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TAG WITH @gavin

POSTED ON Mar 22, 2022 0:11:49 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

The ruse will hold up well enough, in part because the politician's assistant was a Rocket plant who'd been working on it for months. All Gavin and his partner must do is get through the doors to the office of ivory-and-glass, and they'd be locked behind the pair for them to do as they will with their unsuspecting victim.

There had been a different partner in mind, but Gavin had summoned Elisabeth Fiorelli as a replacement.

He meets her at a café a couple blocks from the mark's property, already seated and sipping at some fragrant Kalosian tea when she arrives. When he looks up from the cup, it's with silver eyes divorced of glasses. His hair is chestnut, long and tied back.

He lets his voice convey the familiarity, as he greets her with, "You're early." It's impossible to tell if he's pleased or annoyed; his expression is placid, unyielding. "You've brought it?"

He sips at his tea; it's hot, scalding a path down his throat.

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 22, 2022 14:01:47 GMT

Cillian Quinn likes this

[nospaces]

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A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

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Cillian Quinn

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Rocket Recruitment II

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

The Galarian ID Elisabeth had procured worked, in many ways, quite fortuitously for her.[break][break]

It hadn't been difficult to fit into the mold of this other dark-haired woman; street fashions in Galar had proven informative, decidedly modern and sharp, and a far cry from the flowy fabrics and traditional feminine silhouettes that Elisabeth usually selected for herself.[break][break]

An expensive, sleek black wing cascaded down her back in soft ringlets, the icy glare of her blue eyes as bright as ever as she met Cillian Quinn's coolly. Only when the flash of recognition sparked in his gaze did she feel comfortable enough to sit opposite him, smiling.[break][break]

Her voice was devoid of its usual Kalosian lilt, instead clipped and succinct in reply: "Of course." It was an easy answer to both statements. Elisabeth had arrived early because she valued Gavin's time, and she had of course brought the requested item, because she was nothing if not diligent.[break][break]

A pale hand reached into her purse, drawing forth a tiny vial. Sparkling in the light, it looked like nothing more than a pretty bauble, but Elisabeth knew Gavin would recognize it for the damning instrument of pain that it was. Either a slow torture or a slow death was guaranteed to whomever drank its dark contents, spared only by the antidote that Elisabeth had likewise brought with her as a contingency plan.[break][break]

Mercy, somehow, felt an unlikely part of their agenda today.[break][break]

"Are we in a rush," Elisabeth continued breezily as she placed the vial in his palm, "or do I have time to order tea?"[break][break]

The nonchalance of her question belied her nerves. There was a part of Elisabeth, however faint, that always felt the flutter of panic before missions like this one. That feared the monster she had cultivated within herself would not emerge when necessary, but be replaced instead by a frightened girl terrified of the shadows she had found herself trapped in.[break][break]

A silly fear, that. The more time when on, the less that girl seemed to exist in Elisabeth at all. No, perhaps it was not a fear of being weak in the slightest -- it might be more accurate to say it was a fear of her own excitement.[break][break]

That dark coil of thrill sang in her heart like a violin, aching with anticipation for the reprisal of a rising, bittersweet chorus. Whatever cruel task Cillian Quinn had in store for her, there was a secret part of her that delighted in the depravity.[break][break]

Why, she looked forward to it, even.

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even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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the Harbinger

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TAG WITH @gavin

POSTED ON Mar 22, 2022 14:58:04 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

Gavin extends his right hand to curl long fingers around the vial, tucking it into a pocket. His left rests against his thigh, under the table, concealing the horrible scarring from passers-by. Leather gloves had been carefully removed and set aside so as to drink his tea.

"You're early," he repeats. "There's time enough."

His own cup is half-drained, still steaming, the fragrant scent of it spicing the air.

"Have a look at this."

He smiles, looking down at his phone as if he'd seen something funny. Then he slides it across the table, that she might get a better look. On the screen, a simple message: My name is Thomas Finnegan. I go by Finn. Grey eyes blink coolly at her.

"He'll wait on us. His assistant has cleared his schedule."

Their meeting was to be off-the-books, something common among corrupt politicians who wished to hide their dirty laundry. All the better for the Rockets whose presence wouldn't be recorded.

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 23, 2022 20:45:31 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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Cillian Quinn

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Rocket Recruitment II

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

As Elisabeth peeked at the phone in Cillian Quinn's hand, she let out a sharp laugh, one lacking in musicality. "That's funny. Reminds me of something I saw earlier, actually."[break][break]

She brought forward her own phone, smiling as she shared a clandestine message of her own: 'Carmilla Webb. Webb for short -- we're colleagues, after all.'[break][break]

With a languid snap of her wrist, 'Carmilla' called over a waiter and requested a hot cup of chai. "I like to arrive early," she said placidly, her blue eyes flickering up to meet his. "Nothing like being on the wrong footing from the start of a meeting to ruin your day."[break][break]

A private smile, sly and knowing, briefly creased her lips.[break][break]

Her drink arrived before their promised companion, and the dark-haired woman drank it slowly, unhurriedly, like this was just an ordinary, everyday rendezvous between regular people.[break][break]

"How generous of him to share his whole day with us. You'll want to do the talking, I should think?"[break][break]

An eyebrow arched, awaiting an answer. It felt safe to assume so, but assumptions were hardly something Elisabeth felt comfortable with. Particularly when it came to Rocket business.

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

even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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the Harbinger

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october 28th

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TAG WITH @gavin

POSTED ON Mar 31, 2022 1:37:49 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

Gavin glances at the phone, the soft huff of laughter only somewhat false. Webb. There was humour in that, with the black widow sitting across him.

"Mm, I'd agree." He takes another sip of his tea. "There's nothing like a good first impression."

His smile curves, mimicking the devilish humour he'd displayed in her floristry. He had known by her reaction, however well she'd suppressed it, that he had made quite the impression himself. Now, it was her turn.

"Oh, no, I'm not much of a talker. I'll be there to put pressure on him to close the deal, but I think you're more than capable of taking the lead. Unless I'm mistaken?"

There's a glitter of challenge in his gaze. Are you up for it?

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 Apr 2, 2022 22:13:14 GMT

[nospaces]

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A ROSE BY[break]
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would remain as sweet and thorned

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Cillian Quinn

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Rocket Recruitment II

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

"Oh, no, I'm not much of a talker. I'll be there to put pressure on him to close the deal, but I think you're more than capable of taking the lead. Unless I'm mistaken?"[break][break]

Well, Elisabeth, you did ask. No sense in getting upset because you don't like the answer.[break][break]

Elisabeth blinked once as she lowered her cup, her smile never faltering even as it didn't quite touch her eyes. "It would be my pleasure," she said, her calm tone masking her surprise. Interrogations under duress were one thing. Subtly working your way to kidnapping and torture was quite another.[break][break]

Though it wasn't failing in the task that concerned Elisabeth, so much as how that failure would be received by Cillian Quinn. The smirk on his lips said everything she had to know regarding that possibility.[break][break]

"When do we head out?" she asked, her tone even and conversational.

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

even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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thorn

the Harbinger

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TAG WITH @gavin

POSTED ON Apr 5, 2022 23:30:56 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

If she's upset, she conceals it well. He studies her for a long moment, searching for cracks in the façade and finding none. Either she was all right with the shifting circumstances, or she was a very good actress. Both were good.

He drops his voice lower.

"If at any point you wish to back out before we're underway, let me know."

It could, perhaps, be interpreted as a trap... but for Gavin's part, he means it. Better to adjust his plans than to have them fail on account of her inability to follow through, after all. Not every operative was suited to every task. Just because he assumes this might be up her alley doesn't mean he's right. He's certainly been wrong before.

"Whenever you're ready." He drains the last of his tea.

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 Apr 7, 2022 22:43:20 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"]

Cillian Quinn

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Rocket Recruitment II

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Elisabeth had no intention of taking the offer to escape. She drained the last of her tea before replying, her gaze cool. "No time like the present. Shall we?"[break][break]

The political contact in question was located in one of the taller skyscrapers in the Upper District, its chic penthouse office reeking of lavish donor funds that built it brick by beautiful glass brick. Elisabeth detested it on sight, walking through the entrance with all the poise of one who had seen many other buildings like this, and had good reason for her distaste of them.[break][break]

"Good afternoon," she said to the receptionist, her manners impeccable and smile perfectly manicured. "We are here for an appointment with Mr. Jameson?"[break][break]

The clacking of fingers on the keyboard punctuated the silence that followed, before the prim woman arose with a clipboard held to her chest. A single eyebrow lifted as she appraised the dark-haired woman that had addressed her. "Mr. Jameson spoke with a man on the phone."[break][break]

Elisabeth's smile didn't waver. "So he did. That would be my colleague." She indicated Cillian Quinn, whom the receptionist seemed to have missed at first glance. A tension abated at the belated realisation, as if a pressing issue had been finally resolved.[break][break]

"My apologies. You must be his 3 o'clock," the receptionist said slowly, assessing them both with beady eyes; whatever she saw, evidently, contented her enough to lead them both forward.[break][break]

Strange individuals wandering in must be nothing of note, Elisabeth thought to herself idly as they advanced. How corrupt is this office, exactly?

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TAG WITH @gavin

POSTED ON Apr 11, 2022 10:03:01 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

Where Elisabeth is charming and perfectly polite, Gavin exudes an aura of bored indifference — as though no amount of money in the world would be enough for him to want to be here, and as if the secretary and everyone else in this disgustingly decadent building were beneath him. He barely affords the receptionist a glance when Elisabeth indicates his presence.

In that glance, he takes in everything he can about her, including a name printed neatly on a little tag. Lenora. He'll remember that, should anything go awry.

They're shown to an elevator, a sharply-dressed woman pressing a button as soon as Gavin and Elisabeth have stepped inside. Gavin acts as if they're strangers, not so much as looking her in the eye, but this was their inside woman.

One wall of the elevator is clear glass, and the lobby floor grows small beneath them as they ascend to the top floor.

"Your 3 o'clock, sir."

And then they're alone with their target. A tall, balding man with a broad chest but weak muscles suggesting little time spend doing any sort of labour. Clean hands free of callouses. He reeked of old money, though the office itself smelled sweet — perhaps the flowers on the desk.

Showtime, Elisabeth Fiorelli.

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 Apr 17, 2022 10:43:02 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

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

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

Cillian Quinn

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Rocket Recruitment II

[attr="class","bgtk-post"]"Get on with it, then. Who is it this time?" their target croaked out, though he paused as Elisabeth approached him, the embodiment of grace as she smoothed the waters with casual introductions.[break][break]

"Mr. Jameson. An absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope we have not kept you waiting?"[break][break]

Elisabeth wasn't blind to her appearance and what few charms it afforded her, such as it was. If the smile she had given the receptionist was polite, the one she offered to this repugnant man was blinding.[break][break]

"My associate Mr. Finnegan and I are honored you have made time for us in your busy schedule. Miss Webb, at your service."[break][break]

No wedding ring today. She extended her gloved hand, shaking his as she met his squinty eyes openly and with manufactured warmth. It was an art she had perfected in many dinners seated across from the CEOs her late husband had wined and dined, seated beside him as a pretty prop to encourage conversation and loosen tongues into sharing too many secrets at the table.[break][break]

"I confess, I have been looking forward to this meeting between us for some time. Your impressive reputation precedes you."[break][break]

Unhappy men were always willing to believe a beautiful woman was interested in them, if you gave them enough rope to hang themselves with.[break][break]

"A pleasure, then, Miss Webb," he echoed, seemingly placated for the moment as he took her hand in his. The touch lingered a few seconds longer than it ought to have as he caught sight of Cillian Quinn beside her. "What brings you here again?" the man asked, caution entering his tone.[break][break]

"Your welfare, as it happens."[break][break]

Elisabeth's voice remained friendly, and although it was devoid of its Kalosian lilt, there was nonetheless a pleasant musicality to her words. Before she continued in her line of questioning, however, her attention briefly turned to the vase of flowers on the desk. Lull him into a false sense of security. Charm him into being free with you.[break][break]

"My, what beautiful flowers you have here. A gift from your wife, perhaps?"

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

even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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thorn

the Harbinger

he/him

october 28th

circhester, galar

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the harbinger

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TAG WITH @gavin

POSTED ON Apr 18, 2022 17:24:11 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

That Elisabeth gives their names without hesitation is Gavin's first clue: Mr. Jameson, or Norman Jameson as his gold, embossed nameplate identified him, would not be leaving this room alive. An alias was an expensive thing, not to be wasted without cause.

Her smile was a radiant thing; it might have been enough to stir Gavin himself, were he the type to fall so quickly. He is not, but it seems that Jameson is. There is a hunger in the beady eyes of the politician, and it seems he must repeatedly remind himself where to look. After shifting his gaze forcibly from Elisabeth's more physical assets, his gaze catches Gavin's and falters.

Forgot I was here, did you?

Gavin doesn't smile.

Jameson seems unsettled, but quickly snaps his attention back to Elisabeth when she speaks, seemingly relieved to have the excuse.

"My, ah — my wife?" Only then does the man seem to remember his wedding ring, twisting the band around his finger. "Ah, no. No. These were from my secretary. Leona? You'll have met her, downstairs..."

Lenora, Gavin recalls. He's lying. They were from the wife. Gavin could see the little card tucked among the blooms, as well as a tiny vial pushed well into the dirt. It was only visible if you knew to look for it.

"They're lovely," Gavin drawls in a bored tone, reaching out as if to caress the petals. In a swift movement, the vial is tucked up against his palm and Gavin retracts his hands to his side. "But we're not here to talk about flowers."

He's the bad cop, after all. Time to apply the pressure.

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 Apr 18, 2022 18:13:02 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"]

Cillian Quinn

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Rocket Recruitment II

[attr="class","bgtk-post"]Names built trust. Anonymous faces invited suspicion. Elisabeth didn't care if the man lived or died, only that he gave them what they needed before he was ultimately disposed of.[break][break]

"No," Elisabeth said in pleasant agreement, her blue eyes cutting towards Cillian Quinn as he spoke. The vial's procurement was noted in silence. "And I am certain your time is very valuable indeed, Norman."[break][break]

Titles formed barriers. It was one reason that Elisabeth relied on them so often in her personal life. Lifting one was a form of intimacy, a subtle connection woven between two individuals. He didn't correct her into using his, and that said enough.[break][break]

It was time to apply some pressure, herself.[break][break]

"I will cut to the chase. I fear we come bearing unfortunate news regarding your son, and his standing at Slateport University." This caused the man's eyes to widen briefly, before he composed himself. "We have found some... irregularities in the school's donations from your office. An unkind reader may see it as, what is the expression? 'Bought silence.'"[break][break]

A manila folder was procured elegantly from her briefcase, pressed on the desk between them. Its lurid contents were gobbled up in moments by his anxious gaze, turning from her to the folder and back to her again.[break][break]

"A scandal like this would be very unfortunate indeed, for a man in your position." Her tone conveyed sympathy, as if she were doing this out of some goodwill, rather than for blackmailing purposes. "It seemed prudent to speak to you directly, given the sensitivity of the matter. You'll answer our questions, of course?"[break][break]

Her words possessed an almost hopeful lilt, inviting him to correct such unjust slander.[break][break]

"I would also understand if you wished to dismiss your staff, lest someone overhear such dangerous rumors in your own office. I can wait before we continue."[break][break]

A threat of further escalation, veiled as a kindness.

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the Harbinger

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october 28th

circhester, galar

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TAG WITH @gavin

POSTED ON Apr 19, 2022 9:36:43 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli likes this

Oh, she's good.

Gavin is content to remain quiet as Elisabeth slowly weaves her web around their unsuspecting target. Yes, let Jameson think that they were on his side. That Elisabeth does the talking gives the impression that she's the one in charge, which seems to further put their mark at ease. It was unfortunately a common occurrence for a woman's threat to be underestimated.

Emma had taught him never to underestimate a pretty face.

"I have nothing to hide," Jameson insists.

"Then we shouldn't have a problem, should we?"

Beady eyes snap to Gavin once more. The presence of the brooding, unfriendly individual in contrast to Elisabeth's sweetness seems to keep him on edge, but still with enough hope that this beautiful young woman wanted nothing but the best for him.

"No, of course not. But first — my staff."

He calls down to his secretary, calls her Leona. She doesn't correct him. When they've all been told to go home for the day (with full pay, of course, so as not to arouse any disturbance), the politician redirects his attention.

"Could you close those blinds?" Gavin grumbles. "The sun is shining directly into my eyes. It's fouling my mood."

And we wouldn't want that, would we?

It seems, at first, that Jameson might protest. But after a brief glare, the politician gets up to obey — and in a quick flourish, the contents of the vial are emptied into the target's drink.

"Thank you," Gavin says when Jameson sits back down, and even manages a smile. "Shall we?"

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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POSTED ON Apr 19, 2022 12:25:10 GMT

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A ROSE BY[break]
ANY NAME

would remain as sweet and thorned

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Cillian Quinn

+Outfit[break]
+Hairstyle

[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Rocket Recruitment II

[attr="class","bgtk-post"]Elisabeth recognised the contents of the vial well enough, for she had introduced ana fell to them all too recently: Roselia poison, distilled from their flower's thorns.[break][break]

Devil's Breath. A poor man's truth serum. Increase the dosage, and the instrument of torture could well become a murderous one.[break][break]

For now, it loosened his tongue a little. Or would, the moment he drank from his cup.[break][break]

And nervous man that he was, he took a generous sip indeed to parch his dry lips.[break][break]

"Thank you, Norman. Your cooperation is deeply appreciated, and relieving, if I may say so."[break][break]

Where to begin? Elisabeth's hand lightly touched the sheaf of papers in his hands, the scent of her perfume wafting towards him with her sudden close proximity.[break][break]

"Are you familiar with this list of names?" she asked, her crystal blue eyes meeting his. "To my understanding, these are all the individuals who were related to the... scandal, in question."[break][break]

Black market drugs. With rich boys, wasn't it always some variant of that? Drugs, battery, assault -- idle crime simply because they had idle hands for the devil to play with?[break][break]

The Rockets involved had merely been fleecing a rich mark, giving him in return the manufactured distractions he needed to keep his wasteful mind occupied. That changed when the school got involved, however, and a rich and powerful daddy pulled golden strings to hang them with. Most were grunts, but even so, the sheer number compromised in the matter had put a significant damper on smuggling operations in that area of Hoenn.[break][break]

"We haven't been able to find any of these individuals, however, for cross-examination. It is as if they have disappeared completely from the region. Does this concern you, or should we assume them to be--" She clicked her tongue, offering a sly smile before she gracefully offered, "--perpetually detained from an audience? The latter, I imagine, would work well to your favor."[break][break]

In other words: were these MIA Rockets alive or dead?

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even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish

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thorn

the Harbinger

he/him

october 28th

circhester, galar

demisexual

underboss

the harbinger

6'3" height

I want corruption, I think I'm the devil in disguise.

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