if i'm on fire you'll be made of ashes, too

[victoriams]

Livinia had never cared much for her husband's family. Granted, she had never really tried to endear herself to them – always far to preoccupied with her own family to worry about anyone else's. And it wasn't as though she actively disliked the Plinths – far from it, in fact. Sometimes, she thought they were probably more functional than her own twisted lineage. She was just... apathetic towards them. They were tied to her through marriage and happenstance, and nothing more. They were a part of her in the same way as her toenails were – there, certainly, but generally not worth thinking about.

FINNEGAN was, unfortunately, more of a daily nuisance to Livinia than the rest of her in-laws. He was talented, sure – or, at least, she assumed he was, given that he'd managed to secure this job – but something about him bothered her. She thought it was probably his arrogance. Sure, Finn might share a surname and some vague resemblance with her husband, but, unfortunately, it seemed that he had inherited none of the same humility. He roamed around the gamemaker's stations with undeserved cockiness, and, most days, it took all of Livinia's patience not to snap at him.

"Excuse me?" Livinia replies, narrowing her eyes in disdain. "You'd do well to watch your tone, Finnegan. Never mind the fact that I am your superior, you'll never get anywhere in the world or the workplace behaving like a spoilt little brat, and refusing to take accountability for your own actions." Okay, maybe this was a touch unfair – but Livinia certainly wouldn't be the one to take the blame for Finn spilling coffee all over himself.

[ricochct]

to no one's surprise, the disdain went both ways - like an unspoken yet mutual agreement between the two. she knew finn to be a nuisance with talent for his job, obviously, and he knew her to be... well, she was there. clearly not a fan of his, and that would have been enough for him to not quite enjoy her company. with the added fact of her attitude towards him, in his opinion for no good reason, it made a recipe for an unfortunately rocky relationship between the pair.

white uniform now stained and coffee cup empty, he had even more reason to dislike her than he normally would. this, furthered by the fact that she blamed him for the collision when it quite clearly had been her who had so ruthlessly barged into him. he scoffed, tongue wetting his lips as he nodded with a humourless smile. shook his hand dry of the brown liquid in lieu of the napkin he didn't have.

somewhere in the back of his mind spoke a voice which told him to leave it, that it wasn't worth biting back when she so clearly was in a mood. this was, evidently, his better judgement. and as he always did, he ignored it. "you're excused." a gracious offer, wasn't it? "so you're gonna walk into me - almost fucking breaking my nose, also, thank you - and then, what, get me in trouble for it? classy."

[damagedflames]

MOCKINGJAYSFM + BROADWAY (18/?)

Finnigan Plinth → Let's Be Bad by Some Like It Hot

@ricochct

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: ANTONIA VICKERS & OPEN ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: TRIBUTE TOWER, LOBBY BAR ᴡʜᴇɴ: SECOND DAY OF THE GAMES

For the most part, Antonia's job was over long before the games had commenced. Sure, she still had a few final touches to make on some of her creations ( there were some that she was particularly proud of this year ). And, sure, she could always be working on something new for next year, or the year after, or the year after that. She could be down in her dark, dingy lab, running experiments and taking samples and what have you – but, instead, we find Antonia in the tribute tower bar, taking what ( they believe to be, at least ) a very well-deserved break.

In one hand, she has a glass of white wine, in the other, a mouse. No reader, you have not interpreted this incorrectly. Here, we introduce Antonia Vickers, but we must also present Norman McMouse, former inhabitant of the tower laboratories, current inhabitant of Antonia's purse. Antonia sips at her wine and examines Norman for a few moments as he scuttles around on her palm, before releasing him onto the bar in front of her.

Antonia smiles to herself as she watches Norman skitters across the counter, pulling a handful of pumpkin seeds and feeding them to the mouse slowly. They pause only when they sense the presence of someone hovering over their shoulder. "You can sit down, you know. He doesn't bite." She says, popping one of the pumpkin seeds into her mouth as she speaks.

[ricochct]

surely, finnegan was imagining things. it ought to be the combination of staying up all night, doing anything but sleeping, working for hours and staring at screens, plotting and scheming for the sake of causing entertainment for some and misery to others - all of this, must be taking a toll on him despite the fact that this was only the second day of the games. there was no other reason as to why he would be seeing a whole ass mouse snacking on pumpkin seeds at the tribute tower bar, as if it were one of snow's own employees.

he made his way around antonia, a bit standoffish as he sat down next to her. he wasn't scared of mice per se, lest it was a sinister experiment of some kind ready to tear his eyes out were he to find himself too comfortable around it - but rodents were not his favourite things, either.

"he?" he inquired, one eyebrow arching as he considered how if this thing was accompanying her to the bar as well as sharing a snack with her, it ought to be... a pet? gross. he squinted, studied the mouse from their shared distance, swirled the glass of whiskey in his hand before taking a sip - needing a small moment to process, perhaps. "is this a bit, or..?"

[reblrths]

here's the thing about the plinths: they tend to show up when you least expect them to. alo had grown used to when priam is around, but the others? he was wary of them, to say the least. despite growing up in the capitol, given everything he could ever want and then some, alo did not run in the same crowds that most of the other people his age did. in fact, he usually wasn't around any loud, rambunctious event unless it was absolutely required of him (or priam convinced him to go). and on the flip side, those that did run in those crowds usually left him alone except for a certain few. and when they did bother him, he was too clueless to realize they usually wanted to take the piss out of him.

so when finn approaches him now, smiling at him in greeting (he cannot for the life of him imagine what finn has to be smiling about right now), alo tries to offer a smile back. he thinks nothing of his appearance nor does he think anything of the comment, but he does think it makes sense that he looks tired. these games have him stressed. he looks down at his coffee, palm pressed to the side of his face. "yeah," he agrees, sighing melodramatically. "i haven't been sleeping well. this hunger games business is stressing me out."

[ricochct]

finnegan nodded thoughtfullly, as if the stress that the hunger games may bring with them was something he personally understood and was dealing with himself. only, it was not. perhaps because he wasn't as involved with all that thus far had went wrong as alo may consider himself to be. or perhaps, an even simpler explanation, because he was struggling to care enough about it to take the stressful atmosphere that had surrounded him leading up to the games to heart.

index finger and thumb tapped against the bottle in his hand in a strange rhythm before he pointed it at the man. "you know what?" the suggestion that followed could have been said in assumption that it would be turned down, or genuinely as a means for his own entertainment - a predator wanting to fling its prey around a bit before going in for the kill. even finn wasn't sure which. "letting loose might be what you need. do you think priam would let you out of the crate for one night? we could go out, after this."

[ricochct]

closed starter // finn & aloysius (@reblrths)

finnegan had, much like some lucky contestants, also survived day one of the games; and miraculously managed to land himself a couple of hours of sleep between leaving his station and losing track of time due to the ungodly activities he'd partaken in before landing face first onto the pillow. he knew this routine like the back of his hand - he'd all but perfected it the previous years - and it seemed his body did, too, as he'd woken up minutes before his alarm went off.

white shirt still looking pristine enough and an unopened bottle of water in one hand, the other grasping onto a half empty can of sugar free energy drink as if it were a lifeline - it didn't mix well with the lingering taste of toothpaste, but it was a necessary means of survival - he made his way back to work. though upon entering the lobby and steering towards the elevators, he took notice of a familiar face and decided that he could probably spare a minute or two. "aloysius," he greeted the man with a boyish grin. "you look tired." it wasn't necessarily true, but he wanted to make sure he got the chance to say it first.

[ricochct]

closed starter // finn & ash (@damagedflames)

finn had allowed himself a break after a few hours of making contestants' lives more difficult than they had to be, and currently found himself sprawled out on a couch in the lobby half heartedly following the games through a viewing screen while occasionally reaching for the half empty can of soda placed on the floor. he was bored. it had become a constant state of his, it seemed. though he refused to go back to work just yet, even if it would be more interesting than what he was currently doing. he told himself that he was making a statement.

he turned his head uncomfortably at the sound of footsteps approaching, and smiled upon seeing who it was. not out of the happiness you feel upon being reunited with a friend, but rather a smile with a more mischievous undertone. "hey, ash. how's your arm?"

[ricochct]

closed starter // finn & cass (@cfcannons)

finn was good at his job. truly, he was - what with his sadistic tendencies and need for constant entertainment, he was practically made for it. this, however, did not mean that he did not find it boring, at times. being seated in the same place for hours upon hours, waiting for the green light to inconvenience those in the arena and continuously being told to hold that thought - who wouldn't grow restless? he had his ways of fighting boredom, however, whenever it felt necessary.

thankful for whoever had decided that the chairs in the control rooms should be the kind to have wheels, he rolled a few stations over until he found a source of entertainment. he not-so-gracefully squeezed in between cass and whoever was unfortunate enough to be seated next to him, and without announcing his arrival- it wasn't necessary, obviously- he reached out to press a button at random. "what does this one do?"

[exitio-deactivated20241015]

where: the gamemakers stations

when: the first day of the games

who: lucius and finn | @ricochct

the hunger games has officially started and with it come the days of non-stop work. just like every other year, only a few hours in and lucius is restless. he taps at his desk, looking around for something to do. the bloodbath was exciting enough but now everyone is just running around looking for their relative and it's significantly less exciting. a glance over at cass tells him that the man is actually busy doing his job, must be nice. he leans back on his chair, turning to his equally chaotic brother with a sigh. "please tell me you know where there's a party tonight. if i have to stay in this seat for twenty four hours a day like last year i'm going to go rouge and start setting mutts on everyone in the arena just for something to do."

[ricochct]

finn would have agreed that this part was dreadfully boring. it was too early for proper chaos to ensue, everyone knew that it would have to come and go in waves and the first one was still settling. thankfully, he had a good enough source of entertainment in the seat next to him, both of their habits of impatience shining through clear as day as he spun his chair around to face his restless brother. "i do know, but i don't know if i'm bringing you," he replied nonchalantly, placing his foot on lucius' chair to roll him away from his station for no other reason than being an inconvenience. "i might want a plus one who's easier on the eyes."

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: LIVINIA CRANE & OPEN ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: TRIBUTE TOWER, LOBBY ᴡʜᴇɴ: DAY OF THE (PROPER) LAUNCH

Livinia could not hide the fact that she was on edge. She wasn't sure whether she had sat down for more than thirty consecutive seconds since the failed games launch yesterday. She certainly hadn't slept. She'd spent nearly forty-eight straight in the control room, trying to fix the mess that she now found herself in. This was shaping up to be perhaps one of the longest and most continuously awful weeks of her life, but, she had assured herself that she would feel better once the launch actually happened and the tributes were in the arena.

And she had, for a minute. After staying up all night working on fixing everything that had gone wrong and ensuring that safeguards were firmly in place to make certain it wouldn't happen again, the tributes were in the arena. She could see them on her screen, turning against one another and starting the bloodbath in typical, brutal, violent fashion. For a minute, as the countdown hit zero and the games began without any further hitches, Livinia felt relief wash over her.

It was quickly replaced by exhaustion, irritation, and the overwhelming feeling of impending doom that so often accompanied sleep deprivation. Only a couple of hours into the games, she is sent away by her supervisor to "try and get some rest" ( he'd said it with false sincerity – playing pretend at caring about Livinia's wellbeing, rather than reacting to the fact that she had just spent five minutes screaming at an apprentice for reading out some incorrect data to her ).

It was bullshit, because she didn't need rest any more than anybody else in that room, but Livinia had swallowed her pride and agreed to take her break when her supervisor's expression makes it clear that this was not a request. She's paying very little attention to where she's going as she heads back to her apartment in the tower, rubbing at her bleary eyes – and so, maybe it's her fault when she collides headfirst into an oncoming person. Maybe, but she sure as hell isn't going to take accountability for it. "Fuck," She curses – perhaps a little more aggressively than she would have, had she slept at all in the past week. "Watch where you're fucking going."

[ricochct]

finn would be lying if he said that he was genuinely bothered by the delay. being so would call for him caring about it to an extent that he did not. he was here simply to work, to do as he was told until it was time to leave, go out, be a general nuisance to whoever's company he'd decided on for that night before dragging them home with him, sleep, and then repeat. he didn't take the unfortunate delay to heart because he had no part in it - he'd done nothing wrong. he was merely a cog in a wheel into which someone had crammed a spoke, a stick, or a rock, whatever the analogy was. now it had been removed, and now he was doing his part again.

the countdown was over. the entire control room seemed to have held its breath meanwhile he'd busied himself with chatting with his brother and thus hadn't even had time to let himself be as overwhelmed by stress and anticipation as certain others had been.

it was an easy job. having barely even touched any controls, he'd been whisked away on a break. a takeaway cup of coffee in his hand, nicotine was calling his name, maybe a drink as well; amongst other things - his pace as he walked was quick enough that hopefully no one would allow themselves to stop him for the sake of small talk or to bother him with work related questions - which he avoided like the plague every second he spent outside of the control room. he wished he hadn't walked quite so fast, though, because small talk would have been much preferable over the way a collision had his nose hitting someone's skull and what was left of his coffee spilling over both the culprit and himself. and then she dared to say that it was his fault. his hand wiped at the spilled coffee on his shirt, as if that would fix anything, eyebrows knit together with irritation. "you- are you serious? that was very much so your fucking fault."

[ricochct]

pinterest // playlist

relying on your parents. family dinners in complete silence. flipping off the camera. freshly ironed clothes smelling of cigarettes. doing the opposite of what you're told. coffee with no milk but plenty of sugar. jumping fences. a messy floor and an organised bookshelf. smashing a mirror in your childhood home. empty cans of diet soda cluttering a desk. taking out your aggressions on others.

stats.

full name:  finnegan plinth nickname: finn age:  twenty seven zodiac sign:  gemini sun gender:  cis man pronouns:  he/him orientation:  unbothered occupation:  gamemaker district:  capitol family: sirius plinth (father), lucinda plinth (mother), lucius plinth (brother),

personality.

positive traits: charismatic, observant, creative negative traits: impulsive, addictive, cocky, spoiled moral alignment: chaotic evil mbti: estp-t (entrepreneur)

biography.

cw: some violence

it's a story that has been told plenty of times before. you're born into a family of wealth with plenty of expectations placed upon you before you even learn how to walk, and as it always goes, you're destined to fail.

you're a relatively healthy child. a little on the thinner side, but it's never a cause for concern. you're somewhat happy, as well. not much of a personality, but you're calm and easily cared for. it's not a surprise that this is who you become, for as soon as you learn to recognise patterns you also learn that any display of negative emotions leaves you on your own in a room that you're much too young to be sleeping in alone. crying never gets your mother's attention, it takes it away.

there is something unspoken that haunts your childhood home, noticeable only to those who reside in it but never those who come to visit - and that is good enough, because appearance is everything. you're raised to do well in school, be compliant, strive for greatness, and you do. until suddenly you don't. no teacher, friend or relative could pinpoint exactly what happened or when it did, but anyone who knew you both before and after noticed the gradual shift. it began as skipping a couple of classes and small outbursts of anger, but it doesn't take too long before it turns into staying out all night only to return home smelling of cigarettes and booze with bruised knuckles and a split lip.

somewhere along the line of harsh words with hidden pleading and physical restrainment you and your parents come to an agreement. as long as you do not actively taint the family name, finish school, and get out of their house, you will continue to be financially taken care of. it's a fair compromise, so what else can you do but oblige?

and it feels like you've been set free. you pack and leave as quickly as you can, you get your own apartment, new friends, a job. you're climbing social ranks and you're good at it. you attend high class parties, you jump from one bed to another, you land yourself a job first as an assistant, then a gamemaker. your lack of remorse and repressed anger makes you excellent at it. you're ruthless, but charismatic. you can blend into a crowd or be the center of attention. you're sipping champagne and making up stories about your past. you're learning that patience is a virtue. you're thriving.

at least that is what you tell yourself.

in short.

was raised to not show Feelings, somewhere it backfired ( shocking i know )

spoiled, hates his parents but expects them to take care of him

this lil rat has not done a day of self work in his entire life and i'm so so sorry about it

his thinking is uh very black and white, so either he will get along swimmingly with someone or he will hate them and there is not much wiggle room

party boy, rat boy, just a little guy

connections.

something like the story of us by taylor swift, i know u can't see it but i'm actually on my knees begging

while we're on the topic of taylor, also something i can see you / dress-coded

partner in crime. maybe they just get up to nonsense shenanigans, maybe they kill a guy. who's to say

unrequited love or the one that got away. he's used to getting what he wants so this would be torture and i want it