[open] Say where is my shame...

[whittlingnickels]

Who| Augustus and Open with a closed prompt
What| Panem is falling apart but Sinclair isn't worried
Where| Various locations
When| Early January
Warnings/Notes| Capitolite privilege, callous disregard for human life,

I- The Capitol
What was a passing worry, a simple flight of fancy that the Capitol allowed to exist was wearing thin in Sinclair's eyes. Those in his sector, the finance centers of Panem were starting to panic and make rash decisions, making his work all the more annoying rather than enjoyable. The Rebellion captured District 12 and Seven but he wasn't quite surprised that happened. Like Three, those were hotbeds of dissent compared to the richer districts. It was simply a shame that they forget just how easily those smears can be wiped off the face of the planet.

Is Sinclair worried? Of course, it's his job to do so, but he's also keeping an eye on the events as they unfold. Snow is entertaining the rebels in their game but how easily can that be put to rest with another District 3 bombing? Even the murder of the Panem Nightly News anchors wasn't a big deal to him…
At least outwardly. In reality, Sinclair was starting to sleep with a gun under his pillow, and more so with the attempted capture of District 1…that hit too close to home for his taste.

He doesn't break routine as he goes out to his investments in the Capitol, offering a charming little smirk towards those he runs into.


II- The Detainment Center

And that charm is especially evident when Gus goes with Delta to the Detainment Center to examine the specimens in their enclosures. That's what offworlders have become: specimens, dehumanized examples of far off lands whose systems of governments were bound to fail. Kingdoms fall with beheadings, democracies built on peace collapse under the hypocrisy of what peace meant: sacrifice.

"You," he'd pick any soldier he saw, "What battles have you fought?"

Should he be satisfied with the answer, his smirk would gain wattage and suggestions for what supplies they need for battle.

III- Closed to Swann - Her apartment

But there are somethings that just can't be bought with money, like for example, the heart of a woman who loves someone else. Someone Sinclair knows is a scheming brat of a Capitolite who knows he's done wrong and just doesn't play the game by the rules that Gus set out. He can impound assets and reclaim properties that were scammed off him, but in the end, nothing would make Swann see the vile nature that comes with Jason Compson IV.

Even coming here makes the proud businessman feel second-tier to such a desperate waste of an Escort who could get slapped by a little girl if he were so stupid to pick a fight with. Sinclair was here to check up on his friend, he remembers the last time she was scared and lost in the events that transpired. True to his word, Augustus never mentioned Eta and her autonomy… but these conflicts were worrying him.

"Swannie? You in there, sugar?"

Comments

[whittlingnickels]

To hear Swann admit to being the brains of the schemes was a slap to Sinclair's face and for a moment, he saw red. That the culprit, the person who was stealing money or put the idea in that fetid Compson brain had been Swann all along. The skeptic in Gus wanted to either call her out, that she was using her connections to let the man run free. But that would end in a tragedy, especially with how deeply it shook the Honeymead heir. She was trying to help a man who didn't want help and that was a damn shame.

And as much as he claimed to Jason that he didn't feel that much affection towards Swann, it's her word that prompted him to take out his phone and place a call.

"Nina, have the team call off the Compson investigation, tell the other banks I will pardon Jason's debts on my own dime."

Swann can probably hear Miss Carnegie's "WHAT?!" from where Sinclair was but the assistant doesn't argue. She had an inkling where her boss was and who was the brains behind that message. She's told her boss to let the former escort go, but the finality of his order...Nina had to have guessed that this had to be the one last gift Gus could give Swann. "Right away sir." "You're a gift."

When Sinclair hung up, he sighed out, "You don't have to do a thing except keep this on the hush-hush. You've been doin' tha' family a favor an' I can't punish you for that." Because he knew that her heart lies with Jason, for better or worse.

[cigne]

To be fair, everything except the manipulation of Ben's money, that was all Jason, had probably been started back before she graduated high school, let alone started dating him. So Gus doesn't have to feel bad about all of his anger, probably only about 35%.

She watches him make the phone call with weepy bambi eyes, cringes to hear Nina on the other end. She half expects his assistant to refuse, talk him out of it, but then he's hanging up, and before he can say a word, she's practically diving between the two stools, into his lap because she's not tall enough to hug him standing up.

She's crying, avoiding his white collar, resting her head on her arm instead, and in this moment, she realizes exactly what she's done by falling in love with Jason, what she's done to Gus and her father and herself. Probably even to Jason. Maybe the only truly good thing to come out of it all is her protection of Ben, what she was able to offer there. And it doesn't matter because she can't take it back, can't change this path any more than she could change the color of the sky.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, gently touching her forehead to his, makeup streaming under her eyes. "About everything. I wish things were different."

[whittlingnickels]

"You don't hafta apologize, Swann," Sinclair shook his head slightly, and for a moment, he could almost picture a happy life, being with one of the last good Capitolites left. Of course she helped Jason out with his bind, the Capitol looks out for each other and for Panem itself. That he could've pursued her further than just business acquaintances, that maybe he could've beat Compson...but it's all a cruel dream.

"You shouldn't apologize for doin' what's best for those you love. He makes ya happy, an' that's what counts to me an' Ilar." He can't imagine what the Honeymead patriach is going through with all this and working himself to an early grave.

[cigne]

She smiles sadly, sniffles and straightens his collar. "I do have to apologize. It's all my fault. None of us would be in any of this mess if it weren't for me. The money, you and Jason at each other's throats. Daddy and everyone freaking out about the company. You... just you. You don't deserve any of this."

Swiping at her eyes, Swann glances away, sniffles again. "I don't want to hurt you just to help Jason. I love you too, I love you and Daddy, and look what I did. And it's not just this, it's... I don't know, Gus. It feels like I'm doing the wrong thing except that I don't know what to do without him."

She laughs bitterly. "I'm so stupid."

[whittlingnickels]

Swann's right, he doesn't deserve this but Gus chooses to engage in this farce, to allow her to make her own mistakes, and just carry on. So long as Jason doesn't actively hurt her. If Ilar had his way, even the mere thought of harm falling on his princess could end the war.

"Love makes us stupid Swannie. But as much grief as tha' man gives ya, yer bouncin' around full of energy," he finally admitted his own feelings in just a few hidden words but it's not about him that's suffering. "You sit tight, darlin' an' he'll never know what happened here."

[cigne]

She can't do much more than curl smaller than she already has, like she's willing him to absorb her and just let her escape everything by hiding away inside him. Her face falls from its empty, withered smile, and her eyes well up again as she shakes her head, her gaze fixed on her hands, his shirt.

"He's going to do something," she says softly, her brow knitted. "I don't know what. He said he'd come up with something. And... Gus, there's more, there's worse, but I can't tell you." She chokes and looks up at him with eyes like a scared lamb, her voice barely there. "He did something worse and I'm just as guilty as him because he told me about it. I didn't want to hear it, he just said it, and I kept the secret. I don't want to get Avoxed."

[whittlingnickels]

Sinclair could've accepted all this, that Jason was merely an idiot with too much old money and not enough common sense. He could've walked away and let Swann handle this mess and let her be happy with that fixer upper of a man. Right up until she said those words. Now whatever resignation Augustus had for this relationship came blowing back as a fury barely held back in his body language. He couldn't be the knight in shining armor for Swann, then what could he be?

"This stays between us-" Nina would have his head but he wrote down a few lines in a nearby napkin, "This is my personal address, confidential." She probably knew the place already, "If y'all gotta run for a while, you keep in contact like in the old days. I'll make sure yer daddy don't worry too much."

It might as well be the last time he saw her.

[cigne]

She doesn't look happy. She doesn't know that she is happy, because loving Jason is just as much pain as it is pleasure, and yet she's hopelessly, impossibly addicted to him. The noise she makes is more of a sob than anything else, choked and desperate and miserable, and she takes the napkin from him with a sniffle and a nod. It's an address she knows, of course, one she's been to in order to drop off presents -- of course, Gus spends so much time at work that she mostly winds up in his office.

But now, she can only cling to him, napkin in one hand and her tears falling on his collar. She wants him to be her knight in shining armor, she wants it so badly, but even she knows that she'd still pick the dragon over him. Swann would give anything to change it, to wrap herself and everyone she loves in the safety of letting go of Jason, but there are some things assi just can't buy.

It's too late for her. It doesn't have to be too late for everyone else.

"I love you, Gus," she whispers, putting one shaking hand to his cheek, her eyes rimmed in harsh red when she looks up at him.

[whittlingnickels]

Augustus wants to believe Swann's sweet words, he wanted to believe that he could take her away. But he can't believe her and his heart would harden up once more. She doesn't love him, she loves Jason even as he brings her down into dangerous waters she probably wouldn't have if she had stayed away from his path. If he can't be the knight in her story, nor the dragon, he might as well be the castle she can run back to. In any other person, Sinclair would've been disgusted by the idea, the mere thought of being the back-up plan.

But for her sake, he made the exception, whispering back the truth, "I love you too Swannie." There are no pretenses of business or Capitol lineages, this is Augustus as raw and bare as he's ever been to another human being.

"I should..." he can't even muster the word leave, because he knows that the moment he leaves, the damage will be irreparable.

[cigne]

Even to hear it back, it's like being punched in the throat, makes her entire body ache in ways she doesn't even understand. She thought she knew the extent of emotional pain, she thought she'd experienced it all. She didn't know until now how much worse it could get.

He's not just Gus. He's everything in life that she could have, knows she should have, and yet the sick, prickly tentacles that she and Jason have lashed to each other are thick and strong and unwilling to be broken. She feels so stuck and gutted, empty inside and desperately wanting.

"Don't," she whimpers, and it's such a base reaction that she never could have stopped it. She trembles from head to toe, shaking her head without thinking about it, even though she knows it doesn't matter if he leaves now or in the morning or never. When Jason calls, she'll come running.

Her love for him is all-encompassing. But her love for Jason is even greater than that.

[whittlingnickels]

A part of him, the cold and calculating businessman, tells Sinclair to finally let Swann go, to exit her apartment and leave her to her own devices. But there's something deeply human about all of this. He's agonizing inside, trying to extend his inevitably limited time with her. But the moment he spotted her phone, cute and so very her, he knows the truth. Jason will come and the man with the sixth largest fortune in Panem will become part of the noise.

"I hafta go, Swannie," he doesn't hide the raw break in his voice, a fracture as real as a shattered bone. "But stay safe. You deserve a happy life. I'll keep your father an' Eta safe, don't worry about that."

The businessman is already dismissing this as a contract gone south, the mortal self is reeling through it all.

[cigne]

She doesn't have the businesswoman part of her to be shrewd, to numb the agony even a little bit. The businesswoman that Swann is spends her time fighting for herself, for other people -- she is no more detached than the broken little bird Swann that lives in the same body.

Nothing hurts her like hurting other people. Nothing demolishes her the way she is demolished when she feels the cracking of the strong pillars in her life, the people who hold the weight of the world and her own crushing darkness off of her head. The pain is searing, seems to take up all the space in her body, and she is at a loss.

After, when she's hurt, she usually runs right to Sinclair's arms. Where does she go from here?

She moves away, finally, feels cold and small standing in front of him, barely able to stay on her feet. But she doesn't fall, even when every fiber of her very being wants to, because she fears she will never get up again.

[whittlingnickels]

When Swann does break away from their embrace, it feels like the frigid northern districts in the dead of winter. Outsiders looking in just see two Capitolites about to just part ways in what would've been a temporary crack in the friendship. Sinclair doesn't know what Jason did to get him and and Swann in trouble to this point, to throw away their birthright and remain in the Capitol's walls.

But for the first time in decades, Augustus feels hollowed out. The last time he felt like this, was to identify his grandfather's drowned corpse, leaving the young boy to fend for himself. And for a second, he really was staring at a dead woman. Swann was a lady raised in privileges, she has never known the strains of heavy work, and if it were up to Ilar, it'd stay that way. If Gus had his way, Jason would have his head mounted on a pike. But it wasn't what the woman before him would want.

Sinclair gave Swann one last tilt of the head before he headed out. Nina and his staff would be given the rest of the day off, to prepare for any big announcements by the Capitol. He doesn't know when he'll see the Honeymead heiress again but he knows what needs to be done.

[ooc: wrap here?]

throws you into a pit

[cigne]

"Bye," she whispers, hardly more than a breath, and she doesn't watch him go, can't make herself. Her lungs burn and feel swollen, panic making her frame feel even tinier and less capable of holding emotions than it already was. She waits until she hears the quiet click of the door behind him, and then she collapses to the marble floor of the kitchen, sobs and howls into her arms, kicks Eta away when she appears to tend to the sorrow.

Cakes that will soon be thrown away whole go cold on the counter.