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
PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY
POSTED ON Apr 2, 2024 17:04:38 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","minimal elisa2"] [attr="class","top"] She'd had nightmares like this.[break][break]
Sometimes the chain was a suffocating choker of rubies, the bridal gift cutting into her flesh like the thin slit of a guillotine. Sometimes the chain about her throat was a man's hand, throttling her protests into silence. Sometimes the chain was an intangible noose of pink mist, coiling about her with sweet, seductive lies.[break][break]
The imagery changed over the past decade, but what the nightmare represented was always the same: powerlessness.[break][break]
How long had she outrun that shadow?[break][break]
Pale, shaking hands roamed over a mask that replaced her face, tugging on the chain to find it unyielding. The clothes she wore weren't her own; no weapons could be found on her person; nothing about the darkness around her spoke of familiarity or comfort.[break][break]
Megalopolans paraded outside her cell, and a terrible, traitorous thought grabbed hold of her: had declan walsh betrayed her, trading her over to their newfound allies? Had she finally exhausted her worth to Rocket, as she always feared she would, and been exchanged as a bargaining chip in some greater war?[break][break]
Her fingers fisted themselves in her hair as she stepped back, shaking her head at this horrific realization. Though anyone could have done this, couldn't they? She had so very many enemies, within Rocket and out, who could have done something like this to her and justified the reason.[break][break]
Not just Walsh. MATIAS SILPH. FERNANDO SILPH. PENELOPE LIVY. Even THEO BECKETT.[break][break]
"No," she whispered, barely able to hear herself over the sound of her heartbeat as it rammed frantically against her ribs. "No, please, not this. Not again."[break][break]
I'm not helpless, she reminded herself wildly, desperately. Not this time, no. Not this time.[break][break]
She'd sold her sanity to guarantee that. She'd killed the first man she'd ever loved and made a demonic pact to ensure it.[break][break]
She reached forward with an uncurled fist, the indignation burning in her heart more than enough to fuel the wellspring of grudges her patron demanded. You wanted me to suffer, she silently reminded the unseen Ruinous Beast, imagining the thicket of thorns and brambles she'd conjure at its behest. Have my suffering, then. Drink your fill.[break][break]
Only the unfeeling void of her own thoughts answered, before a searing pain radiated out from her neck like a brand. She screamed then, a primal sound of terror and agony in equal weight to the power she'd offered, and the world around her blacked out as she fell to her knees.[break][break]
Tears sprang to her eyes as anger flared, only to freefall into the numbness of despair.[break][break]
So Wo-chien had abandoned her, too. Just as she'd always feared, ever since she'd seen it behold freya morningstar with such gluttony in its ochre eyes.[break][break]
...But what of the other? What of Tapu Fini?[break][break]
Cautiously, she righted herself again, her breathing rapid and shallow as she swayed unsteadily on her feet. Dizziness overwhelmed her, but she grit her teeth and opened her palm again, this time imagining a blossoming heart of MISTY TERRAIN unfurling from its center.[break][break]
The second scream threw her backwards, unable to regain composure in the wake of the first aftershock as the chain scorched her tender flesh anew. Her limbs cried out in pain; her mouth and throat were dry, weak from dehydration; her stomach churned sick with nausea that she fought down, knowing her mask wouldn't allow her that weakness.[break][break]
She laid there on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, and fought to breathe. The room wouldn't stop spinning.[break][break]
A desk. (Breathe.) A stool. (Breathe.) A cot. (Breathe.) Darkness.[break][break]
(Breathe. Don't just feel, Elisabeth. Think.)[break][break]
To lose both her Avatarships at once was strange. No, she realized suddenly, that didn't make sense. This chain had punished her for using her powers; it meant her tether to her patrons, in some way, still remained. Someone had trapped her here against her will and made her powerless, intentionally.[break][break]
The only question was who. And why.[break][break]
Her eyes closed, then reopened, taking in the room again from her place sprawled on the ground.[break][break]
A desk. (Breathe.) A stool. (Breathe.) A cot. (Breathe.) Darkness.[break][break]
And in the darkness--[break][break]
Panic surged again in her lungs as she crawled upright, the rush of fear and adrenaline reanimating her as she backed up against the wall like a cornered animal.[break][break]
And in the darkness, there was a man.
[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPHPrismatic Penitentiary: Ugly Ward (TLDR) - Elisabeth's resurfaced trauma from being trapped and powerless in her abusive marriage triggers a panic attack.[break][break] - She first thinks the Megalopolans are proof Rocket sold her out, but then realizes a lot of people would do this to her.[break][break] - Tests both Wo-chien and Tapu Fini's Avatarship abilities, screams in pain both times. Realizes she hasn't lost her Avatarships, but they are being suppressed.[break][break] - Belatedly discovers she is not alone, and regards the figure of a strange masked man with great alarm, backing up against the wall. [attr="class","pkmn"]
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