"Jobs?" Finnick echoes, and he can't help the grin that splits wide across his face. He knows that it's a practical question, and probably one they should have thought of before now.

But the notion of the two of them getting jobs is really quite hilarious from a certain perspective. Their marketable skills are distressingly low -- unless you count having massacred a bunch of kids when they were younger and reaping the rewards of being famous for that. She's got sarcasm down to a perfected art, and he's made a life off of being pretty. Not exactly traits that lend themselves in practical everyday life.

"Going to be the town lumberjack, Jo?" Finnick asks, unable to help himself.