[color=ed1c24][h1][u][center]Fiona Grear[/center][/u][/h1][/color]

The amount of effort to compose herself should warrant commendation. Nevermind that being hungover at 10am on perhaps the most important day of her life was unbecoming; Fiona had mustered herself enough to be presentable. Ish. Surely, that deserved some recognition. Or at the very least a pat on the back. Then again, given the roiling in her stomach... Maybe even that would be too much.

Hiccupping, gulping, she staved off the worst of it. With one small shudder and a grimace she righted herself, swiping a bit of sweat from her brow across her sleeve. If nothing else, at least this meeting would be brief, surely. Lecture? Pep-talk? She didn't know the nature of the meeting, come to think of it. Or perhaps she did. 

... Where was she again?

Listless musings were interrupted by a peacock in human skin strutting in. His words were garbled, he reeked, or maybe she did. Squinting against the light, she gave the man a once over, sniffing. Impressed? Hardly? Annoyed? Most definitely. Oh, she knew his type alright; the sort to act like they owned the place, no matter where they were. Looking down their noses at everyone else, expecting people to grovel in their mere presence. Had he a mug of ale to offer, Fiona might have groveled, but he was empty handed, and she didn't. Instead, the perfectly polite, even-keeled woman that she was, she took a few unsteady steps towards the prissy patrician, wrinkling her nose as her nostrils were assaulted by whatever overbearing perfume the man wore. Another once over, another sniff, and an unsteady hand raised, wavering inches from his face.

[color=ed1c24]"You... I..."[/color] A hiccup. [color=ed1c24]"I... I know [i]you[/i]... Ya painted fanny... Watcha thinkin', comin' here like... Like you owns us... I ought to... Oughta..."[/color] Another hiccup, and Fiona recoiled as though struck. A grimace flashed across her face, her complexion tinged with green, and she gulped, pitching forward and groaning as she raised her fists barely high enough to reach her chest. [color=ed1c24]"Fuckin' mon' then, ya wee dick... I'll... I'll do ya..."[/color]

She meant in a fight. Surely.

[@Dezuel]