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◎ : Getting into a big argument or fight
@profoundly-naive@blastdollybonnet
Rhoda was a mouthy woman. A sting was tobe at the tip of her tongue coupled with a well-thought retort. The situation earning this could be casual, not actually deserving disapproving remarks or sarcastic agreement. But ‘she didn’t care.’ Rhoda was a mean woman. This notion should have been evident in the way she stood, the way she held her lazed (judgmental) gaze. Women such as her were the women with plenty to say when the heavy clouds, racked with radiation, reeled over the horizon.Congratulations. This word was said ina less than sincere fashion, but not from her red lips. After all, if Rhoda said it her smile would have been more faltering. Her expression would have been teetering on frustration rather than ‘boredom’ for the usual stupid bullshit. This smaller woman that stood before her–she smiled. Had her eyelids pulled up. Cheesy, pleasant, but the pain and anger flashed in those blue orbs. It was only a matter of time when her true emotions came to light;‘I begged you to stay on House’s side, you refused to!’And then the courier would say something. “You knowwhat you’re doing.”And then the courier would pierce together something.‘Everybody gets what they want, yeah?’ Rhoda never liked feeling as though she was the one who was without a defensive line. Shenever liked feeling as though she was the obviously lesser intelligent personin the conversation. So the taller of the two finally threw out her first major line, as if it held theanswers to every complaint held:“–itwas sacrifice.” “Sacrifice?” The word was repeated with no sympathies. For what did this woman, stemming fromthe Middle of Nowhere knowabout fear, pain, sacrifice? The upcoming words were to only grow more fierce.Full of more disagreements and disappointments. Even when Rhoda found onestatement to swing out, heart-to-heart advisory from the past; it was notspoken in smugness. Nor confidence. Because, if Rhoda was truly smug and confident in finding a way to one-upBonnet, she wouldn’t have afterward sat in the Lucky 38. In solitude, pouring whiskey,wondering what she had done to both of their lives. And wondering where did this ‘rathole-Vegas bullshit’ get them both in the end?
