thecapitol | [open] darling i'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

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[open] darling i'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

Who| Porrim and anyone in D5 or who happens to be around D5.
What| mingling in the D5 suites; addressing tribute concerns and getting to know her charges over tea.
Where| D5 suites
When| anytime between October 5th and now!
Warnings/Notes| probably none, aside from language! will update.

Soon after her initial introduction over the Network, and for the weeks following, Porrim finds herself situated at regular intervals in the District 5 lounge, a fresh tray of tea, pastries, sandwiches and assorted other delicacies spread across the table in front of her, and a handsome leather notebook poised in front of her, ready to take notes if necessary. She finds that these regular sessions--like open office hours in a university--are helpful to her Tributes. It's important for her to be accessible, especially when her district has the reputation that it does.

And, well, if she keeps a tiny silver flask nearby and occasionally slips a little something stronger into her tea, who can really blame her? The job of an Escort is a neverending headache, and the indomitable Miss Maryam is more than well-equipped to deal with the consequences. And true to her word, she's happy to socialize with anyone from another District who happens by; she'll never say no to new friends, to making new contacts and meeting new faces. After all, people are interesting. Especially when they come from such varied walks of life.

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His grin grows a little when he sees her smirking. Looks like she might be up for a little bit more of the way their last conversation'd gone, which definitely puts him in a good mood.

"Right back at you," he replies, leaning his hip against one of the chairs, but not quite sitting down yet. "You good if I grab a post-workout cup of tea?"

Sitting back in her chair, Porrim adjusts her posture; less prim and ladylike, more relaxed and open. After all, openness is important when dealing with one's charges, attractive or no.

"Didn't peg you for the tea-drinking type," she counters, "but please, be my guest." She reaches for an empty cup from the tray, flipping it upright and pouring it full. "Cream? Sugar?" She cocks an eyebrow. "Rum?"

He sits down at that, giving a little chuckle. “What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”

Really, his grandmother had been a tea drinker, and even though he prefers coffee, he’s not opposed to it now and then. But it’s more fun to leave a little mystery.

“Cream’s good, just a little. Rum’d probably be better, but I’m going to be a responsible person and not drink right after a workout like that.”

"I'm learning that," Porrim muses aloud, reaching for the cream pot and pouring in just a little, as per Sam's request. Daintily, she sets the cup down on a saucer in front of him, eyeing him.

"Responsible, too. I'm floored. I didn't think a responsible Tribute existed." Or, well, her perceptions still haven't changed from the days when they were all kids. "How are you adjusting to Capitol life?"

Sam grins, slow and easy. “I kind of like you learning about me.” It’s possible he might be enjoying flirting with her a little too much, but that’s not going to stop him.

“Probably because the irresponsible ones draw a lot more attention to themselves.” He says it lightly as he picks up the tea cup, sipping carefully from it, but it’s true, in more ways than one. Then he leans back a little, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s a process. Never had anything like luxury like this, where I’m from.”

Porrim's lips curl into a smirk over the rim of her teacup. Ugh, he's cute. Cute and technically off-limits. Not that she's ever let that stop her, but still. "I'll have to keep doing that, then."

His observation is true, she realizes, and it strikes her how refreshing a new point of view can be, when one has always been around the same sort of people. "You're probably right," she says blithely. "Smarter to stay out of the spotlight, when being in it usually means you're in some modicum of trouble." Porrim's head cocks curiously. "What's it like, then? Where you're from."

“Maybe one day I’ll work myself up to returning the favor,” he says with another smirk, taking a drink of his own tea.

“I don’t mind stepping in the spotlight if needs be, when it’s a good one, but I’m not going to make one for myself by making trouble.” That is his strategy for the moment, but he says it mostly for the Capitol’s benefit. And for hers, because he might enjoy flirting with her, but she’s still Capitol, and he doesn’t know where she stands.

“Didn’t have people doing things like cleaning up after me, for one. We don’t have a lot of the technology that you guys do, or at least not outside of the people who invented it.” It wouldn’t surprise him if Stark had half of this stuff in that building of his. “But I did live in the capital city, so at least that hasn’t changed.”

"Oh, I'd appreciate that. It'd make me feel less creepy for sure," Porrim counters evenly. "Especially with, you know, the pages and pages of notes on you I've taken." She's joking. Definitely joking. There are only three pages, and they're strictly work-related, she swears.

"I appreciate you taking such a sensible tactic," she says with an approving hum. "I really think you could be the great equalizer that stops us from being branded the 'crazy district.'" Which is really lucky for Porrim, because it means she's gonna look awesome as a result.

She leans her chin on her hand, listening with genuine interest. "Strange. It's just that I've lived here my whole life, so the idea of something different is just..." She'd say 'appealing' but that's dangerous. So after a moment of hesitation, she shrugs. "Fascinating."

“Creepy’s definitely not a word I’d use for you.” Well, except for the whole Capitol thing, but even with that, she’s significantly less creepy than even some of the Tributes he’s met. Then his eyebrows raise a bit. “Pages and pages, huh? I’m flattered.”

That makes him laugh a little, slightly surprised, but definitely amused. “Oh girl, don’t put that on my head. Then I’m going to start feeling even more responsible.” He’s been working on how he looks to the Capitol, in bits and pieces when he remembers to be conscious of it, but he hasn’t really thought about how he makes the district look before.

The fact that she’s actually interested in where he comes from is a big bonus in her favor, though. The impression he’s gotten from most Capitol citizens is that they couldn’t care less, beyond what entertainment value they could get from it. “Nothing wrong with being interested in something different.” Except he’s pretty sure that the people in charge of the games would disagree, depending on what that different was.

"I'm glad," she replies. A beat, and then she nods, very solemnly. "If you're nice to me, I may even let you see them sometime." She's tempted to tell him that one of the pages is just 'Mrs. Sam Wilson' over in over in curlicue cursive, but she resists. Wouldn't want him to take her seriously, after all.

Porrim waves off Sam's concerns with a snort. "Oh, don't worry, it involves very little effort on your part. All you have to do is show up and continue not causing a ruckus. Well, that and look good in a suit, but--" She gives him a slow up-and-down, not at all trying to be subtle. "I'm guessing you won't have any problems in that department."

His reply has her sitting upright, looking a bit sheepish. "I wish that were true," she murmurs softly, tapping a finger against the rim of her teacup. "But what do I have to complain about here, right? Plenty of food, fancy clothes, parties at every turn." It sounds awfully like someone trying to convince herself.

Hopefully nobody's listening too closely.

“Oh, yeah? Guess I have some encouragement to be nice.” Though he is honestly a little curious about it.

“Well sure, it sounds easy when you say it like that. In that case, I’m a natural.” He leans back a little, enjoying the attention and giving her an appreciative look back. “I appreciate your vote of confidence, though. When they ask, I’ll make sure I tell them who’s the real motivator behind all this.” He’s teasing a little, but he’s also really asking there. Would it help, he wonders, if he mentioned how good his escort and mentor are, the next time he gets interviewed?

He’s doing everything he can to play along with their system, but he’s still figuring out the best ways to make it seem like he’s absolutely not interested working against them, not at all.

And probably talking about how great it is trying to find something different than the Capitol wouldn’t accomplish that, so instead of commenting on that sheepish look, he goes with her retraction. “Oh, believe me, I’m not complaining. I guess different was a poor choice of word. Adventurous, that’s a better one.” The flirting’s a little bit heavy on ‘adventurous,’ there, but he’s hoping she’ll get it.

"That's much appreciated." Unlike some ungrateful Tributes she's witnessed, who'd sooner spit in their staff's face merely for existing. She can understand it, honestly--she's sympathetic enough that if she were in their position, she wouldn't want to lie back and take it, either. And it's thoughts like that which make her surer than ever that she needs to keep them to herself. "At the very least, it'll score me some brownie points. Which, of course, I can then pass onto you. The better we all look, the more sponsors we can secure for you. Which means you'll have a better time of it in the Arena."

His tact is much appreciated, and Porrim rearranges her features back into smooth smugness. She leans forward, chin on her hand, stirring at her cup idly with the teaspoon. God, she really shouldn't say things like this, but she's never had great self-control in regards to flirting, not once she's set her eye on someone.

"Much better. And I'm very adventurous."

“Then I’ll go with that. Like I said, I’m not interested in making either you or Azula’s jobs harder. It seems like you guys’ve got my best interests as a Tribute in mind, and I’d be stupid to throw that away.” Which is true - he doesn’t exactly want to be the next Victor or anything, but he does know he should take all the help in the arena he can get. And after talking with Venus, he also knows he could use the help in maintaining his image - or hell, even forming a cohesive one.

They might be covering here with a revert back to flirting, but Sam still saw that. He doesn’t know if it means anything, definitely not enough to consider her a potential ally against the Capitol, but it does make him trust her a little bit more.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that. I’m looking forward to seeing more.”

"Well, aren't you a peach." A peach Porrim would like to bite into, truth be told. She smiles across the corner of the table at him. "You know, Sam, I haven't known you long, but I like talking to you." She's nothing if not frank, and hell, she might as well make herself clear.

"You and I ought to do it more often." Leaning back in her seat, she polishes off her third cup of tea today, relishing the subtle burn of rum in the back of her throat.

“Right back at you,” he agrees, giving another slow, pleased smile. Flirting aside - and he does like flirting with her, a hell of a lot - he wants to get a better handle on her. To see if he keeps catching more glimpses of her like he did just a few minutes ago, if she’s more than just charming and witty, gorgeous and fun to be around.

“We should. I could use your advice, and your expertise.” He finishes off his tea as well. “And I sure as hell could do with more of your company.”

"Excellent." She tips the brim of her hat--a rather stylish little top hat in jade green silk--toward him congenially. "I'll make a point not to make myself too scarce, in that case." She shifts her shoulders, ever-so-casual. "I'd hate to leave you deprived, after all."

Not that she's not sure that Sam has plenty of friends and admirers. A nice, good-looking guy like him? Shit, he's bound to have people of all genders knocking down his door.

"You're too good to me." He's still smiling at her as he sets his tea cup down on the table and stands.

"But I better go shower before I mess up the upholstery more than I have with these clothes," he says, tone jokingly self-deprecating. "I'll talk to you again soon?"

Porrim lifts a shoulder. "Not good enough, really."

She watches him stand and tilts her head, shaking it slightly like she's just so done with him and his ~~beautiful~~ sweaty body. "Go on, clean yourself up," she mock-chides him. And then she gives him a little wink.

"Very soon, I'm sure."

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[open] darling i'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

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