The Binding of Isaac

[gamemakers]

Who| All those who signed up for the plot!
What| Capitol rebels attempt a break in and dismantling of dangerous weaponry.
Where| In a warehouse just beyond the very end of the cityline
When| Some time following Arena 13
WARNINGS| Please specify warnings in tag headers.
NOTES | Remember that if you did not sign up, it will be assumed you are not participating in the plot. Plotting can be found here! IC plotting is here!

Comments

[carnagecarnival]

He does as he's asked, following along to her place on the floor. He settles just off the cushion's edge, assumption being of him that it's for her. Definitely being for her. He folds his legs and sits still, pretending he's gone on into meditation just as he did sometimes around the floor of District five.

He notes the makeup kit and everything else. Then he says, "NEED MY FACE FOR THE COVERING. Can't do without paint, won't get on no focus none." Not even for rebellion was that blasphemy worthwhile. "AND MY HORNS. I don't actually know for what to be doing of them."

He can't snap them. The Capitol would notice on his return. It'd hurt to damn much even for him to do, he who took chance last arena at sawing off his own leg for freedom.

[fusshionable]

Porrim hums softly, considering the logistical dilemma this presents. She'd been banking on being able to remove his paint, but she's obviously going to be respectful of his needs, so she'll just need to find a workaround. "Of course," she murmurs. "Is it possible...it's just, you're far too recognizable with it on. Can I paint over it?"

That's the best she can think to do, aside from rigging up some kind of mask, which might call even more attention to him.

"As far as your horns, I was thinking we could drape something over them. Make it resemble a headdress. Those are coming back into fashion, you know."

[carnagecarnival]

He frowns. It's somewhat of a pout. He really didn't like getting a mess on with his paint. It was meant to be shown and seen. It was all being picture of his motherfucking soul and alliance of the faithful family as by the Messiahs word. Painting over it that, that was still making a marring on it.

"GOT ALL TO SUPPOSINGS SO THEN," He says, sighing. It'd still be there. Just underneath. Hidden. "Maybe a veil of sorts might all do. CAN'T MUCH TALK FOR WHILE ON MISSION NO WAYS ANYWAY." For reasons that were quite obvious.

He glances back upon her at that last bit, an amused smirk taking over his features. "All motherfucking respects due. BUT DO I LOOK AS LIKE I KNOW FUCK ALL UP ON FASHION, MARYAM?"