#flotsamodair

[herelifeisbeautiful]

@flotsamodair

CW: substance use and non-explicit depictions of sex work

When Effie Trinket managed to slip away from the Capitol party, she took the opportunity to fix the sleeves of her dress. It never got easier, she was certain of that now... it had been a little over twenty years and it never stopped... She rested her head on the cool marble of the balcony's railing, the morphling made it tolerable, but it often made her dizzy more than anything else... She'd never had a choice... maybe she once thought she had, but she knew better now. Capitol girls were perfectly groomed to be whatever the Capitol wanted out of them... and in her twenties, Effie had said 'yes'... believing that it was a duty for 'the greater good'... what a lie she'd been fed over and over until her body was a commodity to be kept "desirable" despite her age... She hardly notices someone nearby... maybe she does, it's hard to tell... because for once in the midst of the Capitol's lavish hedonism, Effie doesn't feel the desire to continue to perform. But when she finally looks up, her artificially blue eyes noticing the figure she can't fully make out, "Oh... hello darling..." her practiced tone was breaking at the end, shaky, and seemingly hard to keep up

[anniebythesea]

finnick odair (@flotsamodair) said ↬ “ mark my words now, this is not the end. ” 

it all felt like some terrible nightmare. one that she would normally wake-up from, breathless and hysterical. a few words from finnick would typically bring the victor back to reality. but this was no night terror. and she didn’t think there was anything finnick could say that would calm her nerves. for a few minutes, all annie did was stare at the television in utter horror. snow had just announced the quell — and that meant she would be going back into the arena. the place that had haunted her subconscious for the past five years. she could still hear the phantom echoes of the cannons; feel the splinters from the debris. how her body had ached from treading water for hours and hours.

technically, it could be her or mags going back in. they were the only two female victors left in four. but anwen knew she couldn’t live with herself if she let mags — sweet, selfless mags — go back into the arena at her age. she wouldn’t stand a chance against the other, younger victors. yet would annie do much better? she couldn’t afford to break down. to have a panic attack in the middle of the games. she would just get herself and her allies killed. and what if finnick got reaped too? oh tides. being in the arena with finnick. knowing only one of them could win.

anwen finally turned her gaze to him. her sea-green eyes already brimming with tears at the mere thought of going back into the arena. she felt like she couldn’t breathe. the victor couldn’t lose mags and finnick. she wouldn’t.  it took her a moment to realize that he was even talking to her. his next few words were enough to coax her back to the present. the certainty in finnick’s tone almost convincing. this wasn’t the end. this couldn’t be the end. still, it wasn’t enough to soothe her anxiety entirely. “ but what if it is the end? ” she asked, letting out a shaky exhale. “ i can’t go back, finnick. i can’t—i won’t—take another life. i won’t fight our friends. if i go back in there, i'm not coming out. ”

[visionhad]

“No, they don’t deserve any mercy. Not after they hurt you.”

THERE SEEMS TO BE A MISUNDERSTANDING. Whether it was about her character or it was about the situation at hand, especially because she hasn't been here long enough to do anything but think about all the people she lost. Either way, she was going to choose the right thing. She was going to choose for herself. "Finnick," Voice stern, hand extended to stop him from speaking any further. "I know what I'm doing." a beat. "And I know how it looks. They made their choice with their alliances. You think I don't know how it feels to be an outsider?" Large green eyes search his face, jaw tensing. "All I want to do is let the past be the past. I'm not in the games anymore, they're not in the games anymore, it's all just a popularity contest from this side. It's not worth rocking the boat when I just got here. Give me time."

[codeblued]

closed for @flotsamodair

The cool air against her cheeks was almost euphoric after so many hours of running from room to room, from patient to patient. Sure, Pittsburgh may not have the cleanest air in the continental US (especially not outside the loading bay of the Pitt), but Sylvie breathed it in as though it were fresh as farmland.

The sting of cigarette smoke in her nose caused it to scrunch, glancing around for the source before settling her gaze on Finnick a few feet away. A first-year, like her, which automatically granted him with kinship status in her books.

"They finally gave you a break, huh?" she called out, shoving her hands into the shallow pockets of her scrubs as she grinned over at him. "Didn't they tell you in med school that smoking is bad for you?"

[popularmxnster]

@flotsamodair said: "maybe i have a crush on you. so what?"

" Then maybe you should do something about it. Hm?" Billy teased playfully, beer in hand and a smirk on his lips. " You could have been laid by now if I knew you were into me." He winked, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a drink. " So you just flirt with other people to make me jealous? Huh. Makes sense now." It also made Billy feel so much better to know it was for his attention and not real. " You know I've said before I think you're hot." His eyes lowered slowly over the males body. " So where do you want to go from here?"

[fangsforhire]

@flotsamodair bared their pretty throat : ‘me? feel like a million bucks.’

‘A million bucks? Hm. Bit modest, no?’

By now, he had grown somewhat used to Finnick’s strange little turns of phrase, though that didn’t mean he understood half of them without doing some internal translation first. Feeling like currency seemed a bizarre way to describe oneself, but humans did enjoy assigning value to everything, even their own moods.( Admittedly, if anyone in the room could get away with comparing himself to a large amount of money, it would be him. Annoying, really. Some people had no respect for how distracting they were. ) He stepped a little closer, not enough to crowd him, just enough to inspect the claim with obvious interest. Finnick looked alive, at least. There was a brightness to him that didn’t feel entirely forced, and Lucien found himself watching for the catch out of habit, waiting for the usual crack beneath confidence. Alas, if there was one, Finnick was hiding it decently enough. Either that, or he truly did feel as good as he claimed, which was suspicious in its own right. Happiness always made Lucien wonder who had been left unsupervised with reality.

‘Still, I’ll allow it. You do look expensive, darling. Though I’d say the face alone adds another half a million.’

[qverdia]

@flotsamodair !                                         ❛ if anyone deserves to survive , it's you . ❜

❛ i don't want to . ❜ it wasn't like abilene to speak so honestly to anyone . . . but her proximity to near certain death made her tongue much more loose than it had ever been before . it hadn't been a surprise that she had been reaped as the only female victor in ten , and some part of her deep deep down had found peace with it . her death was long overdue , and she was ready to go home .

her fingers fidget in her costume . according to the capitol it seemed that the only thing of note about district ten was cattle . abilene preferred the company of sheep herself , but even with dose of creativity cinna had brought last year the best that hers could do was dressing her as some kind of half naked heifer . a cursory glance his way showed that his stylists had had a similar thought with a fishing net .

❛ i've been thinking about it a lot lately . . . i just want to go home . ❜ the home before the games , when her biggest concern was how she was going to get dust out of her clothes before mama saw , or how to convince her brothers to play one more round of hide and seek . ❛ i hope that you make it home , finnick . ❜ she meant it . she didn't know the finer details of the plan , just who to trust and who needed to survive the first few days . she hoped that when they all returned home it was to a new world , free of the games and of the capitol .

[fangsforhire]

@flotsamodair bared their pretty throat : ‘you’re a real pest, you know that?’

‘Who me?’

The insult amused him far more than it ought to have, though Finnick had delivered it with enough conviction that Lucien supposed he should have felt at least mildly chastised. Being called a pest by a pretty man with an attitude problem was hardly the blow to his ego Finnick might have hoped it would be. He leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with himself, as though the accusation had been a compliment wearing a poor disguise. ( Pest. Cute. He had been called monster, parasite, abomination, curse, and one memorable time, a walking diplomatic incident. Pest was practically affectionate. ) Finnick had that look about him, the one people wore when they were irritated but not quite enough to leave, which naturally made the whole thing far more fucking entertaining. If he wanted Lucien to behave, he was going about it dreadfully. Complaints only proved he was paying attention, and Lucien had always considered attention a dangerous thing to waste.

‘Noted, darl, and yet you’re still here, hm?’