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 Dec 7, 2017 22:18:33 GMT -7
Pyra sat by the water under a tree. Her shoulder was still healing, so she wasn't much help when it came to trying to hunt for animals. She could easily pick berries and collect water, but she wa was restricted in anything that required extensive use of her arm. Neither of them really had a sense of direction when it came to the woods they were in. Fortunately, they were able to find the body of water that they were sailing on only a couple days ago. She could tell it was a lot more downstream than before. That said, she had no idea where their boat was. For all she knew, it could've sunk or was still in the same place. She honestly didn't want to find it either. It wasn't that she wanted to be stranded in the woods, but they were doing fine--at least, as fine as two half-crazy victors could be. She said it a million times before and she would say it again: she would rather be out here in solitude than be surrounded by people. One person was already enough for her.
She gave Finnick the shirt and pants for the moment, since they were sharing the pair. Pyra wanted to take care of him more than she wanted to take care of herself. She always gave him the bigger portions for food and watched out for him. She hated that she clinged to him like a lost child. She remembered when he ran away and the way she reacted from that. Pyra didn't want that to happen again, though now, she could be at least a couple feet away from him and be okay. She would still get separation anxiety, though it wasn't as bad as before.
The rain didn't help, though. It made the usual silent forest loud as water pattered against the tree leaves and the bigger body of water next to her. It was noisy, something she didn't like, but she dealt with it. Since the prison, she was sensitive to a lot of things--noise, touches, and even looking at bright or complex things. Pyra didn't want to admit it, so she tried to deal with it as best as she could. She took deep breaths. Everything was going to be okay. Right now, everything was okay. There was nothing Pyra should complain about. She had to be there for Finnick, both mentally and emotionally since she wasn't helping physically.
She stood up, leaning against the tree and looking at Finnick with a half-smile. "If I can do anything to help us, let me know," she said more loudly than usual over the beating rain. Pyra covered her upper body with her arms, still not fully comfortable opening herself up when she wasn't using the shirt and pants. The blonde was still clothed in undergarments, as the prison actually let her have that, but she hated showing her skin after what she did in the Capitol before the prison. She still would rather let Finnick have the clothes rather than her though. She wanted him to be healthy.
"Once it stops raining, maybe we'll be able to actually find some animals. We haven't had much protein in a while." She felt like a caveman in the wild. She and Finnick survived off of hunting and gathering. Is this how people lived before the Dark Days? She really didn't know.
Pyra was trying to keep a level head through it all. She was shaking from the loud sounds around her, though she was trying to hide it. Maybe there would be some luck for them. Maybe a deer would walk up to them or there would be a turnip batch that they would walk into. She wanted more than anything for them to run into some luck. That was all she wanted. She knew they were so lucky so far, even with an incident with Finnick's outrage and Pyra's dislocated shoulder. It was about as lucky as they could get.
WORD COUNT: 672
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 Dec 31, 2017 9:32:15 GMT -7
Finnick was already starting to get used to life out in the woods after only a few days. The simple cause and effect of life out here gave him a sort of mental clarity that he certainly wouldn't have had surrounded by people back in District 4. He hadn't broken down and tried to kill Pyra again since that first day, so that too was a win. Out here, they had to survive, and that was the only thing that was important. There was still no part of him - or at least, no part of him large enough to pay much attention to - that wanted to die. So, with a purpose, they kept going on. He had accepted more about his current self than he might have thought he would. He understood that there was little left of pre-prison Finnick. When they swapped the pair of clothes between them, he accepted when it was his turn instead of being the gentleman and making Pyra keep them. He ate what he could and didn't try to make sure she had more than him. He accepted that he needed her. Did that make him weak and selfish? Maybe, but there were other things to worry about out here. Keeping his sanity was almost higher on the list than surviving, and doing that meant not looking too hard into his own motivations for what he did. Finnick leaned against a tree, looking up into the wet canopy of leaves above him. He longed for the long, supple leaves you could get off the trees back home. Barring that, he would like a knife. Both of those could be used to create rope, the latter by stripping the bark off the trees. Rope was important, both to him personally and to surviving out here. They could build with it, catch things with it. There was probably a knife back on the boat they'd come in, but he had no idea where that was. He could instead make rope with the branches that had fallen haphazardly throughout the forest, although that process was much longer than the first two options. He fiddled with a stick in his hands as he considered it. It was possible, but not in this rain. He couldn't feel things right in the rain, and wet fibers didn't react the same. Pyra spoke and he turned his gaze in her direction. He gave her a small smile. "You'll probably know before I do," he returned. She could help make the rope, but it was useless to talk about now. He hadn't even done it in years, not since before his Games. Sure, he'd worked with rope and netting since, but he hadn't had to make it from scratch since working with his father on the fishing boat. Maybe he didn't remember it right, or maybe it wasn't a process he had the capability to teach anyone. Was it a good thing that he was thinking so much about rope, or was he only thinking about it because his fingers ached for something to do? Would he simply get caught in the process of making rope and be unable to be pulled out of it until he died from starvation? "Once it stops raining, this whole damn forest will be a little less useless," he agreed. The thought of meat did make his mouth water though. He felt hungry almost all of the time. " We haven't ha much protein in a while" felt like a gross understatement. Again, there was no knife, but there were rocks. There were things they could use, if they both weren't too slow from being locked up in cells. Maybe meat would give him the strength and patience to make the rope. Ah, back to the rope again. But still, this rain was slowing everything down, and even if it stopped right now, it would be a little time before meat or rope were possible. "I'm going for a swim," he said suddenly, taking a few steps closer to the water's edge. It seemed like a ridiculous thing to do in the middle of a rainstorm, when the focus should be on staying dry and warm, but he was succeeding in neither of those things. He was cold and wet, although the tree and helped keep some of the water off of him. He stood under Pyra's tree, looking out over the water for a moment before starting to strip off the shirt and pants. He searched around for a sizable rock for a moment before setting it on top of the pile. The rock was large enough to keep the clothes from blowing away, but not so large that they weren't still clearly visible. "Wouldn't want to lose this pair too," he said to Pyra, raising his eyebrows, before turning back to the water. There was a short drop to the water, but not one that would prove deep enough for him to dive in. Finnick slid down the short bank and entered the water. It was unsurprisingly cold, but he ignored it as he went out until he was far enough to submerge himself. When he resurfaced, shaking his hair out of his eyes, he was facing the open sea before him. It was being pelted by rain, but it wasn't a hard enough rainstorm to cause great waves or anything just yet. He thought for a moment that perhaps he saw something that wasn't sea out there, moving along the water - but then, it could simply be the result of his fragile mind.
WC: 929 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 Mar 15, 2018 11:14:26 GMT -7
Back home, before all of this, the elements never bothered her. She would go fishing in an all-out thunder storm, trying to make what little money she could in any kind of weather. But in the middle of nowhere stripped of everything, even the tiniest drop of rain on her skin made her wince. Like every strange physical and mental scar from the prison, she tried to hide that too. Finnick and Pyra were sown together by a single thread that can snap and come back together at any time. They were all each other had, and yet, that thread just barely held what was left of their previous minds. Pyra knew Finnick was trying to stay as normal as he could too, but that was it -- neither of them were normal and would never be normal again. Maybe, for Pyra, she wanted to seem as put-together as she could because that was what she did before. Maybe it was the fact that she might lose Finnick if she wasn't trying to be normal. Both of them had so many scars to show but neither of them tried to show them.
Pyra was glad that they had managed to keep at least one pair of clothing. It was dirty and gross, but it covered at least one of them. It was pretty thick clothing and made out of good Capitol material, so it hadn't really torn from all the wear that it had been through. At least the Capitol cared that they were wearing good clothing, though that was never something on Pyra's mind in the prison.
She watched as Finnick plunged into the water. If it wasn't for the fact that she hated rain and she didn't want her bandage to get wet, she might've joined him. The sea was the only thing in this foreign place that was recognizable from back home with the exception of Finnick. The blonde didn't care for things to be recognizable, but the sea was always there and it kept her grounded. Pyra's only goal in life was to keep Finnick safe and make up her debt. The sea, the world around her, the food she ate -- none of that mattered to her unless it helped Finnick.
From a distance, she thought she saw something. She heard a slight noise ringing in her ear, like the noise she used to recognize on her boat back in District 4. An engine perhaps, but maybe she was just hallucinating again. There were many times where she thought something was there but it wasn't, so she ignored the slight ringing in her ears and the small dot on the horizon of the sea. She looked down towards the ground, trying to come back to reality. It usually helped, focusing on her surroundings and realizing the sound and sight wasn't real. But it didn't go away after a minute, or two, or five. In fact, for her, it got louder.
"Do you hear that noise?" She said, slightly annoyed. She normally wouldn't ask Finnick about it, but she had to make sure that it wasn't just her hearing it. The noise got louder, and so did her heartbeat. The louder it got, the faster her heart went. She tried to keep the ground beneath her, but she was breathing faster. She had to hide it from Finnick. It was just a small panic attack, nothing more. Probably from the rain, and if not the rain, the noise. It was nothing to her.
She then could make out the figure in the distance. The all-too familiar look of something from District 4. A boat with a loud engine. Her hands went up to her face. She couldn't control her emotions. Were they here to kidnap them again? Were they going to finish them off? Maybe it was the rebels, wanting to torture them and ask them what they knew about the Capitol. She had written herself out of Panem's narrative and she had no intention of become the victor she wasn't again. She had no intention of interacting with society and putting on this fake smile and being someone she wasn't because she knew she could never be that person again. Her breathing was still getting faster and so was her heart. "I don't wanna go back," the girl's voice shook out in fear. "I'm not going back. They can't take me!"
WORD COUNT: 738
TAG: Finnick Odair
NOTES: omg I'm so sorry I'm so late Rebecca
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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 Mar 18, 2018 10:11:00 GMT -7
Finnick ignored the thing he might or might not be seeing out on the water. In the days they'd been out here, it was easy to forget that anything or anyone else existed, and so it seemed impossible that some vestige of humanity was sailing along out there. He ducked his head under the water again, pushing himself deep into the water to let it completely surround him. It was still freezing, although his body was becoming more used to it. Part of him welcomed the chill anyway. It reminded him that he was still alive, alert, maybe mostly sane. Did the insane feel things like cold? Did they question things they saw on the horizon, or did they just accept them? When he resurfaced, Finnick could hear something in addition to the vision he saw. An engine of some kind, his mind supplied. Was his mind conjuring sounds now to help with his hallucinations? But he didn't have long to wonder on this before Pyra's voice reached him on the water, asking if he heard it. "So it's probably real then," he called back in answer. Only probably, because as much as he relied on the fire girl still ashore, he couldn't really be sure that either of them were the most trustworthy. He looked back to the horizon, seeing the thing that was most clearly a boat coming closer. He swam back toward the shore, all the while facing the boat, until his feet could touch. He walked back, water dripping off the body that was continually re-wet by the rain. Now that the boat was confirmed as probably real, he couldn't stop staring at it. Someone else's boat. Someone from District 4, by the look at it. Someone from the place he had once called home. He didn't know what to think about that. He had given himself to this forest living for the time being, and wasn't sure he liked reminders that there were one other places he'd wanted to be. Pyra spoke again, and he could hear the fear in her voice. Finnick looked at her and took a step closer, but made no other move to comfort her just yet. "We're not going back," he told her, his voice giving off a false sense of conviction. Because he couldn't really know that. He was a killer, and killers deserved worse than he had got. "We're not going back." He sat then, a couple of feet from his companion, and continued to watch the boat. It still seemed to be coming toward them, ever closer. Could it see them? They weren't hidden, but they weren't waving bright orange flags either. And it was raining. "Maybe death comes on a ship from District 4," he said, mostly to himself.
WC: 463 Tag: Pyra ElswoodNotes: Ack, sorry it's probably not much to go off |
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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 Mar 20, 2018 17:39:58 GMT -7
Pyra was used to hearing a lot of noises, even out in the woods that they resided in. Sometimes there would be water rushing, birds chirping, and mysterious footsteps of small animals. In her mind, there was nothing louder than the sound of the boat and the heavy rain that surrounded her. Even the bombs that fell in the Capitol weren't as loud as the sounds were. She covered her ears, but she could still hear it. Her heartbeat grew just as loud as the other two sounds. She couldn't take it.
"You...did you call them??" She asked Finnick, anger building up. He has always thought she was the one who betrayed him, but maybe it was just the opposite. "You kept blaming me! This was your fault!"
She got so paranoid. Her chest was rising up and down heavily as her breathing was at a million miles an hour. She felt as if the air around her was unreachable, like a feeling of downing. She was grasping for something that wasn't there to her. Pyra's eyes wandered aimlessly towards Finnick's arm. There was a small scar there, like most victors had when they won. It was the scar from where their trackers were in the games. But Pyra was knocked out cold. She never saw anyone take a tracker out of her arm. Maybe they followed her that way. Maybe they tracked her and were going to kill her.
"Your arm," she yelled, not taking her eyes off of it. "The tracker. It might still be there. They could've put a tracker anywhere. You might have told them to track us!" Her voice was in panic, growing louder and louder as she tried to speak over all of the noises that filled her ears. The first thing she had to do was get the tracker out. The tracker could be her death. Maybe she would get shot if she ran away. So she had to do the only thing that came to mind.
She looked to the side of her--a rock that had been soaked by the rain. She crawled over to get it, setting her arm down on the ground. Her small scar was there too. It had to still be there. There was no other choice. She raised the rock high in the air, and with all of her might, smashed her good arm with the rock. She let out a scream, but she had to keep doing it. She repeated the action, tears streaming down her face. The boat was getting closer, and the sound wasn't stopping in her ears. She shut down all critical thinking. She could no longer protect Finnick like she promised herself.
WORD COUNT: 454
TAG: Finnick Odair
NOTES: Sorry, this wasn't a lot to go off of either lol |
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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 10, 2018 9:04:44 GMT -7
"Did I call them?" he repeated, the notion sounding ridiculous even to someone as crazy as him. Was there a telephone lying around here somewhere that he was supposed to know about? Or did she really think that after all that time in the prison, locked up just as tightly as she was, that he'd somehow had a chance to maintain any connections with the outside world? Well, perhaps he would have questioned it of her, since she had betrayal in her past. Right? He still went back and forth on that one, although more often than not, he was mostly sure she hadn't betrayed him. That small doubt was still there. But how could she doubt him? "My fault?" Finnick repeated again, feeling his anger rising to meet hers. It was a defensive thing - since after all, a lot of their current situation was actually his fault. He was aware of this usually. The boat on the horizon, however, was very much not his fault. Right? He couldn't remember doing anything that would have caused it to be there, and so this he felt like he could defend himself again. "I'm still planning to stay as far from civilization as I can, same as you. Unless you're really the one that called them here." Maybe it would make sense. Maybe she was that old Pyra he had remembered sometimes in the cells, and she wanted to return to a life of comfort - if that was even possible in this world. Finnick's eyes traveled down to his arm when she mentioned it, settling on the small scar. He'd forgotten about that. He didn't remember them taking it out of him - although he remembered a bandage on it after he had awoken from the arena. It had been cut since he'd emerged at least, and it must be gone. It had to be gone. He'd never actually questioned it before. Should he question it now? But no, that was ridiculous. The Capitol would have known him for a traitor long before they did if the tracker was still in his arm. He didn't figure Snow for the kind of person to wait for years upon years before acting on something as big as treason. But she'd put a tiny doubt in his head which she then pushed out again by blaming him for it. "Why? Why would I do that?" he asked, almost as if she might actually have a likely answer for that. Finnick had been moving toward Pyra - to what end, he wasn't sure - and now paused as she crawled away from him toward... a rock? She picked it up, and even though it probably should have been obvious what she intended to do with it, he remained clueless until the rock smashed down into her arm. Her good arm, go figure. The scream that escaped from her mouth sliced into his brain and pushed everything out except for his desire to protect and preserve her. He couldn't let her get hurt again, even if she was doing it to herself this time. As she brought the rock down for a second whack, Finnick lurched toward her. He barreled into her, his arms reaching for both of hers as he tried to pin both arms to the ground and straddle her chest to keep her from moving. It was a move that was sure to hurt her, and put him in danger of being beaten with a rock as well, but it was better than watching Pyra smash her arm to pieces. Are you crazy? he wanted to ask, but the mental state of both of them was anything but sure. "So are you trying to kill yourself now?" he asked instead, keeping his force on her limbs steady. "Nothing is in there. There can't be anything in there. There can't be." He was probably trying to convince himself too. "You're about to give yourself another useless arm, and I can't spoon feed you to keep your useless self alive because I can't be trusted not to beat you with the spoon too. If we even had a spoon." Dammit, he missed spoons. A little. But that wasn't the point here.
WC: 702 Tag: Pyra ElswoodNotes: It was perfect
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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 10, 2018 10:27:36 GMT -7
Deep down, Pyra knew that Finnick didn't cause any of this. In any other circumstance, she wouldn't have even blamed him. But Pyra didn't know anything now, let alone what she really thought. She was panicked, more panicked than she had ever been before, more or less. She still wasn't quite sure what they did to her down there, or Finnick, but it obviously wasn't anything good. Pyra didn't even register what Finnick said to her, not even paying attention to the way he raised his voice. Normally, she would be terrified of that, but she could barely hear him over the sounds of the environment.
Even as she smashed her arm down with the rock, she couldn't register what was going on except pain and sounds. Her own screams sounded muffled. It reminded her of whatever happened in that dark room back in the prison. Her screams were muffled back then too with things being poked in her body. All she could feel was pain and the sound of machines. It wasn't any different now except that her paranoia was through the roof. The only thing that mattered to her was getting that tracker out of her damn arm.
Pyra used all of her strength on her bad arm, though it wasn't a lot. Between the dislocated shoulder and the lack of any kind of nutrition made her strength dulled. But it was still her arm being smashed in between two rocks, and she wasn't completely weak. There was something in there, there had to be something in there. The rock didn't even cut her wrist, rather was leaving a huge bruise. She would've kept going no matter what if Finnick wasn't there. If he wasn't there, there was a possibility she would've bled internally if she hasn't already.
The blonde felt a force grab her dislocated arm, her screams almost getting louder as the force was also on her bruised arm, and now her chest. She saw Finnick straddle her, and she was in so much pain. This was it, she thought. Finnick was going to finally kill her. The pressure from his body would surely break hers. It wouldn't take long until her arms broke and her chest collapsed. She didn't know that the force wasn't that bad, but to her, it felt like agony.
Her body was shaking immensely, her tears kept streaming from her eyes as she dropped the rock. She laid there, knowing that she couldn't struggle if she was going to die. In all honesty, Finnick should kill her now. She was worthless, now with two messed up arms, and a paranoia that still kept echoing in her ears. She wondered if the boat heard her multiple screams. Maybe they would find her dead body and bring it back to District 4. She would honestly rather rot out here than everyone see what she had become.
Finnick then spoke, but his words weren't as threatening as she thought they were going to be. There was something about spoons, but there was one thing certain: he said that she was useless. Still, if he found her useless, he could easily kill her. For once in her life, her position was completely vulnerable. In the Games, she had an up on everybody else. She was always the one that would have the advantage. Now, she was completely useless as she didn't even struggle to get out from under Finnick. There was still something there though, something in her. "Please," she whimpered to Finnick. "I don't want to die. Please don't kill me." She was begging at this point. Pyra was still under the impression that Finnick planned on killing her. Maybe he stopped her because there was something in there and he didn't want the Capitol to stop tracking them. But one thing was certain: even though she was so close to death, as one snap from Finnick would end her, she didn't want to die. She was still alive, and to her, that was all that mattered.
The engine of the boat stopped. Faint footsteps followed. She didn't take her eyes off of Finnick. "Run, Finnick. Just leave. You're right. I'm useless." Her voice was so soft, probably from all the screaming that she did.
WORD COUNT: 715
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 Jun 3, 2018 14:04:26 GMT -7
Pyra's screams pounded in Finnick's ears, both before and after he grabbed her. They were louder than the rain, louder than the engine of the boat, louder than the thudding on his own heart. With this and the adrenaline coursing through him, Finnick expected Pyra to fight him. A part of him wanted her to fight him even while he was trying to keep her under some sort of control. Instead, she went almost limp under his grasp. Her body was shaky, but not in any attempt to push him off. He didn't expect her to give in so quickly. She was supposed to be a fighter. When the girl spoke, her voice was small and scared. "Please. I don't want to die. Please don't kill me." The words struck him harder than if she'd actually hit him with something and he froze - not that she was struggling anyway. "Kill you?" he asked, as if the idea had never occurred to him. They both knew it had, though. Something about hearing it from her mouth hit him harder than admitting it outloud himself. He was supposed to protect her - he knew that sometimes. He was supposed to protect her like she was supposed to protect him. They only had each other in this world. But how could he protect her from herself? How could he do something like that when he couldn't do the same for himself? Finnick might have said more, but he heard the engine stop. He heard the footsteps, but his eyes remained locked with Pyra's. He hadn't gotten off of her, and neither of them had tried to move yet. She spoke first though, and there was such pain in her eyes. Such defeat. She was no longer the paranoid girl of a few seconds ago, but the girl willing to sacrifice, again, for him. Seconds were passing, and the anticipation was thickening the air like fog - but all Finnick could do was look at her. There was so many options laid out before him. He could take her advice, run and leave her to whatever and whoever it was that was in that boat. He could kill her, easily, despite the inner struggle. He could kiss her and try to fill in his loneliness. He could stand up and be ready to face and fight these unwanted guests to their prison or haven. But there was so much brokenness between himself and Pyra that he couldn't trust himself to make the right decision. "Ho there," came a voice from the treeline, and Finnick finally turned his head to look. A middle-aged blonde man stood a dozen paces away, his beard unkempt and his face showing the hard, weathered look of a man who spent most of his life on the sea. It wasn't a look you missed growing up in District 4. The man looked at the pair of them, rubbing a hand absently across the back of his neck. "Tha's Finnick Odair," came another voice. "An tha young, pretty victor, wha's her name?" "Pyra Elswood," supplied a third voice. "Worked on a ship with that one once, and lemme tell you, I weren't shocked when she won." "Weren they dead?" asked a fourth. "Summone said they was dead, din't they?" "Yeah, blew right up, in't that right?" "They don' exactly look dead, do they?" "Look more like we caught 'em in the midst o' sometin, eh?" "Or right before, eh? Eh? Think they'd let us watch?" "The hell, man, really?" said the first man, who'd been still watching Finnick and Pyra, but who now turned back to look at the others. While all this talk was going on, Finnick got off of Pyra slowly and backed up a few steps, like an animal trying to decide the right time to bolt. He hadn't seen faces that weren't Pyra's in what felt like years - or minutes - and now he was faced with half a dozen unfamiliar familiar faces. But the end of the banter had seemed to flip a switch. "You want to watch?" Finnick asked, and the conversation immediately stopped as the faces turned toward him. "You want to watch?" he asked again, and he felt himself coiling tight, the tension of a spring right before it was released.
WC: 715 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 Jun 4, 2018 22:41:24 GMT -7
Pyra honestly thought that Finnick might just kill her where she laid. She never knew what state either of them were in, and her state of mind was at its worst since the prison. They were both in such a fragile state of mind that neither of them knew if or when the other one was going to have a breakdown. They had each other, which was better than nothing, but it was something that was not always stable. Even as she was limp under him, she watched Finnick. She had no idea what he was going to do next, but she was waiting on him to decide. There were so many options, and yet, he stayed there for a couple seconds until some guests stumbled upon them.
She turned her head, seeing the four men staring at them. They started talking, almost at the same time. One said Finnick's name and another one said her name. Finnick was still pinning her down while the men talked despite the grip being a lot less loose. They were talking about watching, but Pyra didn't really seem to understand. She turned to see Finnick get completely off of her, stepping back a little. For a second, it looked like he was going to run. She kept laying down for a few more seconds, trying to catch her breath. She wanted to fully comprehend what was happening, but everything was so much at once.
Pyra slowly stood up, keeping her eye on the men. They looked normal, but so did most people. They could be there to hurt them or throw them back in prison. They looked so normal, with the roughness of the blonde man's face looking familiar. It was like her father's rugged face, one that she saw every day before the games. She made the connection that these men were probably from District 4, and Finnick and herself might have been closer to District 4 than they originally thought. She was trying to take everything in, trying to think despite everything about her judgement being clouded. It helped that the man's face reminded Pyra of her father, but the world still seemed to be spinning ever too fast. The face almost made her snap back from her meltdown, but everything still seemed jumbled and confused.
The blonde girl was in the middle of Finnick and the group now. She heard Finnick repeat a phrase. You want to watch? By the tone of his voice, she knew things might not end well. Running was probably their best bet. The men might leave them alone. But she knew that the two were going crazy, even now she had to try her best to think through the migraine and confusion she was having. The boat had triggered her senses and she was terrified, but looking at them now, they seemed like people she had been around all of her life. She was extremely far from trusting them, but she had to think.
"Finnick," she said, stumbling her useless self over to him. She stood in front of him, close enough to whisper but far enough to now be touching. "I just...I...How long can we make it out here?" Her voice was small and quiet, out of the earshot of the men. She didn't make eye contact with Finnick, instead looking over to the side. "These...men...might hurt you...and me...but we've been hurting us for a long time now." Her voice sounded exhausted and her words felt all over the place, but the message was there. They were such a danger to each other. The idea of other people gave her so much anxiety and fright, and her meltdown expressed that. But she beat her arm to nothing and her other arm had its shoulder dislocated. She would be useless for another couple of weeks, at least. "What about the winter and the cold and the lack of food and water and what if I try to kill you or you try to kill me and we both end up dead?" She said it in one long run-on sentence. She didn't know what to do or say. "I'll follow you no matter what but I'm so scared of myself and I feel like I always hurt you and I just want to save you." Her voice was small and fast, saying everything quickly as the thoughts just came out from her head to her mouth. She completely ignored the men for the duration that she was talking.
The two of them were crazy, and there was no doubting that. The last thing she wanted was for the two of them to be separated. He was the only thing holding her together. They hadn't had a hot meal in ages nor a warm bed to sleep in. She was injured, maybe even beyond repair. Something could happen and one of them could die, leaving the other one in the wilderness. She didn't want to be alone. That was the one thing that scared her the most. Alone with Finnick was fine, but alone with her mind was the worst fate she could imagine. It was possible that she was selfish for even mentioning anything. Pyra wanted nothing more for Finnick to be safe, but she also wanted to be with him.
WORD COUNT: 895
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 Jun 8, 2018 21:26:49 GMT -7
This was why Finnick needed to be alone - well, alone with Pyra. For what felt like years, he'd either messed up every encounter with another human or been messed up as a result of another human. Now these familiar unfamiliar men were before him, whose intentions he couldn't even guess at, and his mind was a mess. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, preparing for a fight. He'd decided back in the prison that he wouldn't hurt anyone anymore, that he would make up for the pain he'd caused, and yet he felt ready now to cause more. He would protect himself and Pyra. He wouldn't let them be taken. He would fight if they made one wrong move - and probably if they did nothing either. The form of Pyra Elswood suddenly blocked his complete view of the crew. He hadn't really seen her stand up, she was just suddenly there and stumbling toward him. His eyes still tried to focus on the others though, to see them around her even as she stood close and said his name. No one else could be trusted. Hell, neither of them could be trusted either, but at least he knew himself and Pyra to a degree. Knowing that both of them were crazy and could become unhinged at any moment made them more predictable and easy to deal with than these strangers, of whom he couldn't know what to expect. Maybe they'd stopped here because they planned to anyway, or maybe it was because they saw two people where people usually weren't and wanted to help. Or maybe they saw these two former victors as something they could play with, pawns they could turn in to the right people for a reward or maybe play with themselves. Maybe they would spin lies, and even if they told truths, how was he to know? Although he didn't look at her, Pyra's words washed over and through him. He didn't catch all of it, and that didn't matter. He caught the ideas - hurt, survival, death, saving. She wanted to accept them, it seemed, to let them do whatever they wanted because it didn't really matter. They probably would die with just the two of them, that was true. But then they might die at the hands of these others, and that did matter a bit. He didn't want to be trapped again, not for a moment - at least in a physical cage. It was harder to get rid of the mental one. "I don't want to die," Finnick said, his voice low as he continued watching the seamen, "but it's better if you kill me than them. And they can do worse than kill us." The machine. That dark room. The stick Smiles had loved, but which so many others hadn't minded either. His eyes flicked to hers for a moment. "Wouldn't you rather go down fighting?" It wasn't a fully formed thought - he still, despite everything, had no death wish - but if he had to go, that's how he'd want it. His eyes moved back to the others. "We don't mean any harm," the blonde man who had spoken first said, putting his hands up in a sort of surrender. He couldn't have heard their words, but he seemed to catch the gist of them. "My crew, they talk, but it's just talk."Finnick gave a smile that almost, almost looked like the one seen across Panem screens for years - as long as you didn't pay too much attention to the eyes. "Talk can get anyone killed, or didn't you know that?" Give me a reason. Just one.
WC: 604 Tag: Pyra ElswoodNotes: Feel free to take over any NPCs! I also don't know where this is going, so Finnick's just being strange |
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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 Jun 9, 2018 10:31:27 GMT -7
Pyra didn't know what to do. Her brain couldn't think straight. Her thoughts were everywhere, just as they always were. There were a couple things that she knew for sure though: The first was that they only had one pair of clothing that was shared between the both of them, and that right now, neither of them were wearing it. The second was that they were still alive. And the third and last thing was that they were going to die if they didn't get help. She was so hungry, and she knew Finnick was too. They hadn't eaten a decent meal since the prison. There was no doubt in her mind that she still resented anybody that wasn't Finnick. But she was letting her guard down, just for this one moment. It wasn't because she trusted these men, as men in particular were something that she hated the most, and it wasn't that she wanted to go back to civilization. If she could stay in the woods, have a healthy meal, and let it just be her and Finnick for the rest of her life, she would take it. But Pyra was tired. For the past day, month, year, decade--whatever it was, her life had been exhausting. She couldn't imagine how tiring Finnick's life had been since he won the games long before her.
"No Finnick," Pyra said, trying to cover her upper body with her arms even though it hurt. Her voice almost sounded defeated. She kept having to say him name. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. She didn't know why. Maybe that was what grounded her. "I'm just... I'm tired of fighting. We've done nothing else but fight." The last word seemed to drop off her sentence.
The girl's life had always consisted of fighting for something. Fighting to put food on the table for her family. Fighting to train for the games to give her family a better life. Fighting in the games, only to realize she was fighting for the wrong reason. Fighting the hatred she felt for herself. Fighting for the rebellion, even though the rebellion hated them. Fighting to get her only friend free from the prison. Fighting her own mind. Fighting to flee. And now? Fighting to keep Finnick alive. If they went back, she wouldn't get out of the house. She didn't care to see other people. But it would be a safe place, well, safer than the woods. There was no stability where they were, no organization, and maybe that's what made their brains scattered.
"Look, we ain't wantin to fight ya," said the second man that spoke. "We was jus fishin' and saw y'all in the water in the middle of here." "They ain't wantin to fight, ya think?" "Two victors could take us down in a heartbeat." "Tha's the last thing I'm wantin." Pyra could hear chatter in the background, but it was the last thing on her mind. Finnick was about to snap, and she was in front of him. She didn't know what to do to calm him down. Should she keep talking to him? Should she walk away and let Finnick kill these men? It wouldn't be hard for him.
Pyra walked closer to Finnick than she already was. Despite the ache in her arms, she lifted them up, her face showing the pain and displeasure, and wrapped them around Finnick. She needed to hold him, and she did. She held him like she was going to lose him. "We can walk away if you want." Pyra was shaking. Between both of her arms and the lack of both food and clothing, things weren't going so well. She had just had a breakdown, and she needed to grip back to reality. To Finnick. She hated that she wasn't strong enough to fight these men or strong enough to even make a decision. She just needed to be grounded.
WORD COUNT: 654
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 Jun 20, 2018 13:23:35 GMT -7
The girl was right on that. Fighting - it was all he'd known. Well, almost. There had been a time, when he was young, before Career Academy, when he was just a kid that loved the water and loved that old fishing boat his dad took him on. That time was so far away though that it was almost as if it didn't exist. He'd entered the academy, and life had been a battle ever since. First he'd been trying to prove himself, and then he was trying to survive, and then he was trying to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Perhaps the only relief of the prison was that there wasn't really anything to fight, nowhere to go and no one to care. But the fight picked up again as soon as they left that crumbling building. The men went on talking, about not wanting to fight either. They were right to fear him. No, they shouldn't fear him - he was broken. Maybe he could kill them in a heartbeat, and maybe he'd instead be debilitated by some memory or some old pain and forget where he was and what he was doing. Maybe he couldn't even fight properly anymore. So what else was there? If he couldn't fight, it seemed unlikely he could survive and keep Pyra alive out here. If he couldn't fight, going with this crew of strangers could mean he put both of them in even more danger. If he couldn't fight, what was the point? Why go on? Why keep pretending that somehow, somewhere, life would get bearable and he'd have his mind back once again? Maybe Finnick really did want to die - or at least, there was a part of him that did. And then Pyra's arms wrapped around him and he initially stiffened. It seemed out of nowhere, as if she hadn't in fact been standing only a foot away from him already. It was like he'd been drowning, bobbing up every now and then to throw some comment at the seamen or at Pyra, but still being pulled back under in the end, deeper and deeper. Now, though, air pushed into his lungs and there was something solid to hold on to. It shouldn't have felt like something so big - he touched her all the time, and had in fact tackled her just moments before. But the hug and her pleading and her pain and the way her body shook - all of it finally reached him and pulled him toward something. "Fire girl," he said softly, one hand curling around her back and the other settling on her hair, tangled and dirty as it was. His eyes were still on the strangers, but the fire behind his eyes had dimmed. These were sea-hardened men. He couldn't trust them, but he couldn't ignore them either. Some of their like were people he had known, good people, and maybe these people were too. And maybe they were psychopaths sent by an angry Snow to retrieve them. But even if Finnick couldn't really fight, maybe he could still do something to protect the person who had saved his life several times over. "I killed the people in the prison," he started, the words coming easily despite the pain behind them. "They weren't my first, and they probably won't be my last." His mouth felt dry and he swallowed, his speech losing some fire. "But I hope they will be." He really hoped that, even if he wasn't naive enough to believe it. "We need your help," he finally said, his eyes turning to Pyra as he waited for their answer.
WC: 606 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 Aug 1, 2018 12:44:26 GMT -7
Pyra didn't know what was going to happen. Maybe Finnick would knock her out and run away. Maybe the boatmen would take them back to the prison and experiment on them again. There were so many bad possibilities that could happen to her, Finnick, or the both of them. But they had to do something. They weren't functional, and maybe that made them defeated, but Pyra didn't care about winning or losing anymore. There was only being alive and being dead. Her body and mind were broken, possibly beyond compare, but she didn't care about that. She had to protect the man that was her only way to stay sane. Not because she would probably die without him, but because she promised that he would stay alive. She promised that she would protect him. She tried in the prison and failed. Maybe this was her only chance of saving Finnick.
The fisherman, the one that was leading the group, nodded towards Finnick. "Lou, get the fire blanket and have it ready for these two. Tide, make sure that you get these two food and water and whatever supplies they need for the next hour on the ride home. Sandy and I will get 'em on the ship. We're headin' home with these here victors." Pyra heard the man say. She didn't want to let go of Finnick. She heard the shuffling of footsteps away from them, figuring it was the two men that were going to do what the fisherman said.
The two others walked near them. Pyra didn't want to trust them, and her shaking intensified, but she had no choice. They were going to get sick, whether it was from the rain, the lack of food or clean water, or how they didn't have shelter. But as long as they didn't split Finnick apart from her, she would be okay. They would survive. Maybe over time she would become independent again, but it wouldn't be for a long time.
The fishermen put a hand on her shoulder and she jumped slightly. She finally let go and turned around. She looked back at Finnick and started walking, slowly, with the men. Pyra wondered if District 4 was any different. It felt like so long that she had been home. She couldn't tell how long, but she remembered very little about it. It was a place where she lost her family. But it was home. Home was better than in the woods, in the prison, or in any other district. It would be familiar, but it would be completely different.
She hesitantly walked onto the boat. They already had a couple packs of food and water bottles for them. When she sat down, they put a blanket on her. It was still drizzling, but the blanket was better than nothing. She was scared, more than anything, and sat as close as she could to Finnick. She was starting to get warm again, for the first time in a while. She left her clothes in the forest, never wanting to see those uniforms again. Pyra just needed to close her eyes, just for a little bit, and before she realized, she had fallen asleep.
WORD COUNT: 537
TAG: Finnick Odair
NOTES: I can make a new thread if you want! It doesn't matter to me 
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