Petalburg Cottage [TW]

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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Scarlet

Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

Unattached

Black Widow

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

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

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

Petalburg Cottage [TW]

POSTED ON Nov 21, 2022 6:56:26 GMT

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[attr="class","elisatest"]

[attr="class","elisatestbody"]

ACT II: Thorns of Spite[break]

"Remplaçable"

[break]

She learned gardening from her mother, but toxicology came from another source: another mother, one that neither wanted her as a daughter, nor who was wanted by her in return.

(CW: Poisoning & Allusions to Domestic Abuse)

[break][break]

SPOILER: Click to show

"I think you enjoy suffering," her mother-in-law stated unprompted. These teas in the Dowager's parlor were a nicety that Elisabeth was forced to endure, a ritual that implied a truce between the two women when in reality, the war waged between them was as palpable as the one that Elisabeth shared with the man she was supposedly meant to love.[break][break]

"What leads you to that conclusion?" Elisabeth asked coolly. A defensive instinct reared itself in her, but she fought to suppress it. [break][break]

She'd learned enough times by now not to reveal weakness of feeling; it was only a way of showing your enemy your weak points, and she had already given that family too many insights into her vulnerability as it was.[break][break]

The older woman's mouth split into a wide, almost manic grin, the Salazzle at her feet mirroring it in kind. "Well, there are only so many explanations I can give for your behavior. That might be the kindest one."[break][break]

"I wasn't aware I fascinated you so much, Countess," was Elisabeth's icy retort.[break][break]

Her mother-in-law snorted. "Rest assured, you don't. Too many things bore me as of late. I settle for whatever mundane topics I can these days, your marriage to my son included."[break][break]

The tea proved distracting. It tasted bitter, Elisabeth thought distantly -- a little off, a little too harsh.[break][break]

Odd.[break][break]

"Don't misunderstand me, child. I appreciate what improvement I see in you. You are no longer some distraught banshee weeping and wailing at all hours, and I am thankful every day for it." [break][break]

Malice glittered in the woman's beady eyes, watching for any reaction to her provocation.[break][break]

Elisabeth's expression was stone-faced in answer. "Thank you," she said at last, with words so polite they lacked all feeling.[break][break]

"Even so, I wonder at how often you flaunt your wedding vows. Don't deny it; nothing is truly private in a manor of this size, and you know it as well as I do. Everything that happens under this roof," the Dowager Countess said, drawing out the phrase with heavy implication, "does not go unseen."[break][break]

"Then it astonishes me that my actions are the ones that concern you," Elisabeth replied, her words harsh with accusation,"when you are surely aware of my husband's behavior. And all that it entails."[break][break]

A throbbing headache began to pound in her mind, radiating behind her eyes with sudden stabs of pain. Elisabeth raised a hand to her forehead, wincing.[break][break]

Coiled on the ground, the Salazzle watched the blonde's plight with rapt interest.[break][break]

"You aren't the only one who has suffered an unhappy marriage," her mother-in-law sneered. "You aren't a martyr for that. Do you suppose my husband and I were happy? We learned how to tolerate one another. You'd do well to do the same."[break][break]

It was getting difficult to focus. The words were blurring, drifting in and out. Only the anger remained, the indignation and the misery and the disdain. "It's better than lying to myself," she said quietly. "It's better than not seeing him as he is."[break][break]

"Is that why you provoke him? Is that why you go out of your way to anger him, knowing full well what will happen if you do? Is this meant to comfort you in some stupid, infantile way?" The laughter was mad, cackling, incredulous. "Arceus. You're cutting off your nose to spite your face."[break][break]

Elisabeth's hands shook with a faint tremor, the cup on the table blurring with her vision.[break][break]

"You make the mistake of thinking you are special, child, when you are entirely replaceable."[break][break]

You need to leave, some small, instinctive voice in the younger woman whispered, ringing with loud alarm. You are not safe here.[break][break]

Abruptly Elisabeth rose to her feet, and murmuring some meaningless apology, she ran to her room. Nausea flooded her as she keeled over, vomiting in a wastebasket as her Roselia anxiously trotted over, shedding petals with concern. AROMATHERAPY wafted from the flowery Grass-type Pokémon as Elisabeth felt its healing effects take hold on her body, purging whatever toxicity she had unknowingly imbibed mere minutes before.[break][break]

Some part of Elisabeth would piece together that day the mystery of how her cruel father-in-law died, long before she could ever meet him.[break][break]

Some part of her would finally understand the depths of the depravity that the Dowager Countess had descended to, in order to attain the freedom that woman openly mocked Elisabeth for secretly desiring.[break][break]

After that, Elisabeth never dared be the one to eat or drink first at the table, not so long as her mother-in-law lived.[break][break]

She'd watch the Dowager Countess first, and with the patience of the poisoner she'd one day become, she'd wait.[break][break]

And wait.

CAST:

- Dowager Countess Bortiforte: Elisabeth's late mother-in-law. Mistress of Bortiforte Manor until her death.[break]
- Lord Bortiforte Senior: Elisabeth's late father-in-law, who died before her marriage to his son, Édouard. An abusive father and husband.[break]
- Édouard Bortiforte: Elisabeth's late husband. CEO of Bortiforte Industries, a Kalosian security and asset management company. Ranked a count in the nobility.[break][break]

NOTES:

- Return to chapter of contents here.

[attr="class","elisatestpkmn"]

[attr="class","elisatestcredit"]

MADE BY GUNSMILE

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close tab

played by

Scarlet

Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

Unattached

Black Widow

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

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

awards

4,364 posts

DOLLARS

part of

TAG WITH @elisabeth

Elisabeth Fiorelli

Petalburg Cottage [TW]

POSTED ON Apr 16, 2023 5:17:54 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","elisatest"]

[attr="class","elisatestbody"]

ACT III: Smoke & Ash[break]
"Le Jeu avec le feu"

[break]
Flowers, despite being alive, have no true understanding of pain. There are no nerves that can react when they are set afire; being devoured by beasts does nothing to cause them agony. Human beings do not have such luxury, when faced with their own ruin. They have no choice but to feel.

(CW: Domestic Abuse/Body Horror/Violence/Verbal Abuse)

[break]

SPOILER: Click to show

"You crazy bitch. You would kill us both."[break][break]

His fists grabbed her long blonde hair, dragging her along the floor to her bedroom. The smell of smoke and ash still burned his eyes, filling his nostrils with every inhale of breath as his wife's unsettling laughter followed his every step.[break][break]

All of the manor was empty, save for them. His rage had banished all others from the premises.[break][break]

"What's wrong, Edouard?" Elisabeth taunted, grinning up at him even as he yanked her upright. "I thought you liked fire."[break][break]

His Emboar let out a low, menacing growl at the woman's predatory smile. It could sense his master's black mood a little too well; the two had synced in that way, forming an understanding that somehow Édouard and his wife had never known.[break][break]

'His wife.' Was she even that anymore? The woman in front of him was a stranger, now.[break][break]

"Is this a game to you, Lisa?" he snarled, shoving her against the wall so that bruises blossomed unseen all along her back. The mortar shuddered with their combined weight, and another maddening laugh bubbled out of his wife's throat. It enraged him. "How many people might have died, had your little stunt succeeded?"[break][break]

How had she gotten hold of any means of fire at all? The only Pokemon in her possession, to his knowing, was the Roselia he'd gifted her. None of the servants would be foolish enough to leave matches in her reach. None of his Emboar would ever listen to her orders over his.[break][break]

Yet somehow, the entire west wing of the manor had burned down at her bidding.[break][break]

"But I'm not good for much anything, am I?" Elisabeth replied mockingly, her voice taking on a sing-song tenor. "You give me an awful lot of power for a mad woman, you know."[break][break]

His fist tightened on her throat, stifling her manic laughter. Still, the defiant gleam never left her emerald gaze. It terrified him, the way he couldn't recognize himself anymore in her eyes.[break][break]

"Are you going to kill me?" Elisabeth managed to whisper, and only this made his hand slacken its hold. Given breath once more, she sneered up at her husband, goading him onwards. "Go ahead. Put us both out of our misery, then."[break][break]

Was that what she wanted? Was that the only future she believed they could know? It defied sense and reason.[break][break]

Abruptly he tossed her to the floor; she coughed as her hands reached for her throat, gasping for lungfuls of air. He waited for the fear to creep into her expression, as it always had before, rendering her silent and docile as she ought to be in his presence.[break][break]

Instead, that incessant laughter returned in all its cruel cadence, taunting as she grinned up at him.[break][break]

"Weak little man," she hissed out, all bared fangs. "You can't even kill me properly. What, are you afraid of being the monster that you are?"[break][break]

When had she turned into this vicious harpy, needling him at every turn? He'd never believed her to be mad, at first; it had been a carefully curated white lie, something to appease the press while they bided their time for her return to society. She'd given him no choice, when she'd accused him of such crimes so brazenly.[break][break]

He had never imagined it would provoke her to arson.[break][break]

Had she forgotten how to fear him? Had he, in fact, become weak in his attempts to win back her affections?[break][break]

"No son of mine will be called weak."

[break]

"Shall we play with fire, then?" Édouard roared, a boot holding her supine form flat against the tile. He could feel the laughter shivering through her, throwing her into a fit of hysteria. "Never forget that I give you only what you ask for, Lisa. Nothing more and nothing less."[break][break]

His Emboar's curled first was set ablaze with a fiery tincture, glowing through a spectrum of golds, reds, and blues as it stomped forward at its master's call. Elisabeth didn't quiver or tremble at its approach; she didn't beg for her husband's forgiveness; she did nothing but laugh, her sharp eyes daring him to do what she didn't believe he could.[break][break]

"Apologize," he warned, the thunder of his baritone a threat as he knelt down to face her. "You will not win this war against me. One day, you'll realize that surrender is your only path to happiness."[break][break]

"Kill me," she dared him instead, and spit in his eye.[break][break]

This was what he told himself: She had asked for this. She had forced his hand. She had been the one to reject his kindness, only accepting cruelty.[break][break]

If she only believed him capable of evil, then so be it.[break][break]

Pain forced even the strongest wills to break. It had broken Édouard in the face of war. It had broken his mother's sneering derision at the hands of his father.[break][break]

And it broke Elisabeth, now, as her cackling laughter gave way to screams that pierced the entirety of the manor in their inhuman decibel, tears streaming down her cheeks as he held her writhing body in place. The fear he'd so desired to invoke in her returned to her emerald eyes as she convulsed in agony, and for a moment she seemed to be ten years younger, frightened at the discovery that the man she loved had learned only how to hate her.[break][break]

The stench of burning flesh flooded all of his senses as the Emboar finally relinquished its grip on her thigh, branding his wife's skin where only he -- or those that defied his ownership of her -- might truly know her. The result was twisted, red and raw; it sickened him to stare upon the warped flesh for too long.[break][break]

Incapable of speech, Elisabeth's earlier defiance diminished into nothingness she collapsed into a fit of pathetic, unintelligible sobs. Édouard stared down at the pitiful form of his broken wife in silence, disgusted as he stepped over her.[break][break]

"You chose to suffer," he reminded her, moving to depart her room. "I'm merely giving you the punishment you asked me for. I take no pleasure in it, Lisa, despite what you choose to believe."[break][break]

The physician came to tend to a mentally unwell woman who had managed to get her hand on matches. He was paid for his discretion. He was given reason to sympathize with the shattered woman whose burn he tended, for she was not in her right mind.[break][break]

Surely this would remind her of her place, Édouard thought to himself. Surely this would return things to the way they ought to be.[break][break]

But the hate rekindled in her, given all the more fuel for its flames.

CAST:

- Édouard Bortiforte: Elisabeth's late husband. CEO of Bortiforte Industries, a Kalosian security and asset management company. Ranked a count in the nobility.[break][break]

NOTES:

- Return to chapter of contents here.

[attr="class","elisatestpkmn"]

[attr="class","elisatestcredit"]

MADE BY GUNSMILE

close tab

played by

Scarlet

Lisa Bortiforte

She/Her

August 30

Camphrier Town, Kalos

Bi/Heteroromantic

Bioterrorist

Underboss

Unattached

Black Widow

5'9" / 175.26 cm height

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

awards

4,364 posts

DOLLARS

part of

TAG WITH @elisabeth

Elisabeth Fiorelli

Petalburg Cottage [TW]

POSTED ON Jan 18, 2024 0:24:29 GMT

BARNABY FINCH likes this

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EPILOGUE:[break]
"Hantée"

[break]
When the flower shop burns to the ground, when the garden is nothing but ash and dust, there is a sense that this was an inevitability. That perhaps cycles like this struggle to break, finding instead themselves retold like a mythical tragedy doomed to repeat itself in each retelling.[break]

The first night spent away from the manor was a fitful one. She awakened with a start every few moments, glancing around herself in alarm at the bland hotel walls expecting to see the familiar trappings of her decade-long prison.[break][break]

Every time she closed her eyes, the memory of his filthy Emboar grinned back at her. The animosity those filthy pigs harbored against their trainer's murderer was as palpable as sweat on her skin.[break][break]

The bath soothed her, at least. Expensive Kalosian shampoos and fragrant soaps bubbled over the sweet-scented water as she tended to her aching body, marveling how being unhurried changed the way she viewed herself. She could give the burn scars on her left thigh careful consideration, examine the fading bruises and marks elsewhere and see their healing as proof his hands hadn't touched her for some time.[break][break]

The poison had been slow-acting, but it had succeeded early where it mattered.[break][break]

Silence engulfed her as she toweled herself off, donning a luxurious bathrobe as she faced herself in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, she really looked at herself.[break][break]

Had she always been so gaunt and thin? She pressed her hands to sallow cheeks, despairing at her own weak appearance. It wasn't as if she'd never had mirrors; it wasn't as if he ever starved her, either.[break][break]

But her unhappiness ate at her, little by little, in subtle ways. The stress and the weariness. The diminishing of appetite. The premature silvering of once-golden hair.[break][break]

Maybe she'd never wanted to look at what he'd done to her. Maybe until now, she couldn't bear to.[break][break]

She wandered off from the bathroom, pacing a hotel room that mercifully only held her inside. A ring of a bell could bring anything she wanted upstairs, but she'd had enough of servants for a lifetime.[break][break]

What she'd missed most was solitude.[break][break]

She curled up in the center of the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun overhead. The last time she'd been to a hotel... hadn't it been Lumiose City? Yes, that sounded right.[break][break]

They'd fought, until they hadn't. She'd forgiven him, until she remembered why she couldn't.[break][break]

He'd been kind to her, until he wasn't.[break][break]

She flung her arm over her eyes, a weariness permeating her very bones as she exhaled. No more men, then. No trusting empty promises and false devotion. The very idea of loving anyone again left her exhausted beyond words.[break][break]

And frightened. Horribly, terribly frightened in ways she could never express.[break][break]

It must have been 4am by the time she gave up on slumber. She donned dark clothes, called for a taxi back to the place she'd narrowly escaped, paid the driver in cash to wait outside the gate.[break][break]

Her heart pounded in her chest as she regarded the looming architecture of her husband's old home, staring up at its vast and empty interior like it was a mouth waiting to swallow her whole.[break][break]

Perhaps this part of him had to die (or so she reasoned as she lit the first match) for her to live again.[break][break]

Fire spread slowly and then quickly, devouring itself and snaking across floorboards to swallow gossamer curtains and wooden beams. Glass windows fogged with smoke; the fire alarms rang, but at this distance, no one would answer fast enough to stop the inferno from raging.[break][break]

She stood there for what felt like hours, the man idling patiently in his car as he waited for her. She watched everything burn, and her eyes watered, the heat sparking the air as she wiped the tears away.[break][break]

She'd fantasized about this moment for years: the release that would surely overtake her, the relief at knowing the great evil had passed, the heavy cloud lifting to allow her to live for herself again.[break][break]

So why?[break][break]

After everything. After all that he'd done. After all that she'd suffered for him. After all that she'd had to endure to be rid of him.[break][break]

Why did nothing feel different?[break][break]

The emptiness only twisted up inside of her, agonized and aggravated by its own existence, as she let out a strangled sob of frustration. She hated him. She hated herself. She hated the fact that nothing would ever feel the same again.[break][break]

A cage-bred Chatot didn't learn to fly upon release.[break][break]

The pitiful bird could only fumble, unable to wield wings grown shrunken in cruel and confined spaces, and descend gracelessly back to the ground.

CAST:

- Édouard Bortiforte: Elisabeth's late husband. CEO of Bortiforte Industries, a Kalosian security and asset management company. Ranked a count in the nobility.[break][break]