very act. How Tetradore have praised their mistress if only for the fact her presence alone kept him alive and free of Darcy's own fangs.
"Can ya even fuckin' walk? Keep up."
Those very words were snapped through the sound of his own growl, Darcyroughly shoving past that panther to follow that trail back into the trees, the vampire hardly daring to get too far ahead lest Tetradore make some foolhardy attempt to flee. The Panther, tonight at least, seeming content enough to follow- at a distance. Perhaps he anticipated Darcy's own decidedly short patience with him. His desires to pull each disc out of Tetradores spine one a at a time so painting a plethora of pictures in his own mind as he walked. How he would relish the day.
"Yar should be glad she's punishin' ya, Tet. Yar should enjoy it-"
Those very words cut the night air once more, Darcy so hardly turning around to eye that feline, his vampiric senses entirely aware of just where Tetradore walked and that sputtering beat of his heart.
"-'cause whatever the fuck she does to ya is gunna be a fuckin' dream compared to when she ain'tl ookin' long enough for me to get a hold of ya. Dun tink I won't. I ain't forgettin dis, boy. Yar better praise da ground she walks on cause she da only ting dats keepin you alive."
Those words were hardly so much a threat as they were a promise. Darcy entirely inclined to bide his time for as long as it took for his beloved to leave for an evening out, to be called away on a business trip and leave the bar in his hands as she often did. How easy it would be to have Tetradore brought to him then. Surely Risque would hardly mind him ...playing with her pet a little. That walk back to the carpark had at least proven short, Darcy content to move to the drivers side door, snatching those keys from where they had been left before settling in that drivers seat- before the realisation Tetradore could hardly open his own door seemed to strike him, the panther left sitting at that passenger door.
Darcy's own affinity for those cars to readily extended then. The vampire silently commanded that door to open and allow the panther onto that seat. Tetradore, for now, at least appearing far too ...forlorn to consider attacking him again. The memory of those teeth agianst his own neck one the vampire had not readily forgotten and an experience he was hardly inclined to live again. The panther appearing subdued enough for now. The car roared to life beneath his hands, Darcy quick to send it into reverse, those tyres squealing beneath that rush of speed as the vampire all but sped from that parking lot. His mismatched gaze remained focused on the road, his tongue content to toy with the tip of his fang in a clear contemplation for much of that drive. Darcy unwilling to so much as engage that cat in any sense. The drive back to Syn, at those speeds at which he commanded that car, so mercifully short. How much he would have preferred to drive with his beloved! Tetradore so having cost him that very pleasure in turn. Clean him up, she had said, very well. That car rolled smoothly into that rear parking lot, Darcy quick to slide from that drivers seat before commanding that door to open for Tetradore once more to allow the anther to leap out.
"Randal, go git me 'is collar, da silver one."
That tall vampire whom so often lingered within the car park during his break was quick to comply, Randall, for all his size, was by far one of the clubs more submissive employees, the damn fool hurrying off to do as he was bid as Darcy's gaze returned to the panther whom lingered like a shadow in the darkness beside him.
"Awww, look at ya Tetty-Bear, got all dirty did ya. Das a shame. We 'ave ta fix dat don't we?"
Those very words were offered with a falsified...kindness he knew the Were had long ago stopped believing in. Tetradore no longer that little boy so easily lured into trusting him. Darcy, now, content to use those very words as a veritable tease. A promise of what was sure to come. Randall was quick to return with that collar and a pair of gloves, Darcy dismissing the other man near instantly before sliding those gloves into place to shield his own hands from that silver. The vampire momentarily inclined to pause- putting that collar on, after all, so required him to bend down near that panther- Risque hardly present to prevent him from attacking. How long would those hallucinations last? Was Tetradore even capable of that bite or was the cat so merely pretending.
"Yar take one fuckin' swipe at me an I'll tell her yar fell out of da car when we was drivin 'ome. Dats da only ting day will explain da fuckin' mess I will make of ya if you do."
How readily he meant those words. Darcy crouched easily then, his desire to do his Mistress' bidding outweighing his own...wariness of that panther then as he saw to fitting that silver collar firmly agianst the felines neck before attacking that leash in turn. Darcy hardly foolish enough to believe tetradore might not have recovered enough to attempt to run once more. Risque unlikely to forgive him for losing the panther tonight. Yet- there was still the manner of cleaning that cat up. The end of that leash was easily fastened to a singular steel bar against the wall of the club, Darcy inclined to wander from the panther then to grasp that hose so used for washing the cars. That cold night resulting in that water so hardly above freezing temperature and yet Risque ad hardly commanded her pet be given a warm bath now had she? Tetradore, fastned to that wall, so hardly provided with opportunity to avoid that icy blast as Darcy turned the hose on, that water colliding solidly with the cat. Darcy wholly content to simply continue to hose the flailing feline for several long moments.
"Maybe I should be in charge of givin' ya baths more often. Dis is kinda fun. Look, I even smiled, das rare ya know."
That grin that found his lips only widened, Darcy loosely moving his hand to keep ponting that hose at the Panther regardless of where he tried to move before so at last shatting that water off to leave the surely shivering creature sodden- and clean. That would teach him to go play in the mud. Darcy reached to grasp that leash once more, the vampire content to drag the Were if he insisted on ragging his feet before the pair made their way back into the club and towards Risques bedroom. His lover surely having retreated to the depths of her room to change her outfit. Risque, after all, was hardly inclined to wear anything less than ravishing. Darcy's hand reached upward to tap agianst that door then, the vampire waiting only a few moments before it opened from within. His lovers outfit, as he had anticipated, so vastly improved with that change. The shivering, semi-dry Tetradore largely ignored as his gaze focused upon his mistress alone.
"Yar a vision as always darlin. Do ya have dat key I gave ya? We need to go to day basement now."
Surprises, he knew, so had a way of intriguing his lover, this one, surely, inspiring her curiosity enough to desire to see it. Darcy waited only so long as it took Risque to fall into step beside him as they made their way further into the club and down into its very depths. Tetradore so unfortunately dragged along in turn until they reached that basement. Darcy's own hand pressed agians tthe heavy door then, pushing it open to step into the depths of his lover much adorded torture chamber, that floor having been littered with black balloons to so further add to that decidedly birthday theme. That newest piece, purchased and rebuilt just for her, so seated within the center of the room.
"Do ya like it, Darlin? I found some designs for it online after watching one of dem history shows, had someone build it for ya. Day call it Da Rack."
How she had always adored those new torture devices. Darcy assured that this, surely, might lessen the weight of his earlier crimes within her eyes as his gaze shifted from his lover to that Rack and back again to gauge her reaction. That hint of a simper finding his lips then as one hand lifted to gesture then to the far side of the room.
"Ya dun tink I got ya a toy without getting ya someone ta play with did ya?"
How foolish it would be to gift her an incomplete gift! A torture device with no one to torture was....wasted. The vampire inclined to gesture to the cage on the far side of the room that contained that young, terrified, Fae man. A truly rare and expensive delicacy. The Fae at least twenty five or so. A truly aged Fae, after all, was near unheard of, the younger ones alone rare enough and yet that blood had aged for at least those twenty five years. Darcy assured that taste would be...significant all the same. The Fae having been a truly ... an expensive purchase. Surely...she would adore this gift.
"Dat key opens da cage."
We are rough men and used to rough ways.