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Finnick kept expecting for the bottom to drop out. It was hard to believe that this wasn't a charade. He'd seen plenty of devious plans hatched and carried out in the Capitol, and there were certainly many that had this sort of longevity and creativity. But this lacked a certain level of cruelty that he had always been able to taste before. If it had been an arena, the need for blood would have won out long ago. No, this was something else. Maybe it was safety. Finnick wasn't ready to believe that yet.

Still, he had decided to lower his guard a little. It helped marginally that both Johanna and Katniss were here; if something was going to happen to him, it was going to happen to all three of them, and if there were any other Victors he wanted at his side, it was the two of them.

As it was, there was little else he could do. If the Capitol was playing a trick, they were holding out the cards. So, Finnick decided to enjoy the hotel. It was nice enough. Certainly on par with some of the nicer ones in the Capitol, although perhaps lacking the gaudier decorations.

He liked being out in the gardens, because he rarely saw anything resembled nature in the Capitol. But, without a doubt, his favorite area was the pool. There still was something unnatural about swimming indoors, but it was calming all the same to do lap after lap and just hear the quiet of the building surrounding him.

That's where he was at the moment, stripped to just his skin except for Annie's necklace, which was still tied securely about his neck. He treaded water for a moment before launching himself forward, heading back toward the shallow end of the pool again.

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Felicity was about halfway through her mapping program. She'd pretty well finished the public areas of the hotel itself and was just starting the bigger areas in her attempt to get some sort of lock on the weirdness she'd been calling home for a month now. With an ancient laptop, now completely rewired with more recent tech under the hood, she walked the perimeter of the pool area, getting the room's layout as well as size, muttering to herself as she did so and completely unaware that she wasn't alone.

The Nexus pool was a pleasant novelty for April. Back home, her options were generally limited to the sewers down in the lair or the equally-unappetizing, ostensibly urine-filled water at the YMCA. For someone who spent the better part of her days concerned with giant, anthropomorphic turtles, she really didn't take the time to swim nearly enough.

Fluffy towel hung over one freckled arm, tugging absently at the band of her yellow bikini, she padded barefoot into the chlorine-scented room and then froze, blue eyes gone wide. For an uncomfortably long moment she stared, and then jerked her gaze forcibly away to a suddenly-fascinating crack in the tile.

Should she abort? Should she randomly mention the wide array of swim trunks available in the hotel shop? Should she politely offer her towel?

"Um," she settled on, and winced.

Funnily enough, of all the surprises Gwen had come to expect from this hotel, random naked guy in the public pool hadn't been one of them.

"Whoa! Oh- Okay, that's just-" she blurted from her place at the pool's edge, swathed in a towel and one hand held up as a censor bar, obscuring the lovely tanned bottom she'd already gotten a good look at. "Hey… yeah. That water's clear there, in case you didn't know. Didn't really plan on viewing anybody's junk today."

Johanna's been staying away from doors. It's not that she's scared of them, but she's building herself up a good stash of weapons and intelligence for when she does go back. There's no reason to let the Capitol hold all the cards and if that means soaking up this strange luxury for a little while longer, then she's more than happy to do it.

She's not surprised to find Finnick in the pool, given that she tends to stay near the woods out of the sense of familiarity it gives her. Raising her brow when she sees his lack of clothing (something she's never really shied from or blushed at), she takes a chaise for herself at the end of the length, stretching out as though a queen surveying her kingdom and waiting for Finnick to surface.

"Pity. If you were being watched right now, we'd probably be swimming in gifts," she says.

It takes only a glimpse of the figure on the chaise as he's swimming to figure out who it is. Johanna. He's a little surprised to see her down here, but the truth is that he still feels a bit better whenever he sees her here. Maybe because she's the only person he knows -- well, as well as one can know Johanna Mason, he figures. But it might be because that she works similarly to him; she perceives this place as a threat in the same that he does.

Finnick lazily finishes the lap and heads toward the edge of the pool near her. He pushes his arms against he side, legs still moving back and forth, keeping him bobbing in the water. He can't help but grin when she comments. (It's his Capitol grin, the one that doesn't really mean anything.)

"Water is so much more enjoyable to swim in, though," Finnick answers immediately.

Finnick paused in the middle of the pool when he heard a female voice from near the edge. He hadn't known if he should have expected company, but it was amusing to listen to her prattle on; he had obviously caught her off-guard. He couldn't help but reflexively grin when he finally sorted out what she was trying to say.

He wasn't really used to people being uncomfortable when he was naked -- and maybe it was childish, but he had to admit that he had found it ridiculously amusing. There was something quaint about it. Novel. (And he knew his perspective was maybe just a tiny bit skewed because he'd been practically paraded around naked since the age of 14, but there you were.)

"Sounded like a boring day then," Finnick returned easily.

Edited 2014-01-10 04:54 (UTC)

Finnick surfaced near the edge of the pool just in time to watch a woman walk past. He almost instantly zeroed in on the strange that she was carrying. It looked a bit like some of the odd technology that flooded the upper levels of the Capitol -- strange stuff that they had never let near the districts. And maybe that was why he felt a bit wary when he saw it even though she didn't look Capitol -- at all.

"You better watch your footing," he said from where he bobbed at the edge of the pool as she neared where he had left his clothing and a towel. He said it with his usual charm, a wide smile tacked on; it was a lie to what he was really feeling at the moment -- which was wary.

He didn't really think that she was a threat, so to say, but the thing in her hands certainly was a reminder that he needed to keep on guard and that he didn't understand the place he was, and that was dangerous. Nothing agitated him more than not knowing what he was getting into.

"What?" Felicity started a bit when she heard someone speaking - not uncommon when tech was occupying her mind. She played back what he'd said and nodded. "Right. Water and tech don't mix unless you're looking for a really bad perm. Which I'm not."

That was when she raised her head to see who was speaking and nearly dropped the laptop. "Wow. Okay. Another chest to get used to."

"Don't smile at me like that, it makes me feel dirty," she says coolly, without much reaction or indignation. She's got her own affects that she plays, but she likes to think she doesn't need to use them on him. Unfortunately, they're fairly useless in the Games, too, seeing as once she let the facade fade away, everyone saw the truth of her. That said, she does feel a bit of an edge of jealousy that he can give himself over so much.

She doesn't ask if he wants company. He's getting it, regardless of want and whim. She shifts forward, the motion shifting her body language from languid and relaxed to tense and calculated as she rests her forearms over her knees. "So, Charming, found any interesting secrets yet?"

There are precious few people who call him out on anything he does; the Capitol never realizes when he's pretending. They take him at face value, love him for it. And at home, they all want to readily ignore what he is when he's at the Capitol. Johanna is one of the rare few people who sees the transition periods, and who calls him on his bullshit.

Most people would probably take offense to Johanna calling them out like that, the litany of insults. But Finnick accepts it for its novelty. Appreciates it, even.

"Most of the woman here are intimidated by nudity," Finnick responds, a teasing edge to his voice. It's a strange difference from the world of the Capitol. And not a real secret at all. But in the time he's been here, he hasn't been able to sort out anything helpful about where they are. It doesn't sound like she has either; although, he wouldn't put it above to her figure something crucial out and just not tell him.

She actually almost laughs at that, a high-pitched derisive little thing. Nudity is a weapon that can be used against people unused to the shock of it and she's always been pleased to wield it in her favor. "I doubt they've ever seen a naked body so well put together as yours. Not a compliment," she assures him sharply. "It's fact that you put the effort into it. We all do, don't we? Appearances," she says icily. "are the difference between life and death."

Finnick couldn't help but smile when it took her a few seconds to catch up with everything he'd said. There was something refreshingly genuine about it, he supposed. And not exactly what he'd expect from someone who had access to the higher levels of technology. It must be different here, he surmised. More accessible, perhaps.

He openly laughed when she made the comment about his chest. He looked reflexively down at it, as if he had never seen it before. This, at least, he was more accustomed to.

"Anything I can do help you get used to it?" Finnick asked flirtatiously.

Finnick surfaced near one edge of the pillow only to find himself a few feet away from a girl he didn't recognize, who looked a bit, well, uncomfortable he supposed. He hadn't been certain if there were going to be many people passing through the pool. He had thought not since there weren't any people down here when he came -- but clearly she stood as proof to the contrary.

"Can I help you?" he asked with a flirtatious grin when she seemed to be at a loss for words.

He suspected that it had something to do with his relative state of nudity, but he wasn't ever shy when it came to his body.

"I'll take it as a compliment anyway," Finnick answers immediately, smiling at her again -- he doesn't care if it irritates her, because if she wants to do anything about it, she has to come in the pool after him. He'll take his chances.

Besides, only part of what she says is true. He certainly hadn't put any care into his appearance before he went into the Hunger Games. It wasn't like his prime strategy when he was reaped was to charm everyone. It had just been who he was, paired with natural good looks; he might be more polished now, but there's not denying that he started off naturally good-looking. And to be fair, even now he doesn't put that much effort into his appearance. It's everyone else who does. It's his team of stylist who work to make him look effortlessly polished but not plastic, to get as little clothes on him as humanly possible.

But appearances being the difference between life and death is an absolute rule -- at least for the two of them. There are plenty of Hunger Games that are won by weird instances -- BeeTee's, Haymitch's. But most of them are won like his and Johanna's. The play a role. The Capitol loves them for that role. That's how Katniss' and Peeta's were won too, wasn't it? They wanted to bring home a pair of star-crossed lovers, so they did.

"You found anything out?" Finnick asks Johanna in return.

"No," Felicity replied, not rising to the flirt. "I'm mostly immune thanks to my boss using one of my offices as his personal gym and I've seen better. I mean, not that yours isn't impressive or anything. It is. Very. And I'm sure you work hard at keeping it like that, too."

She blew out a breath. "I should just not speak."

"There aren't enough weapons," she replies, inching forward so she can hush her words as best as she can. "I've started to sneak one or two away from places they might not notice, the kitchen, the stables, the housekeeping rooms, but funny enough, I can't find us an axe, a trident, or a bow." Said like that, it sounds as if she's pitching some strange and fantastical combination of items. "And the doors don't always lead where you expect."

She'd figured that out by opening a door and getting a frosty face of snow in greeting. "No one's tried to kill me, though, and they haven't seemed to notice that I'm squatting in a room. The lap of luxury," she notes condescendingly.

She's eased close enough now that she can arc her foot down and splash him with the water, an intent to try and rile him continuously ongoing. "I could get used to it."

It's not a surprise in the slightest to hear that she's been hoarding weapons. It's a reflex, he thinks, for most of them. Especially when they went up in an unfamiliar place after winning. They need the tactical advantages, to defend themselves against unseen enemies. Admittedly, it's an itch in his own mind even now, to know that he doesn't have a good weapon here.

"I haven't tried any of the doors yet," Finnick admits. He's heard a bit about the strange doors, but he hasn't committed himself to any yet. Maybe because it's nice to develop a solid knowledge of this one, but also because they're unpredictable, and Finnick doesn't enjoy walking into situations where he doesn't have the upperhand.

"Could you?" Finnick asks innocently, but he does mean the question seriously, if only because he's surprised to hear the concept coming from Johanna.

The water hits him squarely in the face and Finnick blinks a few times, letting it drip down the bridge of his nose. He grins up at her, because, really, she should know better than that. He bobs a few times, gaining as much as momentum as he could, before pushing himself upward, grabbing at her knees in order to drag her into the water.

It's dangerous, what he's doing, but it's almost funny how it strikes her as a playful kind of fighting, two murderers splashing around in the pool. She still doesn't let it go unpunished, driving her knee against him in the water, but combined with his skills and the crush of water slowing her, it does barely anything.

She finds her footing, watching how the water weighs down the fabric of her clothes, watching as they sop disgustingly. She gives a disgusted sound and strips every item, flinging them onto the deck with quickness until she's got nothing left. She doesn't mind the long walk back to her room, but she's still pissed he's inconvenienced her. "One leads to a flashy little city of lights and sound," she says. "I could get used to that, too."

The truth is, she could get used to anything outside of Snow's thumb.

Katniss still doesn't trust the hotel but since the only door that opens for her is one that goes back into the Arena, she spends most of her days wondering if she should stick with the devil she knows or the potential safety of this place. It changes from day to day, which she wants and today she is contemplating the door again. She needs to find Peeta. She needs to make sure he's alive to take care of her sister and her mother and even Gale.

Restless feet bring her to explore the other rooms in the hotel and she isn't terribly surprised to find Finnick in the pool. He's from District 4 and he practically grew up with fins surgically attached to his feet.

"You know, the sponsors must really not exist. You would be covered in gifts by now if they did...nothing but silver parachutes as far as the eye could see."

Katniss has never received gifts just to receive them - Haymitch always sends a message with his.

Edited 2014-01-16 17:46 (UTC)

Finnick can just see the blurry outline of the Girl on Fire before he breaks through the surface of the water and is left staring up at Katniss. He still doesn't know exactly what to make of her; more of his knowledge of her is still based on what he's seen on television and whatever secondhand information has been passed down to him, rather than the minutes he spent with during training and their arrival here. He's glad she's here, if only because she's safe, but he still can't help but trust Joahnna a bit more. He and Jo have history, at the very least.

He smiles reflexively, an instinct he doesn't bother fighting; it's the smile that would make Johanna claim she feels dirty.

"How do you think I won my Games, darling?" he asks -- a lie, but one that most people would find amusing; he's sure that she won't. Sure, he had a hell of a lot of sponsors, but all the sponsors in the world wouldn't have taught him how to fight with a trident, how to find water. That was Mags, a lifetime ago, teaching him how to survive.

"Water's fine if you want to come on in," he invites with a tilt of his head, suspecting that there's no way he's going to get Katniss to strip down and take a swim with him.

Finnick feigns injury when she drives her knee in against him, a blow that would have had more substance if they had been on land; he dreads ever having take a serious injury from her -- because she could certainly do it. (Even though there had been plans for them to be allies in the Arena for the Quarter Quell, he'd had nightmares for a bit about her killing him. He'd woken up in a cold sweat on more than one night with the image of an axe being thrust into his stomach seared onto the inside of his eyelids.)

He pushes back from the wall a little once she starts to strip down, giving her some space. She's probably the one that uses nudity as a better weapon that he does.

"A city?" Finnick smiles as she talks. "Not what I would expect from you, Jo."

"You've seen better?" Finnick echoed, a laugh bursting from him before he could really even consider stopping himself. He didn't really describe himself as vain, although he was certain that everyone else would. But he had been told how good-looking he was since he was 14. He was fairly certain that was the first time anybody had ever told him that they had "seen better."

"No, keep talking," Finnick pressed good-naturedly, swimming to the lip of the pool near where she was standing. "I'm Finnick Odair," he said, figuring it was about time to introduce himself.

"It's not district seven, I'll give you that," she admits, sinking down into the water when she's rid of the rest of her clothing. "It doesn't look like anything the Capitol could ever come up with," she finally gives the real reason. "This still reminds me of that place, but there are other things out there and I think if we play this right, we have a chance to get free, District Thirteen or not." She keeps her space, about an arm's distance, just in case something happens and Finnick decides to turn.

There are a lot of people back in Panem that the others will want to grab. They can worry about them all they like. Johanna's ready to leave at any moment. "We can go and get her." Actually, she might help with that. So sue her, she might feel a bit of kinmanship with a victor who went nuts after surviving the games.

Nope. That's a lie. Still, keeping Finnick happy keeps her allied and that matters more.

"You might be the only person ever to not think me zipping it is the best course of action," Felicity replied with a good natured shrug, "but I suppose you'll learn eventually. Probably when I end up saying something really inappropriate about your abs. More inappropriate than I already have, I mean."

There was something else she was supposed to say. She played what he'd said back and nodded. "Felicity Smoak, Finnick. Nice to meet you."

"Oh?" Finnick answered, still continuing to smile; no, she wasn't anything like the Capitol, technology aside. He'd never seen anybody so flustered at the sight of his chest before. It was flattering, in an odd, honest sort of way.

"Please continue; say something inappropriate about abs," Finnick drawled. In truth, it was refreshing to be around people and not hate them, to not dread being in their company. He was still a little wary about this hotel. He knew it could turn out to be a trick, but some part of him just desperately wanted to relax and let his guard down.

"Nice to meet you, Felicity," Finnick returned.

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