So Tired the World Doesn't Spin Anymore [Closed]

[whatisay]

WHO| Jason and Swann
WHAT| Jason officially moves in with Swann and they share Christmas.
WHEN| Before D1 breakout
WHERE| The borders of the Capitol
WARNINGS| Just privileged Capitol brats.

The trip to District Seven had to be canceled after the recent attacks, as all travel outside the Capitol is on lockdown for anything other than military or business reasons. Two currently unemployed Escorts don't have a viable need to leave the borders of the city, but Jason has enough family connections in his back pocket (and Swann has even more) that he can at least get the tickets and reservations refunded and transferred to a nice chalet right outside the city. It's far enough to be away from the buzz of the Capitol, on the lake, across the water from District One, with the Capitol city itself like a glittering spiderweb covered in orange dew visible at night.

At some point, Jason's going to have to tell her that he sold his house. The Compson house. His mother's house. He doesn't really now what to think of it as anymore, especially now that the title's been transferred for a sum far greater than it's worth in the condition it's in, but paltry given the actual bones of the building.

He hasn't been well since the Tribute Center turned into a Detention Center. Without a job to keep him occupied, without a mother to harangue him, and without an account to scam money from, he doesn't have much to do besides drive around and sleep and cling to Swann with a level of clinginess that most girlfriends would find highly offputting. As of earlier this week he's nursing broken ribs from the 'incident' in the city, as well as a black eye and a cut across one cheekbone that required two stitches.

It's a minor injury, especially compared to what other people on that block ended up with. Especially compared to the dead.

They drive up in the evening, and the stars are coming out by the time they arrive at the chalet. He holds the door for the car for her, as usual, and the sole Avox that tends the place has lit the fireplace for their arrival and put out sparkling water.

Comments

[cigne]

"And I've told you that's hardly anything, people must think I'm the worst girlfriend." For allowing him to go around wearing the same suits week after week. Repeating an outfit isn't a crime, but that's assuming the repeat is at least a month later.

She grins and shifts to look up at him, teasing. "Well damn. Guess I'll never find me a rich man to save me from this cold, cold District life."

[whatisay]

Jason quiets for a moment, considering that if he were doing this boyfriend thing correctly, Swann would be in new outfits every lunch break. She is, of course, but that's because she's a Honeymead. It has nothing to do with him, and thus Swann's wealth has shielded Jason in more ways than one.

And he's only gotten one ticket from the fashion police since he let Swann meddle with his wardrobe.

He kisses her forehead. "So long as they only think it and don't say anything out loud, I guess I won't have to ruin their lives any."

[cigne]

She makes a soft noise when he kisses her head, and reaches for his hand. "I don't care anyway. I just want you to be comfortable. Besides, I have to look at you, so I should probably get to decide what you wear when I do."

There's a beat or two of silence, then she glances up at him and speaks carefully. "Are you... putting things in storage? Some of your furniture is pretty nice." Mostly she just wants to know what he's doing with his family, his parents and Quentin, diamonds she doesn't particularly want in her home.

[whatisay]

"You can dress me whenever you want. I'll only put up a fuss when it matters." Which means, honestly, that he only protests when it fits some personal and petty agenda of his, often fueled by stubbornness instead of logic.

He knows what she'd talking about, but he goes around it. "I'm not sure I won't just burn it all. You know, just dig a pit somewhere on the grounds and light it up."

[cigne]

"You put up a fuss whenever you feel like it," she murmurs, squeezing his fingers and lying her head back on his shoulder. Her spine stiffens a little, because as much as she doesn't want the other Compsons in her space, it still feels odd and wrong to dispose of them, in a world as oriented with family as theirs is. Besides that, she just paid to have Caroline pressed, and while the money's not an object, it's sort of irritating to take care of the affairs of such a terrible woman only to have the money thrown away on her. Jason the Third and Quentin had surely taken what was left of the Compson fortune to be pressed, and so it seems similarly offensive to get rid of them.

It's a no-win situation, and Swann thinks that maybe she'll have them put in Benjy's trust, to one day be dealt with by lawyers and nurses.

"That's probably going to hurt the sale. Don't do it on the property. You're not always good with fire anyway."

[whatisay]

Jason doesn't even realize that she's thinking of his family in their permanent forms, because right now they're in the trunk of his car, along with some slightly older ancestors, up until far enough back that pressing wasn't popular. He's going to find something to do with them, although they might end up in the same sort of government custody that famous historical figures end up in when they have no kin to claim them.

He just knows he doesn't want to keep them, has entertained fantasies of chucking all of them into the river. But their next resting place is undetermined.

"You think I'd light myself up, don't you?" He tries to soothe her again, stroking her shoulder.

[cigne]

She presses her face against the side of his neck and sighs, letting herself relax as he touches her shoulder. It's just a lot to consider, now that she thinks about it. When she'd thought of him moving in before, it was more along the lines of him just spending the night and never leaving.

"You're a little... accident-prone," she says tactfully, one hand fisted in his shirt. "That's all."