𝕱𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝕺𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

( jannik schümann | twenty-one | cis man | he / him ) oh darling, did you see? that’s finnick odair, a victor from district four! they won the 65th hunger games at just fourteen years old, i remember it being quite the event. i did see on their latest magazine article that they’re charming, enigmatic, and calculating, and that they are mentoring this year. honestly, they remind me of sitting in warm sand as you watch the sun fall behind the horizon, the deceptive invitation of seemingly calm waves hiding a current waiting to pull you under, something out of an old-world text about gods and monsters where beauty and power go hand in hand, the hushed secret whispers no one would risk sharing alone that somehow flow like water when his hands are on your body. what the public doesn’t know is that they’re a part of plutarch heavensbee’s rebellion, but such things can’t be said out loud.

if he was tired there was no way of knowing it simply by looking at him — finnick's prep team had done a perfect job of hiding the dark circles under his eyes, thankfully they'd mastered that art not long after he won his games. the bruises on his knuckles and arms were long gone, leaving no trace of the hours he'd spent up with isla and neptune gauging their skills first hand. they had been a hit with the crowd, neptune especially, and after watching them during their first day of training he knew there was a solid chance one of them would be making it home when all was said and done as long as he held up his side of the arrangement — which was half the reason he was here instead of watching training again. finding sponsors was easy enough, but finding ones with deep pockets? he'd always found it was better to start early. he imagined someone would eventually notice he never really drank whatever it was he ordered, though he doubted anyone would say much even if they did. still he kept the glass in hand as he wandered through the room to find himself a seat at a table in the back for a moment of quiet — three hours of flirting and talking up his tributes on top of the lack of sleep was nearly enough to convince him to retreat upstairs where the capitolites couldn't easily follow, but he could settle for a few minutes in the company of a familiar face instead. "you'd think at least some of them would get tired of all this eventually."