Lisa Bortiforte
She/Her
31
August 30
Camphrier Town, Kalos
Bi/Heteroromantic
Bioterrorist
Underboss
Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.
TAG WITH @elisabeth
Elisabeth Fiorelli
scandal [m]
POSTED ON Apr 20, 2022 22:12:52 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"]
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[attr="class","bgtk-lyric2"]Rocket Recruitment III
[attr="class","bgtk-post"] "They disgust me. Reporters, journalists, the entire media industry. It's rotten to its core."[break][break] It felt safe to admit to the monstrosity that Elisabeth had nurtured within herself, here. Safer than Elisabeth had felt in years, in fact -- safer than she felt even in her little cottage in Petalburg, where she had cultivated everything to her exact preferences and designs.[break][break] And wasn't that a strange thing to admit to? Insane, almost, to say that she felt safer across from an infamous terrorist than around almost all of Hoenn.[break][break] Gavin's cool voice cut through her thoughts: "Tea? I promise it's not poisoned."[break][break] Elisabeth answered Gavin's grim laugh with a smirk of her own, taking a generous sip of the tea as a show of goodwill. "If you wanted me dead, Mr. Merlino, you have far more lethal and interesting weapons at your disposal than I do." Such as those red eyes beyond the window.[break][break] A pause inserted itself as Elisabeth lowered her cup upon its saucer, before she decided to pursue the thread that Gavin had dangled in front of her minutes prior. "When I was younger and foolish, I attempted to speak to the press about..." [break][break] The words for what she endured did not come. So she carried on without them.[break][break] "I attempted to speak privately to a reporter, thinking it might lead to assistance in leaving my high-profile marriage."[break][break] Another pause, then a flat and emotionless conclusion: "It did not. Much the opposite, in fact. I was painted as a flighty and fragile girl in the papers, unable to handle the mental stresses that came with being the wife of a powerful CEO. A liar, if not that, and that would hardly garner sympathy, would it? So I lost even more freedoms, ones I had taken for granted that I'd had in the first place."[break][break] The very perception of her sanity had been stolen from her, leaving her husband in charge of all her assets. Her parents' inheritance. Her health. The very rooms she was permitted to walk in and out of. All of it.[break][break] "He was poised to become the Silph or Stone of Kalos, if you can believe it." A derisive snort. "If I hadn't killed him, at least. He had the cold ambition for it, though, and the capacity for cruelty it'd have taken to succeed."[break][break] Gone was any trace of the deferent and demure persona that Elisabeth usually preferred to lean into around the higher echelons of the Rocket hierarchy. In its place was something cold, an icy and glacial beauty that resulted in a regal, stiff-necked posture. As she continued to speak, each word dripped with bitter poison from her lips.[break][break] "Funny how killing a celebrity gets the world's attention, doesn't it? Your motives are unnecessary, just..." She waved a hand airily, exhaling through clenched teeth. "The forbidden thrill of it, really. Of someone who was once untouchable now being reduced to nothing but dirt and rot, left to be fed to worms and maggots. Everyone is so infatuated with death, it's stunning."[break][break] She laughed again, this time more quietly, as her hands wrapped about the tea cup on the table. "I spent almost a decade begging to be seen. Now that I have been, I'm content enough to be left alone for the most part. I don't care for most people, and I don't think most care for me."[break][break] Cillian Quinn hadn't asked her for these details. It wasn't strictly necessary for her to share this much of herself with him.[break][break] Elisabeth knew this. Yet an intimate bond, one that mattered more than any union of flesh or spoken vow, connected her now to this man: that of having killed together, and stained their hands on the blood of the same corpse.[break][break] I trust you. A resulting truth reflected in a confession that no one else had ever gotten her to say. |
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even in the ruins, flowers blossom and flourish
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