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

[fusshionable]

Porrim is well aware of the implications of all this, if Sam does come back after this mission--which she's very much hoping he does. She can't bear to lose him, or Initiate, for that matter, but this kiss has complicated things thousandfold. She knows very well that the two of them will need to act like none of this ever happened, especially given that she's already under scrutiny for less-than-appropriate Tribute liaisons.

But she also knows that if she lost Sam, she'd never forgive herself for never having a chance to show him how much he means to her. So she can't regret kissing him, even if she probably should.

His hand in her hair has her sighing lightly, smiling with her eyes resting shut for a moment. "For...showing me that there are other ways to live," she says after a moment's pause. "And for giving me hope that we can build something better than this."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Her reply makes his chest tighten a little, makes something in him ache. He's not sure he wants to take credit for all of that - hell, he's not sure he can take credit for it. Maybe he gave her a few nudges along the way, but he's pretty sure she had all of that before she ever met him.

But he'll accept it anyway, at least for the moment. His hand lingers in her hair, just for a little bit longer, before he reluctantly pulls away.

"I guess we both gave each other a little hope, then. Thank you for reminding me there are people here worth fighting for."

[fusshionable]

Porrim needs to remember this. She needs to soak it all in, she needs to etch it in her memory, just in case. Just in case she has to go back to pretending this all never happened. Pretending she hasn't fallen for Sam in a way that's more than a little alarming to someone who hasn't said the l-word to someone else in a decade or so. And that thought, she finds, is the hardest one of all to comprehend.

Sam's words bring her back to present, and she shakes her head a little. "I like to think so." Porrim heaves a sigh, turning back to her makeup brushes and setting back to her work matter-of-factly--but she can't seem to keep that little smirk off her face, now.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

They are going to have to go back to that, Sam knows that. He also knows he's... not exactly the best at that undercover shit, but for her, he's going to do it. It helps that everything is complicated enough that he knows he can't act on anything anyway, and that it's probably no secret that the two of them might be harboring some not entirely professional feelings for each other.

...all right, definitely no secret, according to Celebrus.

But it's still hard, not to be able to talk to her the way he really wants to when they're back in the Capitol.

And even harder to let this go, to switch back into mission mode and let her do her thing, but they have to. A lot of people are counting on them.

Still, he smirks back at her. "More than a little. And we're giving hope to a hell of a lot of people doing this, so I guess I better get back to holding still."

[fusshionable]

"Guess you better," Porrim agrees softly, dabbing at the black around his eyes now, blending it out across his cheekbones, masking his features a little more. She's good at what she does; it's hard, from an outside perspective, to see why she quit being a Stylist, but she has her reasons. And besides, if she hadn't changed jobs, well, she wouldn't be here right now.

It's not long before she finishes, and she pulls away reluctantly. "There. You're beautiful."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

He lets her move back, equally as reluctantly. What he wouldn’t give to just be able to pull her back in, hold her close and forget that everything is complicated and uncertain - but they’ve already done enough of that tonight, and they don’t have time for any more pretending.

Like it or not, they have to go back to the real world.

“Of course I am. How could I not be with you as my stylist?” He grabs her hand one last time, presses a kiss to her knuckles before he lets go. “Wish me luck?”

[fusshionable]

Porrim watches, eyes wide and not without a touch of fear, as Sam kisses into her knuckles. God, if she let herself, she could really lose herself with him.

Her face is serious now. "Good luck. Be safe. Please--you need to come back to me. To all of us," she amends quickly. But the sentiment stands. "But most importantly, kick some ass, alright?"

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Oh, now why'd she have to go and ask him that. He doesn't want to lie to her, because there's no way he can promise that he'll make it out of this, but-

But looking at her kind of makes him want to lie.

"I've got a hell of a lot of incentive to come back," he murmurs, eyes locked on hers. Not just her, of course, there's no way he wants to go out without seeing this rebellion through and he's got family here. But somewhere along the way, she became a part of that. She's one of his, there's no way around that.

Then he gives her a little smirk. "I'll take down a few extra Peacekeepers, just for you."

[fusshionable]

"Good." Porrim huffs a breath. "Good." She dusts herself down, the backs of her hands covered in makeup swatches and obscuring her tattoos in places, and stands, offering a hand to Sam to help him up. Suddenly there's a lump in her throat and her chest is tight, and she's pretty sure if she talks to Sam any more about this she's going to get misty-eyed and make a fool out of herself. So she takes a deep breath.

"I should go. Check on my other charges, do some last-minute touch-ups." Quickly, without warning, she pulls Sam into a tight hug. "See you when you get back."