Finnick Odair (
65th_victor) wrote in
all_inclusive2014-09-02 03:35 pm
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He'd been careful. He'd been really careful, because the last thing he wanted to do was go back into the arena.
But maybe he'd gotten complacent since the last door that had been special had been weeks ago, resulting in him being a girl for a couple of days. But since then, there'd been nothing. So maybe he hadn't been as diligent about watching where he was going, and maybe he'd been more than a little tired because Tristan hadn't slept well the night before and Finnick had been up with him for most of the night, trying to calm his son back down.
When Finnick did look up and found himself looking out into the jungle instead of into his room at the Nexus, he took a step back, his heart stuttering in his chest. Reflexively, he looked down: He was wearing the wetsuit he'd arrived at the hotel in.
He was back in the 75th Games.
"No, no," Finnick said out loud before he could stop himself. He turned around, desperately looking for the door that had led him in. He had to get back out. He couldn't be here. He couldn't be back here.
His brain suddenly snagged on a horrific thought: What if this wasn't a door at all? What if he had been sent back. It was something he couldn't even begin to fathom. It meant losing Annie and Tristan, and that was something he couldn't contend with.
The arena provided suitable distraction though: the sound of a cannon booming in the distance jolted Finnick back to the present. Door or home, he needed to stay alive. Weapon and water, Finnick thought, years of training fall back into place. The cornucopia was still in the middle of the arena, looking strangely deserted. He ran hastily across the beach and headed out into the water. He swam as fast as he could, reaching the cornucopia where a trident still sat, gleaming. He wrapped his hands around it -- just as he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, brandishing the trident in front of him.
But maybe he'd gotten complacent since the last door that had been special had been weeks ago, resulting in him being a girl for a couple of days. But since then, there'd been nothing. So maybe he hadn't been as diligent about watching where he was going, and maybe he'd been more than a little tired because Tristan hadn't slept well the night before and Finnick had been up with him for most of the night, trying to calm his son back down.
When Finnick did look up and found himself looking out into the jungle instead of into his room at the Nexus, he took a step back, his heart stuttering in his chest. Reflexively, he looked down: He was wearing the wetsuit he'd arrived at the hotel in.
He was back in the 75th Games.
"No, no," Finnick said out loud before he could stop himself. He turned around, desperately looking for the door that had led him in. He had to get back out. He couldn't be here. He couldn't be back here.
His brain suddenly snagged on a horrific thought: What if this wasn't a door at all? What if he had been sent back. It was something he couldn't even begin to fathom. It meant losing Annie and Tristan, and that was something he couldn't contend with.
The arena provided suitable distraction though: the sound of a cannon booming in the distance jolted Finnick back to the present. Door or home, he needed to stay alive. Weapon and water, Finnick thought, years of training fall back into place. The cornucopia was still in the middle of the arena, looking strangely deserted. He ran hastily across the beach and headed out into the water. He swam as fast as he could, reaching the cornucopia where a trident still sat, gleaming. He wrapped his hands around it -- just as he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, brandishing the trident in front of him.
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He shook his head at Finnick's question. "Not so far, but we need to stay close to the beach." He'd explain the horrors of this arena to Finnick as it became necessary. He didn't want to overwhelm him with too much information.
"We'll find a way back." To the hotel, to Katniss, to Annie and to Finnick's baby.
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He didn't acknowledge the last part just yet. He had to make his mind think in singular steps. Get to the beach for now. He always had an overall goal, but the motivations for those goals, for each step, would drown him. He couldn't think about Annie, Tristan, about what would happen if they didn't find their way back.
So, instead, he stepped forward again, scanned the surrounding area. He still didn't see anyone. Now seemed as good a time as any to make for the beach.
"Ready?" he tossed over his shoulder at Peeta.
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All Peeta could think about was Katniss, about getting back to her. He'd drag Finnick with him because he knew that Annie and Tristan needed him.
"Right behind you," Peeta assured him. He stayed a few feet behind Finnick, following along the ledge that ran between the 'pieces' of the clock. He could swim now (Katniss had taught him recently) but he wasn't good enough to keep up with Finnick. He knew that.
Once they got to the beach and established a base of sort, Peeta would explain the clock to him, the horrors that happened in each piece and how the beach was safe, exposed but safe.
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He kept in tune with everything around them, his hand maintaining a tight grip around the trident.
But they reached the beach without issue. As soon as they were, Finnick turned, taking in the rest of what he could see of the arena. Mostly jungle, little to indicate what was lurking in the trees.
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Peeta follows, staying a few feet from Finnick. Once they reach the beach, he has a look around as well. In this case, Finnick isn't wrong about the water being safer than the rest of the arena. Once Finnick has had a chance to look around, Peeta starts to explain what he knows, starting off with:
"It's a clock. I know you can't really see it from up here, but the traps are all divided into sections."
He'll go on to explain what he knows of each section and how the gamemakers can scramble it all.