#@mallory

At some point, Elodie had to come to terms with the fact that her life was a sitcom. It just was. With her heat broken due to the ferocious and probably-not-natural cold snap, she only wanted to sit at a bar for a little while and eat something hot before she had to find herself somewhere safe to stay. Of course she’d sort-of befriend Mallory Bordeaux, and of course she’d offer her room at the St. Regis. The basilisk had never seen anything quite like it, let alone actually experience it herself.

“Sorr--” She stopped as soon as she realized the woman she’d collided with felt a particular brand of bizarre reserved only for one particular family. Her gaze lifted and she was glad for the sunglasses when she realized it was Mallory Bordeaux, resplendent in thigh-high boots, dark but colorful eye makeup, and probably temporarily dyed hair. “You’re... you... hi,” she said, words failing her. @mallorybordeaux

Like... generally? They’re people, I guess. I don’t really know any of them. Del’s nice, Mallory seems nice, but that pretty much ends my interactions with them.

Dalia: This is supernatural, right?

Dalia: I'm going to kill someone or myself before this is over. I'm afraid to leave my office.

Though Dalia is incredibly fond of Mallory as a friend, she’s still incredibly self-serving having spent her formative years around adults who were supposed to take care of her and instead did the opposite. It left a lasting impression, and even in relationships where she should feel comfortable and safe, there’s always that niggling thought in the back of her mind that stays her slightly. That said, if it came down to her life or Mallory’s, she’d keep herself safe without so much as a second thought. 

So, while they are friends and while Dalia would indeed help her in almost any way, at the end of the day, she’s always going to look out for herself.