THE SUPREME

head leans back briefly as an exasperated sigh sounds through her nose.  it’s then mia stands to her feet and soon finds herself at fiona’s side.  lips pursed as she walks at the other woman’s side ,  thoughts run through her head as to what she was here for.  wasn’t sure what she was made to think about the late supreme’s death               or if that’s the REASON why she’s here in the first place.  but shes’ sure that whatever it is ,  it’ll all be sorted out soon enough.   “   are ya’ telling me you’re SCREWING the chef as well as eating his food  ?   ”   brow quirks as head shifts the side momentarily.  then ,  gives a shrug of her shoulders ,   “   must be cooking up something good or something or it’s just the good fuck.  either way   …   ”   a pause as she looks ahead ,  “   fine dining sucks.   ”  

her opinion had nothing to do with the price ,  it had more to do with the quantity.  a plate with a morsel of food on it that barely get’s you through a meal  ?  NO FUCKING THANK YOU.  “   a psychologist  ?   ”   she couldn’t suppress her chuckle which is only got stuck in her throat.   “   i don’t think i’m that surprised by that either.  and if that’s the case ,  i won’t be takin’ your time up.  i’ve got a plane to catch two hours from now.   ”   

THE DINING ROOM  DOOR  opened  before  them.  sudden  spasm  of  glimmering  lights  created  golden  aureoles  around  their  bodies.  fiona  goode  smiled  at  herself  as  if  she  was  the  reason for the  dinner’s  preparations.  such  a  shallow  show  to  mute  the  TOXICITY,  boiling  inside  of  her  body.  the  edges  of  her  mouth  turned  downward,  bottle-green  stare  darkened.  she  caught  the  other  woman’s  words,  coming  from  behind  her  back.  ❛❛  to  be  completely  honest  with  you  —  i  hired  him basing on  his  cooking  skills  ONLY.  the  rest  came  within  the  packaging.  ❜❜  the tone  of  voice  rose  up  higher,  just  to  hide  the  overwhelming  EMPTINESS.  we  all  learn  how to pack  up  our  shit  and  wrap  it  around  with  a  fucking  glimmering  bow.

OOC !  /       sooooooooo  … first of all - hello ! thank you for coming over and actually taking the time to ask me something about my rp blog. your time is way too precious for me, so thank you once again.

SHE IS SOMETHING OF MAGIC, IT FROTHS IN HIM AS HE IS FORCED TO SIT. and such unsheathes the worst of him. the old him, the tony stark of him in which he'd gone to his father’s funeral drunk as a fool stepping atop his  open casket to taunt the dead man. look bastard he had said, your dead , i am alive before landing in the coffin with him to strangle out any chance of him ever coming back. this was him when he had watched stane fall from the sky, his helmet in his own hands, so that stane’s brain would collapse on its own. head shattered, in which he had revealed in. in which all he could think was that he was not the abused anymore but the abuser. it had taken him eight years to hold back these savage sentiments, but in a matter of five minutes she had unraveled it all. ____ “ so you take my discomfort, my slight sarcasm and take it as disrespect.”  he is inching his back up the chair, his face but an pushing back on her’s.  ___ “ you think to command me with whatever is in you. love you don’t know what is like to command, you have no fucking idea of what i have been through.” 

he grabs her hand, ____ “ you want to make me stop talking?” he takes the fingers of that hand and forces it into his mouth ____” here is the tongue take it out. break the teeth. damage it come on”  his howling at her, eyes wide with maina. and body hot with the a need for pandemonium on which her hand is brought to his throat. ____” how about this, cut my fucking head off dearie. i don’t care and no other fucking person does.do you think that if i die this company dies is that what your business is? love this company takes from people like you, it takes and it takes until your but a bucket of bones starving for an honest dose of anything.” he pinches  into her arm ___” you’d be saving me a lot of time, in trying to save this shithole by killing me.”     

HIS  BOILING  AURA  hits  her  back  violently.  as  if  someone  TWISTED  her  guts  and  then  commanded  her  to  rip  it  all  off  her  chest.  she’s  not  scared  of  him.  she  hasn’t  felt  fear  for  quite  some  time  now.  it’s  rather  they  way  he’s  taken  her  aback.  it  wasn’t  in  her  intentions  to  join  the  CIRCUS  of  drama  and  unwelcome  emotions.  is  HE  scared  ?  angry  ?  AMBIVALENT  ?  fiona  goode  didn’t  receive  the  luxury  of  wondering  when  being  assaulted  with  VIOLENCE.

it  almost  feels  as  if  she  was  watching  a  movie.  everything  came  and  DISAPPEARED  so  fast,  but  for  her, as  the  viewer,  it  took  hours  to  finally  realize  where  she  is.  her  slender  fingers  wet  and  sticky.  she  hides  her  hand  behind  her  back.  suddenly  —  she  felt  it.  the  familiar  feeling  of  TURBULENT  adrenaline  kicking  in.  the heart  is  beating  faster  and  faster.  pinched  arm  warms  up  the  atmosphere.  chin  raised  upward.  she’s  prepared  for  another  punch,  for  another  TOXICITY  coming  froM  the  man’s  burning  tongue.  she  still feels  perfectly  its  form  between  her  fingers.

“ no, I don’t believe so.  I like to think my particular brand of speech is my own … I don’t encounter many others of a similar type.  But if it would be more helpful to you, I can be more direct. “ Which is not meant to insinuate she is STUPID, no – he’d never be so rude as that.  But he does eye the drumming of her fingers and consider carefully.  

“ To be fair, this session is not for me to talk, it’s for you.  I say much without saying anything of substance because it’s for your response, not the other way around … “ 

❛❛  EVERYONE’S  BRAND  OF  SPEECH  IS  THEIR  OWN.  quite  reasonable,  isn’t  it  ?  ❜❜  fiona  goode  leans  back  in  a  huge  chair,  drowning  in  puffy  pillows.  blonde  tendrils  of  hair  create  a  glimmering  aureole  around  her  head.  'more helpful to you’  …  a  quiet  snort  left  her  half-widened  mouth.  head  tilted  to  a  side.  ❛❛  your  ACTIONS  can  be  more  direct.  ❜❜  black,  leather  skirt  squeezes  tightly  her  rounded  thighs.  one  leg, lifted  a  bit  upward,  crosses  a  small  distance  above,  landing  on  an  opposite  knee.  ❛❛  doc,  the  thing  is  …  i’m  falling  apart.  i  don’t  know  WHAT  i  am  anymore.  i  don’t  know  if  i  want  to  be  anything  in  particular  …  ❜❜