Jason, by contrast, holds onto that old power like a dog worrying a hide, knowing that the only standing he has over Cyrus is that he's older, no, that he was older by two years back when they were children. That there was a time when he was slightly ahead of Cyrus' starting line.

"I didn't realize that there was such a soft spot for traitors in Snow's cabinet." He gestures at the Avox. His lips blanch a little. "It's got a cut lip. It's not like I broke its arm or anything."

He takes a seat back on the couch, slouching, sprawling, eyes narrowed and outfit clashing with the tacky flannel decor.

"What are you up here for, Cyrus? I don't recall sending for a lecture on tablemanners."