thecapitol | [Closed] Get in, loser, we're going shopping

Who| Jet and Venus
What| Pre-wedding shopping, also some serious discussions
Where| all over the capitol
When| before the crowning
Warnings/Notes| Depends on what comes up, will change accordingly

The way Jet was dressed, tight pants and a button-down that wasn't fully buttoned up (a favorite of his stylist that Jet didn't actually throw a huge fuss about wearing) and the way he leaned against the wall with his hands stuffed into his pockets made him look more like some young person waiting for his hot date rather than what the actual plan was.

He couldn't remember how it had come up, he suspected it had been Albert's fault somehow, but Venus had found out Jet's wardrobe consisted of the most simple things someone could find in the capitol and a few outlandish outfits Jet hadn't managed to shake his stylist from keeping for him; not a single thing worthy of a nice night out on the town, much less a wedding, which had led to discussions of shopping. Albert had backed out of it like the square he was, but Jet was honestly excited. He was pretty sure he hadn't gone out shopping for fun since he'd been with the others and Frannie over thirty years ago.

So he leaned and waited and people-watched while he waited for his 'date' to join him in the tribute tower commons.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He snaps his attention back to her and out of staring off into space, a small sheepish smile developing as he became self-aware. "Yeah, sorry, I was thinking 'bout something. Talking about Al reminded me he told me something the other day." Maybe he should wait, what if it got awkward again because it wasn't something he was supposed to know? Maybe he should play it off and think of a better way to bring it up sometime, maybe- "Something you told him." -well now it was too late.

He shifted a bit but kept his attention on her. He wasn't nervous about the information itself, it didn't bother him, it was the fact he knew it and she didn't know he knew it, so the only way to fix that really was to tell her, otherwise it would play at the back of his head like a broken record every time he saw her and didn't tell her.

"He told me your real name...and I know you only told him, so I wanted you to know I knew it too or it'd be too much like lying to you. For the record, I think it's pretty." He waited, wanting to judge her reaction before he asked his follow-up question. How she reacted could possibly answer it without him asking.

She tilts her head as he begins to talk, a knot in her brow forming from inquisitiveness more than anything else. There's a shade of suspicion, because of the personal nature of the things she told Albert, but she trusts Albert well enough to safeguard the horrors of her depression. Of her bipolar disorder.

"Oh, I..."

She isn't sure what to say for a moment, and her mouth gawps like a fish over her noodles until she reaches up and takes a drink of her icewater.

"It's not even like a name, you know? It's like a...a whole different person."

He'd take surprised over angry. Her response pulled half a smile onto his face and he looked down to contemplate his own drink. "Yeah, I get what you mean." That...was actually really nice to hear on some level. He'd never met someone who felt the same, not that he thought there weren't others in their same basic position, he just hadn't talked to them.

He hesitated a moment, the ill-fated smile slipping from his face, though nothing truly sour took it's place. "I wasn't born 'Jet Link' that's not really a name parents give their kids...it was a name I picked when I was a kid, like a goal for myself."

Jet Link was the kid who fought back against his monsters and escaped hell through his own strength. Jet Link wasn't weak and scared all the time, Jet Link didn't have to hurt or feel hopeless and caged, he could fly away and be whatever or whoever he wanted to be without all those shadows following him around.

Of course, Jet Link had picked up his own shadows and his own monsters, but he'd learned to fight those too because he'd done it before. He had to wonder if Venus felt the same. "Do you like 'Venus' more? I'd like to call you by whatever you feel is more you, if that'd be okay."

A smile washes across her face.

"I figured. Figured that you always wanted to fly." Just as she figured, even though he never said it, that Jet and his parents weren't close. She remembers vividly the way he looked at her - with concern and knowing - when she was falling-down sick-drunk. She has her theories and she's too gentle to ask them. She's sure her past and Jet's are more similar than they'd like to admit.

"I'm Venus in the Arena. That's for sure." She exhales deep between her semi-pursed lips, just shy of a whistle. It shouldn't be a loaded question, a handful of seven letters. Strange, the things that psychology can do, the ways the brain can stitch identities into a chain of syllables. "I think- I'm okay with you calling me Delilah outside the Arena. Just not in front of everyone. It's not like they can't look up my name, but there's some people who honestly don't deserve to say it."

And like that, a bit of her bold, elitist spirit sparks up, the part of her personality that's a pickaxe. It comes with a smile and a derisive snort as she thinks about Shepard and Tom Cassidy.

His smile returns more gentle, though with an edge of amusement to it. He could imagine not wanting just anyone to use a name you barely even used. And if people could look it up, then he could always defend her name if someone who wasn't supposed to have it started using it.

"Fair enough. Delilah when it's not an arena and Venus to everyone else all of the time." He paused and his smile turned even softer. "Thank you. Honestly, I was a little afraid you'd be mad I knew, I know I'd be mad if someone just found out my real name without me giving it." Which...made him wonder if Venus wanted to know what it was. Of course, he didn't even know if he wanted to give it.

It wasn't a bad name, he just had bad things associated to it. So...maybe the answer was to give it to someone who didn't have anything to do with that bad stuff. He looked down to his water and swirled it around with the straw. If he gave it to her, that would make her the first person ever. He hadn't even given it to Albert, his partner had learned it from Jet's mother when she'd been in the Capitol.

"It's Gianni...my old name, I mean. I figure it's only fair, considering. Kinda a stupid name, right?" He didn't know what he was hoping she'd think of it, but he did know that -as weird as it was to admit it after decades of ignoring it- he didn't regret telling her.

"I wasn't about to be mad you knew. I've been a celebrity, I'm kind of used to people getting their noses in everything from my legal documents to me gynecology records."

She doesn't ask what his name is, because she figures if he wants to volunteer it he will - and so he does, just a moment later. She takes it with the reverence she believes it necessitates, her lips slightly parted, eyes alert. She needn't say the words 'thank you' for him to understand that she is treating it as a gift.

"I don't know, I think it's nice. But hey, I think it's a personal rite to hate your own name. There's a song called 'Hey There Delilah' in my timeline, and if I didn't think my name was stupid before I sure did after that came out." A little bit of that good humor starts to come over her again, like the warmth of the sun creeping up a cold marble wall.

That warmth spreads onto her and Jet picks up on it, reflecting it in the smile he gives her, one full of humor but also of gratitude, gratitude that she was okay with him having that piece of her and gratitude at being able to hand her a piece of himself and know she'd take care of it just as he'd take care of hers.

"Yeah, that sounds like it'd suck. The celebrity thing and the song thing, I don't envy you." He'd had people prying into his life before, but not such a wide and truly annoying group as social media, just jackass scientists and politicians.

His hand finds it's way across the table to hers, giving it a brief but tight squeeze. He'd never be able to say half the stuff he had in his head right this moment, but hopefully that would get at least a portion across. "Thanks, Vee. For...today..lots of things." He shrugged and quickly turned his attention to their food as he pulled his hand back. The moment was there, but now he waved it on as though afraid of the emotions attached.

"Anyway, we should probably eat our lunch so we can move on, yeah?" He couldn't quite meet her gaze at that moment and he hoped she could forgive him for not being able to give her the words and appreciation she deserved, but the more depth his emotions gained, the harder it was for him to process and express.

"Eh. It was a life. I'll take people prying over people not caring at all, I guess." If people care - even about the superficial stuff, her hair and her nails and what she's wearing on the red carpet - then it can provide a little support against crumpling, because she has no foundation of self-love and none of family.

At least, until recently.

She squeezes his back too, tight and surprised, and is both relieved and longing when he takes his hand away. She wanted to hold it more. She wasn't expecting it and isn't sure if her response was the right one.

"Sounds good. We got a lot of places to hit before we rest tonight."

[Closed] Get in, loser, we're going shopping

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