Jason Compson IV (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whatisay) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-11-03 11:17 pm
whatisay) wrote in thecapitol2015-11-03 11:17 pm
Such Convenience in Regret After the Fact [Closed]
WHO| Jason and Sinclair, then Swann; Jason and Wednesday; Jason and Emily
WHAT| Jason takes Wednesday to a photoshoot, and gets caught doing shady business.
WHEN| Week 6, except Wednesday, which is pre-Arena
WHERE| Sinclair's lobby, the Tribute Center, a shi-shi photoshoot, the D7 Suite
WARNINGS| Typical Jason warnings: bigotry, abusive dynamics, general asshattery.
I. Sinclair, then Swann
There's something about courting Sponsors that always makes Jason feel like a dog begging for scraps at the table. Whether or not it's part of the job description, it's degrading, and Jason spends most of the time wishing whatever establishment he's in would catch fire or that his business partners would suddenly find their drinks full of poison.
It's all the worse this time for being across from a man who last saw him behind glass in a cell.
He strides up to the front of the bank lobby and waves down the receptionist. "Jason Compson, here to see Augustus Sinclair? I tried to get an appointment in but I don't know if it stuck or not."
II. Wednesday
As a general rule, Tributes aren't allowed in Jason's car. Wednesday's one of the few he'll give leeway to, although Virgil has to stay in a carrier. Jacques, in a kennel in the back seat, keeps chattering at the scent of the spider and grasping at the thin metal bars. The drive isn't long, and it's even pleasant, Jason speculating on
Today, it's a photoshoot at the reptile house. Jason has to check Jacques at the door, and then Wednesday's taken to the styling area. Lights, makeup, costumes, and bustle that disturbs the poor animals kept in aquariums not even ten feet away. Jason barks orders between checking on his other Tributes' schedules on his phone.
"Alright. I want a bit of her input on the clothing. And minimize the makeup, we're going for creepy child, not jailbait. She's ten." He smacks away an Avox who he deems is brushing Wednesday's hair too slowly, taking over the way he used to run through his mother's hair about a decade ago. "I have half a mind to send the mute half of you to reprogramming and fire the rest of you. This should already be dollars in the bank."
III. Emily
Things have almost returned to a normal pace in the District Seven Suite, monkey aside, with a few Tributes still with a chance in the Arena and Cassian with such limited say in the wardrobes that his only work as a Stylist seems to be procuring fabric. Jason's control over the budget has become somewhat tyrannical, but other than that there have been fewer outbursts from anyone, fewer bruised Avoxes and broken mugs. Jason's waited up night when Emily's been bid on and now, with her Citizenship, only stays late when he has more work than usual.
"Emily, did you run these expenditures past me?" He looks up at her when she walks in in the morning. The monkey is sitting on the coffee table, chewing on a still-wrapped bon-bon. "I expect Cassian to have his hands in the cookie jar, but not you."
WHAT| Jason takes Wednesday to a photoshoot, and gets caught doing shady business.
WHEN| Week 6, except Wednesday, which is pre-Arena
WHERE| Sinclair's lobby, the Tribute Center, a shi-shi photoshoot, the D7 Suite
WARNINGS| Typical Jason warnings: bigotry, abusive dynamics, general asshattery.
I. Sinclair, then Swann
There's something about courting Sponsors that always makes Jason feel like a dog begging for scraps at the table. Whether or not it's part of the job description, it's degrading, and Jason spends most of the time wishing whatever establishment he's in would catch fire or that his business partners would suddenly find their drinks full of poison.
It's all the worse this time for being across from a man who last saw him behind glass in a cell.
He strides up to the front of the bank lobby and waves down the receptionist. "Jason Compson, here to see Augustus Sinclair? I tried to get an appointment in but I don't know if it stuck or not."
II. Wednesday
As a general rule, Tributes aren't allowed in Jason's car. Wednesday's one of the few he'll give leeway to, although Virgil has to stay in a carrier. Jacques, in a kennel in the back seat, keeps chattering at the scent of the spider and grasping at the thin metal bars. The drive isn't long, and it's even pleasant, Jason speculating on
Today, it's a photoshoot at the reptile house. Jason has to check Jacques at the door, and then Wednesday's taken to the styling area. Lights, makeup, costumes, and bustle that disturbs the poor animals kept in aquariums not even ten feet away. Jason barks orders between checking on his other Tributes' schedules on his phone.
"Alright. I want a bit of her input on the clothing. And minimize the makeup, we're going for creepy child, not jailbait. She's ten." He smacks away an Avox who he deems is brushing Wednesday's hair too slowly, taking over the way he used to run through his mother's hair about a decade ago. "I have half a mind to send the mute half of you to reprogramming and fire the rest of you. This should already be dollars in the bank."
III. Emily
Things have almost returned to a normal pace in the District Seven Suite, monkey aside, with a few Tributes still with a chance in the Arena and Cassian with such limited say in the wardrobes that his only work as a Stylist seems to be procuring fabric. Jason's control over the budget has become somewhat tyrannical, but other than that there have been fewer outbursts from anyone, fewer bruised Avoxes and broken mugs. Jason's waited up night when Emily's been bid on and now, with her Citizenship, only stays late when he has more work than usual.
"Emily, did you run these expenditures past me?" He looks up at her when she walks in in the morning. The monkey is sitting on the coffee table, chewing on a still-wrapped bon-bon. "I expect Cassian to have his hands in the cookie jar, but not you."
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"If it's that big a deal, I'll replace it myself." Not that that means she took the money in the first place, but it seems like the simplest solution to get him to stop worrying about it. "It's not really that much money, after all."
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"Look, just tell me if Cassian says anything. For all I know he's using the wrong credit card because they all look the same to him. I says people like that don't know what an assi's worth." He gets up and tosses the papers down with a smack onto the table. It's one of the few things he and Emily will share true understanding about, the fact that money is finite, but not one Jason would admit to having in common with a Districter.
Former Districter. He doesn't even say much more to her, just storms out with his hands in his pockets, leaving the incriminating documents on the table of a person he doesn't suspect is savvy enough to recognize embezzlement.
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She takes a minute to open the post that's been sent to her at the Training Centre, then reaches across to take the documents, leafing through them casually, not expecting to find anything that Jason hasn't already noted but figuring it can't hurt to double check. Even to her untrained eye, though, it's obvious that something is wrong. Her brow furrows over with worry as she reads the figures, getting a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
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He comes back in about half an hour later in something of a better mood, not because he figured out where the missing fund was going but because he found a good way to hide it. It'll take withdrawing from Ben's account and shuffling a bit around, and that's a hassle, but Jason's pretty sure he can make the paper trail lead to Maury.
There's a sick satisfaction in being able to take snipes at his errant uncle from afar.
"Oh, you decided to give a look at the math? Don't bother. I'm going to the bank to get it sorted anyway."
It doesn't even occur to him that she would have noticed anything. Everyone knows most Districters can't count past their fingers and toes. He sets a coffee in a paper cup down on the table for himself, having not brought one for Emily or even considering that it might have been polite to do so.
"Stop looking at those. You'll give yourself a headache. I'm going to shred them anyway."
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Jason freezes for a moment, partway towards putting one of his cigarettes to his mouth. Then he resumes the motion with a sort of affected ease, reminding himself that Districters are stupid, uneducated, practically illiterate. She doesn't know what she's talking about.
"Like I said. I'll take care of it."
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