He doesn't hear Cyrus approach, and so he whips around with a startle when he hears that voice. His face is reddened, a flush going down to his neck, a few drops of blood sliding from the hand that bashed the Avox's lip in.

He feels like his insides are a crumpled up wad of paper, and then Cyrus comes in and strikes a match and sets them alight. To already feel hapless and stuck and then to have one of the Reagan brats come in, to so suddenly flash back to when they were children, to Cyrus, petulant and rigid, insisting on being respected despite his cracking voice and pocked face.

"Yeah? You want me to replace it, maybe you can introduce some legislation so your brother and I can get paid a decent goddamn wage. Nine Tributes, Reagan, and we're still at the same salary that we had when I was working for Ten."

The Avox gets up, and Jason raises his eyebrows and lurches towards it for a second, sending it skittering away from him, and then he folds his arms. He knows what Cyrus is saying, and yet he'll play stupid about it if it'll goad Cyrus into actually saying it out loud, letting Jason escalate it into a full fight.

"Besides, this whole Tower property should be replaced. It's awful. Plaid."