19th Design [video]

[threadthefire]

[Have a nice, interior shot of a very full passionné and a swivel to a very happy Cinna, standing on the stairs to the second floor.]

Well, I'll certainly say this is a nice way to cap off that week. Full house all around, my reputation must precede me.

If there's anyone here that would like to say hello, I'll be here at the shop, come on by.

[ooc: Anything goes, just don't tell him he's supposed to be played by Lenny Kravtiz.]

Comments

[clothiers.livejournal.com]

[ Her throat closes for a second. A shift takes place in Cinna, evident in him though he doesn't have to say anything else for her to sense the other underlying difficulty as well. She just doesn't know the direct source and it bothers her - as it should. They are partners in what they do, who they tried to protect by making them memorable - desirable not just aesthetically but in story.

The way Cinna looks now, she can't explain it but her gut wrenches like all that's fallen apart and she reaches a hand out to encircle his wrist. ]

What's the part you're not telling me? I'll find out eventually anyway.

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[He can say it from memory, it's burned that deeply into him.]

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

[Cinna slowly turns to face her, the pain written on his face.]

He sends them back, Portia. The bastard made it so Katniss and Peeta go back into the Arena. Again. Finnick has to go as well.

[clothiers.livejournal.com]

[ There is a long moment here where Portia thinks she can't breathe and it's stranger than expecting it, to realize the sinking feeling from her heart to her stomach was right; everything really does fall apart. Though it may be telling of Portia that her first thought is: well then we have to protect them again, as much as we can. Or can't we? She thinks about how this has been - will be - fixed and how it wouldn't be more to just fix it a little further, to make sure the Girl on Fire dies, maybe Peeta too. She feels sick, not for the first time with their less than grand Capitol, with their merciless so-called leader.

He'd do this to children. More than once. Of course he would. Yet she's appalled as if she never could have guessed and that hurts too.

She thinks: and of course adults can't volunteer. There is no protection.

Just the donations, just the desire of others to see you live.

Also not for the first time, she thinks several heavily heretical thoughts about the President but it sucks itself away in an instant when she focuses on Cinna's face. The hardened off feeling there, something like pain and a little bit of other things too, they make him seem so singular and destined that it's frightening in some ways. One never wants that kind of role for someone one considers a friend; it never ends well, not in this kind of life, she thinks but they can't take it back.

And Cinna's not the type to retreat either, once committed. Appropriately though, neither is Portia.

The hand circling Cinna's wrist finds his palm and then laces his fingers with hers, then tightens almost too much, a tension running its line from her to him before she lets it go only to raise her hand to his face. ]

I'm so sorry.

[ There sometimes doesn't seem to be anything else that can be said. She then withdraws her hand, they having a casual nearness of companions but she never meaning to overstep, for affection or concern to become an obligation. They should just be honest. ]

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[Three small words to encompass so much emotion, so many disappointments. He's grateful that she's here, she who has benefited and sacrificed the same things he has, for many of the same reasons. Their guilt at being the lucky ones, the ones outside the arena, the ones who only have to watch the Games play out, their disgust at the way their world is run and the stubborn determination to do what they can to help those who have no power to help themselves.]

But I have to tell you, Portia, dear, we're really outdoing ourselves this time.

[But he doesn't say anything about the escape plans. He knows he's done his part, making the population see the cruelty of a bride ripped from her groom, of a simple and honest girl forced to kill those she loves. But he's not certain of Portia's. If she was told, if she's involved and if so, will that be enough to save her when all is said and done.]

[clothiers.livejournal.com]

[ The hand previously at the side of Cinna's face rests now at the back of her own neck, her teeth catching on her lower lip as she considers the predicament in the silence only to blink and half smile at Cinna's words. She has no doubt that he has put his all into this unprecedented reprise of a bloodbath with old contenders, and she hopes she's giving Peeta as much in tandem. Swallowing an uncomfortable feeling in her throat, she nods absently before sharpening her focus again. ]

I don't doubt that. How could we do less?

[ Her smile is a little wider this time, not broad by any means but more heartfelt - that of someone who empathizes if from her own differing vantage. No two views are precisely the same even if they are on the same side. No two people understand this perhaps as well as they do. It's part of what makes it such a natural synthesis of work - their collaborative design and intent. ]

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

They don't know. Katniss and Peeta. They're from after the Tour but before... the announcement of the Quell.

[He looks at her, knowing he doesn't need to ask her not to say anything, why would she? She knows, as well as he what the cost of their peace is, and how dear it must be to them in this place.]

Finnick actually came here from the Arena, so he's ahead of me, even.

[clothiers.livejournal.com]

[ Her lips press thin, knowing not to say anything about said Quell to the District 12 Tributes and yet feeling her mind reel at the thought of Finnick being so far ahead.

She can't help but wonder: do you know how we are?

It's selfish. The children have it so much worse but it would be a lie to say she doesn't long to know that Cinna makes it out of this too, maybe even herself. But she knows a too good to be true story when it's written, how it doesn't actually happen that way. She won't ask any more than she'll tell. ]

I think I'll be a rather boring dinner guest. I'm not feeling very curious about anything.

[ Blatant lie and her lilting tone implies it, something she knows Cinna will pick up on but it also says this: I won't say anything - whatever they have here, whatever you have here, I want you to be able to keep it while you can.

It may be the only time it's possible, she thinks, and then hates her own mind and heart for being presupposed to such darker conclusions. ]

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

Oh, I'm certain we can fins things to talk about.

[He moves towards his desk and picks up the phone. They need to move onto lighter subjects, now that the essentials are out of the way.]

Let me call for some tea at least and I can tell you more about this place until dinner. Unless you've other plans? I shouldn't keep you if there are others you'd like to see?

[clothiers.livejournal.com]

I'll see Peeta later.

With that on the schedule, I'm in no hurry to go elsewhere. And tea sounds lovely.

[ With a quiet grace she moves to lean slightly against his desk, eying the things on top of it and identifying each as Cinna in their own specific ways. It's comforting to know some truths just don't change, no matter what happens, even as much as they are the underground matches for a bigger sort of revolution. Personal constancy is rather different.

Peeta has that.

Not so much Katniss, though Portia thinks if Katniss would let him, Peeta could give her that too. He'd give her anything.

And this Portia knows too. ]

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[He places the order quickly, apparent that it's something he does quite often. After that, he pulls up an additional chair for Portia to take, as perfect a host as he could be under the circumstances as he notes her looking at his work.]

Any feedback? It's been awhile since I've been able to have your input in my work.

[Business. It's safe to talk about business without everything else hanging over his head. If he can make these days, or however long she's here, a little calmer, a little easier than home, it will be worth anything.]

[clothiers.livejournal.com]

Your work is always impeccable. Though I'll admit some of these...have a different undertone than your usual designs.

Not that that's a bad thing. I like this one in particular.

[ She lets her fingertip hover over a clean silhouette blocked out on the paper, a dark take on a sapphire maybe judging by the color with an open back and an interesting cross-layer in the front. The gown could easily be too heavy but it's not; Cinna's handiwork is always toeing that line. Portia's is a bit more predictable but if he is the constant changing factor of mad genius, then maybe Portia is the control. It's hard to put these in cut and dry terms of course; they're people, not numbers, whatever their work. ]

It could be shorter. [ An evening gown but she thinks depending on the fabric it's something that at just above the knee would make an elegant daywear instead. ]