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
Mourning Glory [Social]
POSTED ON Sept 15, 2022 18:48:38 GMT
[attr=class,elisafont] [googlefont=Meddon] Condoléances [break][break] [break] At the laying down of this verbal trap, Elisabeth laughed, as if amused at its placement in the middle of a place as seemingly innocuous as a coffee shop.
"What a quandary you've put me in. If I answer yes, I am by my own admission painting myself as a hypocrite. If I answer no, then I look most dreadful a person indeed."
She smiled again, leaning forward as she studied him with a quick glance of her emerald eyes; his manner was relaxed, though his gaze spoke of a certain focus and attentiveness.
She was being observed, even now.
"I think I will instead decline answering, and allow you the privilege of making up your own mind on the matter."
The truth of the matter was something she knew intimately enough, but truth was a fickle thing, in that way. It shifted depending on the eye of the beholder, despite the commonly held belief it was something fixed and resolute.
That had been her experience, at least. Many truths bent and broke, if placed under enough weight and duress, or viewed through a distorted lens.
So Elisabeth flitted away from this topic, instead turning the spotlight of the questioning onto him, now, as she spoke her own observations of him aloud. As she did so, the faintest smirk creased her own lips, a flicker of knowing mischief in her eyes.
"I would venture a guess, however, that you'd like me to take advantage of you, Mr. Wledig. Which of us here has devious intentions, hm?"
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