Finnick Odair

District 4. Victor. [Dependent RP. Written by Sarah]

[seasaltsurvivor]

Idol doesn't mean your doll to f*ck with

FINNICK ODAIR. VICTOR. 62ND HUNGER GAMES.

BIO | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST | AFFILIATION

[mockingjay-sings]

THE HUNGER GAMES APPRECIATION WEEK → day 6: favorite district

District 4

[candlebrights-deactivated202502]

THE HUNGER GAMES APPRECIATION WEEK day 4: favorite character → Finnick Odair

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

{—Yann Martel, Life of Pi/Guillaume Apollinaire, from The Sirens/Olin Ivory, from the poem "Bad Year Anthem by Matthew Nienow, Poetry/ Khalil Gibran, Sand and Foam}

[connorwyndham]

FINNICK ODAIR, DISTRICT 4, WINNER OF THE SIXTY-FITH HUNGER GAMES

[...] but it was too late. He was already a good fighter with the spears and knives he had found in the Cornucopia. When he received a silver parachute with a trident—which may be the most expensive gift I've ever seen given in the arena—it was all over. District 4's industry is fishing. He'd been on boats his whole life. The trident was a natural, deadly extension of his arm. He wove a net out of some kind of vine he found, used it to entangle his opponents so he could spear them with the trident, and within a matter of days the crown was his.

[seasaltsurvivor]

"And suddenly, it's as if there's no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible. A pang of jealousy hits me. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love."

Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay

[fatefought]

someone comes to look at the blood pressure cuff going off on annie. they're quick to remark something about it being too tight. it makes the reading too high - or was it too low ? words had fallen on deaf ears as annie's mind was elsewhere. amara silverhorn had also tried to say something to annie, and the woman from four hadn't realized. it's all a lot, but at the same time not enough. she needs to see them, hold them. something. cadence kentwell even said that finn and caspian were safe. and she knew about their boy, so she had to be telling the truth. right ? maybe she didn't have truth at the moment, but she could desperately cling onto hope. it's something that came so easily to her in rose hued four ; her captivity in the cells ate away at it. but whether that longing was boundless or only fit in her palm, annie cresta has no choice but to cradle it at the moment.

the first time she hears her name, she's unconvinced. head turns towards the direction, she swears she hears it. if it's true, he's out of her line of vision. she always loved the way her name sounds when finn was the one saying it. she'd long accepted she'd likely never hear that or him again. but there it is again ... and again. " finnick, " she starts. it's not dignified. it's a yell. velcro of the freshly reapplied cuff stands no change against annie's hand. she's hopping off the hospital bed and darting the corridor that held the surviving captives. someone young is yelling for her to come back because they were still running tests. it will have to wait.

her tempo started a jog, but it becomes a dash once he is in her line of vision. " finnick, " she exclaims, the length of a hallway the only thing separating them now. she'd always been notably fast. she looks every bit a mad woman perhaps as she wears her hospital gown, eyes in such disbelief, and slippered feet charging at a poor man who looks like he has not slept in months. when she gets to him, will he remain or turn into dust ?

[seasaltsurvivor]

Echoes of voices barking orders and clattering medical instruments bounced off the offensively white walls of the medical bay, yet above it all, there’s her voice. Hers. 

There was something about the split second feeling of weightlessness that came from surrendering himself to the ocean on the warmest days of summer, allowing the waves to embrace him completely. There was a certain euphoria that came from beneath the tide. It never lasted long, just the few moments he could last holding himself under the surface, but it was enough for the salt and sea to choke the world and transport him elsewhere. Far from Four. Far from Panem. Far from every trouble, every threat, every heartache. The feeling came for him now, as if the sound of her voice had plunged him into the deepest depths of the Pacific. 

Never had there been a desperation as fierce as this. It wrapped itself around every last molecule that made up his being, swallowing Finnick whole. In that moment (and for the rest of time), he was nothing more than the need to hold her. Lungs failing, a breathless whisper fell from his lips, her name tasting sweeter than it ever had before. “Annie.”

It’s but just seconds later she’s running towards Finnick — the world’s most perfect angel, sent for him. Knees threatening to buckle in an astonishing twist of relief and devastation, it takes every ounce of strength he still has to keep himself upright. 

“It’s real. It’s real. Annie, you’re real.” The moment she reaches his outstretched arms, they’re wrapped tightly around her fragile frame. There would be nothing that would steal her away from him again, he promised it to himself and to her, vow coming as easily as the tears in his eyes. “I’m never letting them take you from me again.” His face buried in Annie’s brown hair, he wants to be drunk on her. “They’ll have to kill me before I ever let them get close to you again. God, Annie, you’re real.”

[vengefvlx]

Cadence knew that Finnick was speaking sense. She just didn't want to believe him. Cadie wanted to be useful to the rebellion. But she didn't know how that could even work when they didn't trust her. Cadence knew her usefulness lay in training and weaponry. But right now they weren't even trusting her with a fork, let alone anything that would cause more damage. Cadence understood why, even if it totally frustrated her. Cadie knew she could be helpful, but right now she couldn't even imagine them wanting her to be. Those thoughts led her to wonder why Johanna had even recruited her in the first place.

"Then why am I even here." She grumbled, knowing she was safe to grumble like that with Finnick. She trusted him enough to not tell on her. And anyway, he was in the hospital, he was in no position to be telling on her. "I want to believe Johanna recruited me for a reason.... but it just feels like for nothing." And maybe Johanna was also feeling that way. But she didn't want to complain to her, and make it look like she was ungrateful. After all, she could still be in the Capitol.

"i'm trying." She really was. She was usually quite a compliant. Years of abuse from Snow had ensured that. But that compliance had come due to threats to the people she loved. "I don't want to go back down there...." A look of fear had crossed her face as she said those words. It was obvious that getting locked up was a big fear of hers. "I just want to be useful..... that all the shit this has caused is worth something...." And right now, that felt like a million miles away. "I left people behind... and it feels like I did it for nothing right now."

[seasaltsurvivor]

Finnick didn’t have the answers that Cadie so desperately sought. Between the morphling and the lies, the only thing Finnick new for sure was that he was angry — so very angry. How could he be anything but? He’d made himself a slave to the rebellion at the whispered promise of his love’s safety only to be made a prop. Was Thirteen really all that different from the Capitol? Was this really be the freedom they’d assured him of? If anything, it seemed like a mistake. Snow was far from a good man, but at least his sadism was predictable. The rebel leaders, however, introduced him to a brand new kind of cruelty.

Finnick would not fault her for rethinking it all; he was been guilty spent his spare moments of lucidity asking the same questions. What had it all been for? Why am I even here? He wished he knew. As if an answer would make it easier. As if finding his purpose in the fight against their beloved President Snow would somehow absolve him of his crimes and untell all the lies. 

The bitter taste of pessimism was overwhelming. “Why did you do it?” They’d all had their reasons, he sure as hell had his despite how foolish it seemed now. “I don’t think it can all have meaning.” He frowned down at his hands, troubled brow furrowed. “Not any more.”

[seasaltsurvivor]

Closed Starter | @fatefought | The Capitol: Snow's Office | 74th Reaping Day

Finnick had learned how to handle most things. The exhaustion after a long day of putting on a show for the cameras, the sickness that settled over him each Games season, the quiet anxiety that stalked him from deep in the shadows back in Four — all of it paled in comparison to the overwhelming panic that gripped him in moments like these. 

He had to have known their routine. Nothing Snow did was a coincidence, so the only explanation was that he had found out about his eight o’clock phone calls with Annie. The President had to have been watching the clock, waiting for the exact moment to dial the number to Finnick’s place, letting his hopes rise and rejoicing when they came crashing down when the victor answered the call only to be met with a gruff request to meet. Finnick knew it wasn’t an invitation, not really.

Standing outside the heavy wooden doors that led to Snow’s office, he tried to slow his racing heart. The attempt proved to be futile. There was no relaxing when the man who had you on strings was ready to take the reigns once more.

The door creaked open at the hand of a decorated peacekeeper who wasted no time ushering him into the room. Finnick took his mark, coming to something of a parade rest in the middle of the office to hide his shaking hands. Eyes downcast, he knows better than to speak first, so no greeting comes from him — not that he felt confident that he’d find the words to do so. Instead, Finnick stands motionless and vulnerable before Snow, waiting for him to deliver his commands.

[seasaltsurvivor]

35, 45, 55

35. What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

Finnick is not a bad person, he never could be. That says, he’s still human and he’s made his fair share of mistakes or questionable decisions along the way. As a child, he had a neighbor who had a pet dog. It was a scraggly old thing that they kept tied up in their yard, day and night. Now, it wasn’t as if the neighbor was completely neglecting their dog (who he had secretly named Buddy — how original), but he thought the dog would be much happier if it weren’t tied up, so one day, 8-year-old Finnick snuck into his neighbor’s yard and let the dog loose. It wasn’t the right thing to do, but the dog certainly did seem to enjoy the 20 minutes of freedom it had before the owners got him back on the leash.

45. What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

The sound of people chewing. It drives him insane.

55. What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

Everyone thinks Finnick would love fishing. His father would take him out to the docks in the very early morning on the weekends as a child and they’d spend a few hours trying to catch something. He only enjoyed it because Calder would tell him stories about his own childhood, talk to him about the fish and the ocean, would pass on old folk tales from 4. He never enjoyed the fishing itself, it was just about spending time with his dad.

[seasaltsurvivor]

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

It’s not specific, but Finnick is a big fan of gallows humor and routinely makes himself laugh when using it with friends. It’s a small comfort in particularly dire situations, but the best part is seeing how those around him react to it. If they’re especially shocked, it’s all the better

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

I know I say it all the time, but Finnick and his father were very close, and a lot of his personality and mannerisms come from years of trying to emulate him. He gets a lot of his humor and over-all energy from him. That said, because his father worked such long hours, he spent a significant amount of time with his mother, Maristella. Over the years, he picked up on her nervous habit of picking at her cuticles when nervous and humming lightly when thinking about something.

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?

Finnick has had a lot of people on his prep team over the years, it would be impossible to remember all of them. For his first appearance after the Games, the make-up artist who had worked on him prior to entering the arena was busy, so a woman named Aria filled in. Aria was from a well-known family in the Capitol entertainment scene and had grown up in a family who loved the Games. It wasn’t until she was confronted with the blood speckled face of a 15-year-old Finnick, fresh out of the arena, looking distraught and confused, that she began t question her involvement in the Games. Aria remained a make-up artist, and while Finnick would never remember her or be able to pick her out from a crowd, she’d never forget his face as she watched him become the Capitol icon he was known to be.

[seasaltsurvivor]

What’s the lie your character says most often?

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

What’s the lie your character says most often?

As cliche and predictable as it is, probably “I’m/It’s fine.” He’s spent years hiding his true feelings out of fear of retaliation from Snow, going along with plans and campaigns he truly wanted no part in. It was much easier (emotionally and otherwise) to brush off the concern of friends or to agree with the ones pulling all the strings than it was to deny or refuse it. 

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

If Finnick calls someone a friend, it means something. He isn’t the type to use the word lightly. A friend is someone he knows is safe and is someone he knows he can rely on. While he likes many people, there are only a handful of people that he would genuinely consider to be a friend.

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

This question is truly dependent on where he is in the timeline. As a child, he had nothing to hide, but after he won his games Finnick kept most of his feelings close to his chest. Currently? It feels as though everyone knows what he is thinking at all times, so he tries to deflect more, which makes the feeling worse. 

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Finnick has two primary hobbies, one being writing/poetry (which was abused by the Capitol as his “talent”), and the other being basic gardening. Finnick never had a large garden, but he tried to keep a small pot of thyme alive for a while, only for it to die while on a trip to the Capitol. The demands of victor life made it so that he’d never be able to keep his plants alive. Now that he’s in 13, he knows there’s no chance of even trying. Perhaps he’ll get to start again after the war. 

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

Finnick is a generally good actor, but he cannot cry on demand.

[seasaltsurvivor]

7) Would young Finnick be happy to see themselves now?

Pre-Games Finnick would be horrified. He had always hoped for a quiet life just like his parents. A nice little house in town, married with a couple kids, wandering the markets on Saturday mornings, and passing the days with hard work on the docks and relaxing with the sunsets. There are certain aspects he’d be content with, but as a whole, he never would have imagined himself becoming who he is now, nor would he have wanted it to be this way. Post-Games Finnick would be happy to see that he’d managed to overcome everything that had been thrown at him and that he’d found the courage to fight.

[seasaltsurvivor]

Buttercup: Where do Finnick's loyalties lie when it come to the rebellion? Do they worry about their future?

I think it’s only natural for him to worry about what the future holds. After experiencing so much instability, uncertainty is bound to cause some degree of anxiety. Regardless, Finnick remains loyal to the rebellion and is willing to fight for the cause.

[seasaltsurvivor]

Finnick: [Character Building] Where does he go when he finds himself angry? Sad? Happy?

Finnick has developed a habit of internalizing most negative emotions, so when experiencing things such as anger and sadness, historically, he has worked through it alone. Usually, this means self-isolating. In recent years (especially now), however, he’s become more open to the idea of opening up to people he knows he can trust. It started with Mags and Annie, and the circle has slowly expanded to include people such as Katniss and Cecelia. When feeling overwhelmed in Thirteen, he’ll usually retreat into one of the many supply closets he’s commandeered until he’s ready to talk about it.

When it comes to more positive emotions, though, such as happiness and joy, he’s happy to share it with those around him and is ready to make jokes or little comments to get others laughing with him. He’s not afraid of crowds, but he does prefer to engage with smaller groups.

[seasaltsurvivor]

Finnick: [Coin] I must assume you feel slighted in a way. Your apprehension to cooperate when first coming to Thirteen is signal enough for that. You're important to the cause though, so that can easily be overlooked. I've been made aware your interest in the captive rescue objective. I suppose my curiosity remains peaked given that your health is hardly even by its peak. Are you hoping to go on the mission?

Finnick had never been one quick to anger, but Coin’s tendency to downplay the situation was growing old. It felt as if she were taunting him, throwing his downward spiral (the one triggered by the gross incompetence and hypocrisy of her and her team) back at him. It was enough to be branded as another emotionally unstable, potentially volatile misfit, but the condescension and the woman’s unwillingness to acknowledge her own role in it. 

Yes, he was feeling slighted, and yes, he was apprehensive to cooperate, but what else was there to feel when they’d broken and disregarded the only condition of his allegiance? And for her to then have the audacity to question his health and ability, as if she weren’t the one to send him to ruin? Well…Coin should be grateful that he had received such comprehensive training in the Capitol.

Finnick fought himself to keep from glaring at her, instead choosing to adopt a passive tone, body language resigned. He refused to give her a win. “If you’re asking if I’m willing to go in and clean up the mess you made, I’d consider it.”

[seasaltsurvivor]

Finnick: [Coin] Mister Odair, thank you for meeting with me. I've been told you've been doing wonderfully with your propos. The rebellion thanks you. I wanted to touch base however. How are you? My personal apologies are in order in how Miss Cresta is still within The Capitol.

Everything about the room was uncomfortable. The fluorescent lights burned his eyes. The cold metal chair was hell on his sore, bruised body. The hum from the monitors surrounding them chipped away at whatever shred of sanity he had managed to hold on to. And then there was Coin, sharp tone, piercing eyes, and all, staring him down from across the table. It was safe to say that Finnick’s trips to Command were far from what he would consider to be enjoyable, but while he could weasel his way out of most of his schedule, skipping out on meetings with the President of District 13 was not an option.

Coin’s mention of Miss Cresta left Finnick struggling to maintain his composure. It had been her choice to break the pact between him and the rebellion, and it had been her fault that Annie was left behind. “I’m fine.” He’d never admit to the contrary, not with his healthy skepticism of authority. “The propos are fine.” Being shoved in front of the camera had never been his favorite activity, and he wasn’t feeling particularly inclined to participate (not when they still owed him so much), but it was slightly more bearable than withering away in the medical wing. “Everything is fine, Miss President.”