▨ poisoned cherry pie ▧

“London” He simply said not really planning on revealing more details so if she wanted to play detective she had to get satisfied with it. By the way it was time to at least introduce himself right? If they were gonna rott in the same place… “I’m Charles. You?”

“Mal,” they answered with half a smile. 

Tegan was bored and the small space left her with very little room for entertainment. Roman’s cell was unoccupied so her choices were to either stare up at the ceiling or tease the guards. The last option was surely the better of the two as the blonde had spent the last fifteen minutes or so making playful and suggestive glances toward the guards. Maybe a gullible one would let her out and she could go have her own fun. 

But as she continued her teasing, even managing to make one of them blush, noise from the other end alerted her. Curious, she stopped to watch as another pair of guards ushered a girl fresh out of the shower and into the cell on her other side. “Hey there, pretty…” Tegan giggled, leaning back against her cot as she crossed her legs. 

They took their time in the shower -- at least as much time as they guards would give them before starting to make comments to hurry up and use less soap. She hadn’t been afraid to tell them to shut up, or just blatantly ignore their dumb orders, riding the line between risking a real reprimand and simply being a pain in their ass. This had always been Mal’s talent with people. They prided themselves on it, too. 

“That actually work for anything?” Mal asked with half a laugh when they realized what the blonde had been up to before they were shoved into a different cell beside her. They sat on the cot running the towel through their hair. “They’re such fucking assholes,” Mallory mumbled this loud enough for the blonde to hear but didn’t bet on a response. 

 “What’s your name?” they were quick to return the question. “A while,” Mal answered with a stubborn tone, knowing they probably should say more. If they pissed him off he could do anything. They knew that now. Still, Mallory wouldn’t do it. They couldn’t break themselves for anyone. For now, that was how they saw what was asked of them here. “Why?”

Mal was doing her best to get a sense for what was going on without being given any information they wanted to hear from an authority figure -- not that she had trust for anyone. So, the question wasn’t only conversational. Mal wanted to know how wide this operation went. 

Truly Dahlia was glad to be taking a break from SDCC this year. “You and your ex chose a good year to attend. If her intention was solely to meet me, that is.” Certainly not for whatever chain of events led to Mallory’s untimely relocation to the isle. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Mal. This time I’ll be sure not to forget you.” Not much of a humorous person, that was close to making light of the moment she would come. “If you don’t mind, I’d like like to continue chatting with you, but not down here.” Comfort and a change of scenery is definitely needed. “Would you want to come out with me? We can do whatever you’d like– within reason of course.” The latter served to clarify the parameters, due to prior experience with her making such an offer to a slave.

“It was good year for other things, too,” Mal remarked. They almost couldn’t believe they were speaking this way to their favorite person in the world. “How do you guys really feel about doing events like that? Does it suck? I feel like it would be really annoying, actually.” 

How could they be so blasé when a conversation face to face and one-on-one was all they fantasized about when they were bored at work, or school, or anywhere? The bars were a big part of it. Parts of Dahlia’s angelic face were blocked out if they peered from the right angle. That was nothing if not a heavy dose of whatever fucked up reality they’d found themselves in. — They hadn’t even put two and two together that their idol had chosen to come to a place that condoned kidnapping and slavery.  Not yet.

“Erm, I don’t really know what there is to do.” Mal shrugged. And even though this was half the stuff of dreams, they were still incredibly suspicious of anything having to do with their new surroundings. “Whatta you usually do? -- The stuff I hear other free people and guards talk about is pretty...intense and uh...” Mallory looked down then. It was kind of difficult to tear their eyes away from the actress but now the worry was creeping in again. They were far from shy, though introversion did plague them.

Curiosity prevailed as she turned, heading to the direction from whence she came. Coming to stand at the cell’s door, she tilted her head studying the slave. “Yes, I am.” The blonde was not familiar with them. With a face like that she would have been sure to take notice. Perhaps they were new? A fan perhaps. The latter option the actress wasn’t sure she would be too thrilled about. “Who’s asking?”

“My ex dragged me to SDCC a couple years ago and I met you with her. “ It was only half a lie since Mal had begged Maddie to go with them to the panel for Dahlia’s book-turned movie. Somehow Mallory managed to shrug after that, almost regaining their composure.  Hopefully Dahlia would never see the tattoo at the base of their neck. That would likely give them away if they couldn’t think of a crafty enough lie to hide the fact that it was copied from that same film’s poster.

“My name’s Mallory. You can call me Mal.” Okay, maybe that sounded kinda rude.  “Uhh, please. Please call me ‘M’ or Mal.”

@mxlmitchell 

Over the course of his stay on the island, Arcelio had become quite comfortable with taking trips to the slave’s quarters. It was much more personal than placing an order, he found (and it was for that same reason he preferred buying clothing in-store than online). Getting to see the selection in the flesh also did a great job at dissolving any uncertainties about each slave’s appearance.

Some of the people he saw in the dungeon were becoming more familiar as the Master passed them by, but there were also those who had arrived recently. He suspected they’d been brought in to replace the ones that had been removed. Today, he made a point to head down around twelve o’clock, when he knew they were suffering the affects of hunger between meals. Like a child at the pound, he peeked into each cell and looked over the slaves inside. He wouldn’t stop for more than a few seconds at a time– that is, until he came across a curiously beautiful new face. 

Well, if it isn’t my lucky day, Arcelio thought to himself. A pretty, young, prospect ripe for corruption. 

Mallory was smart enough to figure out they were some kind of sex slave now. The inner workings of whatever captivity they were in and why they were here weren’t exactly clear from all the listening in they’d done. Mal had kept quiet and to themselves in order to try and glean information which otherwise might not have been given so freely. They listened to the guards, the other people in the cells and to the conversations people outside — people like this dude — thought they were so clever about.

“Do you not have eyes? It fucking sucks in here. — And I’m not your sweetheart. I’m not anyone’s sweetheart,” Mal scoffed. Their arms crossed heavily over their chest as they took only one step toward the front of the cell. The brunette purposefully ignored the other question as ‘fresh meat’ was seemingly quite the delicacy around here.

A few days had passed since Adam’s arrival and it had given him a chance to look around a little more. Often he would visit the cells, seeing who was taken out quite a lot and who wasn’t. there were always a few that would spend more time in the cells than others and those were usually the ones that caught his interest. Another thing that caught his interest was the beauty of this Island and so the plan was made to head out there and go explore. Everything was ready, except some companionship and that’s why he was now back in the basement standing in front of one of the cells. ‘’Hello there. I’m Adam, mind if I ask you a little question?’’

Mallory had hardly expected the man to stop in front of her door. They didn’t move at first. Even as he gave his name it took a minute for her to muster the motivation to prop herself halfway up on their bony elbows. The rest of her body stayed flat. “You can ask,” Mal spit. “Better not be some pervy shit, because I’m really not in the mood.”