Late Night Conversations [Seneca and Lucius]

Seneca was exhausted to say the least. Parties were bad enough, but something as large and important as this Cornucopia Day event was several times as bad as any normal event. Between the drunk escort, the children running around the place, and constantly looking over his shoulder for President Snow let alone when he actually had to speak to him... There wasn't a part of Seneca that wasn't feeling over-worked. So as soon as they had gotten home the man had sent Lucius off to get ready for bed. He was about ready to just pass out in the living room right there, but wishing he could go lay down in his room and get comfortable. That would have been nice. The warm and comfy bed in his room calling out for a good nights sleep and yet like every other night for the past several months the man didn't go. He couldn't just go sleep. There was work, there was so much work, it required all of his attention. Even more than any Games prior he just couldn't rest through this one. Not with it being actually Games week especially. The party was up, impressing other Capitolites and the president in person was done for the moment. Meeting new people from the districts wouldn't happen for quite some time. It was back to regular business now and although he had consistently checked up on the Games throughout the party he hadn't been on a constant watch. There was a capable team of technicians there and Gamemakers to hold the things together. But Seneca wasn't a trusting person either. And the fact that the Games were an easy thing to access for watching purposes did nothing to deter him from checking. He'd be to work early in the morning but that just wasn't good enough.

After a tired hug and goodnight between himself and his boy, Seneca had picked up his tablet and settled down to sit on the couch. He laid back with his head on the arm of the couch, searching through some reports for a moment. He didn't want to have missed anything. Nothing at all. It would come down on him even though he hadn't been there so he wanted to at least know what had happened while he was trying to please Snow even more. It seemed an impossible task that the head gamemaker was always scurrying about the place trying to accomplish but never quite reaching the end. Something always came up. With Snow it seemed he was either threatening, neutral, or actually ordering a death. Seneca couldn't say he'd ever seen the man happy or pleased but he still continued to try. At least then he could keep the man from being angry.

Some time during the hour though the man had started to drift off to sleep. Watching the tributes settle in for the night wasn't crazily exciting, but even if it had been Seneca wasn't sure he could have stayed awake at this point. His mind was spent after that party and his eyes slowly closed until he drifted off into a light sleep. The tablet still running the Games video, still nicely dressed although he had loosened up the shirt a bit, just laying on his couch he wasn't as comfortable as he could have or should have been. But the sleep was enough as he didn't seem to notice Lucius approach. His grip loosened and let go of the tablet as soon as the child took it from him and he would have contently remained asleep. Except the boy wanted his attention. The gentle shaking mixed with his son's voice seemed to pull him out of what sleep he was getting.

"Lucius..." The man started as he opened his tired blue eyes to look toward Lucius' face. He would have told him to go to bed, but in seeing the look on his face he just couldn't. This wasn't just bugging him, and the child continued and explained. Resisting the urge to still wave him off Seneca pushed himself to sit up on the couch. "Did you eat too much..? Those parties are horribly easy to do that with." He commented, giving a yawn at the end and covering his mouth as he did. He'd finally managed some rest but he also couldn't be upset with Lucius over it. He wasn't feeling well. Seneca promised to always be there when he wasn't feeling well and so here he would be. Sure he could have sent him off to Cade and gone back to sleep but that would have made him just like his father. The man who wouldn't even hug his own son. There was no way that Seneca would let himself be like that.

Seneca rubbed his eyes a bit as he got up, still trying to completely wake up. The half asleep look definitely wasn't his greatest but nobody was really looking. "Do you want to sit down here or go lay down on my bed?" He asked, putting one arm gently around his son's shoulders. His bed was larger and comfortable, he'd always allowed the boy when he was younger to come in when he was scared or sick. There was room.

Seneca looked over the child for a moment as he let himself wake up and listen. He should have expected that the boy would eat so much after wandering off like he did. He was happy for that though. That the boy had made himself a friend and had actually gone off to do something. With how little the child went for social interaction it had come as a pleasant shock that he had. Seneca was glad for Rue, even if it was only a one night event, that she had even managed such a thing. His gaze stayed on his boy for a moment longer

"You may have eaten a little bit too much." The man said with a bit of a nod toward him. Wasn't much of a surprise really. He supposed the boy was already feeling the results of what he had eaten. There wasn't a need to further the stress by getting upset toward him. So he let him have the moment to think, keeping his arm tight around his shoulder and watching for the look on the boy's face. He gave a shake of his head and patted Lucius' shoulder. "You're the one feeling the stomach ache because of what you ate. Don't be apologizing to me." He commented, glancing around the room to be sure that Cade hadn't come out of his room hearing the voices. He didn't want to disturb the older man or leave him waiting to figure out if something needed to be done. "And you are worth waking up for Lucius, don't doubt that one bit. You do not have to apologize for telling me you are sick." He wanted the child comfortable, and though tired he gave a genuinely encouraging smile toward his son. He knew what it felt like to be sick of all different things and he knew well the desire to be with someone in those times.

Seneca gave a bit of a nod at his answer, having expected it. He looked around quickly for his tablet though when he remembered it. He was all but attached to the thing. It was enough time he moved his arm from around the boy and didn't notice him looking at the coffee table. He was too busy making sure he hadn't dropped the thing between couch cushions or something like it. "Who did wha- oh those. Well.." He looked over mid sentence, seeing the boy looking at the pictures. Of course even sick the child would be interested in art. Seneca had been quite interested as well, he'd looked it over after settling down but had to move on. "A boy named Matthias made those. You haven't met him. But... a friend of his gave them to me and said we might enjoy looking at them." He gave a slight shrug, then a relieved looked as he saw that the tablet had simply been set down on the table. He went to pick it up, looking back to Lucius again though as he picked up another.

"You can take the whole stack with us you know?" He gave a bit of a smile. The man loved his son's appreciation for the art. He motioned him to come as he started for the hallway that led to his room. He hadn't particularly lied about the pictures, just left out the fact that the artist was a tribute and that was why his son hadn't met him. Seneca glanced back, then moved into the bedroom quietly and set his tablet down on the nightstand. He'd leave it in case someone sent him something but his goal was to comfort Lucius, not work right now. Family first.

Seneca gave a nod to him with a bit of a smile. He held his arm around him for a bit longer, enjoying knowing that his son was happy. That he was feeling pretty good even with the stomach ache. Happy anyways, and happy was important. Of course all that Seneca wanted to do was go back to sleep but that wouldn't happen. Not now. "I love you too Lucius. I'm glad you had a good night. I was worried..." He was definitely worried about Lucius before the party. He'd invited the boy to come but was worried when he heard that he would be. He didn't want him to feel alone or get overwhelmed. He wanted it to be a fun experience but he was worried that it would turn out absolutely horrible for all of them. If Lucius wasn't happy the stress would have been so much worse.

"Matthias yes. He's a uh..." Seneca looked up from his looking for things and shrugged a bit as he tried to decide how to explain Matthias to his boy. it wasn't like he hid from him what the Games were or what happened in them. He'd shown him enough and said enough he was sure that Lucius understood the death and fighting of it all. But discussing it directly was a different story. Even if the boy understood what it all ways that didn't mean he liked it. Seneca had a feeling the innocent and sweet boy of his would never like the Games for anything but the artistry in creating them. Which was okay really. Seneca loved making them, but wouldn't throw a fit if they were less lethal. There was something about holding peoples' lives in his hands though...

The man looked back as the boy followed him into the bedroom. it had given him enough time to consider what he was going to say to him. There was no nice way to say that he would likely never meet Matthias. There wasn't a nice way about any of it. "Well no... I don't think you can meet Matthias... he's a bit busy. I didn't even actually meet him. Just his friend." He stopped, frowning as more questions came. More and more although not quite the same attacking pace he normally got. He let the boy get settled, then simply sat down on the other side of the bed. Why bother changing clothes at this point. He'd have to change again in a couple more. Seneca looked down and took one of the pictures from the stack, looking at it carefully. "Well... Matthias is special in more ways... He is from a district. His friend was at the party but, he was busy elsewhere. Not actually at the party. He is... uhm..." The man was sure that his pause would give away that the answer wasn't pleasant. He just hoped the rest wouldn't bring tears.

"Matthias is a tribute. It was Falro Killian that gave them to me, his mentor, toward the end of the party after you went off to find Rue again. He... Matthias is one of the younger tributes, and he was deaf before, and Falro gave them to me asking that I sponsor Matthias." Seneca admitted with a bit of a sigh and rubbing his chin just a bit with nerves. He didn't want to say that, he knew now that it was likely Lucius wouldn't let him get away from sponsoring the boy. He looked down to the art, taking a deep breath as he did, just waiting for the storm of sadness to come.

Seneca frowned more, trying to look away as he could just feel the tears starting. There was just that feeling to the air that he knew something was coming. He knew his son well and there was no way that he wouldn't start. If Seneca hadn't been so desensitized over the years he may have joined him. But at Lucius' age he hadn't been bothered by the Games, he'd been interested. A bitter and angry boy with creative energy to spare, they'd intrigued him early on. He'd never felt remorse or any sort of connection to the tributes, but then he wasn't raised to either. Raised with the event as the biggest thing of his year, even more parties than his birthday, he found himself enjoying it. More than even today he'd likely admit. But he hadn't stayed that way, his anger had faded and seemed to lift a bit of that. Particularly the addition of the child had made him question things. As the boy grew closer to being twelve, the nightmares of having to watch his son in the arena... Some tributes triggered the sinking feeling easier than others. The younger innocent ones... like Matthias just a bit. He didn't want to think of it.

"I..." Seneca turned to look at his boy, starting to shake his head as he tried to think of an explanation. One that wouldn't throw the issue into a fit or a horrible guilt trip but that just seemed... well it seemed impossible because it was. There were moments where he regretted not raising Lucius in complete support of the Games like he was raised. Of course he personally still enjoyed the creativity and the feeling of control over so much. So many things were in his hands, it made him feel powerful and important. The arenas were his art, from the large picture of landscapes and climate to the smallest of details, they were his. And there was always the intrigue of the tributes themselves... Predicting them kept it exciting. Of course there was a part of him, the humanity that Lucius' very existence pulled at, which made the Head Gamemaker periodically reconsider his life choice. The Games themselves. Never out loud, never shared, but lingering at the back of his mind. For all of his enjoyment, there was still the factor that it made Lucius cry. Even if the moral side hadn't kicked in just yet.

He took a breath again and rubbed his neck. "I uh... Lucius hold it for a moment. Hold it." Seneca said, shaking his head at the boy as he tried to finish a thought. "You have to realize I can't just sponsor anybody. It would be great if I could just sponsor Matthias for this art. It's lovely, it's talent, he reminds me of myself and you..." More so Lucius, as from what he had seen of the boy he couldn't hurt anyone really. Not on a normal day. Lucius was one he was sure couldn't hurt anything on purpose. Even if he'd tried to raise him liking the Games a part of the man said that his little Luc could never appreciate it. Would never wanted to. And a good part of him was very appreciative of that fact even.

"Snow has expectations... there are a lot of things to consider and..." His attempt failed though and the man looked down once more. He couldn't stand the thought of Lucius in Matthias' place. That was a heart breaking image he just couldn't get over. The man hugged Lucius close to him as he thought, giving a bit of a nod. "If he wins... you will meet him. I promise that and..." He looked to the pictures as Lucious pointed them out. "I... We can sponsor him." He finally said with a bit of sureness, lifting his icy gaze to meet Lucius'. He was quiet for a moment, reaching to wipe a tear from his cheek. "I can't promise he will make it... or he will do well but... We can do something. And you can help. But... We can't do the tears. You're going to make me start crying too."

"It's not that easy Lucius... I can afford to sponsor whoever I want but I have to consider very carefully. If the wrong tribute wins... if something doesn't go as Snow wants... Luc if Snow doesn't get his way I don't get to come home." There was a fearful look to the man's face at even the thought of that. Of being forced to leave Lucius because he chose to sponsor with his heart rather than his mind trying to predict Snow's mind. Oh if he was anyone else in the Capitol he could spill all of his money on the most adorable tributes that reminded him of his boy but... he wasn't any other Capitolite. He was Seneca Crane, Head Gamemaker. Every move he made was either watched by Snow or the entirety of the Capitol and even Panem. Even a hair out of place on his beard may be caught, let alone an unusual sponsor choice. Even anonymously sponsoring there was the likelihood that somebody would catch on to just who it was. If even catching a glimpse of signed notes. Which he could send without a name but... how encouraging was that?

The man looked down, holding his son close in his arms as listened to his words. He would admit the boy was quite convincing. He was hard to say no to that was for sure. Seneca closed his eyes, moving his fingers through the boy's hair as he held him. "I wish it was that simple... So much would be so much easier to live with if it were..." It would be, but it wasn't. His son was a dreamer, even more so than he had ever been. It was something that caused him both wonder and fear for the child. It was adorable from a child. But as an adult some of his ideas were just dangerous. He didn't want to see the consequences. He could only hope that there never were any. "I do love to help the underdog. And we can all appreciate a better story. Something new. All of us except, him, and I worry-" He started, but stopped from going any further. It wasn't Lucius' problem that Snow was picky and impossible to please. No, he was just a child and there was no reason for him to worry about those things. "He is somewhat like you and I want to help him. I do. It would keep interest, it would give him a chance I just..."

Silence fell over Seneca as he heard his son again. The demand, that wasn't too demanding as far as children went, was a difficult one. Why couldn't he demand ice cream or candy or new toys? That would be so much easier to handle and respond to. A no wouldn't cause him even half the guilt he felt in this moment. No his boy was just as complicated as he was. The deeper questions, the more important ones, those were the ones that stuck around enough to ask. Seneca had learned to keep his mouth shut most of the time but he wasn't quite passing that on to Lucius just yet. He maybe should have but there was a large part of him that loved how open the boy was with him. The rest of him hated how guilty he could make him feel. But guilt only happened when he inside felt bad and so maybe he should thank his son. Or hate the fact of how good he was at reaching into the feelings he had locked away long ago.

"I-We will do what we can. Everything we can." Seneca finally promised, opening his icy blue eyes and glancing toward the door as if expecting to see Snow standing right there to scold him on the choice. No he'd get that after they actually sent their help. He watched Lucius and took a deep breath, shaking his head as he looked to the boy's eyes. "We need to do it right though. I promise to help, but only if you will join me." He reached again to clean off his face, having a hard time not joining his crying. Not particularly for the tribute, but because he felt so horrible seeing Lucius crying over anything.

"He's an artist and so are we. The best help we can give a tribute, right now, is hope." Seneca sat up, setting his hands on his son's shoulders. "A sponsor gift may say someone likes him, but something more special. More personal. Says someone cares, and he is not alone."

Seneca took a deep breath and gave a shake of his head. "He can Luc... Matthias is sweet and young... and not a career. Snow likes the careers which Reko is one. He'd rather I help out Reko instead of Matthias. That's how that works you know..." He reached and stroked Lucius' head quietly as he considered just how he could explain to Snow the choice he was making. How to explain to Snow would be harder than explaining to Lucius. Lucius would cry but at the end of the day they still loved each other. Snow wasn't like that but... Seneca didn't have to see him every day either. He looked down quietly. "I hope you are right then. I really do..." He finally sighed at that. He was done arguing. Done looking at that sad little face. He couldn't say no anymore. He hadn't said no.

Despite deciding that he didn't want to argue anymore, it still surprised himself when he finally did agree. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his chin as he thought. How could they do something special? If Seneca Crane and his son were going to sponsor a tribute, they were going to do it right. Big, important, special. The man gave a small nod to Lucius about the money, but he wasn't thinking about money. That was the last thing on his mind. He looked to Lucius after a moment and shook his head. "We will come up with money. That is the easy part..." He commented to him, trying to keep the boy's face clean. He didn't want him to cry. He was doing what he wanted, what he seemed so interested in having done. That could stop the tears, couldn't it? He hoped so anyways. He would have liked to sleep but he knew that wouldn't happen now. Not for a while anyways. Tomorrow he'd have to go to work, drink some good coffee, and just hope he could stay awake. And hope that tomorrow wasn't the day that Snow wouldn't decide he wanted a meeting. Oh how he hoped not. It was bad enough when he was completely awake but when he was falling asleep standing up. Not a pretty thought.

The man thought a moment longer, then nodded at Lucius. "Yes. A drawing. That is what I was thinking. We are both smart now, aren't we?" Seneca managed a smile and pulled the boy close into his arms. He grinned more as he considered it and nodded. He let go, moving over and standing up. "That is a wonderful idea. Think about what we would draw and I will find the things." He promised. And he needed a moment. Maybe to get started early on that coffee. He moved from the room and tried to keep a hurry. He didn't want to leave Lucius to thoughts that might make him start crying again. He moved into the spare room, which he had put toys previously but mainly art supplies of all sorts in. It was a creative space, where he didn't bring work into. Where he and Lucius could do some painting or drawing for fun, instead of for the Games. It had been used less than he liked in the last couple of months.

He searched, grabbing some paper and a box of colored pencils. A pencil drawing was easier to fold up and put in a sponsor package. He glanced around the room, then moved into the hallway again. He nearly ra into poor old Cade, the avox looking up from carrying some laundry for them. "Oh Cade, could you get some coffee going. I have a feeling it will be a long night for myself and Lucius.... Though might want to stick to juice for him." He grinned a bit at the last part, giving the older avox a gentle pat on the shoulder before moving back to his own bedroom. Cade had simply given a nod and moved to get that started for them. Seneca moved back to his room, smiling to Lucius and holding up the drawing supplies before he came and sat down with him again. He got comfortable, then put his arm back around Lucius again as if he hadn't left at all.

"Sheep. That's right." Seneca gave a bit of a nod at that. Sheep were something he hadn't drawn before. Hadn't even seen one. Almost wished he had, but his own wishes were another day and another subject. "It's late but, yes we will do it tonight. The drawing at least. The gift will have to wait until morning. Sit up, lets figure out what we are drawing and we will have a wonderful piece by the end of the night. I just might not get to sleep." He gave a bit of a grin before setting down the sketchbook of paper that they could draw it on. "So we are doing sheep for him then? In a nice field like this. It would be nice to see all of this in person. The things he drew."

Seneca would have argued the point with Snow further, if he knew it would make a difference. But the boy was set in his mind on the subject. There was no way he could actually convince him otherwise. It wasn't that simple with Snow. Really the last thing he was concerned about was keeping the Capitol entertained. That was Seneca's job to worry about, no the President wanted to be sure he still had control of the districts with it. For him the Games were a means of control and Seneca was well aware of that. If Seneca's Games weren't bloody and active enough, and the right things didn't happen, he could say good bye to the living world. And he wasn't ready for that. He had a son and a life to be a part of. Getting killed over the Games was not the way he wanted to go out.

He couldn't help grinning when Lucius spoke though. "Good to see you got a little bit of his confidence too." He commented, squeezing him close for a moment. He couldn't help but be happy with the statement. They were close, there was no doubting that, but hearing him say it so proudly made Seneca even happier. He had a tendency to be worried about how his son felt. About him, about their lives, about his job. Even without in depth discussion on the subject the man could tell. They weren't things his boy was happy with. Or proud of at all. To hear him say so pleasantly that they were alike was a small but very meaningful encouragement that things were still alright between them. Even after a disagreement about sponsoring choices. Of course he would let Lucius buy some things now that he had agreed. And they'd go all out for Matthias. Didn't mean he felt confident that Snow would not be angry but at least his child would be happy with the choice.

It seemed when he returned that the boy had a clear image in his head. The fact that Lucius liked the idea was great. The suggestion made sense at least. Although drawing the tribute himself would be the hardest part. Not that the technical skill would be any more difficult than the sheep or making the field look right, but thinking that hard about the young man's face... That would be the hardest part. He could do it. If anything he could do it to make Lucius happy. The man gave a bit of a nod, pulling out the pencils he wanted to use right off as he thought of how he was going to go about starting the picture off. He looked to Lucius. "We can draw this together. I might be able to remember his face... you can help with the rest of the picture without that. We can get it done fast enough to get at least an hour of sleep before we have to be up. I think. If we work fast." Seneca gave a shrug at that. Part of him was still hopeful that he could get some sleep. The rest of him knew very well that sleep was impossible for him to get regularly. He would never be normal with his sleep patterns, between work and his son.

It wasn't long after he started drawing that the boy perked up with another question. He'd like to go see things like they had in Four. That Seneca would agree with. Going to see more of the beauty that was possibly hidden away in the districts was something he would love to do. If he were allowed. But the retreat to four hadn't been a common thing. It was a one time and one place deal. There was no now this district or that, it was done. Work resumed, the Games were going. But it seemed the small trip had gotten Lucius' hopes up. He knew he shouldn't have let him come. To that or the party. The Gamemaker sighed and shook his head at his son, keeping an arm around his shoulders.

"You don't know how much I wish I could do that for you. Take you to see the districts and what could be out there. But.. You know we can't do that Lucius..." He was prepared this time for oncoming tears. No matter how much it broke Seneca's heart he couldn't say yes. He knew that Snow would not allow it. He knew that time wouldn't even allow it. The man shook his head, looking to the paper as he scribbled in some background grass. "I'm sure Rue was nice. I'm sure her home is beautiful, I have heard the orchards are splendid. But.. there are rules. Travel is a rare thing and I can't justify a family vacation out to a place like Eleven..." Seneca was unaware of just what conditions were in Eleven but he did know they weren't too rich and were on the bottom of Snow's list. His ignorance to the true living situations of the districts helped him to handle his job better. He knew they were nothing like the Capitol he knew there were differences, he wasn't dumb. But the extent of how poor some were had not ever really set in.

"I wish I could Lucius... I really do..."