it's a long life. and then it isn't.

“After these last few years, sitting around doing nothing is driving me crazy.” Allison sighed, and turned to face the person she'd addressed. “Do you wanna’ do something? Go for a run, or do some training? I need to keep my body busy.”

“Sure, I’m in for some training. It’s been a while,” he smiled. He’d had to put his training into practise far more than he’d actually trained as of late thanks to the constant wandering mutts in the outskirts, so working in a far less threatening environment sounded appealing. “Anything in particular you’d like to work on? I guess you’ve got the bow down pat.”

“ did you want to be alone? ” jesus

With access to the outskirts restricted, and weapons locked off in the armoury, Allison now had to utilise the training centre if she wanted to practice. Aiming to keep her mind distracted, she signed in for an early morning session, feeling relief as soon as her bow and quiver were back in her possession. But she quickly came to the realisation that she needn't have bothered. As soon as her hand pulled back the bowstring, she lost control of herself, fingers shaking along the elastic. Her aim was unsteady, as were the thoughts in her mind. Jackson, Tony, Gwen's father. All that training, all that planning, and they'd still lost. Finnick and Emily were hospitalised, Johanna was a ghost of former self, a result of her own failures. She couldn't focus. "Come on. Come on." With reluctance, she finally released her grip, grimly watching as the arrow veered past the dummy she'd locked onto, sticking into the back wall instead. She tried again. And again. Every result being the same. "This is pathetic, Allison."

With he and Peeta newly confirmed as the recruitment team, Jesus knew it was imperative he keep in peak physical shape and keep expanding his expertise. You didn't get to be as skilled as him by taking long hiatuses. The war had certainly carved a hole into his training schedule, but he could no longer afford to fall behind, well aware how dangerous the outskirts were. One slip up and they'd be dead. As a very private person, he found the early mornings suited him better — the world was quiet and he could be alone. He was just picking out some rope to start off with when he spotted her.

✁ daryl or jesus

“Hey,” Connor raised a hand in defence, totally understanding the man’s concerns. “I agree. My riches will be for superficial and personal reasons only. I don’t want power, I just want a hot tub. I’ll share it if I have to.” That was a partial lie, but Connor didn’t want to appear a total asshole. “Nothing wrong with wanting something nice for myself after all the shit I’ve dealt with.”

Jesus watched Connor defend himself in interest, eyebrow raising as he listened. He found it incredibly easy to read people off the bat, but determining a long-standing judgement was something he actively worked at. He liked to see people grow, change their mind, even revert — sometimes it made them even more trustworthy. Jesus had challenged the stranger by asking him that, and he’d appreciated the explanation. “Okay. Materialism I can understand. And that hot tub does sound really nice.” He finally smiled, extending a hand. “I’m Paul. Or you can call me Jesus. And before you ask, no, I’m not kidding.”

Connor wasn’t used to people avoiding his flirtation, so that was a first, but he didn’t react to it harshly. Perhaps he just hadn’t been obvious enough, it had been a while since he’d tried anything on. Unfortunately for Connor, one night stands in the middle of a war weren't common practice; not everyone used sex as a coping mechanism, unlike himself.

Jesus remained polite, but raised an eyebrow at the man’s wording. It was an interesting goal to have so soon after a war, that was for sure. “I thought people making it to riches, and everyone else not, was the whole reason we got into this Panem mess, wasn’t it?”

Conner checked out the stranger shamelessly, eyes dragging over the other’s frame. “Sure. But this is the bench that is least covered in ash and rubble. And it’s currently the one with the best view.” 

Jesus frowned at the reply, unsure how some grass and a bunch of screaming kids constituted as a worthwhile view. That was until he met the stranger’s eye again. 

Connor sighed, shifting some papers around in front of him at the bench he was sat at. The world’s justice system may be up in the air right now, but he still wanted to pursue a career in law. “That’s the last time I try to study outdoors when the weather’s nice. All I can hear is screaming children.”

A corner of his mouth lifted at the stranger’s comment as he passed, Paul pausing to glance over at the playing kids.