Jason notices the books before he notices China. Books are one of those strangely divisive materials in the Capitol; some consider them a sign of wealth, the sort of thing to populate an estate with enough space for them, while others see them as the inferior, Districter version of electronic literature. Very little attention is actually paid to the contents, and although Jason does do the occasional reading, he doesn't know that he's ever seen someone carry so many of them at once.

When she asks him for help, he looks at her face, and after a moment places it among the panoply of acquaintances he held as a child, the other faces that filled the tedious dinner parties and boring fundraisers of his youth. He doesn't remember much about China or her brother, except that people joked that they were just as antisocial as he was, and as few adults suspected that Jason was setting some sort of trend as one of the older kids by being so withdrawn and sullen, which the Sorrows were following. The children all knew better, of course - the politics of child society are more complicated than a hierarchy of birth years.

After a moment, another memory rises up out of his subconscious like a koi in a pond, and he remembers that he didn't much like China. Thought she was a bit of a manipulative little bitch. Jason finishes the last of his seltzer water and drags from his oft-present electronic cigarette before answering her.

"Sorrows, you and I both know you know how to use an Avox." Jason reaches a hand up and snaps his fingers, flagging one down from the corner, smoke flowing down his upper lip.