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
dreams are made of this
POSTED ON Oct 8, 2022 5:25:50 GMT
[attr=class,elisafont] [googlefont=Meddon] Tous Songes sont Mensonges [break][break] [break] Did she have questions? Vaguely, Elisabeth suspected that she did. Many, many questions, in fact. When she looked at Lulu Flint now, however, those thoughts all dissipated like the very mist that had dragged her off to slumber. Or more accurately, the questions tumbled over one another, sluggish and refusing to present in her current incoherent state. "Nothing urgent, I should think," Elisabeth said instead, daring to rise to her feet. The motion was unsteady, like having disembarked from a ship long thought lost at sea. Only the way she clung to the bed's frame anchored her in place, until her body got accustomed to its standing weight once more. There was something anticlimactic in this finale. It irritated Elisabeth for some inexplicable reason. The stiff way she held herself and the detached tenor of her voice were, by their very aloofness, telling in that regard. What had she been looking for, by facing those nightmares again? "I won't keep you from your research, then."A single step was made forward, followed by a wooziness that caused her to sway towards the door. In the shadows of the lab, for a moment, she thought she saw a silhouette darkening its entry. Emerald eyes snapped into focus, and the hazy outline faded with her alertness; what remaining grogginess held her was banished in favor of a spike of adrenaline. The realization struck with such abrupt clarity it rendered her silent and frozen in place: He's dead, but he can still hurt you. You still let him haunt you."Is it possible to ever rid yourself of a nightmare?" Elisabeth asked suddenly. "I have always thought the longer you dream the same dreams, the more they embed in the mind. They imprint on you and can't be shaken, no matter how hard you try."Why would Lulu know the answer to such a thing? Why would anyone, for that matter? It was not a question with a true answer, but it was a question Elisabeth felt urged to voice nonetheless. [break] [break] [break] ✿[newclass=".elisafont b"]color: #7bb661;[/newclass]
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