#d2sejanusplinth

[rimeoverreason]

@d2sejanus--plinth

It had all happened suddenly and without any prior warning or buildup. He had simply gone to bed one evening after a mentally laborious day of officer training in District Two and the next morning he'd been brought into his superior's office to hear he would be returning to the Capitol promptly. The sequence of events that followed were still a blur but they somehow led to where he now currently was, headed back home.

Coriolanus found himself aboard the train and the thoughts in his head were still whipping by as fast as the scenery out the window. There was only one District between him and the Capitol, between him and the life he fought hard to not forget. Tigris, the Grandma'am. That he's returning so soon should put a spark in their eyes and he couldn't wait to surprise them. There was another who also wrapped around his heart, one that he couldn't shake the feeling had something to do with his swift return. One whose hands he could still feel tug upon his dogtags. Would he be at the station waiting for him? The only one there for his arrival, just as he was the only one at the station in District 12 for his departure.

The concrete weight of reality began to settle upon his shoulders. This was one more chapter closing and a fresh page being flipped over. The expanse of barren land out through the window would soon give way to both familiar and untrodden paths. Coriolanus felt the pressure start to build in his head, felt the pull once again within his very core. He hoped he wouldn't have to get right into things. He hoped he would have some time to think, some time to just be.

The train began to slow and Coriolanus picked up his officer's cap which he'd set on the seat beside him. Sweeping his thumb over the stitching his teeth found his lower lip; even such intense training couldn't keep his nerves at bay. But he couldn't step off the train looking frazzled, even if the entire station was empty. He had to fill that pit in his stomach and meet this next chapter head on. After putting his cap on and slinging his back over his shoulder Coriolanus walked to the door of the train car and already the echoing sounds of the station met his ears. Not much had changed from what he could make out so far as he stepped down onto the platform and it filled him with a sense of anticipation.

It only took a few more steps before he was stopped, coming toe to toe with that presence he'd sorely been without for months. "You know you don't have to worry about making a good impression on me anymore," he stated, the words barely holding back an imminent flood of emotion.

[rimeoverreason]

Coriolanus was sometimes infuriating. It wasn't a quality of his that he was unfamiliar with, not at all. He would do things that would drive Sejanus up the wall, that would make him click his tongue, that would make him worried.

He would do all those with a certain regularity. Right now, he'd been stuck in his office for well over six hours, mulling over the same paper, and Sejanus knew that, because he'd been there twice already, once, simply to check up on him, to ask if the headache from last night returned. And then the second time, going in with some cut slices of apple and some fresh strawberries for a sweet little break as he'd put it.

Now, it was the third time he was going in, and admittedly, he could recognize that he was probably being over the top. But Coriolanus did have that headache last night, and now, as he watched him from the threshold, eyebrows knitted and eyes a little cloudy, as he pored over that same paper, and then tender, bony knuckles pressing into his temples, he made up his mind. He needed a break, a real break. The fruit remained untouched, and a twinge of indignation rose inside of him.

He looked perfect, pristine even as he didn't have any meetings today. Coriolanus, his Coryo, was simply stunning, and when Sejanus dared to suggest that he wear more comfortable clothes when he has no meetings, he got a bit of a tirade in turn. There couldn't be a hair out of place while he was working.

Of course, that excluded the times Sejanus messed it all up. All the times he disrupted that perfection, because he could.

He strode into the office, and didn't say a word. Instead, he went over to Coriolanus, to his seat, and promptly plucked him from his chair, as if he were a doll. His strong arms held him firmly, with a little huff he lifted him, in one smooth boost, gathering his legs around his waist. “You've been staring at those documents for so long I think they might burst into flames.”

He didn't go very far, because, as rowdy as he was with disrupting Coriolanus' workflow, he knew when there was something important that he didn't want to be completely torn from it. He respected his work, as much as he hated it. He only made his way to one of the plush, big armchairs sitting to the side, with a little, tasteful coffee table in front of them.

Sitting down, he let Coriolanus curl up on his lap, and he kissed those same temples he dug his knuckles into, one side, then the other, his heart filled with warmth and worry. His lips found the line of Coriolanus' elegant neck. “Just sit with me, for a bit.”

It wasn't often that Coriolanus came upon a blockade as he followed different thoughts to different ends. The fault usually rested with those who came to him with problems, problems they didn't bother trying to sort out themselves. No, they always came to him and every time he spoke with them he watched as the confidence and courage left their eyes. A feeling would settle over the space then, that they'd made a mistake in taking up their President's precious time with their frivolousness.

This time, however, the fault laid with his own mind. As much as he looked over the draft of this year's arena, as much as he read and reread every word and picked apart every drawn line, he couldn't force his train of thought onward. It had reached the end of the line and Coriolanus knew that if he continued to try it would end up derailing and careen into the wall, rendering him utterly useless for the rest of the day.

He had barely lifted his gaze the first two times Sejanus came to check in on him. He was like one of those tiny figures in a clock, gliding in and out of those equally tiny doors to announce the hour. Leave it to his doctor to worry about a simple headache, though Coriolanus would rather have that than the alternative of him not caring. Perhaps he should eat the fruit he'd brought. Did he even have breakfast? Lunch? What time even was it . . .

The decision was made for him as Sejanus entered for the third time and strode over to him with a singular mission in mind. It still managed to surprise him, just how strong Sejanus was. He was picked up and wrapped around him like an empty sack and he hooked his arms around his neck, more so to keep close than for support. He'd wager he could be picked up easily with only one arm.

"They'd more likely decompose in that time than spontaneously combust," Coriolanus countered rather unseriously. In his mind the papers dissolved into his desk as he so dissolved into Sejanus' lap. The kisses to his temples like two shots of morphling bringing unparalleled relief, allowing his body to untense and gently lean against the other. No urging, not even the Capitol's soldiers would be able to move him from that spot. He exhaled deeply, longingly, with the sound of a contented mmmm as those lips greeted his neck. "I am sitting with you," he managed to mumble as he reached up a hand to run lazily through that dark and inviting hair.

[rimeoverreason]

Continued from here | @d2sejanus--plinth

Never.

Somehow that word sunk into his bones more than the change in the air did. More than he thought it would. The bold and fun buzz from earlier had long worn off but now it'd been replaced with a steady, warm hum. When he heard most people speak it was like hearing static. But with this single word it was like hearing something concrete. Something stable. It was a word spoken by a voice he could trust.

He smiled back at Sejanus as he fell into step with him, a genuine smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth instead of him consciously deciding to do so. They were a rarity in that he hardly ever showed anyone such a full picture of himself. There was always a mask of sorts that he affixed to his face each morning and it stayed secure, allowing others to only see skin deep. Yet here he was, gracing Sejanus of all people with a little peek beneath the veneer.

"He'll be preparing jokes about it to last him the rest of the week," he quipped lightly as one of his eyes appeared to twitch, another rumble following at their heels. An all too startling reminder of the war, of the bombs that shook the same streets the pair were now walking. "The clouds I have no problem with, but that thunder is an absolute menace." Coriolanus eyed the umbrella at Sejanus' side and at the same time he swore he could feel a few raindrops hit the back of his neck.

Casting his eyes upward he felt another raindrop fall upon his cheek and he tapped his knuckles against Sejanus' arm. "I think now's the time to open that, if you don't mind."

[rimeoverreason]

@d2sejanus--plinth

The entirety of his Academy uniform felt oppressive. It wasn't even a particularly hot day yet the atmosphere fell heavily around him, trying to push him down through the pavement. Between classes in the early half of the day Coriolanus had dug into his head to try and recover as much as he could from the previous evening. The excavation only turned up bits and pieces and most were inconsequential; he didn't particularly desire to remember the actual taste of the alcohol or how his voice seemed to lose its surety and definitive tone while under its influence.

There was one instance, however, that stood out clear as day that he was actively trying to ignore. He wanted more than anything to push it back into the hole he dug in his mind and bury it alive . . . bury it deep. But he held himself back, the thought of its muffled screaming as it clawed its way back to the surface enough to send a shiver through him. And he didn't want it coming back stronger, either.

As he headed to lunch Coriolanus didn't even glance at the food for the rolling in his stomach only increased as he crossed the threshold and was met with the usual loud chatter that filled the cafeteria. He felt like he was being led into a trap he was fully aware of, the only open seat being the one he always sat at facing the person he always sat with. Even the back of Sejanus' head looked different somehow and his fingers twitched as the memory of how his hair felt between them jabbed at him.

He couldn't just continue to stand there like some weirdo, however, and so he bade himself to move in the only direction he could. "I think I've just about had enough of Doctor Gaul commandeering all of our classes," he said as he sat down, hoping such a basic comment could steer things in a normal direction from the start. Yet his eyes remained cast downward at the table with his arms folded in front of him. It was cowardly and he even admitted to himself it was so. But he couldn't lift his gaze, at least not yet.

Not until Sejanus spoke.

[rimeoverreason]

Like a Fish in a Desert - Period AU

@d2sejanus--plinth (because I just could not help myself)

These gatherings were starting to get the better of him.

It was always the same group of people with the same mindless chatter. No one ever brought anything new to the ballroom and, frankly, they wouldn't. They all shunned the new but instead of actively pushing back they barricaded themselves in their old houses and old jewels with turned up noses praying their fortresses would hold as they always did. To them they could weather any storm that came blowing through.

Coriolanus Snow was one of them. Or at least a part of them, their circle, their way of life. The Snow family had been one of the cornerstones for decades and was headed more recently by the late General Crassus Snow. It was believed Coriolanus would continue the family's military heritage but he shoved those whispers out of his ears every time he heard them. He wanted nothing more than to be kept as far away from a war as possible.

To him, navigating society was itself a battlefield and many who poked their heads in too soon were shot down by the old guard without any mercy. Their gossip spattered the streets like blood and they all congratulated each other with the same sharp look in their eyes. They'd been without a good victory for some time but as he heard the doors open and the butler announce the newly arrived guests his attention perked up.

"Ah, mister and missis Strabo Plinth. Welcome." He heard the hostess draw out the last name, the th of it making it sound like she was talking about gutter creatures. No doubt she was thinking it.

Taking a few steps closer he was able to get a better look at them. New blood if I ever saw it. And very fresh. He smirked and willed himself to chuckle to himself a bit. They'd be eaten five times over by the time the evening was done. But there was a third figure behind them and as he tipped his head up to see it came forward.

"And mister Sejanus Plinth, what a pleasure this is."

Very fresh blood indeed.

[rimeoverreason]

Almost Like Family

@d2sejanus--plinth

Coriolanus awoke slowly, a cool dampness having settled upon his face like a mask. Draped over him was the deep maroon comforter from his bed however he soon realized he was not in bed. He wasn't even inside the mansion at all.

Propping himself up onto his elbows he gazed at his surroundings, drifting his head slowly from one side to the other. A fog hung in a steady layer around him; with not even a slight breeze every breath was inhaling a heaviness that sat defiantly within his lungs. He was lying on the wide stone wall that enclosed the mansion's lower grounds. To his right sat the opulent greenhouse and to his left stretched the undeveloped land as far as he could see. The comforter was the only pop of color around him except for the black of his pants--only after sitting up did he notice how he was dressed: black pants, black vest, and a cream-colored dress shirt. Upon lowering himself to the ground did he also realize that he was barefoot.

It was odd. It was all odd. His body felt normal and yet it was like there was an undercurrent of electricity humming beneath his skin and inside his head. It wasn't a dream, surely, for he didn't remember falling asleep.

Though that was it, wasn't it?

Coriolanus didn't feel like thinking on it, a rarity when it came to him. Rather, he stared intently at the land beyond the wall. Something felt familiar about it and as he continued to gaze patches started to fill in the blind spots in his mind. Shadows. Howls that sounded like human voices.

"Doesn't it sound like they're talking to us?"

After only a few steps forward the scent of his roses struck him. The air was saturated with it and coupled with the fog it prickled his skin, even through his clothing. The greenhouse was far enough away that it couldn't be coming from there but the tree line was still some distance ahead of him. However, as if summoned, Coriolanus felt a softness underfoot. Looking down he moved what it was with his toes--a rose petal. Red, unlike the selectively bred white of his own creation. Eyes drifting upward he saw a trail of them beckoning to him.

What else was there to do except follow.

[rimeoverreason]

Fusing and Defusing

@d2sejanus--plinth

"You mean nothing to me."

Those were the last words he remembered saying, hissed out of clenched teeth and followed with a laugh that Coriolanus was certain made her think he was certifiably mad. But it was a statement that he couldn't have kept in much longer and once he'd made it he'd turned and walked out of their room while ignoring a tirade of shouts.

No, it wasn't their room. It was his room. He shared nothing with the person who was considered his wife. Save for the piece of paper that their names shared they were as separate as strangers.

The halls of the presidential mansion were quiet as he stepped from one to turn down another. Coriolanus likened the building to a maze some of the Gamemaker's mutts were put through and the skinny bottle of half-drunken posca made it feel even more so like one. It was the lightest stuff he saw to grab when he found himself passing the kitchen, giving the Avoxes at work cleaning barely a blink.

What he did notice was the clock on the wall. 03:40 am. He merely quirked a brow at the ticking hands that waved at him to continue his wandering. He was soon staring down at a familiar patterned wood floor, one whose hallway he'd slipped down numerous times before. If the other halls were quiet this one was practically uninhabited at such an hour. But that did him a favor as he stopped before a door that looked no different than any of the others. After a small sip from the now warming bottle he tapped his knuckles against the door, the platinum band around his ring finger clicking nicely.

Why am I even waiting? I could just let myself in.

And he did. And like that he demeanor changed. A grin broke out onto his otherwise tired looking face and he ran a quick hand through his hair which was messily parted down the middle. Propping himself up against the door he attempted to focus his gaze upon the only thing that made sense so late at night.

"Sejanus, I see you're also awake." A brief pause. Perhaps I am going mad. "Good thing because I would've just kept walking in circles."

[rimeoverreason]

@d2sejanus--plinth sent sender traces one of receiver’s scars / bruises

It's been years, now, since that night in the arena. The night where he'd taken his first life. The night where he'd first saved the life of the one whose job it now was to look after his health. Every so often that meant a check on the scars Coriolanus received back then. A metaphorical reopening of old wounds. With his shirt unbuttoned and lowered from off his shoulders he let Sejanus poke at and rub those discolored and rough areas of his flesh.

The burn scar went as it always did; the feeling of fingertips tracing its blocky outline, the boundary that separated normal skin from the mess that ran down nearly half of his back. There was some tightness but he expected that and he expected to get a somewhat firm reminder to stretch out that shoulder more often once the examination was over. But he'd give Sejanus the same answer with his usual smirk: Find a way to fit it into my schedule.

It was when those fingers hopped the ridge of his spine that Coriolanus felt a change. While the burn was impersonal, the stab wound was not. The warmth of a palm atop the scar made him tense slightly before letting out a long exhale and relaxing. He wondered if Sejanus blamed himself for it even after all this time. He likely did.

As he felt a thumb press down and swipe slowly across from one side to the other he rolled that shoulder back. There was nothing to work out with it, nothing physical at least. Coriolanus' head lolled to the side slightly as more fingers joined the massage though they soon strayed from their target and reached toward his collarbone. "Watch it," he said in a tone most unconvincing, "you're getting off track."