#c:mahlon

[elctras]

The idea of her her playing dolls would've made her laugh if the conversation hadn't taken a turn she wasn't prepared for. She could do the light-hearted banter, keep it easy and simple and never crossing into uncomfortable territory. She tried to focus, what had they been speaking about? Dolls. Stairwells. "Just doing my own service in return," she replied quietly, though she'd figured out the stairwells pretty quickly when she was still young. Perhaps, there was something of Three in her after all.

And then, she was unable to escape again, unable to retreat into light hearted conversation. Most if not wanting to reveal hard truths would clam up, but it was a vicious cycle, she needed what he provided to keep the voices at bay, to help provide little moments she she could feel some semblance of peace before whispers and lies began to poison her mind once more. Some wouldn't take the deal, but she had no choice in her mind. The pills stop the voices, and she wanted, needed the voices to stop for a bit so she could clear her head. It was why she was always disappearing, why she was always chasing the end of a bottle, the next high.

Finally, she sighed, searching for the words she needed to properly phrase what her mind wanted to say. "I've been finding it harder to uh... figure whats real and what's not." she admitted, shrugging a little, "Like, thinkin' someone said something and they didn't it was my fucked up head?" she frowned a little, "Pills stop it. Drink stops it. That's where I go. To drown them out."

"Hey, shit becomes very clear when there's blood involved," he reminded her. There had been no greater, more terrible moment of lucidity than immediately after taking a life -- feeling it leave someone's body, watching them fade in the eyes. It was an unparalleled clarity, one Mahlon despised. "If it weren't for me, you'd be playin' dollies with Link and snortin' cheap cocaine," he lamented, expression grave with faux concern. "What I do is nothin' short of a public service."

Mahlon glared down at her, expression annoyed and made more sour by the fact that he was still interested. The stairwells. He hadn't thought of those -- mainly because the idea of scaling twelve stories seemed more daunting than the three it took to reach El's floor. "Well 'scuse me for givin' a shit," he cocked a brow, angling to catch a sliver of her expression has she rested against him. "You gonna take the deal or not?"

[elctras]

She gave him a grin, "Do I look like a fucking sidekick to you?" she replied with a chuckle, poking his bottom lip as he pouted. "You? Clear things up? You're responsible for a good majority of the trouble I get into around here." she replied rolling her eyes, though the smile that still remained gave her away as amused rather than annoyed.

Seeing his frustration at her non-answer though was only serving to cause Electra more joy, and she wondered how much longer she could go before he truly exploded. Finally she would throw him a bone, but not before taking her time in getting comfortable, linking her hands and placing them atop his shoulder, resting her chin atop her hands and glancing up at him, trying to hide her laughter. "Not in the stairwells." she replied with a grin, the staircases to each floor were rarely used unless evacuating the building or you wanted to use them. Electra could pick a random one and hide for hours if she wanted. She listened though as he offered her a trade, and it became her turn to pout as she heard it, "You suck." she muttered, sighing softly as she turned her head, cheek now leaning on her hands she glanced out towards the Capitol, "Nothing, why, what's going on with you, hmm?"

"Why do I gotta be the sidekick?" he pouted, but there was no denying that he would, in fact, be hers. "Sure, El, you can be the brains, and I'll be the one who follows you around, cleanin' things up, throwin' punches." He was pretty sure Watson didn't actually fight much, but they were interpreting -- they had dramatic license to build upon the source material.

The answer to the question felt more like a riddle than the original inquiry. "Where the--" Mahlon scoffed, looking around like maybe there was some kind of joke being made. "What fuckin' tower are you in? Because the one I'm standin' in is so bugged it's fuckin' infested. I swear they're watchin' us shit, shower, and sleep." He sank back on the bench beside her, fiddling around in the inside pocket of his jean jacket. "Alright, a trade then -- a little somethin'..." he jiggled the denim, which clattered softly from the contents inside, "for a real answer: what's goin' on with you, El?"

[elctras]

The elevator doors were open as she approached, allowing the brunette to cross the threshold where she pressed the button for the roof before leaning against the railing with a chuckle. "See, I knew you wouldn't let me down." she replied with an amused smile, glancing down at the floor briefly as he mentioned not seeing her around since they'd been back. She had been scarce, more scarce than usual and the Games this round were more different. It wasn't just tributes, it was a stark reminder that it didn't matter if you won, you could still get thrown back in there. She forced the smile back to her features, "Aw, you really did miss me huh? I've been around," she replied with a shrug, not quite looking at him. "Last night, started off at some party and fuck knows where I ended up, I uh, actually need to figure that out." she admitted, the stranger whose bed she had woken up in had been no help. As she thought about it, her eyes lingered on the panel as she watched each floor number light up as they passed through. "I wasn't deliberately hiding, but I can't say I was bothered about being found either."

If Mahlon thought harder about himself, about the things he had done, perhaps he wouldn't have followed. After all, he'd been numbing half his life with the same shit that killed his ma -- the same shit that devastated Twelve, that kept half the victors compliant enough to not outright revolt. But it was what pooled beneath the numbness that he was truly scared of: the anger, the agony, the hurt. And that...that felt worse. "It would be rude to decline an invitation," he quipped cooly, trailing behind. "You know...it's funny -- I've been all the usual places since bein' back in town, but you weren't at any of 'em. Where have you been hidin', Electra? No -- better question: were you hopin' to be found?"

[elctras]

Her smirk gave way to a full smile at that moment, though she didn't really believe there was any truth to his words, her own fathers (or the hallucination of him) words from her arena coming back to haunt her anytime someone said anything remotely positive towards her. Not true, Electra darling, her fathers' smooth words whispered in her ear, Just a sweet little lie to get something from you, ... he feels sorry for you. She cleared her throat, his brand of easing the pain always something that she craved and then was no exception. The more she eased her pains, the quieter the voices got. Drowning out the voices appealed to her, drew her in, and there wasn't much she wouldn't do to achieve it. She closed the gap between them, tilting her head a little as she pretended to give some serious contemplation to his proposition, though she had already made her mind up. "I was about to head up to the roof to clear my head, feel free to come show me those things." she had a hidden spot on the roof from prying eyes, it seeming like the easier choice between that or going to the third floor. She brushed past him, trademark smirk now firmly back in place as she began to walk towards the elevator.

I'd have said you missed me, McCreary. "Shamelessly," he acquiesced cooly, sly grin sneaking up the corners of his lips. And that was true. He enjoyed Electra's company, both within the Tower - where it seemed all company was insufferable and stuffy - and out. All of Mahlon's favorite shitholes were frequent stomping grounds of hers too. Had been for years. "I can think of a few things that would ease the pain," Mahlon stuck out his bottom lip, considering his options. They were deliciously infinite. "But I'd settle for your company, if your bustlin' victory tour schedule permits."

[elctras]

The brunette scoffed a little, tilting her head a little as she lifted her gaze to meet Mahlon's with a hint of amusement playing at the corner of her lips, an almost smirk beginning to appear despite the best efforts of the brunette to remain impartial, unbothered. "Oh you know me, off making friends. Enjoying victory and all the perks it has to offer." by that she knew he would understand, how often they had probably had glimpsed each other in the dark recesses of some unsavoury location over the years, Electra always in some strangers company, someone she'd call friend for now if they could provide her what she wanted, what she craved. If anyone knew the vices Electra turned to, it was Mahlon. "Gee, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said you missed me, McCreary." she replied lightly, leaning against the wall more out of necessity but merely playing it off as being casual. She had been out far too long again, coming home at breakfast with more of the Capitol's best narcotics running through her veins and a care and concern that she didn't deserve from Link as she arrived on the Third floor to see her co-mentor. "Forgive me, how will I make it up to you?"

"Just an observation," Mahlon returned her nonchalance, smile always an easy and empty thing. "A curiosity, if you will." In truth, he was mostly surprised he'd arrived before her, the two of them seemingly in perpetual competition for most negligent mentor. It endeared him to her, like they shared an inside joke, the answer to a riddle: what would the Capitol do with two people too fucked up to successfully shuffle others to the slaughter? "You've been...scarce this cycle," he noted, another observation. Another subtly inquiry. "Makin' me show up late and alone. I'm startin' to take it personally."

[elctras]

In another world, they could probably get along. Be friends even. But that required Electra to hold anyone closer than arms length, and she wasn't prepared to do that. It hurt too much, when she did. A prime example was happening now. She'd been too young when she met Sawyer, whilst damaged, she hadn't put up the walls she had now, and Sawyer had become a friend, and now was fighting for her life. Yet, Electra was remaining narcissistic in her reaction, wondering what she was going to do without Sawyer. She arched a brow at Mahlon, "Late? Yes. Frazzled?...." she trailed off with a shrug... No, she wasn't frazzled, that implied that she cared she was late and she didn't. She was never was good at the mentoring part, she doubted any sponsor that actually agreed to meet with her expected her to turn up on time. She never had. "Why?"

Mahlon knew better than to talk to sponsors. While selling was his strong suit, he was used to moving a more tangible product. Selling people on an idea was more Hestia's thing, and he was such dead weight that he knew she operated better here as a mentor team of one. Besides, he had his own prospects -- his own clientele -- who eagerly awaited his return to the Capitol each cycle. Mahlon may not have been very likable, but he was terribly popular with this lot. A little something to help them sleep at night, or to get them up in the morning, or to cope with their meaningless lives... Whatever ailed them, he supplied. Patron victor of lost causes.

"You're late," he tutted, brows arched condescendingly. "What's got you so frazzled -- running so very far behind?"

[elctras]

She arched an eyebrow questioningly as he began to laugh, the expression conveying her confusion as to what he could have found funny in what she said. With Mahlon, you never knew. He was the one you could rely on to to laugh in a serious situation, so many times she had been landed in trouble by him over the years and had to avoid eye contact whilst pretending to be scolded. The idea of someone missing her was laughable, despite her hearing it a lot from the likes of Mahlon then and Link, there was always a voice in her mind that could never be quelled that would tell her she wasn't good enough, that no one would miss her if she wasn't here. That she shouldn't be here, others were more worthy. Thoughts that crossed her mind when she looked at the other victors.

The mystery of her whereabouts the previous night was something she was half keen to solve, but at the same time did she want to know what she did? Was she better off not knowing? "Like Clue? Are you going to be the Watson to my Holmes?" she grinned, glancing up at the elevator numbers as they announced they were at the roof. She listened to his question as she began to pat down various pockets on her person for cigarettes and her lighter, fingers finally coming into contact with the battered packet and the cool metal in a side pocket of her bag. Cigarette now slipped between her lips she held the packet out to Mahlon before lighting up, "Just 'cos you can't see me, doesn't mean I'm not in the tower, McCreary." she replied, as she moved towards her usual picnic bench. It had been her favorite for a while, tucked away from view of the elevator, and with a view of the Capitol. "C'mon you haven't figured out hidin' places yet? They said you gotta be here. That's it really." she sat down on one of the bench seats, laying back with a sigh.

See, I knew you wouldn't let me down.

It made Mahlon laugh, in that fucked up way you laughed when something sad happened. After all, that was maybe the one thing he could be counted on to do -- to disappoint, to fail. He couldn't even die like the rest of Twelve's tributes, like everyone wanted. Every breath he took after his name had been pulled from the reaping bowl was out of spite. Just to piss someone off. "I did," he said honestly. Electra was one of few people who didn't look at him with apprehension, or malice, or disgust -- especially in this stupid fucking Tower. Her absence was felt, painfully noticeable to him. "A puzzle," his eyes brightened at the prospect. "A little mystery, huh? Are we gonna play detective? I've been itchin' to get out of this shithole and have a little fun."

The elevator doors opened, freeing them out onto the roof. Mahlon stepped out to respire deeply, filling his lungs with air that wasn't polluted with ash and soot. "I don't know how you get away with that shit. I tried skippin' one year, and they sent a whole fuckin' gaggle of Peacekeepers to drag my ass back. What's your secret, El?"