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
THE WOUNDED
POSTED ON Mar 7, 2024 22:20:21 GMT
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"Oh? And yet you tell me what I am. What I've become."[break][break]
How nice it must be, to be perceived the 'sane' one. She'd wondered, often, what his Avatarship might be like for him. Lugia had never seemed the tormentor Wo-chien relished in being, or the silent puppeteer that she so often feared Tapu Fini to be.[break][break]
That envious thought, combined with the pity, threatened to overwhelm her.[break][break]
Becoming a spectacle had been a common occurrence for her during her marriage, and so to be one now didn't bring on that same sense of shame and humiliation she knew it ought to. Her position as an underboss demanded a certain level of civility and rapport with her peers.[break][break]
Feigning that composure dragged out the old resentment of playing the 'good wife' to a man who'd never been good to her. All of her being screamed at this in silent protest, furious at being constrained by games of decorum.[break][break]
Being the mad woman had been more enjoyable than being the good wife. A dark voice, one that wasn't quite her own, whispered that this was no different: the mad woman knew more freedom than the 'good underboss' he wanted her to be.[break][break]
"You think you know me, and you think you know Cross," she said at length, letting her gaze sweep the halls before finding her fellow underboss again. "But you're right about one thing: no one ever really knows another person, Cillian. Best we stop pretending we know one another, then."[break][break]
Assuming he'd have no desire to speak with her further, she began to depart his company. The thinnest sense of self-consciousness returned to her as the secretary's typing resumed.
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