[For years this urge had just been... something itching in the back of his mind. It was not exactly that he wanted violence, so much as whatever part of him was supposed to reel in his first impulses was missing. It was something he learned to control. To feed into his other passions. Obsessions.
Shortly before Manon and Rody, that control had started to slip. Those damn reviews. The skittish eyes of his sous chefs. Everyone around him could sense it on instinct. Terrorizing his employees, slapping Rody-
-killing Manon.
Oh there was something beautiful in giving in to these needs. To eat and eat and eat. Why shouldn't he? Why shouldn't he take everything he was denied- those around him never appreciated their lusts. So he would make them his own.
And now this... this thing... was mocking him with it's own fulfillment, when his own had so cruelly denied him, marinating him in tears and blood and cooking oil and leaving his wanting-
(the fucking tease)
This thing waves a steak under his nose when he was still So. Fucking. Hungry. Starving. Emaciated from the lack. Never full.
He hates it so much.
So, he can't be judged, he thinks, for lunging at it. No weapon- he can't even begin to think that far ahead. All he wants to to tear it's throat out before it can insult what little pride Rody hadn't burned out of him]
no subject
Shortly before Manon and Rody, that control had started to slip. Those damn reviews. The skittish eyes of his sous chefs. Everyone around him could sense it on instinct. Terrorizing his employees, slapping Rody-
-killing Manon.
Oh there was something beautiful in giving in to these needs. To eat and eat and eat. Why shouldn't he? Why shouldn't he take everything he was denied- those around him never appreciated their lusts. So he would make them his own.
And now this... this thing... was mocking him with it's own fulfillment, when his own had so cruelly denied him, marinating him in tears and blood and cooking oil and leaving his wanting-
(the fucking tease)
This thing waves a steak under his nose when he was still So. Fucking. Hungry. Starving. Emaciated from the lack. Never full.
He hates it so much.
So, he can't be judged, he thinks, for lunging at it. No weapon- he can't even begin to think that far ahead. All he wants to to tear it's throat out before it can insult what little pride Rody hadn't burned out of him]