thecapitol | 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."

Threaded | Flat

The receptionist, a svelte but sweet-looking woman named Nina Carnegie, nodded along with the question posed. She was entirely too nice to be working for Sinclair Solutions but the same can be said for a lot of people. "Mr. Sinclair is waiting for you at his office, Mr. Compson," she speaks with a melodious tone, as if she's the man's songbird and doorbell.

It's with a lively step that Nina leads Jason through the Panem Northern Bank halls, every so columns hung a portrait of President Snow along with the Board of Directors. They all seemed to stare down at the commuters, warning them to not try anything funny with their enterprise and with Panem itself.

Behind the solid oak doors with the plaque A. Sinclair, Esq. Sinclair Solutions, was a sprawling office, complete with one of the best views of the Capitol's financial sector, a place in the metaphorical Mount Olympus, high above the mortals that served them. The smirk on Gus's face was...dangerous to say the least. It's the same one he uses with investors and business partners, but this time?

Behind Augustus was a man in a simple suit, tall and built like a swift tank. This was Delta, Sinclair's personal Avox, once known as Johnny Travis, a former Peacekeeper who was sentenced to this for highly questionable acts. To have him here, it made sure that guests to the office wouldn't try harming Augustus.

"Thank you Nina...send up some tea for Mr. Compson and cancel all my other appointments for today. He and I have a few things to talk about," Gus spoke as he stood up from his chair. Miss Carnegie nodded and got to work on the request while the venture capitalist offered an empty chair.

"Figured with your family history, alcohol isn't a preference."

There was a lot to talk about indeed, the folders all carried the Compson name.

Wednesday doesn't like photoshoots. She doesn't really like any of the media machine she's now involved with, but she does understand the necessity of it, so she cooperatively goes with Jason to all of these things, photoshoots and interviews and tapings (she won't go with Emily or Cassian, and she's generally too young to go alone). She doesn't bring Virgil this time, because she doesn't want him around snakes and lizards, and she ignores Jacques just as much as Jason does.

She sits through styling very stoically, even as they paint her lips black and glue on long false lashes. She's mostly quiet, talking almost solely to Jason, and even then, it's only to ask for some water. But when he starts brushing her hair, she huffs out a quiet little breath and looks at his reflection in the mirror.

"Do you think this will take very long? I have ax-throwing practice tonight, and I wanted to take a nap before that."

Emily can't help but feel a little irritated and insulted with him springing accusations on her the moment she walks through the door. It's something she's come to expect from Jason, but it still grates every time. His attitude toward her hasn't changed at all since she gained her Citizenship, and she's not sure whether to be upset, if it's because he doesn't see her as worthy and continues to treat her as a Districter, or to be glad if he's seen past both titles despite all his posturing and prejudice otherwise, and has always just treated her as he would any other colleague all along.

She frowns a little as she casts her mind over her recent expenses in her pre-coffee haze, but it's long since become standard practice for her to run everything past Jason. It just wasn't worth his wrath not to.

"Every penny I've spent is accounted for. Is there anything in particular you think I've missed?"

I

II

no subject