How things come crashing down - Roleplay for Pepper and Tony
Emma had told everyone that her detox was going well. What she was actually doing was focusing on the one bright spot. She told any and all that asked that at least she hadn't been throwing up, and she hadn't. Even the pain wasn't as bad as it had been in the past. That was the only symptom hat had lessened this time.
The anger was a new sensation. Not that Emma wasn't used to irrational rage and anger but now it seemed to be a constant thing. She woke so angry she could barely see straight, spent the day fighting back the urge to physically hurt people and laid down to try and sleep with violent images in her head.
And then the day it all came crashing down.
Now Star was gone. Sean was in Ireland. The staff themselves had ran, going into hiding after the way Emma's mood had turned and twisted. The number of broken items in the house might have worried them that animate objects might well be next. They had every reason to fear.
The call came at near dusk. It should have been simple, nothing to be concerned about. Instead within the hour Emma was in her jet and on her way to New York. The Hellfire was ready, just waiting for her final approval. If that was what they wanted then they would have her exact feelings on the matter.
She was silent on the plane, not a single word said as she rode in the car to the club. Sebastian stood by the door, face impassive as Emma stepped from the car.
"Go away."
It was the first thing she'd said since she'd left Boston and her voice was rough and gravelly for it.
"Excuse me?" He snorted, already reaching for the door. Role of doorman was not what he signed on for but he'd known Emma long enough to know that this mood bode poorly for anyone and everyone.
"You heard me, Sebastian. Leave. Now." Her eyes were hidden behind dark glasses but her mouth was set into a thin line. "Not another word,' she said, jerking the door from his hand. "Go."
"Are you..." Realization dawned on his face even as she swept past him and stormed into the club. "God, why does she give it up. At least on it she's relatively sane." Waving at the driver, he slid into the car. Emma never realized what he had done. She was too busy with the club and her plans. She found the items she needed in the basement, lugging the canisters up to the first floor.
Emma was not a stupid woman and yet in that moment she was distracted. It was easy to forget things like exits and safety when you were reclaiming a life you'd never had. With Pepper and Tony in her life, she couldn't have this club. Knowing that Steve might be checking into what she was doing, she couldn't have the club. If she ever wanted to explore the life she and Sean had never had, she couldn't allow this back into her life. She had to be that other woman, the one that wasn't the White Queen. Tony had put that to her. Was she truly the White Queen or was she a persona Emma wore to hide who she truly was.
Maybe now she'd find out.
The scent of alcohol was thick around her, gin and vodka mingling with tequila and rum. It was like being doused in a Long Island Ice Tea and the very scent turned Emma's stomach. A single bottle remained, her favored Russian vodka in hand. From the mouth of the bottle hung what looked like a rag. Only someone close to Emma would know it was a torn strip of alcohol soaked leather. White leather. The trim from her cloak.
"Goodbye,' she said to no one, everyone, herself. It wasn't suicide but rather a closing. And yet that closing brought another one. That of her only escape route as the broken bottle spread vodka and fire across the floor. Yet Emma wasn't aware as she hit the speed dial on her phone, waiting for Pepper to answer the call.
The anger was a new sensation. Not that Emma wasn't used to irrational rage and anger but now it seemed to be a constant thing. She woke so angry she could barely see straight, spent the day fighting back the urge to physically hurt people and laid down to try and sleep with violent images in her head.
And then the day it all came crashing down.
Now Star was gone. Sean was in Ireland. The staff themselves had ran, going into hiding after the way Emma's mood had turned and twisted. The number of broken items in the house might have worried them that animate objects might well be next. They had every reason to fear.
The call came at near dusk. It should have been simple, nothing to be concerned about. Instead within the hour Emma was in her jet and on her way to New York. The Hellfire was ready, just waiting for her final approval. If that was what they wanted then they would have her exact feelings on the matter.
She was silent on the plane, not a single word said as she rode in the car to the club. Sebastian stood by the door, face impassive as Emma stepped from the car.
"Go away."
It was the first thing she'd said since she'd left Boston and her voice was rough and gravelly for it.
"Excuse me?" He snorted, already reaching for the door. Role of doorman was not what he signed on for but he'd known Emma long enough to know that this mood bode poorly for anyone and everyone.
"You heard me, Sebastian. Leave. Now." Her eyes were hidden behind dark glasses but her mouth was set into a thin line. "Not another word,' she said, jerking the door from his hand. "Go."
"Are you..." Realization dawned on his face even as she swept past him and stormed into the club. "God, why does she give it up. At least on it she's relatively sane." Waving at the driver, he slid into the car. Emma never realized what he had done. She was too busy with the club and her plans. She found the items she needed in the basement, lugging the canisters up to the first floor.
Emma was not a stupid woman and yet in that moment she was distracted. It was easy to forget things like exits and safety when you were reclaiming a life you'd never had. With Pepper and Tony in her life, she couldn't have this club. Knowing that Steve might be checking into what she was doing, she couldn't have the club. If she ever wanted to explore the life she and Sean had never had, she couldn't allow this back into her life. She had to be that other woman, the one that wasn't the White Queen. Tony had put that to her. Was she truly the White Queen or was she a persona Emma wore to hide who she truly was.
Maybe now she'd find out.
The scent of alcohol was thick around her, gin and vodka mingling with tequila and rum. It was like being doused in a Long Island Ice Tea and the very scent turned Emma's stomach. A single bottle remained, her favored Russian vodka in hand. From the mouth of the bottle hung what looked like a rag. Only someone close to Emma would know it was a torn strip of alcohol soaked leather. White leather. The trim from her cloak.
"Goodbye,' she said to no one, everyone, herself. It wasn't suicide but rather a closing. And yet that closing brought another one. That of her only escape route as the broken bottle spread vodka and fire across the floor. Yet Emma wasn't aware as she hit the speed dial on her phone, waiting for Pepper to answer the call.