secrets, sugarcubes, sea.

''How do people pay for the pleasure of your company?'' ''Secrets."

[theboyonfxre-blog]

>> @valuablesecrets liked for a starter 

  This didn’t make sense. Staring down at the tattoo on his arm, he didn’t have an activity scheduled for the day except for 18:00 — Reflection. Reflection was explained to him as a half hour of downtime from District 13′s strict schedule for it’s citizens. But when he had just arrived yesterday and today he was given no tasks to do, what was he supposed to do? It didn’t make sense.

   All day, Kieran was left to roam the halls of the underground District 13. It felt overwhelming when he met with Haymitch, Plutarch Heavensbee, and Alma Coin, President of the rebel district. Following Thirteen’s schedule, Kieran thought Coin would automatically put him to work but the only activities he had all day were meals: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Kieran didn’t understand it, but he decided to go along with it. He still had many questions that he wanted answers to, and Plutarch and Coin reassured him his questions would be answered. In the meantime, Kieran needed to familiarize himself with District 13.

    As far as he knew, Beetee, Finnick, and himself were the only victors rescued from the arena. He hadn’t known the true fate of Peeta and Johanna, other than they were captured by the Captiol. They could be dead by now. District 13 couldn’t compare to what Snow was doing, or done, to the two but Kieran knew the citizens were in wartime here. Everyone had a job. Nuclear weaponry was built here. Everyone wore a shade of grey because no one was allowed to “stand out”. Food was rationed. Time was restricted. Watching the district from the outside in, refugees from other districts probably thought this was no way to live. He could almost agree, but he’d been surviving all of his life. At least Thirteen figured out how to do it out of the Capitol’s control. They were surviving. Kieran had to admit: they figured out a smart way to do it.

    Catching a glimpse of Reflection still painted on his arm, Kieran finally decided to find Finnick rather than his family. He assumed Finnick was still in one of the hospital rooms, but he couldn’t be sure. If he was poked and prodded at like Kieran, he probably didn’t want to be. He guessed the three of the rescued victors had to continue to be looked at by doctors. Even as Kieran roamed, he was to report back to his hospital bed. As his eyes searched the rooms, he stopped when he saw Finnick. He slowly entered his room. He didn’t know if he should be happy that they’re both still alive or fearful that the 75th wasn’t the end for them yet…

     "Finnick?”

[valuablesecrets-blog]

         For today, the little piece of knot that he secretly took with him into the arena, was a life saver. He forgot that he had taken it with him when he found himself on the hovercraft. Instead of staying where he was, he went to look for Haymitch and Plutarch immediately. By then, he had already figured out what would have happened to Annie. Annie was in the hands of the Capitol and there was nothing that he could do about it. Not even turn himself in, because it wasn’t like they would let her go then. This situation was worse than being locked up in an arena that tried to self-destruct a part of itself every hour.        Annie, Mags and Johanna gone in three days. That was how long it took the Capitol to take the love of his life, his second mother and his best friend away from him. Put like that, Finnick was kind of surprised that the Capitol hadn’t done it long before the Games. Maybe Snow had been looking for an excuse to do it. Maybe he realized that Finnick was of too much value to the Capitol to go against. Most desirable. The victor with the most influence. That was why he knew, at the evening of the Quarter Quell announcement, that he would be reaped. There was no question. He would be reaped and someone would kill him. Kieran should have, perhaps. But in that case their rebellion would have died out. After all, killing the most loved victor doesn’t exactly help a rebellion. 

     He much preferred to run and hide by now, but he had never done that before. Not really. He was the face of up things type of person unfortunately. He had been that during two Games and during everything in between, no matter how hard his instinct told him to run. The doctors were watching his every last move. There was definitely something wrong with him, something they hadn’t told him yet. He didn’t need to be told. He knew exactly what they were waiting for him to do.      The sound of Kieran’s voice startled him. He had been staring down at his hands again, at the piece of rope in his hands and the way that he knotted it without having to think about it. He couldn’t allow himself to think about anything, but that proved to be very hand. He slowly turned to face Kieran. His eyes studied the other for a couple of seconds.         “At least one of us is allowed out of bed.” No matter how hard to tried to sound sarcastic, his voice sounded hoarse. He figured he would look like he hadn’t slept the past twenty-four hours, which was exactly the case. “Kieran. How are you holding up?” The last thing that he remembered of the other was Kieran accusing Haymitch of being a liar and Plutarch injecting him something strong with a syringe, back in the hovercraft.

[valuablesecrets-blog]

Under the cut is Finnick’s bio for the group verse. 

Finnick’s great grandfather was a very succesful banker. His grandfather married rich and into the Upper East Side society. By the time that Finnick was born, their family’s savings had doubled due to investments. Much like his great grandfather, Finnick’s father knew how to make more money out of money. Finnick’s mother considers being mrs. Odair as a fulltime job. Finnick has a little sister, Rhea, that was born two years after him.   

There was no question since the moment Finnick attended preschool, that he would later attend St. Jude’s School for Boys just like his father did and would study Economy at a prestigious university that his parents would choose for him. He tries to act as the perfect son of his parents and as a rolemodel for his sister Rhea, but he starts to hate that part of himself more and more. In his eyes, his senior year is the last one in which he gets to do whatever he wants to before his real life begins. Even before he was born his parents have already decided who he’s going to be and where and how he’s going to be that. This is the life that he dreads so much because he barely has any say in the matter. He plans to go against all rules that his parents set for him without them finding out, because it’s his last chance. If they catch him doing that, there will be hell to pay and he knows it. Therefore, it’s probably better that they don’t find out about Finnick’s rebellious phase. He wants other things for his future than his parents do, that much is certain. He doesn’t want to study economy and he doesn’t want to go to an Ivy League School. He has much more interesting in going to a good Med school, preferably John’s Hopkins, and spending years learning and practising medicine. This, of course, is not something that his parents know, because that’s not the future they have planned for their heir. Finnick is a very stereotypical popular guy. He excels at school and in sports. He’s considered to be handsome: he’s tall, athletic and muscular, with a bit of a tanned skin, bronze coloured hair and stunning sea-green eyes. But he’s arrogant, extremely flirtatious, and brings a somewhat mysterious facade. The only people that he’s really himself with are his sister and his best friend Wyatt. 

[assortcdacoustics-archive-deact]

          It wasn’t often that Addison Forbes Montgomery           felt this sort of … panic.   In fact, she prided herself           on being calm     &      collected even in the face of           absolute disaster    —-    as even that was trite and           commonplace nowadays.

          Still,        it wasn’t often that she was called this far           away from home for a hopeless case.    She would           be expected to work miracles on the dead because           she was     Addison Forbes Montgomery,     board-           certified   OB/GYN  with  fellowships  in  maternal-           fetal medicine and medical genetics  —-  and as if           to add insult to injury, she was still considered one           of  the  foremost  neonatal  surgeons in the country.

          They were hard shoes to fill,      but MassGen had           thought that all of those credentials made her fit to           bring a  D.O.A.  mother-and-fetus back to life after           suffering such traumatic injuries.

          She had failed      —-    & so she sat with her back           pressed to the wall of the emergency suite, scrubs           still  bloodied  even  though  her  hands  had  been           washed clean. What was meant to be a steadying           breath  caused her aching chest to expand before           it was released back into the world.

          ( I’m sorry. )

                  “ If you’re looking at me like that for a REASON,                     I promise you,      there was nothing more that I                     could have done.    They were both gone before                     they even got here. “

[valuablesecrets-blog]

       Finnick was a trauma surgeon - he was trained to see          hope and possibility where others might believe there          was NONE. But in this case,    hope had been hard to           find.         Maybe that was why they called in Addison           Forbes Montgomery ( the one and only ) to help out          with this particular case.           Either way, good intentions didn’t help any surgeon          at the end of either a long day or    an even longer           surgery. Usually, a  long  surgery  meant   that the           patient LIVED, but even   that   logic could not be          applied to this situation. The patient had been dead          when she got here - didn’t stand a chance, he knew          that - and was still dead when she   got out of here.                             He was left unsure why, but the reality of                           his job hit him exceptionally hard today.              When he walked  through t he doors of O.R. Two,            he spotted his fellow surgeon sitting there like           she just k i l l e d their patient instead of  did a           last effort to SAVE her. Quite the difference, but           it felt like the same thing at times. Perhaps that           was especially the case in trauma surgery. He           hadn’t been a fellow at  MassGen  long, only a            couple of months now, and this was one of the           first patient he lost in surgery during that time.             ‘ I’m  not looking for a reason.  In fact, I just             thought the  s a me  thing.     Sometimes we             work a  miracle.  That simply wasn’t today. ’                    He  paused for a couple of seconds. ‘ It’s             a pity. Sometimes this work is too hard. ’           

[plentycffire-deactivated2021010]

     Katniss never expected for Finnick to spill what he had said. Yes, Johanna killed Cashmere, Katniss had seen it herself. But she was unaware that Cashmere was a very good friend of Finnick’s. Were they able to understand each other? Was Cashmere put in the same position as him? It was possible; she was a beautiful woman. When their eyes met and he had admitted what Haymitch had said to him, a lump formed in her throat that seemed impossible to swallow. For the time being, she nodded until she was able to speak again.

     "I almost did,“ she admitted, "I was so lost in there, so confused, so overwhelmed. I thought it was the only way until you reminded me.”

     Remember who the real enemy is.

      It wasn’t like Katniss was not lost and confused and overwhelmed in Thirteen, because that couldn’t be more true. There was so much pressure placed on everything, so much expected from her, and goals she knew she couldn’t meet alone. All she thought about was Peeta and the others, hoping they were alive, hoping they were safe. If they had died in there, Katniss would never be able to forgive herself. It was her fault they were in there, and it would be her fault if they died. But no, she wouldn’t let that happen. She would never let them die. Speaking about what had occurred was more difficult for Katniss than it was for Finnick, and in this moment, it was clear.

      Thankfully, that conversation quickly subsided, placed with a happy distraction. That’s exactly what they needed right now: a distraction.

      “I would say blue, but I’m awful at guessing things about other people,” she shrugged, “mine is green.” Even something as simple as sharing that made her think of Peeta. His was orange, but soft orange, like the sunset. No. This was a time to be distracted, to be casual. But all she could do was think about him. To make matters worse, Finnick brought up his stylist. It was true, most of the time, he wore close to nothing, but she understood why. But her mind could only wander to a certain person.

      “I was lucky to have someone like Cinna.” Cinna, another one she had lost, another death that she believed to be her fault. Well, at least she believed he was dead. If he wasn’t, he would be here in Thirteen, but he was nowhere to be seen.

[valuablesecrets-blog]

        Of course he had known that Cashmere’s death was, like so many things, inevitable. He had never been a Career tribute. There was no way Gloss would accept him into their alliance. And even if, there was no way they would accept Johanna and Finnick refused to be in any alliance without Jo. All it meant that at least Jo and him would have to go against the four of them: Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus and Enobaria. The idea sounded insane, so it was a good thing that they had Katniss and Peeta on their side. Four fighters against four fighters, basically.         He hadn’t come to terms fully with Cashmere’s death. Out of all the deaths during the Quell, Mags was the worst by far. All his grief was directed towards her. And of course he also was in constant fear because of Annie and Johanna. As if killing all his family members before he turned sixteen wasn’t bad enough, the Capitol and president Snow had to take his second family away from him too. His second mother, someone that was like a sister to him and the love of his life. No, he didn’t have any space to deal with Cashmere’s death.                “I figured,” Finnick replied as he looked up to her. “It’s okay if you did, though. I mean, not for the rebellion, everybody would have hated you, but for me.” He shrugged his shoulders.                    In a way, this felt like just another sleepless night, but just better spend than usually. Normally he’d tie knots until his hands bled, go over the Quarter Quell again and again, think of Annie, Johanna and Mags and sneak out of the hospital eventually because he was looking for a chance of scenery. The doctors were still convinced he wouldn’t be able to deal with the day to day schedue that was required when someone wanted to live in Thirteen and participate in their community. They were probably right.                   “You’re not awful at it, you’re right,” Finnick said. “It’s blue. Sea blue, actually.” He really missed the sea. He figured her favouring the colour green must have something to do with district Twelve. He didn’t know much of Twelve; he knew Haymitch and he knew their specialty was mining. He had been there a couple of times and saw how bad the district looked.                   He nodded on her words. “Everyone was jealous of you,” he told her with a little grin. “Cinna and Portia were the best. Even if fire isn’t exactly my element. I prefer water, but you probably figured that out already.” 

[lois-lane]

I don’t know how long we might have sat here if it weren’t for the arrival of the silver parachute, which glides down through the foliage to land before us. No one reaches for it. “Whose is it, do you think?” I say finally. “No telling,” says Finnick. “Why don’t we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?”

[aqua-decoris-blog]

The annoyance on her face was getting more and more prominent by the second. He was really getting on her nerves, but of course, there was only so much she could do about it. He did save her life, expecting nothing in return. While she did quite literally owe him her life, she didn’t think that justified him acting like an ass. Then again, he did spend quite a bit of time in the Capitol. It explained the way he acted, but not why. He simply picked up on habits, attitudes and then made it his own. There weren’t many tributes for Four, but then again, the most recent ones were because of him. His words did have some weight, at least in the Capitol.

Regardless of the justifications and explanations of why he was the way he was, he was extremely difficult to stand. She wanted nothing more than to be back in her room, alone, without him in her house. She just didn’t understand why he came to her house when he was just going to be cold. As her mentor, he should’ve been a little warmer, easier to deal with. Him being her mentor allowed for there to be better communication, better understanding, but instead, all there was, was bitterness. If she wanted bitter, she could’ve been talking to any of the previous victors. They were all bitter, more if possible. She didn’t need Finnick to be bitter with her, in her own house. 

Finnick was an unreadable person, he had his walls up so high, it was almost impressive. She thought hiding away would take away any chance and recovery from the Games, but Finnick hid himself well. Or maybe, he wasn’t hiding himself. Maybe this is who he was— arrogant, dismissive and cocky. It could just be that when he won, he was impressionable and caught on to things from the Capitol. He could have just taken different characteristics from other people to make them his own. She would never know the answer, though.

She rolled her eyes at his repetition of her previous words, sighing as she leaned against the wall, just watching his movements. “You may have saved me, but that doesn’t mean you get to take all the credit for it.” She said, sighing deeply. She needed to calm herself down before she tired herself out. “What did you want me to say? Thank you?” She asks, shaking her head as she looked down to her feet, her hair falling to cover her face, almost like a curtain. 

“Look, I know you aren’t great with people, but it wouldn’t kill you to be a bit more understanding, you know?” She asked, trying to simmer the conversation down. “If you had come here on your own will to see how I was doing, maybe this would be different. If you truly cared, you would’ve been here as a friend, not my mentor. We’re equals now. You’re no better than me.” There. Someone had to say it to him. She was glad she did. 

[valuablesecrets-blog]

Apparently the ongoing trend of him pissing everyone off besides Mags was still working. What did she want him to do? Be open and caring? Gods, that was more scary than being in an arena with twenty-three other tributes trying to kill you during nighttime. He’d take killing another tribute over opening up to people any day. People should suck it up and let him do what he was good it. It was obvious by now that being around people was not one of those things.  And again, this was something Mags said too. Alicia liked him, and Ron, and he had to work hard to achieve that too. It was obvious that Annie wanted to like him. He was the problem. He knew that. He couldn’t speak two sentences without falling back into sarcasm. He couldn’t drop the arrogant facade. It was too hard to do all at once, especially since it was only a  month since the Games. A month since the boy tribute was beheaded by the Career pack and Cashmere had to stop him from literally going for Gloss’ throat with the intend to do the same thing to him. A month since that dam broke and  him staring at the television praying to whatever God he didn’t believe in that Annie would make it because she would have to be the best swimmer. How was that for compassion? And where was that guy now? “I’m sorry.” It was spoken with a matter-of-fact undertone, but he said it anyway.  An actual apology, directed to her. “You might not understand it now, but I have gone to great lengths to save you. And so have you. We saved you from dying. You fought in that arena. You swum. And I did other things.” Finnick slept with the most important female Gamemaker just to make sure they wouldn’t kill Annie in some gruesome way after she ran and hid from the Career pack when her district partner was beheaded. He couldn’t tell her how many man and woman he had to satisfy for her to stand here today. That was not something that anyone should have to take in. He chuckled, literally chuckled, when she mentioned the word equals. “We’re not equals. I won my Games at fourteen, have been a Capitol favourite since.” He had that title, youngest ever, and most other victors believed that was what made him so insufferable. He paused for a couple of seconds and studied her. “In fact, I’d say you’re better than me. You’re good. You’re a kind and caring person.” He went to great lengths to get whatever he wanted. At fourteen, he killed six tributes. At sixteen, he first slept around just to make sure he would be able to save tributes and keep Mags close to him.  “Annie, honestly, this is me trying. If I truly didn’t give a damn, I would have sent Mags. I could have let you die but I didn’t. So don’t accuse of not caring when the real problem is that I don’t know well how to show it and you don’t see yet how I do.” She would find out eventually. He knew that. But he liked to keep his dirty little secret a bit longer. Hopefully until after the Tour, when Snow got to see what Annie was really made of and what he wanted to do with her. 

[efflooor-blog]

|| Finnick

[efflooor-blog]

           “I didn’t pack anything for cold weather.” Annie admits, giving a small, slightly embarrassed smile. They were from Four, after all. There wasn’t exactly a reason for her to own anything wintery in her day to day life. The coldest days in Four usually didn’t require any more than actual pants or jeans, for which she had one pair, kept in her suitcase. She’d change before she got there. “But I’ll see what I can do.” The tone isn’t anything sassy, just informative.             The snow does sound nice though, she has to admit, even if she isn’t a fan of cold weather. Even getting used to the much improved air conditioning in her Victor’s Village house has been difficult as she swings back from hot to cold            Annie nods at the rest of his words, clearly listening, even if the backtracks of her mind were pushing forwards, aching to be listened to, and then spoken aloud. She wants to know exactly what she has to say. Of course, Annie’s seen the televised Victory Tours, and she’d even seen Finnick’s, but it all seemed much more difficult when she was on this side of things.            “Does someone else write the speeches?” She asks, her voice airing on the side of nervous for the moment. “Because I didn’t know the tributes from twelve. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to find myself not being able to say anything.”

[valuablesecrets-blog]

       His eyebrows frowned for a couple of seconds when she mentioned she didn’t pack anything. Why would she have to pack any clothes? He figured she would have brought books and stuff with her to entertain herself with during the train rides from district to district.  “We don’t have the district Four stylists with us for company, Annie,” he replied on a light tone. “They’ll something ready for you for every district.”           To lighten the mood, he added: “And apparently I don’t know the first thing about clothes and fashion, so they did me the courtesy of designing a few pieces for me as well.” It didn’t only lighten the mood, it was also true. The stylists hated it whenever he showed up wearing something that looked like he just got out of bed and the clothes he was wearing looked like they were the first ones he came across in his house. He preferred sweaters and simple T-shirts over anything, much to the stylist’s annoyance.               In all honesty, Finnick hadn’t known much of the tributes in his year. He knew the Career pack, the ones that he sided with at first, and some other tributes that were supposed to have high odds, but that was it. Both of Twelve’s tributes in his year died during the bloodbath. The escort had written speeches for each district, but Finnick had been stubborn about it. He just showed up in front of a crowd after doing some research on the district and their tributes and just spoke. Told them what was real for him. Of course the Capitol loved it.                “The speeches have already been written, don’t worry about it,” he replied with a light smile. “The escort wrote them and Mags is going over them right now. I’ll go over the first one with you tomorrow morning, a couple of hours before the ceremony. In that case you’ll know it by the time you have to.”

[seventhaxe-deactivated20200425]

        The moment she felt the glass get heavier in her hand, she brought it up to her lips, downing her drink in a matter of seconds. Johanna didn’t want to be reminded of how much of a fuck-up she was, she knew that already. But she didn’t expect to hear those words coming from Finnick’s mouth. She was dumb enough to play into his game. She thought he was the darling of the Capitol because he wanted to be. That arrogance that radiated off of him was so obvious, like he knew he was handsome, he knew people wanted him, and maybe he wanted them too. Johanna couldn’t have been more wrong. He didn’t have a say, he was being used and sold just like she was. For once, Johanna didn’t feel alone. Someone understood.

        She took a hold of the bottle and poured herself another drink, continuing to listen to him silently. He was right, of course he was right. The other Victors weren’t doing what they did just for the hell of it. There was always a reason behind it and it seemed like Johanna was following in all of their footsteps. 

       She wished she was drunk. She wanted to be so incredibly drunk that she would forget this night ever happened and would go on hating Finnick instead of sitting with him on the couch and letting him pour his heart out to her like they were old friends. Johanna wanted him to hate her. Ever since they had met, she had done nothing but jab at him. Half because she was stupid enough to buy into his act and thought he was an arrogant, absorbed, son of a bitch, and the other because of the promise she had made to herself. After losing her family, she had made a promise to never let anyone in or be stupid enough to fall in love. She had lost everything dear to her, and she didn’t know how she would take it if she lost another.

        Why was he being kind to her all of a sudden? Sure, Victors could stick together, but from a distance. They didn’t need to sit together spewing out their feelings. After all of her attempts to make him go away, here he was, treating her like nothing had ever happened. After a few moments of silence, she spoke up, her voice softer than anyone around here had ever heard before.

       "Why are you being nice to me?“ She didn’t deserve it. At least that’s what she thought.

[valuablesecrets-blog]

    So the truth was out. The more people knew, the less he started caring - at least, that was what he told himself. He hated the way that other victors looked at him as soon as they figured it out. Most of them didn’t need to be told, since it was all too obvious because of the way Finnick played the game. Him and his lovers in the Capitol. Three or four per time that he spent at the Capitol during the Games, in reality many more. For Johanna it might just be the Games. He hoped that it was. It meant that she had another eleven months to recover and prepare.                  He gave her the bottle and took another sip of his own drink. It was obvious that she needed some time to let it sink in, so he gave her that time. In the meantime, his mind went back to when he had to tell Mags. Mags had known that his parents and sister were murdered, but didn’t know why. When he didn’t show up one night during the preparation of the 67th Hunger Games, she comfronted him in the morning after he slept everything off. She hadn’t been angry or frustrated with him. She had been sad, but she understood. Finnick wondered how Blight felt about Johanna having to do it now. He probably was angry and frustrated. Understandably so.                When Johanna spoke, her voice soft and fragile, he let his thoughts about the past go. He couldn’t change that. What he could do, was try and be somewhat of a normal compassionate human being for someone that didn’t want to admit that she might need that. He had pushed people away for years too, with the exception of Mags. He didn’t expect Johanna to take this any better.

    “Because I get it.” As simple as that. “The Games are never over. You still need allies. I know you’re not big on those. Neither am I.” They both won their Games by going towards the ending alone, killing whoever was in their way with their weapon of choice. Johanna’s main strategy was to be considered weak. He was seen as weak because of his age. The two of them probably had more in common than they wanted to admit it.  

[aqua-decoris-blog]

Never would she be able to understand why Finnick Odair was so distant. He couldn’t be blamed, for she was distancing herself from lots of people too. He seemed happy, though. That’s what his mystery was, at least to her. She couldn’t understand, but she needed to know. She hated that she didn’t have an answer to it. She wasn’t this obsessed with getting an answer before, but with the amount of time she had to think, she figured she could come up with something.

She simply followed him, trailing a few steps behind him. She was confused as to why he felt so free in her house. Maybe it was because of the leniency he received in the Capitol, or maybe it was simply because he thought he was better than the rest of them. She could tell that he noticed it was empty. Of course it was empty, she wasn’t ready to move on yet. She was still stuck in her old life, a life she didn’t have anymore. She didn’t want to move on. Not yet, at least. Not while she was grieving. She would eventually have to, considering this was her new home. She wasn’t sure when, but soon. She stopped a few steps behind him and nodded at him She wasn’t sure of what exactly to say to that— Mags — because it was weird. She didn’t know her.

Finnick’s attempt at showing he cared wasn’t  very potent. When she spoke about her well-doing, she decided on giving an honest answer. “But I’m not fine.” She admitted, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I don’t lie, either.” She was almost offended. Annie had never lied in her life. She wouldn’t start now to her mentor, regardless of what her situation was.

She crossed her arms and looked to the floor, as if she was thinking, before looking up at him. “You are, though. You’re fine and that’s not fair.” She pointed out. Her tone was steady, but it was clear that she was getting upset. “You let him die. You didn’t even try to save him. I cared about him and he died in front of me, so no, I’m not fine. I haven’t slept and it’s too loud, but you probably wouldn’t have checked up on me if it weren’t for Mags. You wouldn’t have come here unless someone told you to.” She accused. She was good at reading people, and everyone know that Finnick Odair didn’t just check up on people.  

[valuablesecrets-blog]

The last time he saved a tribute from an unfortunate and inevitable dead he had been sixteen and that tribute had been seventeen. Ron Stafford, now victor of district Four, had gotten on his nerves every time he opened his mouth. He had been a very cliche Career tribute, one that volunteered for the Games, and the exact opposite of what Finnick had intended to help when he had to start mentoring. But they got along eventually. It was three years since, and Ron and Finnick were good friends now. According to Mags they had taken time to warm up to each other. According to Mags he was not an easy person to deal with.  Well, fine. Maybe he wasn’t. But why was it that the next tribute that he managed to save was starting to get on his nerves as well? Bad luck? That would be great irony. Here in Four, people spoke to and about him like they knew him. He loved his district, he cared for the people that lived in it and tried to help out as much as he could in his own way, but he had become something that they didn’t recognize. And that was okay. As long as it was just distant, it was fine, But it wasn’t, because Annie Cresta was standing in front of him apparently trying to read him. Which was both hilarious and plainly stupid in his eyes, but he appreciated the effort. “No one that wins the Games is fine. Period. I’m glad you’re not a liar,” he replied, a quick nod into her direction before his eyes started to study her backyard and the beach beyond them. He wasn’t good at talking about feelings. Lying about them, on the other hand, was something he was great at. “I didn’t invent the Games, Cresta. All I get to do is save one of you. You wanted that to be him? I can’t help that, now can I?” He rolled his eyes and then looked back to Annie. “And who do you think that you are assuming things about me? That’s rude.” Was he copying her words from before to annoy her? Well, yes. But he knew he was right, so it didn’t really count. She might want to try to read him, but she wouldn’t be able to see it. His facade had been perfected long before she met him.  She was right about one thing, though. He was here because Mags told him to. His face expression soon turned back into the same sarcastic expression that she knew from when she told him that he was rude. “Mags and I discussed it because I wasn’t sure exactly when to approach you. I wanted to give you some space first, but I didn’t know how much space you needed. Mags is better at dealing with people, so I asked her opinion. How scandalous of me, right?” And again, heavy sarcasm. 

[plentycffire-deactivated2021010]

                        Some walks you have to take alone.

[theboyfromfour-blog]

▴let the [m o n s t e r] rise

[theboyfromfour-blog]

“What? Does it bother you I call you by your last name? It made things easier for me, you know? I didn’t want to think you’d come to give me the magic answers I needed. I wanted to get used to the idea I’d be by myself out there.” He commented as started curling and uncurling his fingers.  The drugs made difficult for him to move them. He was not going to leave like that. He knew the faster he attempted to use his hand, the faster his recovery would be.

“I did something desperate. I knew the consequences of my acts would not be pleasant in the short and long term…” He commented seriously.  He never been in other district before. Yet, he knew how the things rolled every time there was the so-called ‘victory tour’. They were forced to show respect to a murderer. He saw it every time what it was left of a victor came to the district.  He noticed it every time a former victor was interviewed. Most of them were a living mess.

“But I would do it all over again if that means to make his dead painless. It’s the least I can do for him. Wouldn’t you go to the depths of hell to have done things differently?” He made a pause. “I don’t know what your reasons to do what you do are.  You don’t have to tell me so. It’s not my business. But don’t ask me to give up on my father” He said as he walked through the windows.

“I am willing to trust. You know that comes with time and it’s a two-way thing. It won’t probably happen any time soon, but I’m willing to try” He said biting his lower lip. He didn’t want Finnick to think he was rude or ungrateful.  Poseidon just wanted to keep things in perspective. This was the first meaningful talk they had since they met.

“I know.  Unfortunately I have to be in good graces with everybody around here, right?” He made a pause. He wanted to learn how to deal with people in the Capitol.

[valuablesecrets-blog]

“It made things easier for me too, but we’re not at that point anymore.” They had reached a point where they were supposed to be equals. The title of victor made them that. But Finnick, and that was something Poseidon wanted to keep in mind, was above basically everyone. He wasn’t just a victor. He was the youngest ever victor, he was one of the most succesful mentors and he was the Capitol’s favourite.  Despite of that, Finnick was still Poseidon’s mentor. The kid was very much like Finnick expected him to be: an annoying know it all. Ron, the other Career victor that he mentored, had been exactly like that. Ron won at seventeen, with Finnick mentoring him when he was sixteen. The evening after Ron’s Victory Interview ended in the two of them fighting on district Four’s floor and the escort and stylist having to pull them apart. They were okay friends now, though. It wasn’t his job to listen to Poseidon, but he did nevertheless. The boy had a lot of opinions and sounded like he thought he had everything figured out already. He didn’t. He was getting on Finnick’s nerves with all his talking.  “I need you to get a couple of things very straight. One, I’m still your mentor. Two, I don’t ask things, I tell them. Three, I don’t do personal. And four, ” he took a sip of his water and at last looked at Poseidon, “you talk too much for someone what wants so much. I don’t want excuses or apologies about your Games. I don’t really care. What matters is that we’re here now. We focus on that instead.”

[aqua-decoris-blog]

The expectations of a mentor were those that Finnick didn’t live up to, in her eyes. He didn’t care about the tributes before her and he won’t care for the tributes after her. She wasn’t expecting much from Finnick, but she’d hoped he would be nicer, especially in a time like this. In his eyes, nothing had changed, when in reality, everything was different for her. Nothing would be the same for her. Everything she had in mind, anything she wanted to do would be much more difficult.

The way he spoke to her had clearly gotten to her. She couldn’t handle being, well, handled. After hearing such nice words from friends and family, she wasn’t ready to go back to the reality of it all— the harshness. He didn’t know a thing about her, but he was studying her like he knew. She wouldn’t open the door crying, obviously. She wouldn’t draw anymore attention to herself, she had enough of that. With the lack of sleep she’d been facing, it was difficult to keep her emotions hidden. Upon hearing his words, she wasn’t angry or upset. More stunned than anything. She hadn’t expected such aggressive sarcasm.

She didn’t respond to what he had to say, instead just opening the door further and stepping aside. She was shaken up a bit, retreating into a shell right in front of him. She closed the door behind him and looked at him, taking in every feature she could. “You’re rude.” She blurted out. Unintentionally, of course, but it was out there, nonetheless. Her voice was still quiet, she was still scared of him.

[valuablesecrets-blog]

Luckily for him, Annie didn’t know the first thing about him. She didn’t have the right to know anything, after all. She didn’t have to know that he couldn’t look at the families of his tributes for months after they had died. She didn’t know what happened to his family and what Snow was doing to him. Distance was easier. All that everyone had to know was that he was the youngest ever victor, he was good looking and arrogant, and that Mags had a reason to love him like a son. Distance worked perfectly.  He rolled his eyes at his words. “So were you, Cresta, so were you,” he replied as he walked past her and into her house. Honesty was something that stopped bugging him a long time ago. He dealt with far worse than you’re rude on a daily bases. He shot a quick look around the hall of her house and then walked on towards the living room. Every house was built the same and he knew the houses of all the other victors, so he could easily find his way around Annie’s house as well. The house still felt like a house and not like a home. Like Annie hadn’t moved in here weeks ago. At last, when he stood in her living room and studied the sea from after the glass of the window, he spoke again. “Mags turned her kitchen into a pharmacy a couple of years ago.” Somewhere after his sixteenth birthday, to be exact. The other victor at the time, Alicia, and her didn’t have much trouble sleeping since it had been years since the Games. But with his family dead Mags had been the only one Finnick could turn to. By that time she already saw him through easily. “If you ever have - I don’t know, trouble sleeping, or trouble with anything else, you can ask her. She loves to help. She’s also a really good cook.” Insomnia was easy to recognize for him, since he was a victim of it as well. Common among victors, especially the first few years after the Games.  He turned to face her. His words had been an invitation of sorts, the only way that he knew how to show that he cared. Through Mags, who was nice to everyone and anyone, and who wouldn’t mind it at all if Annie showed up at her doorstep. Finnick didn’t expect Annie to take up the offer, though. “I was going to ask how you were doing, but you’d probably lie. I’m fine is a very common lie. It’s also very easy to see through, maybe because of how common it is.” He shrugged his shoulders.

[notthedxctor-deactivated2022122]

“Well, I wasn’t paying attention, anyway, so you did.” He huffed, sitting heavily back down on the sofa. The TV cameras were focused on the offending Twelve girl as Finnick complained about her, and they switched over to her little boyfriend acting as one of the Careers’ hanger-on tributes. It wasn’t a good strategy, one of his tributes had tried it before and it wasn’t pretty for them in the end. His tributes seemed to have a worrying habit of not listening to him, which was how they got in these messes. And exactly what Finch was currently doing in sitting around in some godforsaken part of the forest not doing anything. Survival strategies were fine if you were from a District that got money - she knew Five didn’t get money. The girl had always been aggravatingly perceptive, and keeping secrets from her was increasingly difficult over the last few years. Trying to keep the reality from her over the last week had been almost impossible. They hadn’t spoken about what a Victor’s life was, because he really wasn’t sure that she would want it if she knew.  “Do you think anyone’d mind if I casually murdered Haymitch next time I see him?” The romance act was pathetic, but it had been getting them sponsors at the expense of the other outlying districts. Twelves were meant to be about, well, twelve, and get taken out at the Cornucopia. This was different and he didn’t like that it was different. Perhaps staying out of the way was a good idea.  Or at least he thought it was, until Finnick brought up the idea of a forest fire. He looked at Katniss on the screen, who was getting further and further from the other tributes, and then turned to stare wide-eyed at Finnick. “Excuse me if the idea of a fire in a forest that my sister is in isn’t filling me with confidence.”

[valuablesecrets-blog]

Finnick had nothing personally against Katniss Everdeen or Peeta Mellark. For anything, the only tribute that he had personal problems with was that Cato guy from district Two. Two was always the most ruthless, the most vindictive, the most bloodlust. In short: the best tributes in the eyes of the Capitol and the district, and the worst in everyone else’s. The boy, Cato, seemed to have trained until he didn’t feel anything at all anymore. He seemed very ready to cut someone’s throat every time Finnick laid eyes on him. He liked the girl better, Clove. She was younger and was probably underestimated, but if she made the right decisions Finnick believed she could outlive her district partner.  It was their pathetic romance act that bothered him. Why? Because he knew he could never have what they had: a love in front of the Capitol. He had to play his part and he did it perfectly. He did it to protect Annie and Mags, and Alicia and Ron. Peeta and Katniss must have their people to protect as well. But it was an act, it was fake, they were using the idea of romance against the Capitol. And getting away with it, since every damn sponsor bought it.   “Not if I beat you to it,” Finnick replied as he looked aside to Wyatt. “I don’t know what happened to that old man. Suddenly he’s not that drunk as usual. Suddenly he seems to care, to have hope. It’s weird.” Strange maybe, but definitely annoying too. He saw something in either one of them, Finnick assumed, something that he hadn’t seen for a very long time. It was bad timing. “I’m sorry!” He was quick to apologize because Wyatt seemed very tense. “But she’s not even close to Katniss. They can’t burn down the whole damn forest. Finch will be fine. She’s smart, you know that.” Reassurance was the only thing that he seemed to be able to do for Wyatt for now. He didn’t want to claim he knew the girl, but he had seen her the past couple of weeks. She was smarter and better than most of them. Definitely better than his tributes.

[valuablesecrets-blog]

did i mention that i really, really want a gossip girl verse? this idea is just another way to explore a character and it could be a lot of fun. applying is very easy and gossip girl is a lot of fun.

[kenniememes]

what traits does your muse have?

bold the sims 3 traits your muse has.

absentminded | ambitious | angler | artistic | athletic | bookworm | brave | can’t stand art | charismatic | childish | clumsy | commitment issues | computer whiz | couch potato | daredevil | dislikes children | easily impressed | excitable | family-oriented | flirty | friendly | frugal | genius | good | good sense of humor | great kisser | green thumb | grumpy | handy | hates the outdoors | heavy sleeper | hopeless romantic | hot-headed | hydrophobic | inappropriate | insane | kleptomaniac | loner | loser | loves the outdoors | lucky | mean spirited | mooch | natural cook | neat | neurotic | never nude | no sense of humor | over emotional | party animal | perfectionist | schmoozer | slob | snob | technophobe | unflirty | unlucky | vegetarian | virtuoso | workaholic

[plentycffire-deactivated2021010]

       “You never know. I might go pick it up later,” her smile grew, trying to break down the wall that Finnick had put up the moment he left the hospital. When he was ready, he would love it. She remembered when Beetee revealed it to her, slick and state-of-the-art. But unlike Finnick, Katniss was being pushed into this whether she was ready or not. She had been placed from one arena to what seemed like another. Taking on the role of the Mockingjay was more stressful than anything she had done in her entire life. Seeing all of the destruction, doing propos pretending that she was strong and ready to fight, worrying about Peeta and the others trapped in the Capitol, it never ended for her. No wonder she could barely sleep.

      The smile quickly faded when Finnick shared about his family. Johanna and Haymitch had lost their families too. Katniss didn’t know what she would do if she lost Prim. She would probably go insane. Prim was her whole world, well, now Prim and Peeta. At least for now, Prim was safe. Peeta on the other hand, Katniss didn’t know, and that scared her to no end. She knew Finnick wouldn’t have wanted her pity, so she apologized silently with her eyes. Thankfully Finnick had reassured what she was thinking. Yes, Prim was safe, she would be okay. 

     The mood was shifting almost instantly. It was obvious that the both of them didn’t want to be in a constant sate of pain and dwell on memories. Finnick didn’t deserve this, but Katniss wasn’t sure about herself. Again, a smile appeared, but the ghost of a smile. At least it was something that wasn’t negative. The easier tone in Finnick’s voice relaxed her a bit. It was rare seeing him like this, the last time his face lit up in any way was when Katniss had spotted him only in his underwear. That moment still made her laugh when she thought about it, as well as turn her ears bright crimson. 

     “She’s good with stuff like that. She had to be when she took in patients at home that didn’t know what was going on. Trust me, she can probably find out your favorite color just by looking at you.” Suddenly an idea came to mind, but she had to quickly shut it down. This was Thirteen, not so much as a gem from the Capitol in sight. “I was gonna say if you don’t want to grow out your hair I could always get a wig for you to wear, but, unfortunately, there’s none here.”

[valuablesecrets-blog]

       “Yeah right. As if. Hold it, maybe, but you wouldn’t be able to pull of using it.” The trident was not the right kind of weapon for Katniss. She had already found her own kind of weapon, after all. She seemed to have grown up shooting arrows from a bow just like he had been using a trident since he was six years old. He had spent countless hours fishing in the water, practising with the trident over and over again until he mastered it. It hadn’t been for the Games. He had just been trying to help his father out, who had been a fisherman and sold fish to the Capitol and to the rich residents of the district, including the victors. He had trained for the Games as well, since he was twelve, but most of his skill came from that and not from the hours he spend at the Career Academy.          Mags was dead, Johanna was in the hands of the Capitol and Annie could be dead as well for all Finnick knew. That left him with Katniss, Haymitch and Beetee. Haymitch knew what happened to him - he was pretty sure Mags told everyone as soon as he had changed completely - and so did Beetee. Katniss, being the youngest victor, wasn’t exactly introduced in their fight club yet. He didn’t have to say anything aloud around the others. Maybe this was the time to point some things out. It wouldn’t be a complete introduction to the victor’s fight club, but there were barely any victors left anyway. He should consider himself lucky for still living, he knew that, but he couldn’t.             “Johanna killed Cashmere.” It sounded completely random, as if he thought of it out of the blue, but he had been pondering the idea for a couple of weeks now. “My best friend killed my former other best friend. That’s how twisted this world is.” He paused for a couple of seconds and then looked towards Katniss. “Haymitch told me that Snow probably wanted you to kill me at the end of the Quell. Since you weren’t dead by then, he was looking for another way to discredit you.”                 It wasn’t hard to talk about the Quarter Quell. He used to have trouble talking about his Games, about the way he relentlessly murdered six children, all of them older than he was, in order to survive. He had to come to terms with what he did and what that made him. Now he had long accepted what he was and what he choose to do to survive. He had made peace with it, as far as making peace with being a murderer was possible.                  The light tone of the conversation was one that drew Finnick in. It didn’t feel like small talk, but more like some form of distraction. Maybe he should go by Primrose after all. “That’s not even fair, since my favourite colour is an obvious one. You’d be able to guess it,” he commented. “Yes, that’s very unfortunate. Again: it’s not like I haven’t heard that before. My stylist tried to get me to agree to all kinds of new fashion trends. All he ever got me to do was wear basically nothing, like you’ve seen. That doesn’t bug me. All of the rest does.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

[notthedxctor-deactivated2022122]

The Powers That Be had decided to teach Five a lesson this year, it seemed. He wasn’t completely sure what they’d done to deserve that - in fact, it seemed like the Capitol had taken the foreman’s son and the Victor’s sister purely because they could. In any other year the boy would have had a reasonable chance, but everyone knew their mentors wouldn’t be allocating their efforts to him.  They’d split their mentoring duties like they usually did - Lydia would take one tribute, Wyatt the other, and Edison would potter around drinking with his old Victor friends and some of their longer term sponsors. Now that Lydia’s tribute had been killed at the Bloodbath, she’d switched her attention to attracting new sponsors - in more than one sense of the word. He’d normally help her, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he left for one second something terrible would happen. The Games app on the tablet at his side was blinking ‘FUNDS LOW’ at him, almost accusingly. If it weren’t for the bloody Twelves they might have had a shot at getting some without having to sell themselves for it for once. He’d essentially spent it all sending her basic survival supplies and it wasn’t even day 3 of the Games yet. Finnick’s sudden presence startled him slightly, and he knocked the tablet off the sofa as a result. He ended up crawling around the floor to pick it up, and looked up over the top of the sofa as he spoke. “1 - don’t creep up on me.”  He stood up again, holding the offending item in one hand and watching the television with his back to the other Victor. “2 - she’s alive but she isn’t doing anything and they’ll send something after her if she carries on like this. 3 - yeah, but have you seen the bloody Twelves?”

[valuablesecrets-blog]

“I did not creep up on you,” Finnick protested as he looked towards Wyatt with a slightly amused face expression. He tried really hard not to laugh, but the image in front of him was too funny, even if the situation was not funny at all. The little grin on his face probably gave him away. “Why do people keep saying that?” he muttered under his breath. Wyatt was the third person that accused him of it, after Johanna and Beetee. He couldn’t help it that apparently all of their ears were suddenly damaged! What was he supposed to do, have someone with him at all times to announce his presence in a room? She was alive. That much he knew, since he checked on her odds a minute ago. This was not a good year and he knew it. He had already known it when a twelve year old boy was reaped and no one volunteered. After his dead, by the hands of the district Two male Career tribute, he always went down to the district Two floor to do some good damage to Enobaria and Brutus. He had liked the kid. He knew how to fight. They just killed him because of his age, something that the Careers in his year had planned to do with him as well.  He nodded on Wyatt’s words about Twelve when he sat down besides him and shot a look at the television as well. “I have. The freaking girl on fire and her baker’s boy and their pathetic, sad, honest-to-God tacky romance act.” It was obvious that Finnick was waiting for the two of them to die. He didn’t want any of the Careers to win either because of the fact that they killed his tributes, so that left either Eleven or Finch. Haymitch was next on his list of people that he wanted to do damage to.  “Don’t worry about that. That Twelve girl is about to pull a Haymitch,” he said as he nodded to the screen. Haymitch walked all the way to the end of the arena in his Games, Mags told him, and used the forcefield to his advantage. That Katniss girl seemed to be heading there as well. “And the Gamemakers don’t want that to happen again, so they’ll think of something. I think they’ll go with fire. They’ve always enjoyed a good dose of irony.”