HopefulCloud - Morke left her interview as soon as she could. She was holding her heels, since she couldn't stand to walk in them anymore, and she stood in the elevator as it brought her up to the ninth floor. She had looked around for Tyrone briefly after her interview, and now she was seeking him out. She wanted to see how he was, since his interview was...interesting...so she went up to his door and knocked. "Tyrone? You in there?"
MisterStevens - By the time the interviews were over, Tyrone had managed to stagger back to his personal rooms, wipe off the rest of his makeup, and remove most of his sparkly, glittery attire so that he was left in only soft underclothes and the lightly blackened rims of his eyes where the last smudges of liner clung stubbornly. At Morke's knock he looked up from his fascinated stare into an amber-filled glass and mustered up the will to call out, "'S open," before dropping his head to rest on the cool surface of the table.
HopefulCloud - Morke raised an eyebrow and turned the handle and stepped inside. She tossed her high heels aside and then approached him and looked at the alcohol in his glass, then she promptly sat down, in an rather unlady-like fashion, and poured herself a glass as well. "Is this how you're spending your evening then? Getting completely smashed?" she asked as she looked at him. "Are you that scared?"
MisterStevens - Tyrone watched a bit stunned as Morke came and sat next to him. He couldn't tell whether it was her stunning good looks that made him stare, or the hope that, as she poured herself a drink, she would follow him into a drunken stupor as well. He sipped his drink morosely. "I hate this," he whined. "I want to go home." His words came out too slurred though, and he leaned rather clumsily on Morke's shoulder as though that would transmit the meaning of whatever he couldn't say.
HopefulCloud - Morke sipped the drink cautiously, she had never been fond of alcohol really, but she felt like maybe it would take the edge off, or something. "So do I," she said with a small shrug and then she looked at him. "You never really told me about Tiff before. She sounds like a delight."
MisterStevens - Tyrone made a small sweet noise at the mention of Tiff, and set his drink down for a moment so he could wrap his arms around Morke like a particularly weepy octopus. "She's 'mazing," he mumbled, teary-eyed. "Love her. Love you. Both fighters, winners." He went "pow-pow" quietly, with a little twitch of his arms like he was trying to mime boxing without letting go of his impromptu pillow.
HopefulCloud - Morke smiled a little and patted his head. "Well, I guess I've always been a fighter," she said softly. "You kinda remind me of my boyfriend back home, too. He's soft and squishy and too kind for the world. Like you."
MisterStevens - Tyrone mumbled a bit sadly against Morke's shoulder, curling up a little closer next to her. "He seems like a nice guy. I wish he could be here for you. 'Stead of me." He sniffled.
HopefulCloud - Morke glanced at him and then chuckled a bit. "I don't mind that it's you instead of him," she said simply. "He wouldn't look half as good in a dress." she was trying to keep the conversation light, but it was difficult with the Games hanging over their heads.
MisterStevens - That got a laugh out of him, and a blush, though it was hardly noticeable from how much he'd been drinking. Morke's humor was - it was nice. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so sad he couldn't bring himself to joke, but now it had come. But if Morke could make him laugh, things couldn't be that bad, right? He tried a smile. "Oh, I don't know. Dresses look great on everyone! I bet the stylists here could find something to flatter his figure."
HopefulCloud - "Fair enough," Morke said with a nod. "I guess the Capitol would be the place to find a dress for anyone." she tilted her head as if she was thinking about it. "Although I wouldn't want him to look better than me, and he might. He's cute, after all." she shook her head and then she looked at him. "Are you going to be alright, though? I'm worried about you."
MistersStevens - Alcohol was making Tyrone more giggly than usual, so it took him a bit to register Morke's worry. When he did, he tried to wave it off. "Noo, no, I'll be fine! Ambrosia heals all wounds..." He fluttered a hand in the direction of the near-emptied bottle, though he made no move to drink it. "What about yourself? You should be preparing, not getting smashed with me, you'll hurt your chances..."
HopefulCloud - Morke glanced at the alcohol and then looked at him and patted his arm gently. "Well, I'm not getting smashed," she chuckled a bit. "Having a sip of something isn't getting smashed. But...if you wanted to talk, that's all. I just wanted to be here for you. Count yourself lucky, because I don't do this for most people."
MisterStevens - Tyrone went rather misty-eyed at Morke's words, and smiled. Then he leaned in and kissed her. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I think I just needed to be drunk for a while. I'll be fine." He gazed at her softly, pleasantly floating and happy to see her, for a short while. "Any plans for tonight? I mean, I don't want to keep you from preparing."
HopefulCloud - She gave him a gentle kiss back and then she waved her hand. "Aside from not getting any sleep and thinking about how I probably won't ever see my son again? No, no plans," she sighed and then let her hair down from the tight up do it had been put into by the stylist. "I hope you don't have a bad hangover tomorrow, that's all. I'm sure that wouldn't help with the whole...getting out of danger thing we're going to have to be doing." she smiled a bit and then put her hand on his leg. "I want you to survive for Tiff, you know."
MisterStevens - Tyrone laughed again, though it wasn't funny at all. "Thanks. For the thought, at least." He watched Morke sappily, saw how the light hit her hair and how it fell down in waves that still half-held their shape from being on top of her head. "You have to people to live for too, Morke. A family. If it comes down to it, you know? Fuck me. Go home."
HopefulCloud - Morke rolled her eyes and looked at him directly. "We all have to try to go home, don't we? That's the whole point," she said. "And I don't want you to give up just because you think other people have more to live for." she wanted to desperately go home, of course, but she might just have to accept that Tox would be the only one to raise Triste. It broke her spirit a bit, but it might very well be the truth unless she found the strength in her to win this.
MisterStevens - Tyrone whined pitifully, because Morke was right. Maybe he was fucked. Maybe the thought of killing or abandoning someone to their death made his skin crawl, because that's what he'd have to do. But what would Tiff say if he went down without a fight? Begged for a quick death? Didn't he love her? Wouldn't he tear the world down for her, and she'd do the same for him? He grit his teeth, resolute but soon sighed. "I don't want to hurt you."
HopefulCloud - "I won't let you hurt me," Morke said simply. "Trust me." and she didn't want to be apart of his death, either. That's why she wanted to be alone in the arena, so she wouldn't have to feel guilt and shame for killing people she had actually come to care for. So their deaths would be somewhat of a mystery to her, but she knew that was likely not going to happen. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I know I won't go down without a fight. With whoever gets in my way, I suppose."
MisterStevens - That sounded ominous, but Tyrone felt comforted nonetheless. Morke was wonderful, and lovely, and sweet. And scary in a way that made Tyrone feel secure - if not in himself, then in her. "You're so strong." He smiled. "Thanks. For everything, you know? Sorry I'm such a wreck." He laughed, because he felt like that was all he could do right now. It was better than crying, at least.
HopefulCloud - Morke put an arm around his shoulders and then she just looked at him and nodded. "I didn't think I'd get anything good out of these Games, but I met you. And other people that I would never have met otherwise," she said as she kissed his cheek. "So, maybe it wasn't all bad, even if what's to come next is the real trial."
MisterStevens - Tyrone hummed optimistically and curled up automatically against Morke's side, happy to cuddle. "Yeah. People are great, aren't they? Well, maybe not the gamemakers. Or the peacekeepers. But they're just doing their jobs." He flapped a hand. "Whatever. I'm glad you're here."
HopefulCloud - Morke wasn't sure she agreed with Tyrone about the peacekeepers or gamemakers. They might "just be doing their jobs" but they were cruel and inhuman and willingly turned a blind eye to the pain throughout the districts. They weren't good people. Morke didn't think most people were good, anyway. "I don't know about that," she said. "I don't really trust most people. Like I said, you're lucky, but yeah. I'm glad we're here, too."
MisterStevens - Tyrone nodded vaguely, figuring he was probably talking out of his ass anyway, and Morke was more sensible about trusting people than he cared to be. A warm silence fell over him. It made him feel secure, her being here, as well as the arm around his shoulders. For this moment he could pretend he was home, with someone he loved, in the most sublime comfort of an embrace. The terror of the arena looming in the future - why, that was just another workday! The end of which he could come back to a familiar face, a warm embrace, and as many kisses as he could dream of. That was a lot, honestly. But by the time Tyrone had explored all the minute details of his fantasy, he was fast asleep.
HopefulCloud - Morke was surprised when she realized he was asleep. She smiled a bit, though, because he deserved to rest. He needed to rest. They both did, really, and she felt a little frightened of the next time they would see each other. She sighed heavily and then she slowly got up and assisted Tyrone in getting to his bed, barely waking him in the process somehow (well, she is a mom after all) and she gave his cheek a kiss before she turned to leave. She hoped whatever happened in there, that it would be painless for Tyrone. She found that she cared too much about him to even consider anything else. Then with that, she slipped away to her own apartment so she could check on Connel and then get some sleep. Or perhaps not, since the Hunger Games was busy preying on her mind.