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
|
Post by Pyra Elswood on Aug 2, 2018 12:35:55 GMT -7
The ride on the boat was one of uncertainty. In theory, she was going home. She was going back to the place where she was born and raised. She was going back to the place where all of her things were and where she was titled victor. But she didn't know if she would call it home anymore. There was nobody to see, nobody to go back to. Her things were probably thrown out or taken by the Capitol when she was put in the prison. So to her, it wasn't really home. She sat close to Finnick, and if she had to label anything home, it would be him. Two f*cked up victors in a place that they both called home at one point. She stayed silent the whole way back, thinking of how things were going to change. She didn't know what happened to the Capitol, or with the rebels, or who even won. Maybe, when they got back, she would be executed by the Peacekeepers. Nothing was certain.
The hour back felt like minutes. She was lost in her thoughts, and before she realized it, Pyra saw the fishermen moving to get he anchor down and tie the boat. "Lou, go get the mayor as soon as we're close to dock. We need to find these two a place, a doctor, and an escort team if possible." Pyra didn't move from her spot. She was cozy in the blanket, not wanting to move from her spot. The blonde looked around, seeing bodies move on the horizon and varying factories she recognized. But she felt nothing towards them. She barely looked around enough. She just didn't care.
The man hoped off the boat as the boat rocked more from the waves under them. She gripped onto the blanket, not being used to the rocky boat in a long time. It made her a little motion sick, but she took a couple of deep breaths. The rain had stopped, but the overcast still looked like it was going to rain. They were docking, and she was glad that the ship was high enough that people probably couldn't see their faces. For all they knew, they were the last victors.
Pyra looked at Finnick. She saw how dirty he was, and she probably wasn't any better. She was probably worse since she didn't wash off in the water like he did. She felt like she had ten layers of grime on her, but she had more things to worry about than dirt. "What are you thinking about?" She asked Finnick, knowing he probably had just as many things going on in his head as she did. WORD COUNT: 451 TAG: Finnick Odair NOTES: Slow start, sorry!!
|
|
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
|
Post by Finnick Odair on Oct 11, 2018 20:21:34 GMT -7
Finnick Odair wanted to believe that he had left this messed up version of himself back in the forest with the prison clothes, or even that he'd left enough of it back in the crumbled remains of the prison. He wanted to believe that this boat trip with these familiar strangers would somehow change everything, and that coming home would truly feel like coming home. But it was a surprisingly short trip back to familiar land, and once he spotted the shoreline of District 4 - a sight he hadn't seen from this vantage point in years but nonetheless recognized - he didn't feel like the old Finnick again. He didn't feel miraculously clear-headed or better. Instead, he huddled deeper into his blanket, unsure if he'd be able to leave the ship and even step on that land again. After Finnick had told the seamen that he and Pyra needed their help, they had been helped. Everyone had seemed... well, if not eager, then at least willing to follow the orders of the first man. The ship's captain? He hadn't really caught any names or titles, though the old Finnick would have caught on right away, stowing the information away for potential future use. But he had gone with these helpful men, and so had Pyra, and now they were on the cusp of returning home. Of returning to the familiar. Or at least... of returning to the place where they were born. "Da, have you ever thought of just staying out here? Sailing off somewhere and not coming back?" "Oh sure, Finny, but it's not that easy. It's one thing to run away, but it's another to stay and work with where you are."Finnick blinked. He hadn't thought of his dad in a long time. Work with where you are. It had almost been a motto to the great Finnick Odair since he reached double digits. He didn't really have a motto anymore, unless protect Pyra and try not to kill her and maybe try to keep your head together counted as one. It wasn't very catchy. He was pulled from these thoughts though as the men started to prepare to dock. The flurry of motion seemed to captivate the old victor, who was unused to so much motion after so long in captivity or the singular company of Pyra. Speaking of, Pyra chose those moments to speak. It was the first time either of them had spoken since Finnick said they needed help. "We're two mentally questionable victors about to step back onto the home turf after imprisonment, a big war, and who knows how long in a forest, and you ask me what I'm thinking about?" He raised his eyebrows, then relaxed his face again. "I'm thinking that a lot of people moving around fast is both beautiful and terrifying." Well, that wasn't wrong. Not a useful reply, but not wrong. He looked away from her, down at his hands which he only now realized had taken an edge of the blanket and was untangling a knot he couldn't remember making. He dropped the knot and tried to just let his hands be in his lap. "What do you think our chances are of staying alive for more an than hour once we actually step foot out there?" he asked, tossing his head in the direction of the district. He looked up at her again to see her answer, remembering again that he was grateful to be able to do that instead of wonder at her between the thick walls of their cells. WC: 595 Tag: Pyra ElswoodNotes: Samesies!
|
|
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
|
Post by Pyra Elswood on Oct 17, 2018 15:53:11 GMT -7
Normal was a word that was never going to apply to Pyra's life again. Even though she was back home, things were different. The smell, the feel, the emptiness. It wasn't like before. She shouldn't have been terrified to go back to the only home she had known, but she was. The only person she knew anymore was Finnick, though she knew she would probably never know him fully. She was an absolute mess. Just like her home, she was different too. Though with Pyra Elswood, the things that made the blonde girl who she was were almost foreign. She didn't know what to expect, but after the forest, she had to believe anything was better than there. There was nothing scarier than being alone with her thoughts, and for a majority of the past month, year, or decade, that's exactly what had happened.
The fact that the unpredictable Finnick and Pyra were about to be thrown into society again made her question what she had done. The games had shown that the two of them were capable of murdering other people for their own survival, so what was stopping them now from doing it? Pyra didn't know how to survive in a society anymore. To her, running away was always the easiest answer. Maybe it was the fact that the fisherman reminded her of her father that grounded her or her hunger stepped in when she asked to go back with them. They were both dying out there, but maybe it would've been a better death, away from people and away from trouble. Now, there were thousands of people in District 4 alone. Who was to say that Pyra or Finnick wouldn't be the cause of other people's deaths?
She listened to Finnick. Her fingers were tapping her legs and her right foot was tapping the bottom of the boat. It was obvious she was nervous. If she reacted violently with a simple boat coming her way last time, how was she going to react when there were dozens of people they had to get through? Finnick described it as beautiful and terrifying. He was right after all. There was more than just the company of guards and the company of Finnick. It would be a sight to see again, but it would also be terrifying. Finnick and Pyra were different than the last time they were in District 4. They weren't the bright and shining victors. They were just the opposite.
"I want to say it's likely," she said, discouraged. "We've survived a lot of things, but I'm not so sure now. We don't even know if the war is over or who won." She wasn't looking at Finnick. She was looking towards the city, anxious as ever. "For all we know, we could be executed by Peacekeepers or rebels as soon as we step off this boat." If they had made it this far to only be executed...well, she would rather kill herself. "But no matter what, we have to stay together. They can't separate us. That'll just give us an even less likely chance to survive." She looked at him, moving her non-bruised hand over the hands in his lap. Finnick was the only person she could trust. She didn't know if there was anyone else in District 4 that she even knew well enough.
The fisherman was talking into the radio before he walked over to them. Pyra then turned her attention towards the fisherman. "We need ta get ya movin' before the press finds out. There's an empty victor's village home we can place ya in. It's in good shape and we got some good fisherman that're gonna help out and keep people out for the time bein' while we get you a doctor, food, water, and clothes. We gotta hurry though. Throw the blanket over ya heads and let's get goin'." She looked at Finnick, terrified but trusted him. Who else was she going to trust? She was half naked and she would feel exposed no matter what, but if she was hidden under the fire blanket and close to Finnick, she thought that maybe she would be okay. WORD COUNT: 700 TAG: Finnick Odair
|
|
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
|
Post by Finnick Odair on Dec 29, 2018 16:35:58 GMT -7
Finnick laughed when Pyra said they could be killed by rebels or Peacekeepers when they stepped off the boat, although it was anything but funny. She was right. Regardless of who won, they would probably be killed no matter what if the right people spotted them. The Capitol would want him dead for escaping, for killing Smiles and saying no. The rebels had always wanted him dead - they'd proved that in the District 4 train tunnel. When it was Pyra - no, Elodie - no, that red-haired woman - Annie? - someone was standing over him, laughing at what they'd done to him. What they took. "The only one allowed to kill us is each other," Finnick agreed, a dark joke about the state of both of their minds. He didn't intend them to get separated either, because he felt sure that if he was separated from Pyra, it would be like being separated from the truth. Separated from the thin understanding he had of himself, because she had been there in the prison and at the island. Her current self was the only thing he could trust, even if her past self sometimes got muddled in his mind. When she reached a hand over to his, he looked down. He was hesitant for only a moment before he clasped her hand in both of his, the restlessness in his fingers temporarily soothed by the reassurance there. The head fisherman, captain, whose name Finnick couldn't grasp although he felt like it had been said a few times, came over to them. Again, his words sounded too good to be true. They sounded like a trap, especially the last bit. They could be led anywhere hidden under a blanket, be subject to anything if this crew knew exactly where to find them. Finnick felt his whole body tense, unable for several moments to move as the crew started to flood out onto the deck. But then he remembered Pyra back on their last dry land, the sense of pleading for the sake of their lives. For that, he stood, and keeping a hold of her hand with one of his, put the blanket over the pair of them and stepped off the boat. For many steps, he could only see feet and wooden boards. He took each step with difficulty, using whatever senses he had left to get a feeling for where they were. The boards made way to the shaggy grass that grew at the edge of beach, and he could hear the voices of people that were not the crew they'd come with. Voices with people he couldn't see, doing things he couldn't see. Maybe these people were exchanging looks, making silent deals with the crew escorting them for the lives of the two victors. Maybe they spoke in code and were negotiating some terms. He heard some of the crew greeting these unknown voices. Finnick had never been claustrophobic, never afraid of tight spaces, but now his body started to shiver with his steps as it felt like the world was closing in on him. "I'm going to run, fire girl." Those words were all he could give her before he flung the blanket off of himself and bolted. The words were a testament of his commitment to her though, a few seconds given to her to decide how she would act that his fragile mind wouldn't have given to anyone else. He understood that running in a potentially unfamiliar District 4 was a terrible idea, that it would probably get him killed, but at least it would be on his own terms with his eyes open. He wouldn't get stabbed through a blanket or walked to a new prison. He wanted Pyra to run with him, hoped that she would, but wasn't sure what he'd do if she didn't. Something stupid, probably. The world outside of the blanket was filled with unfamiliar faces, all of which stared at him as he ran. He saw surprise and hunger, felt like they were moving toward him even if they didn't take a step. Pyra was right that they needed help, and that these fishermen were probably the best ones for the job they were likely to find, but he couldn't give himself over to them. Not yet. He just needed to breathe, someplace familiar, somewhere he knew. So he ran toward home. Finnick's legs carried him east along the coastal edge of District 4. The path was familiar, even if the destruction on the streets and occasional ruined building wasn't. He was heading not his home in the victor's village, which he had lived in almost half of his life, but his first home. He hadn't really intended that, but his body carried him that way anyway. His childhood home wasn't so far from the main docks, and so it wasn't so long before he was standing in front of a small home. The door was mostly off of its hinges and some debris littered the yard, but that was newer damage. Maybe from the battle. A teddy bear was on the front steps, another unfamiliar thing, but the thatch roof and wooden plank walls were familiar enough. He walked slowly toward the door but lost his nerve to go inside at the last moment. So, he simply collapsed down against the wall next to the door, leaning his back against it as he fought to catch his breath. WC: 906 Tag: Pyra Elswood
|
|