District 4
Heterosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
Complicated
Occupation:
???
HG Status:
Victor
Life of the Party
Last Online:
Nov 6, 2018 1:05:01 GMT -7
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Post by Pyra Elswood on Apr 22, 2017 19:16:36 GMT -7
 think of me fondly
when we've said goodbye
remember me once in a while
please promise me you'll try
What is your name?
Pyra Elswood.
Where are you from?
District 4.
Which Hunger Games did you win?
The seventy...seventy-sixth.
How did you end up here?
...I don't remember.
Every day, Pyra would be asked those questions. She remembered that. Every day, Pyra would dig her head into her knees, trying to remember the things she lost. She could remember Finnick, who was right next to her. She couldn't remember how she got into the cell. She didn't know why Finnick was put into a cell either. She was uncomfortable. Her brown eyes hated the bright light. Her hair was pulled back too tightly when she went into the dark room. Pyra hated the sound of her own name when other people said it. To her, it felt like a bad label that was attached to her. Why wasn't her family around to see her? Did she even have one? God, she couldn't remember.
Some days were worse than others. Sometimes she forgot her own name. Other times she thought of the man in the cell next to her as a stranger. She knew her thoughts were there, but when she went to retrieve them, they weren't there. She knew it had to do with something in the dark room, but she couldn't remember what was in there. She wanted a different bed. She wanted a thicker blanket because she got cold at night. Pyra didn't know why she couldn't have those things.
The blonde girl couldn't remember so many things. She couldn't remember places, like her supposed Hunger Games, or memories, like a picture of her actual home. The thing she had the most trouble with were faces. Sometimes, during her session, she would be shown faces and ask who they were. She didn't even know if they were people in her life. Sometimes she could point out Finnick, but there were other faces of mostly men who she couldn't figure out. Sometimes they would pop up in the Elswood girl's head, but when she would try to say their name, they would disappear. Sometimes she would ask questions about them, like "is that my brother?" or "wasn't he in the Hunger Games with me?", but they refused to answer her questions. All she wanted was answers, and those answers kept her up every night. She didn't sleep until her body made her pass out, only to repeat the cycle every two or three days.
She remembered a man with pink hair, and sometimes, she would talk to him with the man in the cell next to her. They would talk, but Pyra would get frustrated and end up quitting. She sometimes remembered that, if she did that, she would get hurt after it. Pyra hated the sticks the Peacekeepers carried around. They hurt her and Finnick if they stepped out of line, though she didn't know what the boundaries really were. She didn't know how she could get in trouble when she only talked to the man with the pink hair.
The victor always forgot. She wanted her memories back. There would be flashbacks of a bloodied man on the ground and a man on the beach and a little boy who called out for her when she was in a crowd of people, but she couldn't reach them. She would sometimes get flashbacks of a door and a gunshot in her ears. Sometimes Finnick was in those dreams, but sometimes he wasn't. A mattress. A spear. A diamond fishhook.
Pyra would look at herself in the mirror for hours on end, grasping the sink as hard as she could. Sometimes her nails would dig into her hands, covering the sides of the white sink in red. She remembered that she promised that she wouldn't forget someone, but that someone wasn't in her mind. She promised that she would do anything to get back to someone, but that someone was empty in her head. She promised that she would escape with someone, but she didn't know what she was escaping from.
President Snow. She remembered speaking with him through the glass. She wondered if Finnick spoke to him too. It was something about being a model victor. Something about escaping. Something about betrayal. Was she a rebel? Was she important at once? In the jail, she didn't feel important. If anything, she felt worthless. Maybe that was what how she was suppose to feel. Maybe one day, she could see the sun again. She remembered it was warm and bright, like the lights in her cell. God, she wanted to remember.
The only names she heard were her own and Finnick's name. Sometimes at night, she would call out for Finnick by opening her mailbox. Sometimes he wasn't asleep and he would answer her. Other times he wasn't and they would talk for hours. She could remember the things they talked about until she went into the dark room. After that, it felt like their conversation never happened. The Peacekeepers would make fun of her, but she didn't have the energy to fight back. She wondered if she would ever have the energy again.
The lights were dim, which meant it was night. That was the only indicator she had as to whether it was night or day. She was thinking. That was all she could do. But as with some nights before, she crawled to the door. Talking to Finnick was the only thing she could do without going crazy. She knew it was too late, that she was already crazy, but it helped her have some sort of social interaction.
She lifted her mail slot, putting her head under it so she wouldn't have to hold it up with her hand. "Finnick?" She said, calling out. "Are you awake?" If he wasn't, it was okay. She would just sit back on her hardened bed.
WORD COUNT: 999
TAG: Finnick Odair
NOTES: Yet another Finnick/Pyra thread because I love writing them
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District 4
Hunger Games Victor
Heterosexual
23 Years Old
Relationship:
??
Occupation:
HG Status:
Social Butterfly
Last Online:
Jan 17, 2024 11:55:03 GMT -7
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Post by Finnick Odair on Apr 23, 2017 17:30:55 GMT -7
It didn't really matter that Smiles was dead. It should have. The fact that Finnick had killed his tormentor that loved to torment should have meant something to him, even if the torment itself didn't end. That satisfaction Finnick had felt in the very moment when Smiles had died was gone almost as soon as it came, though. Now, Finnick only saw or thought about Smiles in the haze of sleep or the visions brought on by the stick or machine. There, Smiles had become another one of the intangible characters inside his head - villainous one moment and a complete stranger the next. As for Smiles' replacements, Finnick couldn't hold on to their faces. He was mostly sure that they changed, a different pair of faces constantly weaving in and out of the tapestry of people that took him for treatment or interviews. Usually they came with helmets on, which of course didn't help, but the main issue was that there seemed to be long gaps in between their coming. Meals now were no longer accompanied by a glare or snide comment or even a face. Meals were pushed through the mail slot and the trays were pulled back through eventually whether empty or not. It could have been weeks between the times in which they came, and he would have no way of knowing. They dimmed the lights a little every now and then, and maybe that was because it was night - or maybe it was the end of another week, or month, or year. Still, those were the only times he tried to sleep, because sleeping in the brighter light seemed impossible. Sleeping in the dim light was only mildly less so. Finnick had too much time inside his own head, but he couldn't exactly say he'd been alone in there. There was always someone. Sometimes it was the people who had betrayed and abandoned him - Elodie, Annie, Caspian, Aless, Mags, Coin. Sometimes it was people who had shown kindness - his escort team, the face of that first nurse he'd seen upon emerging from his arena, Caesar, the Capitolites he drank with whenever he was in the Capitol, his bedmates that adored him, even Snow. And sometimes, it was his neighbor, Pyra. Whenever she was in his head, she seemed to wear two faces that were interchangeable. In one face, she was standing over him in the train tunnel, smiling maliciously and telling the Peacekeepers to clean up their useful prisoner. In the other, she looked defeatedly at him back in her childhood home or ran toward the exit of the prison with his hand in hers. These faces were hard to reconcile, but more and more lately, Finnick was seeing the latter image. With that image, came the guilt. Still, sometimes when she heard him call out to him through the mail slot of the cell next to his, he would ignore her. He would lie back on his hard bed, trying but failing to sleep as she said his name. He'd wait until she'd given up, which usually didn't take too long, and then sleep was even more elusive than before. But eventually she'd call out to him again, and this time he would answer. They'd talk through the muddles of their minds, and at the end of it, he didn't feel like he understood anything any better. He did, however, feel calmer, and felt more like who he sometimes remembered he was. Those nights after they talked were the nights in which he slept the best. But he never was the one to call out to her. Tonight - or today, or this week - Finnick heard his name again. He'd given up on sleep long ago, taking to his most common pastime of pacing the room. Occasionally this hobby of his was interspersed with actual physical exertion - pushups, running, combat forms. Sometimes the effort was enough to tire him, but it almost always kept the faces further away from his mind. He'd turned for his 93rd pass from the east to west wall - or at least what he thought of as the east and west walls, as there was no way to know direction - when he heard it. "Finnick? Are you awake?"Finnick paused to consider this question. Was tonight one in which he would answer, or one he wouldn't? The debate was short - the exercise wasn't working. He crossed the incredibly short distance to his cell door, kneeling to life the flap and letting it rest on his head. "Who needs sleep?" he replied. He closed his eyes for a minute, resting his head against the smooth metal of his door. "What's on your mind, fire girl?"
WC: 782 Tag: Pyra ElswoodNotes: Saaaaames! |
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District 4
Heterosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
Complicated
Occupation:
???
HG Status:
Victor
Life of the Party
Last Online:
Nov 6, 2018 1:05:01 GMT -7
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Post by Pyra Elswood on Apr 23, 2017 20:01:03 GMT -7
Fire girl.
He seemed to say that every time she talked to him. She remembered hearing that before. But it was useless trying to figure out where she had heard it since her memories weren't there. But every time Finnick had said it, it made Pyra smile. Not like it really mattered though, since nobody was able to see her except the cameras that were always fixated on her. She hated being watched by the Peacekeepers on the television. It made her uncomfortable, moreso than she already was. Pyra hated the fact that she was being watched for something she couldn't remember. She wanted to ask Finnick, but she knew she would be more bothersome that way.
She was actually surprised when he answered her call. Some nights, she would call for him for what felt like forever only to be answered with silence. Pyra hated feeling like a child though. She didn't want to bother Finnick with all of the details in her life or bother him by calling out for him. He was the only person she could actually talk to, as the Peacekeepers were silent and she didn't want to talk to them anyways. She also didn't want to sit in her cell and cry. She wasn't a child. If anything, she was more of an adult than most people in Panem. Pyra wasn't exactly sure what she had gone through, but she had a feeling that it had been a lot. She had to grow up, and yet, she was so scared of the dark room. The farther she was away from it and the longer periods she didn't get put in there, the more she could remember, as if the memories clicked back to her. Pyra knew that one day, those memories would be wiped away forever. That was the day she was most scared of.
Pyra had waited a moment to answer, not really sure what she was going to say. It was a surprise to her that he actually answered rather than her voice echoing against the walls. She wondered if Finnick hated her and talked to her out of pity. She had a feeling that they had been friends, though for all she knew, they could've hated each other. She had a question pop in her mind, though she wasn't sure if it was a good idea to ask it for fear of a wrong answer. She wasn't trying to draw attention to herself despite calling out to him, but rather wanted--no, needed--someone to talk to.
Her hand was on the cold floor, finding the courage to speak up. She felt like her voice was gone, one that she used to proudly speak. She was never confident in herself now, and the Peacekeepers made her feel sure of that by putting her in isolation as much as possible. She knew that was the torture of it all--feeling like nobody was there to help. Sometimes, the silence would go on for days, possibly, not having any human interaction as she was alone with her thoughts. Those days were the most torturous, and it made her feel even worse when Finnick was seemingly gone when she called out to him.
She finally was able to speak back up. "Do you think anybody cares that we're in here? I just...I want to leave," she said in a stern and frustrated way. There she was again, acting like a child. But what else was she going to say? She wanted to leave, and she wanted to believe that someone that was out there cared that she was in there. The girl didn't even know if she had a family, much less someone that knew she was in a prison or a hospital or...whatever it was. If she could get away from the machine, maybe she could get some of her memories back. That was all Pyra wanted. All she wanted was to go home.
WORD COUNT: 666
TAG: Finnick Odair |
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District 4
Hunger Games Victor
Heterosexual
23 Years Old
Relationship:
??
Occupation:
HG Status:
Social Butterfly
Last Online:
Jan 17, 2024 11:55:03 GMT -7
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Post by Finnick Odair on Apr 25, 2017 11:57:36 GMT -7
In the short silence that followed Finnick's response, he tried to calm his hands. Right now, they still fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. The fabric all along the front bottom edge of his shirt was thinner than the rest, pulled and stretched by his fingers. Sometimes, he was tempted to take it off entirely, rip it into strips, and make his own rope. Then he would have something to do with his hands, but every time he came close to doing that, he knew it would be a short lived release. They would take the rope as soon as they saw that he was making it - as if rope would do him any good for escape in here. Perhaps give him a jumpsuit instead, or, worse, perhaps they just wouldn't replace the shirt. When he'd ripped up his pants too, they'd let him just be naked and cold in the cell. He had to hope he still had pride enough to avoid that, but it didn't stop him from fiddling with the edge of his shirt. Finnick's eyes opened when Pyra finally spoke, and he laughed without thinking about it. It was a laugh of surprise really, not enjoyment. Her question felt like a joke, even if it wasn't a funny one. Did anyone care that they were in there? Was District 13 scavenging up a rescue crew to get them? Was Annie crying into Caspian's shoulder at night because she missed her Finn? Short answer - no. Once, Finnick had been absolutely sure that there were people who cared about him and who, in return, cared about him. He knew that the love of Panem would only go so far, but had thought that the love of Annie and a handful of others in the district knew no bounds. He had thought that if he were in danger, someone would be there to pull him out of it. He knew now how much of a lie that all had been. He had been alone for so long without realizing it, and now he truly was. "No," he told her, shaking his head even though she couldn't see. "If they do, it's only because we're not dead yet." He paused a second, then amended, "That I'm not dead yet. But you? Maybe. You have that family, if they're still alive." The words weren't meant to be harsh, but they weren't exactly kind either. That was for two reasons. The first was that, although he needed these talks more than he would ever admit, Pyra was still ellusive in his mind. Talking with her wasn't easy. The second reason was that she did have that chance. It might not be a huge chance - it seemed no issue for the Capitol to kill whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted - but that chance for a real loved one was out there for her. That little brother and father. All of Finnick's own blood was long gone. Maybe if his blood were still alive, they wold miss him. Finnick knew how much he was pitying himself, but no one else was going to do it. What did it matter if he did anyway? He was stuck in a practically empty cell with only the occasional voice of a woman he wasn't sure whether to hate or not as company. The Peacekeepers approached him with such care when they came, sticks in the hand of each, so he had no power. Pyra had reminded him of that once - he was powerless. Powerless, useless, caged. "I'd love to leave too, but no more rescue attempts for us. Better get comfortable."
WC: 605 Tag: Pyra Elswood |
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District 4
Heterosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
Complicated
Occupation:
???
HG Status:
Victor
Life of the Party
Last Online:
Nov 6, 2018 1:05:01 GMT -7
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Post by Pyra Elswood on Jul 24, 2017 19:33:09 GMT -7
Comfortable. That was a word that hadn't been familiar to her in forever. It had been years, or what felt like it, since she was able to be home with her family. Even looking back, even with her memories, would she even be able to remember what happened a year ago, before all of this happened? Could she even remember her happiness when times were quiet and simple? Everything was rattled and the stress was nonstop. She hated who she had become--this miserable, lonely, scared girl. It was like she was a five year old inside an almost adult body. She couldn't stand it, and the rage inside her grew. But she couldn't express it. The rage was gone when she wanted to, like it was diminished by something that subdued her. And she could never get comfortable here. This wasn't her home. The Peacekeepers weren't her mother, father, or brother. Her cellmate wasn't brunette with brown eyes. He never would be.
Why couldn't he have won? Why couldn't that man from District 8 have won? What about that blonde, curly haired girl? Anyone but her. She was too dramatic, too rebellious, too caught up in everything to even realize what she had in front of her. She shouldn't have tried to save Finnick. He was the only one she had left, and yet, she believed that if she had done it again, she would have run to save herself. Finnick didn't care about her, and she shouldn't care about him either. He was the one who got her in here. All she did was try to help, and yet, all she wanted was his help.
But she knew she couldn't leave him. She wanted to believe with everything she had that she would leave Finnick to die. Pyra wanted to believe that she would kill Finnick to bring back everyone she killed. But the fact of the matter was that she wouldn't. And she hated herself for it. That was why she craved attention from Finnick night after night, wanting someone to reach out for her and for her to grab onto the only friend she had left. And the memory of how she got in here had left. Just like that. But still, she felt that anger, tenacity, and solitude whistle through her like an absent wind during a rigorous storm. She put her hands on the slot, holding it tightly. She just wanted to leave.
"No," Pyra said back to Finnick, echoing his first response. "We both know my family's dead, and I'm never getting comfortable." She needed to grow up, but it was true. She wasn't going to get used to a damn cell that she would be stuck in. Not if she only knew how she got in there half of the time. But her family was dead, she was sure of it. It didn't matter anyways. But red hair popped up in her head. Finnick's family. A girl, one that she knew from their district. It was someone she knew was special to Finnick. Was it...Elise? Anna? Aubrey? Damn, she couldn't find the name in her head.
"What about your girl? She could be alive, for all you know." But the chance of her being alive, just like Pyra's family, was close to zero. Maybe Finnick would be lucky. It wasn't his fault that he got in here. It had something to do with a train, she thought. Dammit. "She's your fire girl, with the fire red hair and all." She couldn't help but think that she already said something similar to that in a previous conversation, like deja vu dawned upon her. It didn't matter. She wished Finnick had ideas to get out instead of treating Pyra like a child and trying to get comfortable in a place where death was quite certain. As she lost her memories, all Pyra could think of was how she would probably be replaced with a girl who had different memories and different opinions. That was the worst of it all. All she wanted to be was Pyra Elswood again, and she wanted Finnick to be himself too. But she figured that they would be completely different people in no time at all, and that was what scared her the most.
WORD COUNT: 718
TAG: Finnick Odair
NOTES: I'm sorry for the late reply  |
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District 4
Hunger Games Victor
Heterosexual
23 Years Old
Relationship:
??
Occupation:
HG Status:
Social Butterfly
Last Online:
Jan 17, 2024 11:55:03 GMT -7
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Post by Finnick Odair on Jul 25, 2017 10:01:47 GMT -7
"Suit yourself," Finnick replied. "Me, I've learned how to get comfortable almost anywhere. Or at least how to fake it." The second statement wasn't one Finnick had meant to say outloud, but after the words left his mouth, he only shrugged inwardly to himself. What did it matter if his guards - who no doubt listened in on these little conversations - thought he wasn't just as at ease as he appeared? He didn't know if it was buying him any favors, his apparent calm and mostly willingness to comply, but it had served him well before. It had kept him and Annie alive, and perhaps it would continue to work for him. He'd tried resisting already, had almost made it out even, but to what end? Things weren't the way he'd always thought they had been. He used to think that the Capitol was corrupt, killing for the pleasure of it and reaping the benefits. The evidence had seemed to be all around him - in the tributes he mentored, in the lower district victors he met, in the deaths of his own family. But it wasn't true. The Capitol was keeping the peace, a tough task for a country so vast. To keep peace, sacrifices had to be made. Lessons had to be taught. This cell, and living next to Pyra, was Finnick's lesson. If he escaped to the world beyond it, he didn't know what or who he would be. If he stayed down here and did what they told him, maybe his punishment would end and he'd simply be allowed up above again. Maybe he'd be brought up for interviews again, and then become a part of the fight for peace that the Capitol had been waging for years. And so why not appear comfortable? Pyra's next words made Finnick laugh almost before she'd gotten all of them out. He turned to sit with his back to the door as he laughed, keeping the mail slot open with one hand. He leaned his head back against the solid metal as he let this now-unfamiliar sensation pour through him. He wondered if Pyra just didn't know or understand. Worse, maybe she did, and this was the Pyra he remembered from the train station, her face leering over him before he blacked out. Maybe this was the one who was his enemy, baiting him and testing him to see what his answers would be. For all Finnick really knew, Pyra choose to stay in the cell next to his to get to him, in exchange for money or protection or something similar. The cell next to his could have been richly furnished, her food top quality, and that glassy-eyed look he'd seen the one time they saw each other just an act. Finnick turned his head toward the open mail slot when the laughing subsided to answer her. "My fire girl?" he repeated. "Oh Pyra, I'm sure she is alive, but she was never mine. I was her stepping stool. I helped her out of the arena, out of her own mind. I kept her alive by being a whore, and all I really did was just set her up for him." The image flashed in his mind unbidden, too bright. Annie was looking at him over her naked shoulder, her face expressionless, while Caspian stood shirtless on the other side of the bed. His bed, the worst part of it all. It was like they were expecting it. But Finnick hadn't done anything but yell a bit, hadn't even left her. Here, though, he understood everything. She'd been passing on his secrets, and even though he didn't tell her everything, she knew enough. The riot in District 4 was the perfect place and time to finish him. Or had it been Pyra that told Peacekeepers where he was? Perhaps it was the pair of them together. For a man who had thought he was so adored by women, the ones he thought he could trust had turned out to be the ones that hated him. But he'd thought on this all too much already. He kept talking. "There was a girl who was pretty fond of me whenever I was in town. Daisy Eller, daughter of one of Snow's trusted men. She liked to call me Finny and had a habit of giggling too much, but she's a sweet girl. Never wanted it rough or asked too much of me. Maybe when they let me go topside again, I'll pay her a visit, see if she could be my new girl." The prospect wasn't so bad, assuming it would be allowed. Daisy wasn't dumb or annoying, and she was far less materialistic than most women in the Capitol. "Or maybe I should be trying to woo you. You did try to save me, though I don't know why. You also betrayed me, but I can be forgiving. I'm sure Panem would like the two of us together."
WC: 827 Tag: Pyra ElswoodNotes: All the Finnick muse
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District 4
Heterosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
Complicated
Occupation:
???
HG Status:
Victor
Life of the Party
Last Online:
Nov 6, 2018 1:05:01 GMT -7
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Post by Pyra Elswood on Jul 26, 2017 13:08:03 GMT -7
Pyra remembered a time where she would fake a lot of things. She would lie to get whatever she wanted. She did it several times during the games. She would act like someone she wasn't. She couldn't remember exactly what she did, but she remembered that feeling of being a lying, cocky girl. From what she remembered, Finnick's whole presence was a lie. He slept with girls he didn't love and pretended to be this lover of the Capitol, but in reality, he had loved a woman and he was a rebel. But for all Pyra knew, maybe that was fake too. Finnick could've been this hateful man all this time, tricking Pyra into thinking she could trust him. She felt like Finnick might think the same of her.
"I bet," she said to him, taking a jab at his ego. She was mad and uncomfortable, so even though she craved Finnick's attention, she still had a little sass in her. She wasn't wrong, because he seemed to get comfortable in any woman's bed. That was the rumors she heard, when the men talked about it in the dark room. Maybe Finnick didn't love his fire girl as much as she thought. Was it possible that Finnick just wanted to be in control, so that was why he always had women with him? She thought about it more than she should.
Finnick then started laughing, something that she didn't think was very funny. It was almost in a mocking tone. If she knew Finnick was going to be a complete arsehole, she wouldn't be in here. "I don't think that's very funny," she said to him out loud. If it was someone she cared about, she wouldn't be laughing. She tapped her fingers against the bottom of the mail slot. She was obviously frustrated, and she was thankful that Finnick couldn't see her face. She knew he would take full advantage of her anger too.
As he spoke about his fire girl, Pyra could hear the resentment in his voice. From what she gathered, the red-haired girl cheated on Finnick. She remembered the girl, a little, as she was kind and soft-spoken. Pyra had only spoken to her a couple of times, and she never thought that she would hurt Finnick, much less cheat on him. But people change, as she quickly realized. Finnick had changed. The brown-haired, brown-eyed man had changed. She had changed. She even remembered sleeping with several men pretty recently, though she couldn't remember if she was with somebody or not. It was frustrating.
"I'm sorry that happened to you. Nobody deserves that," she said to Finnick. Her body sank a little. Her body always felt exhausted, especially when she was feeling heavy emotions. But he kept talking, something that she wasn't expecting. It was about a different girl, maybe someone else he was in love with. She could understand physically cheating, but she never could understand emotionally cheating with someone. She remembered that same feeling, loving someone else when she was with another man. It was something she hated herself for and hated being like that. But she couldn't help it, and from what she could tell, neither could Finnick.
For the first time in forever, he actually paid a nice compliment instead of a sarcastic, jerk one. Daisy must have actually been a sweet girl since he commented on it. It was obvious that she was his customer and from the Capitol. He was deluded that was for sure. As she was going to speak about Daisy, he went on. Instead of talking about someone else, he started talking about her. When he was finished, it was her turn to laugh. "It doesn't matter. All you care about is your damn self and how you can hurt other people. You would be an awful person to love."
WORD COUNT: 647
TAG: Finnick Odair
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District 4
Hunger Games Victor
Heterosexual
23 Years Old
Relationship:
??
Occupation:
HG Status:
Social Butterfly
Last Online:
Jan 17, 2024 11:55:03 GMT -7
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Post by Finnick Odair on Jul 26, 2017 20:20:28 GMT -7
Finnick grinned at Pyra's little "I bet", but said nothing. Still a spitfire, even if she couldn't remember everything. He'd found that out through their conversations. Pieces of things were missing that shouldn't be. He seemed to have the opposite problem, remembering too much that hurt. He felt like he would welcome the amnesia she had. There were things he couldn't hold onto well in his mind - people, mostly - but certain memories were especially vivid and painful. He didn't want them anymore. He would welcome the chance to forget that pain. Finnick had ignored Pyra's statement about her question not being funny, because it was. It felt hilarious in its own way, but perhaps that was less her question and more his state of mind. When her words turned to sympathy though, he shook his head. "Maybe I did," he returned as if the statement came with a shrug. Being here was his punishment and his salvation. Whose to say he didn't have it coming? Even if President Snow was the one forcing him to be an escort, he should have known that alone was enough to break any relationship. And he hadn't always done good, honorable things in the name of the rebellion. He had things to pay for, and he was paying for them here. Hearing a laugh from the other cell made him raise his eyebrows. It was as unfamiliar a sound from her as it had been from him. Was it really so funny to imagine? Finnick hadn't been entirely sure what he meant by the statement. Only, it seemed like a smart tactical move for the Capitol. If they could pair up two victors that they currently had locked away and show a united front in support of the Capitol, why not? If it mean peace, he understood. He understood the moves you had to make sometimes to make a powerful statement or keep people together. He might not be as loved as he thought by those he loved, but his fame and popularity to most of the nation was still true. And Pyra was the newest victor, the latest craze that everyone loved to talk about. "You and I both wish that were the truth," Finnick returned with a half smile and a shake of his head. "Not caring enough about my own damn self is what landed me in this pretty little cell in the first place. Being more selfish might have meant I'd be strolling free out there with all my parts intact." If he ever saw Elodie again, she had a lot to pay for. He had to pee like a girl now, and that was only the tip of the iceberg. "But then you're damaged goods too, aren't you? Everything might work fine on the outside, but you're a mess inside. I think you beat me in your capacity to hurt people, especially the ones you've made love you." He hadn't loved Pyra before her betrayal - or betrayals? - but he had liked her. He had thought he could trust her, rely on her even. Her escape attempt with him either proved those thoughts true or false, and it depended on the day. They were pointing to false now. Just another trick from a girl known throughout her Games for manipulating people.
WC: 551 Tag: Pyra Elswood |
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District 4
Heterosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
Complicated
Occupation:
???
HG Status:
Victor
Life of the Party
Last Online:
Nov 6, 2018 1:05:01 GMT -7
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Post by Pyra Elswood on Jul 26, 2017 21:19:02 GMT -7
Finnick used to be someone she looked up to. He was kind and compassionate while keeping his composure. He was everything a victor should be, someone who is passionate yet knows where their loyalties stand. She was kept the memory of the night the two spent together in her old childhood home. He saved her life and they shared a drink, just a throwaway memory and nothing else. But the Finnick back then was completely different of the Finnick now. She missed the old Finnick. The one who saved her life, who encouraged her to join the rebellion and helped her to become a better victor. The Finnick now is manipulative and hateful, especially to Pyra. She was stuck with one person is an isolated jail, and it had to be someone who degraded her as much as possible.
Some days she craved Finnick's voice, even if it was degrading. At least someone would talk to her. Tonight was one of those nights. As much as she hated to admit it, Pyra did like the attention she received from people. It was a flaw of hers, and without any contact from the outside world except an occasional interview, she wanted more attention than ever. She used to get enough attention from the victor before the games, got even more attention with the tribute during the games, and got the most attention with the world after the games. It was something she loved though it came with a cost. Finnick was the only person to give her attention now. She came off as clingy and needy, though being next to him gave her comfort even if he didn't give two damns about her. At least somebody was there. She craved the touch of a man ever since Adam. That was why she was with ten other men when he refused to talk to her. And even now, she craved Finnick's. It was messed up and awful, but it wasn't her fault. That was why she hated being next to him.
But when he said that she made people love her, that was something she wouldn't accept. Pyra was silent for a little, letting the anger run its course. She dug her short fingernails into the door, trying to keep her mouth shut and think about what she was going to say instead of reacting to it. From what she remembered, Finnick loved to get a rise out of people. Every night, it seemed he would try to get a rise out of her even if he didn't reply. If he was right next to her, she might have punched him in the face. She wondered if he could say that while looking at her, though she figured that it didn't make a difference.
"See? This is why nobody loves you. I hope you know that. That's why the fire girl never loved you. That Daisy girl you were telling me about? She only loved what you could do to her. And that's why I'll never even remotely like you, because you're the most hateful, degrading person in Panem. Why do you hate me so much? I've done nothing but help you!" Alas, trying to keep calm didn't seem to work out. Finnick was there to torture her. He was the only person left in her life that she even sort of cared about. He was a man, who she didn't have a good streak with. He was also someone who had seen a lot of her mentally that most people hadn't.
She took a sigh. Pyra knew she shouldn't have said that, but she couldn't help it. If he was going to humiliate her, than she was going to do it right back to him. Yet, that wasn't the person she was. "I hate you Finnick, I really do. But we need each other, and I think we both realize that. We need each other for more than just trying to get out. We're completely messed up. So if you could just...stop, and try to act civil, I think that might work out nicely. Unless you think I deserve this shame than keep going. Please. I need to know why you hate me so much." There went the begging again. Pyra wished that he would just be gone. It would be better, she thought, if he wasn't there to dehumanize her. There were so many other people to do that to her already.
WORD COUNT: 747
TAG: Finnick Odair
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District 4
Hunger Games Victor
Heterosexual
23 Years Old
Relationship:
??
Occupation:
HG Status:
Social Butterfly
Last Online:
Jan 17, 2024 11:55:03 GMT -7
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Post by Finnick Odair on Jul 27, 2017 7:22:28 GMT -7
Finnick knew that the person he was before this cell wouldn't have said the things he did to Pyra. That Finnick, while not exactly the nicest guy in all of Panem, used his wit either for fun or to make the truth easier to take. That Finnick also thought he knew the world, and his place in it. Now, he was lost, and what was left of him wasn't kind and gentle. Pyra was the only one who would talk to him - the guards never responded to his banter, and usually avoided talking it possible. As such, Pyra got the brunt of whatever it was Finnick was feeling, whoever it was he felt like he was today. There was silence after his words, and Finnick wondered what was going on in the other cell. He heard a scratch against metal, but otherwise nothing. Had his words made her angry again? It wasn't always his intention, but it was a good side effect. He couldn't get a reaction out of his guards, and while he couldn't see the girl in the cell next to his, he could hear her anger when it came - and that was something. It was pushing what he felt onto another person, maybe, but the other person wasn't undeserving. She was the reason both of them were here, after all. Her words finally came, and he couldn't help but enjoy it just a little. Most of the words barely touched him. Annie? Maybe she hadn't loved him. Daisy? Well, Pyra was definitely right that Daisy loved what he could do to her, but she had no idea of the devotion of the girl. Even the words about him being a hateful, degrading person did nothing. She knew who he was even less than he did. But the end, her professed innocence, that's what got to him. That's what pulled him up from just sitting against the wall, turning to face the mail slot again as the anger rose inside his chest. It had almost been a game before, but now she in turn had sparked him. "Really, girl?" he spat. "Have they taken away so many of your memories that you think you're innocent? That you're a poor girl in the wrong place at the wrong time who's done nothing wrong?"Pyra kept going, still angry but pleading with him to be civil. Nice. He might need her conversation more than he'd ever admit, but right now, it sure didn't feel like he needed her at all. She wasn't his ally. He was going to say what he thought, because his head was taken up with far too many other things to keep it in. "Civil?" he repeated, pressing his face against the mail slot. "You're the reason I'm in this f*cking place!" He emphasized the words by slamming an open palm against the metal door. Closing his eyes, he took a breath before he continued. "One of them, anyway. Maybe I deserve to be here, but that doesn't excuse what you've done. What was that little rescue attempt even about, Pyra? Torturing me by getting so close to the outside world? Your game is too twisted even for me to understand." There were times he felt guilt for that, for running back at the last moment to kill Smiles, but this was not one of those times. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd run back or not. The two of them would never have made it onto the streets. Peacekeepers would be there to block their exit, and he would have gone back to his cell - with Smiles still as his jailer.
WC: 607 Tag: Pyra Elswood |
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District 4
Heterosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
Complicated
Occupation:
???
HG Status:
Victor
Life of the Party
Last Online:
Nov 6, 2018 1:05:01 GMT -7
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Post by Pyra Elswood on Jul 27, 2017 19:29:13 GMT -7
Pyra wondered if Finnick and her could actually be friends. Back before the rebellion became Panem's biggest savior, or threat, she actually wanted to be Finnick's friend. He was someone she could confide in. He was the only person who knew about her breakdown which almost lead to her death, and he was the only person who knew her complexity with the tribute and the mentor. For some reason, he knew more secrets about her than anyone else in Panem. She wasn't sure why she told him those things and not anybody else, and now, she was regretting it. He used all the dirt he had on Pyra against her, which made her hate Finnick. She didn't need Finnick talking about how much she betrayed him and everyone else, especially when she could barely remember it. Pyra was obviously already paying the price for it in her cell.
She had made a lot of choices in her life, and she knew that if she could just change one of them, she wouldn't be here. Pyra didn't even remember half of them, and yet, she just knew. She remembered a lot of her childhood and most of what happened before she met the brunette victor. Looking back, she wished she made a friend or two instead of working nonstop. Maybe that way, she would have been able to support herself. If she could've just fell in love with the right person, or was influenced by someone who was more selfish than she was, things would've worked out. They might have even led her to a good life with children and hard work. She would've never have met Finnick or the two other boys. They would be gone from her memory completely because they would've never existed in her life. They would've just been passerby's.
Pyra put her head against the metal door, listening to what Finnick first said. She already dwelled on it too much, knowing that she was never in the wrong place at the wrong time, but rather, made choices that lead to bad decisions. The blonde didn't pity herself. That was something she never did. She knew she deserved everything that was coming to her, and though she occasionally complain, she knew it rather well. She would defend herself, but she would never be pitiful of who she had become.
But what jolted her nerves was when Finnick started yelling. She had only heard him yell once before, but she couldn't remember when. It was a feeling that really did scare her. He had always seemed so composed when she was with him before, and when he slammed him hand against the metal door, she jumped. She didn't think she could ever get used to the anger-inducing Finnick. She wanted to see his face and see the anger that was on there. She couldn't tell if it was his own or one implanted by the Peacekeepers. Either way, it still completely pissed her off.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. It didn't matter because he couldn't see her, but it was what she felt. "Yeah, alright Finnick. You win. Because I wanted to risk my life and the lives of my family so I could just get captured and so they could be killed. You're an idiot." Pyra was a bit sassy, something that came out when she heard something completely insane. What Finnick said was just that. "I saved you because I figured that you were the one person I could trust. I felt bad for you being stuck in that cell because of your own actions and cared about a friend in trouble. You're the one that got me in here, not the other way around. I came back for you, twice. If you really thought that I was torturing you, you may as well be brain dead already. I sacrificed everything for you, which is more than I can say about my own family." Pyra knew that Finnick would keep going on and on and so should she. He would probably call her selfish, telling her that she only saved him because she was brainwashed or something stupid. Maybe she was brainwashed now, but she remembered her independence and the impact of the choices she made. She remembered running back to Finnick once and going to Finnick in his cell another time. The girl sunk, the mailbox closing as she held her head down. She knew she could still hear Finnick if he were to say anything, but she felt defeated.
WORD COUNT: 761
TAG: Finnick Odair |
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District 4
Hunger Games Victor
Heterosexual
23 Years Old
Relationship:
??
Occupation:
HG Status:
Social Butterfly
Last Online:
Jan 17, 2024 11:55:03 GMT -7
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Post by Finnick Odair on Jul 28, 2017 7:27:14 GMT -7
It was hard to focus on their escape attempt, hard as Finnick was trying to. He wanted to understand it as a way to understand her, but it was mostly a series of images and feelings. Satisfaction and anger at hitting his guards, at killing Smiles. The adrenaline of running, of avoiding bullets. Letting himself be pulled toward the door, confused and afraid. Guilt that didn't have the right place in any of it. Maybe if he could understand why they had been running toward the Capitol streets, he could understand everything else. He could understand those final moments in the train station, after the train pulled up and Pyra was there. Or when the train was shooting past and darkness took him. All of it was so hard to hold on to. Pyra's sarcasm was thick, and in a different mood, he might have laughed at it. He did not feel like laughing now, not with the anger bubbling under his surface. His fingers clasped either side of the mail slot, the edges of the rectangle digging into his skin. Once, he had amazing control over his temper. Nothing anyone could say or do would rile him up. It had been part of his Career training, a part he took very seriously although many hadn't. But control on his emotions slipped in here, because most of the time, those emotions were all he had. They slipped especially with Pyra. "Everything," Finnick repeated, emphasizing each syllable with his eyes still closed. He heard her mail slot close, but continued whether she was listening or not. "You knew we'd never make it out. You knew they'd be waiting for us before the street. You're here because you want to be." He'd calmed some, but his voice was still edged with anger. It was better when he was alone in prison, before she came. He was sure that he had better understood who Pyra was back then. He wouldn't have gotten so close to freedom either, wouldn't have killed Smiles so that he could be replaced by faceless, voiceless guards. He would have kept on in that better cell, able to leave it for the occasional interview. He would have kept a little dignity and wouldn't endanger his chances of being let out by having this frustrating conversations with Pyra Elswood. "You shouldn't have come back for me," he told her. "Whatever the deal was, whatever you were offered, you should have stayed away from this place and from me. It would have been better for both of us." Suddenly there was the feeling of Pyra's arms locked around his chest as the blackness started to take him, the sound of her voice pleading with him to get up. His anger left him then, his grip relaxing on the mail slot. She'd held him the way he'd held her, back in that old house, but everything was different between those two times. The world was a different place. He was a different person. Finnick turned away from the mail slot, letting it close as he again sat with his back against the wall. He'd still be able to hear her, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. He wished he could see her, be in the cell she was in, be able to hit her or touch her. Both times they'd held each other, things had seemed to make sense. Now, solid metal was between them, and nothing did. Now, he both hated her and wanted her with him, both wanted her imprisoned for what she'd done and wanted her free. "Tell me something happy, fire girl," he said, more to himself than anything, unsure if those words could even reach her.
WC: 620 Tag: Pyra ElswoodNotes: These roller coaster emotions here... |
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District 4
Heterosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
Complicated
Occupation:
???
HG Status:
Victor
Life of the Party
Last Online:
Nov 6, 2018 1:05:01 GMT -7
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Post by Pyra Elswood on Jul 28, 2017 13:34:04 GMT -7
Pyra wasn't sure what to feel. Some days she felt nothing, immune to anything Finnick said and completely losing herself in the process. Other days, like the one she was currently having, she felt more emotion than she wanted to. It was a sensory overload for her body, sometimes even wishing for the days she felt nothing over the ones where she felt everything. It could be overwhelming and hard to cope with. She could see flashes of fading memories and feel the questionable motivation that she thought she felt before. It was the motivation that Finnick gave her, which was now diminished in the prison they were in. In all honesty, it was the motivation they both needed right now.
All the blonde victor wanted was to hate Finnick. When they were saved, released, or escape, she wanted more than anything to move on from the red-haired victor. Pyra wanted to cut ties and never speak to him again. He was cruel and condescending, which are traits she always tried to stay away from. But she knew that she wouldn't be able to do that. He was all she had left, and she wanted to cling to him like he was the only person left in the world. And to her, he was. It might now have been intended that way, but putting the two together in adjoining cells was a blessing and a curse. They were so close to each other, and yet, they weren't able to even see each other's faces. She knew it was probably intentional, making them close to talk to each other but far enough to not see or touch each other. In all honesty, she was afraid that Finnick might beat her to death if they were able to be close enough together. Though she was strong, she won the games with her ruthlessness and wit. Finnick was a strong man and almost a foot taller than her. He could crush her skull with just his bare hands. Just another thing Pyra had to worry about.
Finnick's voice had always been intense in a way, and it hadn't changed much. When she listened to him, his voice sounded distant with the mail slot closed. He was still clear, and she was still listening. Finnick still insisted that she came here on her own accord, and all she could do was sigh. She was losing a battle despite her telling the truth. So Pyra gave up, still listening but so tired of arguing.
"I don't think so," she said, loud enough to hear but still soft. She didn't think it would be better if she didn't come here. All Pyra would do was worry, wondering if anything was to become of her friend. With the man she loved dead and her family not understanding what she was going through, she needed someone like Finnick, who could relate to her when nobody else could. Maybe she did come here for her own selfish reasons, but there was no going back.
Tell me something happy, fire girl. It echoed through her mind. He said the same thing a couple nights after the games, where he essentially saved her. Pyra longed for those nights again, and though it wasn't that long ago, it felt like forever. "We're still alive," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She opened up the mail slot with her index finger, letting him know that she was still listening. "It could be any day now until someone finds us. We just have to stay alive, that's it." Pyra didn't mention that she had no idea what she was going to do when she got out or where she was going to go. All she knew is that she wanted to leave this prison cell, and she would figure everything else out. Just as she always did.
WORD COUNT: 663
TAG: Finnick Odair
NOTES: They hurt my heart gah |
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District 4
Hunger Games Victor
Heterosexual
23 Years Old
Relationship:
??
Occupation:
HG Status:
Social Butterfly
Last Online:
Jan 17, 2024 11:55:03 GMT -7
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Post by Finnick Odair on Jul 29, 2017 11:28:15 GMT -7
Finnick felt drained, sitting there against his metal door. Pyra could do that to him. Time and time again, she seemed convinced of her innocence, despite the things he knew in his head. Or the things he thought he knew, the things he was sometimes so sure of and which sometimes were extremely elusive. She had never admitted to his accusations, and whether it was because she couldn't remember or she really believed she hadn't done those, he wasn't sure. It wasn't like he expected her to apologize for them - he had never apologized to her, except for that one time - but it was frustrating for her to keep denying everything. It was worse when he couldn't see her as she was denying them, because he couldn't tell what she was really thinking underneath her words. It seemed like she had given up for the night too, no longer insulting him or denying him. Maybe it was one of the good side effects of their pretty awful relationship: in a place where it was hard to sleep, you could always count on your neighbor to tire you out. That could have been why they were placed next to each other. Maybe it was a mercy, as Snow and his jailers no doubt knew that these two could never get along, and so why not let them bicker all the time? Why not let them exhaust each other and provide a little entertainment for the bored guards who were watching and listening to them? It could be another way in which the Capitol was both trying to make him pay for his past and also trying to save him. Finnick hadn't been expecting a response to his words, had mostly only said them as a reminder of that old time. He was surprised, then, when Pyra tried to fill his request. "We're still alive." Yes. They were both still alive. He felt like he'd already lived out years down here, each moment of his time blurring together except for perhaps an hour total that stood out as anything interesting. He'd once said that he was too proud to end his own life, and he wondered if that was still true - if there was still enough pride left in the shell of Finnick Odair to be locked in a room with a pistol and not consider ending it all. It would be hard to know unless said pistol presented itself, but there was little to be proud of here and now. Being still alive didn't sound like such a happy thing. Lifting the door on his mail slot, Finnick turned his head a little to speak but didn't move to face it. "We'll outlive the world down here, and I'm not sure that's anything to be happy about," he told her, back to his normal calm way of talking. He'd already told her once that no one was coming for them, but he didn't have the strength to say it again. "If someone does find us, I don't even know what I'll be up there. I'm not sure they'd want me to come out." He couldn't imagine who would show up to open his door if it wasn't a jailer or Snow himself. If he left, it would probably only ever be because they had decided that he should. Anyone else might take one look at him and think he was better left in here. And who could blame them? "If that's the best you've got, I'm turning in," Finnick said, starting to get up. "Got a full day of sitting in my cell tomorrow, staring at the walls, and I'll need my strength. Goodnight, Pyra." He stood, letting the mail slot door close as his fingers left it. He stretched a little and started for his uncomfortable bed. He'd actually sleep well tonight - that much he could be sure of. He always could after a conversation with Pyra. He didn't look forward to the dreams, but the sleep, at least, would be nice.
WC: 672 Tag: Pyra Elswood |
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