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5'9" / 175.26 cm height

Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.

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TAG WITH @elisabeth

POSTED ON Mar 7, 2022 22:38:20 GMT

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A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

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FERNANDO SILPH

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Snake in the Garden

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On the outskirts of Petalburg City, right where the man-made buildings began to shrink away from the immense forests of Petalburg Woods, a cobblestone path wound towards a tiny thatched cottage lovingly wreathed in flowers and ivy. [break][break]

A painted white fence with a swinging gate designated the name of this place -- Fiorelli Floristry -- which was at once seemingly remote and entirely welcome to being found.[break][break]

Visible within the many open shutters of the cottage, the staff of the little flower shop were beginning to arise and perform their diligent work.[break][break]

In many respects, it seemed a place that belonged to another place and time -- a conspicuous lack of technology marked its interior, replaced instead with warm woods, watercolour paintings, unadorned windows, and hanging plants that flowered in every conceivable colour.[break][break]

Elisabeth and her Pokemon thrived in the early mornings. Daylight meant work, and work meant purpose.[break][break]

There were several perks that came with living where you worked, of course. The little cottage with a thatched roof forever held the lingering aroma of blooming flowers, intermingling with the scent of freshly brewed tea to make for a slow, pleasant morning. Even sweeping up the loose rose petals could be enjoyable, in its own way; her Roselia at least didn't seem to mind taking her turn with the broom today.[break][break]

"Can you look to the roses today, Daffodil?" Elisabeth called to her Bellossom, who chirped with a nod as she scampered off dutifully. In the gardens, her Goodra began to water the flowers with a gentle splash of her tail, crooning softly to the nearby Bug-type Pokemon that fluttered past. [break][break]

It was true that Elisabeth lived alone here in her tiny cottage, but her Pokemon never kept her wanting for company. She sat at her kitchen table for a moment before opening, enjoying a cup of chamomile tea while she mentally prepared her daily agenda. Off-season, at last, was upon her. This was a time to relax and deal with day-to-day orders, rather than the avalanche of Palentine's Day arrangements.[break][break]

For an hour or so, she should be able to take a moment to breathe.[break][break]

And then the bell rang, shattering the peace and quiet.

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even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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POSTED ON Mar 7, 2022 23:57:57 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

SNAKE IN THE GARDEN

TEMPTER FROM EDEN

POLISHED OXFORD heels belong to the manicured asphalts of rustboro. they have no place here, caked in the grimy undertones of earth and soil. each step against the cobblestone is another venture away from civilization. it goes against everything fernando stands for: immaculate, neat, perfection at an artificial level.

the humble abode of FIORELLI FLORISTRY reads like that of a fairytale—traditional, charming, and far from practical. to see such an estate, and it slack of machinery for processing, leaves him confounded. the labor required to meet the volume of his demands would run anyone ragged.

which makes it all the more impressive.

a step before the door gives him a moment to close his eyes. it’s a chance to inhale, to breathe with the whole of his chest, basking in scents both wild and brewed.

it smells of nature, raw and untouched, a far stretch from the tailored fragrance of perfume and candles.

charming but far cry from his preference. for, no matter how wonderous nature may be, the ingenuity and progress of man will forever be his fatal attraction. it’s lightning in a bottle, recreated, improved upon, all despite whatever the world attempts to conjure.

it brings a smile to his face. chiseled underneath his finger at the sound of elisabeth’s chimes.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

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Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.

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TAG WITH @elisabeth

POSTED ON Mar 8, 2022 0:24:34 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","bgtk"]

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A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

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FERNANDO SILPH

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Snake in the Garden

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The bell jingled on the door's hinges, and the florist's crystal blue eyes flickered upwards to meet the gaze of Fernando Silph, who inexplicably had decided to arrive at her little flower shop an entire hour before opening.[break][break]

She hadn't even finished her morning tea.[break][break]

"Mr. Silph."[break][break]

How starkly opposed, in some ways, Elisabeth was from the man entering her home.[break][break]

Where FERNANDO SILPH saw the impracticality of nature's whims, she saw a glimpse of freedom at every bend and turn. Where he saw human ingenuity, she saw its cold and unfeeling capacity for cruelty. Where he saw dirt, she saw the potential for a single seed to flourish and bloom, bringing with it the possibility of something more beautiful than what was there before.[break][break]

Elisabeth had lived for almost a decade under the constant observation of machines, designed to keep one's treasures and belongings safe and secure -- whether they wanted to be or not.[break][break]

To Fernando, technology was a fatal attraction. To Elisabeth, it had merely been fatal. How she loathed the idea of relying on machinery now for much of anything; even her mobile phone was a sort of compromise, existing primarily to oversee her orders.[break][break]

Impractical to live without technology, certainly. Inefficient, assuredly. Elisabeth preferred coping with this self-imposed hindrance nonetheless.[break][break]

"You're early for opening hours." The statement was more confused than a true rebuke, as if somehow the man couldn't read the sign on her door. Elisabeth gestured at the seat opposite her, her manners somehow not leaving her even in this most unexpected of moments. "Tea? I have just brewed some chamomile."[break]

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POSTED ON Mar 8, 2022 0:55:18 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

SNAKE IN THE GARDEN

TEMPTER FROM EDEN

THE FIRST THING he meets is her eyes. lost in the endless sea of her blues is his own, brown and unremarkable. but no matter how plain his hues, they never understate his sharpness.

his gaze hones in, laser focused. they hold an alertness that retches her by the wrist. it tugs with the same audacity that would dare to infringe on her personal time, well before opening. and despite this, his words say otherwise.

“i apologize for the inconvenience, miss fiorelli.” fox smiles and snaked tongued, “but today’s brief morning is the only free time i have this week.”

or in other words.

“and i couldn’t wait to see you.”

the tone is purposeful. not far off from the same games they play over the very phone elisabeth compromises with.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

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Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.

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POSTED ON Mar 8, 2022 1:24:06 GMT

ana fell likes this

[nospaces]

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A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

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FERNANDO SILPH

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

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'The devil is compromise.'[break][break]

The quote entered Elisabeth's mind and left it as quickly: a snippet she assuredly read in a dusty book, sometime long ago.[break][break]

Power was something that was not uttered aloud, but rather, radiated. Many thought wealth gave power automatically; Elisabeth had wealth enough for several lifetimes, but this meant nothing to her. Some believed strength, or beauty, each gave power too, but both were fleeting things. She had learned from her late husband what power was: to be in control, without being controlled by others.[break][break]

Transparent as glass, her blue eyes met his dark ones with no guile, no cunning in them -- making the pull inherent in his gaze all the more magnetic in its silent insistence for her full attention. Any drowsiness she had carried into the early morning vanished abruptly at this unexpected directness, and she placed her tea cup down, blinking slowly to break whatever spell he had sought to impart on her.[break][break]

"Today’s brief morning is the only free time I have this week."[break][break]

A promise made idly, impulsively returned back to her: "Then we are agreed to make the best use of one another's time."[break][break]

"You do not ask for much, do you? Arriving unannounced and anticipating a visit that will be worth your while -- the highlight of your week, no less." Humour, as ever, cloaked her true thoughts from view as she laughed lightly. She could play her part, too, and demur. Arising from her seat, Elisabeth brushed a stray rose petal from her skirts -- whisked there by her Roselia's cleaning, no doubt -- and walked towards him.[break][break]

"And I couldn't wait to see you."[break][break]

Her footsteps stopped, a question in her eyes.[break][break]

"And if you waste my time, Mr. Silph?"

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twenty-nine

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POSTED ON Mar 12, 2022 2:37:57 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

SNAKE IN THE GARDEN

TEMPTER FROM EDEN

“I WOULD NEVER.”

bravado is the one quality that outweighs his net worth. his confidence knows no end, compounded on years of varying experiences. whether his involvement leans toward gritty realism or sparkling fantasies, they culture him with a presentation that knows how to gauge someone’s interest.

his smile is tucked away along with his hand, stuffed in his breast pocket, retrieving a dainty little bag. it’s not larger than a tea bag.

the distance she makes brings them closer but the pause in her step lets him make up what remains. his head leans forward, casting both his height and gaze.

“did you expect me to, miss fiorelli?”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

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Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.

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TAG WITH @elisabeth

POSTED ON Mar 12, 2022 10:12:18 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","bgtk"]

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A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

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FERNANDO SILPH

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Snake in the Garden

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The shrug of her shoulders was casual, the wave of her hand dismissive as Elisabeth crossed her arms, never once breaking the man's gaze. "Life has often seen fit to disappoint me," she replied breezily, the bitter truth of the statement a briar playfully buried in pretty, harmless petals.[break][break]

Not that a man like Fernando Silph seemed susceptible to the same whims of fate, however. Standing this close, her crystal blue eyes could take in the full measure of this powerful man that loomed overhead, the confidence exuding from his every pore as if the world existed merely to serve him.[break][break]

Although first impressions, Elisabeth well knew, could be deceiving.[break][break]

"Besides," the blonde continued, a smirk dimpling her cheek as she teased, "you strike me as a man who relishes in defying a woman's expectations. Far be it from me to deny you that simple pleasure."[break][break]

Then Elisabeth's line of sight fell upon the tiny sachet in his fingertips, and her eyebrows rose. Ah. An interesting development, that.[break][break]

She didn't need to voice her curiosity aloud. Her eyes openly reflected it for her.[break]

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silph

SIR

twenty-nine

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POSTED ON Mar 27, 2022 1:37:27 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

SNAKE IN THE GARDEN

TEMPTER FROM EDEN

“DEPENDS ON THE EXPECTATIONS.”

but that’s not a far off reading. fernando still relishes in putting others down. his choice in prey is select, but to smear them truly and utterly is a pleasure far removed from something he can sate himself with on demand. that’s what makes it so delectable.

he dangles the bag in front of her. gives her a moment to unwrap her arms, should she choose. it’s for her, after all.

the seeds within his bag rattle endlessly. a small warning for what’s inside: every florist’s dream, whether they know it or not.

“gracieda seeds.”

the same plant he had given her for their speed date.

“i didn’t think they’d exist. these flowers grow from my shaymin but the flower never releases seeds. they just regrow from the pokemon’s fur.”

until now.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

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Scarlet

Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.

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TAG WITH @elisabeth

POSTED ON Mar 27, 2022 11:41:44 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","bgtk"]

[attr="class","bgtk-top"]

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A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

[attr="class","bgtk-mid"]

[attr="class","bgtk-mid2"]

[attr="class","bgtk-img"]

[attr="class","bgtk-left"]

FERNANDO SILPH

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Snake in the Garden

[attr="class","bgtk-post"]

"So I can see," Elisabeth replied simply as FERNANDO SILPH named the little pouch in his hands. "Peculiar how such a rare blossom has come into fashion so recently, isn't it?" A sense that the florist was supposed to extend a hand to him was quickly dismissed as she placed her hands behind her back instead, considering his stoic expression.[break][break]

Let's not jump to conclusions, now.[break][break]

Men like Fernando Silph were only so generous, Elisabeth knew. The little black Slateport card had been cute, but in direct response to labour she had completed on Silph Co.'s behalf. The direct phone number had been a continuation of an enjoyable, harmless flirtation at the speed dating event; it was an invitation at playing more of a dangerous game they both reveled in, like hunters bored of always facing easy sport.[break][break]

Gracidea seeds, rare as they were, were not something most would part with easily. Nor did Fernando need to, for that matter.[break][break]

"I want to show you something," Elisabeth said instead, turning around with a swish of her skirt. A hand beckoned as as she swung open the back door of her cottage, turning to glance over her shoulder as she gestured to the endless field of blossoming flowers. "My garden."[break][break]

Where she had planted a Gracidea seed mere days ago.

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even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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twenty-nine

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POSTED ON Mar 27, 2022 23:47:31 GMT

SNAKE IN THE GARDEN

TEMPTER FROM EDEN

THE SCALES TIP IN AN OPPOSITE DIRECTION. what had been his reason for visiting quickly escalates into a game of show and tell. not that he minds. given the nature of his curiosity, he follows hook, line, and sinker.

“impressive.”

eyes scour her fields in an attempt to find the only flower that perks his interest.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

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Scarlet

Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.

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TAG WITH @elisabeth

POSTED ON Mar 28, 2022 10:47:16 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","bgtk"]

[attr="class","bgtk-top"]

[attr="class","bgtk-top2"]

A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

[attr="class","bgtk-mid"]

[attr="class","bgtk-mid2"]

[attr="class","bgtk-img"]

[attr="class","bgtk-left"]

FERNANDO SILPH

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Snake in the Garden

[attr="class","bgtk-post"]

It was with faint surprise and pleasure that Elisabeth noticed FERNANDO SILPH followed her easily outside without protest -- complimenting her garden as he did so, no less.[break][break]

The moment the sunlight fell on her face, three silhouettes came into view: a Vivillon, a Beautifly, and a Butterfree, all stirred from their pollinating of the flowerbeds. "Good morning," Elisabeth said to them with a laugh as they winged curiously around her, surprised by this change in her predictable routine.[break][break]

Of them, it was her Vivillon, Petunia, who noticed the man by her side first. The pink butterfly alighted directly before his face, blocking all view of the garden with her wings as she stared at him with huge, inquisitive eyes.[break][break]

"Petal!" The florist's exasperated, long-suffering sigh suggested this was not an uncommon occurrence between them. "Manners."[break][break]

The Vivillon obediently flitted away, the other Bug-type Pokemon following in her wake, and Elisabeth laughed again. This time, the sound was tinged with slight mortification. "I am sorry. They get excitable, sometimes. I don't often bring company out here."[break][break]

Not an admission Elisabeth had anticipated making today, but ah, well.[break][break]

The blonde brushed it aside swiftly, making her way to the tiny plot of land that Fernando's keen gaze had spotted from the moment the door to her garden opened wide. The little Gracidea plant was a sturdy stem now, with leaves drinking in sunlight, but its pink bud was tightly furled shut -- waiting for the right, perfect moment to flower.[break][break]

"I planted this a few days ago," Elisabeth said, pausing in front of the cultivated plot. "Never worked with a seed like this before, however. If you believe the stories, it requires more than regular gardening to flourish, but gratitude as well."[break][break]

She threw an easy glance over her shoulder at Fernando and smiled. "I suppose it's a difficult thing to measure. Dare I ask your thoughts on gratitude, Mr. Silph?"

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even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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POSTED ON Apr 2, 2022 2:58:44 GMT

SNAKE IN THE GARDEN

TEMPTER FROM EDEN

FERNANDO KNOWS HIS PLACE. most times, it’s front and center. but there are aslo moments when the best position is to be left behind, quiet and observant. here, in the sanctity of her own garden, he respects the dichotomy of their dynamic.

his camouflaged is well suited: a blooming wallflower, hung on the silence of uncertainty.

“indeed.”

only when the bug pokemon leave does he anticipate following her deeper into eden’s roots. each step is careful. mindful of what lies underneath.

path or not, one unsightly misstep may spell an end to his morning detour.

“an interesting tale,” his smile hides the skepticism in his heart. after all, weirder tales have been proven true.

“a hard measure to prove—”

MISTY TERRAIN plumes from his sleeves. it coils into an abstract bracelet as he mulls her words.

“but certainly one worth some thought.”

he squints at the sight of its stem. as if trying to discern its health without leaning in.

“i take it your gratitude bodes well for its future?”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

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Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.

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POSTED ON Apr 2, 2022 8:23:27 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

[nospaces]

[attr="class","bgtk"]

[attr="class","bgtk-top"]

[attr="class","bgtk-top2"]

A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

[attr="class","bgtk-mid"]

[attr="class","bgtk-mid2"]

[attr="class","bgtk-img"]

[attr="class","bgtk-left"]

FERNANDO SILPH

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Snake in the Garden

[attr="class","bgtk-post"]

The plume of rosy-tinged MISTY TERRAIN drew Elisabeth's attention, her blue eyes following the manifestation of the pink coil of smoke as it drew about the councilman's wrist. It was one thing to be faintly aware you were in the presence of an Avatar, and another matter entirely to witness proof of it firsthand.[break][break]

Not the time to pry. In general, best not to pry at all.[break][break]

The less we know about one another, the better.[break][break]

Instead of examining the man in front of her for unspoken answers to unspoken questions, Elisabeth turned to examine the budding flower before her instead. "I'm certainly more grateful than I ever remember being in recent memory. Whether that is enough gratitude to merit a flower's blossoming, I suppose, remains to be seen. The bud looks healthy enough, presently, if shy."[break][break]

A memory, brief and fleeting, came to mind of Martín del Mar and the Shaymin that had appeared at the end of his bridge of flowers. The pure, unadulterated bliss of his gratitude had been intoxicating and infectious, drawing out expressions of emotions in her that had long been dormant.[break][break]

The thought brought a wry smile to her lips. "Truthfully, Mr. Silph, I am not a particularly effervescent person. Perhaps what feels intense to me, is mild to another."[break][break]

Perhaps someone as seemingly stoic as FERNANDO SILPH could relate. Although still waters run deep, as the old saying went.[break][break]

"And what of you? Would your Gracidea flower, do you think, if watered from the font of your own gratitude?"

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even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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played by

spiral

silph

SIR

twenty-nine

august 12th

saffron

oppressive

silph co. ceo

council member

1997 height

POWER IS TAKEN, NEVER GIVEN—SO TAKE WHAT YOU ARE OWED

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9,111 posts

DOLLARS

part of

TAG WITH @silph

POSTED ON Apr 3, 2022 21:04:14 GMT

BARNABY FINCH and Elisabeth Fiorelli like this

SNAKE IN THE GARDEN

TEMPTER FROM EDEN

“RECENTLY,” he draws, hinting at an implication.

fernando remains unaware of her other exploits. to track and apply it to one of the many, if not infinite, references it could mean would be a fool’s errand. so he keeps it person: between them.

“my own gratitude.”

he looks inward when she asks. as if reflecting on her question to answer it both honestly and completely.

this performance—acting coy—is solely for theatrics. all to sell the sentiment that much deeper as he looks to wedge himself into her emotional ties. empty flatter means little but when you can convince someone else that it’s real—

his answer is ready. he knows it since the very moment she asked. but only after seemingly mulling about it does he look back at her.

only her.

“yes.”

his smile is faint. personable. it lacks the same polish he holds in public, the same one that greeted her this morning and introduced himself at the contest hall.

it’s not nearly as photogenic as the ones that line magazines and television. wouldn’t hold a candle to the one he has prepared for BARNABY FINCH’s morning show. but it reads ‘fernando'.

coarse, unable to commit. out of place against muscles that only know how to practice a perfect pose or relax into a judgmental scowl.

“with my recent gratitude, i think it would bloom quite wonderfully.”

it’s the same smile he hides behind the other end of a phone.

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

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played by

Scarlet

Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.

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4,757 posts

DOLLARS

part of

TAG WITH @elisabeth

POSTED ON Apr 3, 2022 22:34:16 GMT

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A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

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FERNANDO SILPH

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Snake in the Garden

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Cynicism colored most of Elisabeth's perception of the world, save for here in her garden.[break][break]

The entirety of this place had been cultivated in her image: the soil tilled, and the seeds planted and watered, all by her own hands. All existence here lived and died at her command, whether flourishing in her garden above the ground or rotting in the underworld of her basement.[break][break]

As FERNANDO SILPH smiled at her, however, that roseate ring of mist still visible on his wrist, a crack presented itself in this Eden of her own making -- a reminder of an element that was not under her immediate control. [break][break]

“With my recent gratitude, I think it would bloom quite wonderfully.”[break][break]

The very act of being observed changed something in the object being witnessed, didn't it?[break][break]

Elisabeth couldn't translate this subtle change in Fernando's demeanor, the strange shift from the distant professional to something personable. Most of all, she didn't know what to make of the way he smiled at her -- no, for her.[break][break]

Something he had most assuredly not done in the contest hall, the day they had first met.[break][break]

"Do you think so?" Elisabeth said in reply, her tone slightly evasive. Not coy so much as questioning.[break][break]

It was one matter to play this game miles apart from the safety of a phoneline, and another to do so in person without a timer to intervene before the stakes got too high.[break][break]

And this little spark between them had been a game, in so many ways -- one that she figured he had indulged in out of the boredom and ennui that plagued all powerful men, inevitably made restless when the world handed them all their desires on a silver platter.[break][break]

A widowed Kalosian florist from Petalburg made for an interesting conversation topic, but not much more than that. Things had been different when she was a pretty bauble hidden behind a case labeled 'do not touch,' where her husband's business partners had smudged the glass with eager, curious fingerprints.[break][break]

There was nothing much about Elisabeth now to entice someone of Fernando's rank, other than fleeting novelty. That knowledge was part of what emboldened her.[break][break]

And yet, here he was, Gracidea seeds in hand. [break][break]

"Let's see if that holds true, then."[break][break]

The easy confidence that she had displayed in her cottage returned with these words, a hand extended towards him as she met his smile, at last, with a genuine one of her own. A teasing lilt accompanied her reply, as if offering a challenge.[break][break]

"Plant your Gracidea here in my garden, and let's see if your gratitude is as boundless as you claim."

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even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish