this is fuckin' awesome

[ashehole]

Open RP Post


⊛ find a character you want to play with and respond to their thread. can't find who you want? let me know!
⊛ we can make up a scenario, adapt a meme of some sort, or... something else? whatever the fuck we want.
⊛ if you need ideas, the random scenario meme has just about anything you could want.
⊛ wanna do a picture prompt? we can do some picture prompts.
⊛ FUCK YEAH WE'RE TOTALLY ROLEPLAYING RIGHT NOW!!!

Handy-Dandy Quick Links:
Vanessa Cleveland ⊛ Catty Turner ⊛ Finnick Odair ⊛ Belle Beaumont ⊛ Chloe Saunders
Commander Shepard ⊛ Piper McLean ⊛ Jordan Langley ⊛ Jaime Lannister ⊛ Eli Keaton
Sally Malik ⊛ Corey Carling ⊛ Shadow ⊛ Fenris ⊛ Meetra Surik
Revan ⊛ Keiko Nakagawa ⊛ Alyss Heart ⊛ Ava ⊛ James
Percy Jackson ⊛ Frank Zhang ⊛ Helen ⊛ Jason Grace ⊛ David Levin
April O'Neil ⊛ Galen Marek ⊛ Reyna ⊛ Jackson Swift ⊛ Jaime Reyes
Fran Zhang (AU) ⊛ Jasa Grace (AU) ⊛ Piper McLean (AU) ⊛ Gretel ⊛ Sirius Black
Cullen ⊛ Liv Durand ⊛ Maddie Moss ⊛ Daniel Bianchi ⊛ Finley Odair (AU)
Persephone Jackson (AU) ⊛ Derek Hale ⊛ Raleigh Becket ⊛ Allison Argent ⊛ Liam Hunt
Seph McCauley ⊛ Jonah Kinlock ⊛ Edward Kenway ⊛ Aveline de Grandpre ⊛ Gale Hawthone
Will Scarlet ⊛ Korra ⊛ Carswell Thorne ⊛ Scarlet Benoit

Comments

Finnick Odair | The Hunger Games

[insecrets]

Also available in teen flavor: fromthesea.

[kissmyaxe]

Johanna has existed in sort of a numb, robotic haze every since it happened.

She'd expected repercussions. But after winning the Games, she'd thought she could handle them. What more could they do to her, right?

A lot more, as it had turned out.

And so she works her way around the Victory Tour, smiling and laughing and acting appropriately solemn at all the right moments and feeling nothing as she does it. Johanna isn't a person anymore; she's just a Victor, a shell for the Capitol to crawl into and walk around in now that they've taken everything from her.

And then she sees him.

It's a total coincidence, some random hallway in her hotel in the Capitol after the parties are over and she can peel off the mask and be empty outside as well as inside. Finnick Odair slides out of a room that she knows isn't his, because the door isn't covered in desperate fanmail. And, abruptly, she knows. Knows that he accepted the deal where she refused it, knows that he gave in, knows that he is theirs now and a crack in the ice inside her appears. Rage fills her stomach, hot and a enough to make her want to vomit.

"You make me sick," she spits at him, every inch of her bristling in a way she hasn't since President Snow had showed her their cold, dead faces.

[insecrets]

The problem is, Finnick gave in a long time ago. He tried to resist, when he realized that this was part of Snow's design (but for a while, he didn't really understand it, he was just a kid). Resisting hurts people. Resisting means that people who rely on him get hurt, too. It's never been the Games that haunts him; it's been the people who have touched him and the way their hands feel against his naked skin. It's been the way Snow thinks he has the upper hand, tugging at his strings like this is all his design.

Sometimes it still is.

He arches an eyebrow at Johanna Mason, the little girl who sniveled her way through the Games before slamming an axe into anyone who got in her way. It was brutal, but so was his own Games.

There's a slightly lift in the corner of his lips, almost a smile when she says that to him. "Is that so?"

[kissmyaxe]

His reaction only makes it worse; her fists ball up as the crack gapes wider. "You should have died in that arena." Johanna knows how to use her voice, and it escapes the realm of disgust into cruelty now. "How many nights did that trident cost you, Odair? How much fucking is a life worth?"

[insecrets]

His head tilts a bit, and he's glancing her over, wondering what she's been taking tonight. What was slipped to her, what she went to find. "I did exactly what I was supposed to in the arena."

He's about to push past her and let her have her breakdown on her own when she fires out her next two questions. "The trident was a gift," Finnick says softly before he grins at her, licking his lips. It's an act. He has to maintain it, and who is she to question him anyway. A nobody. "That depends on who you're fucking, really."

[kissmyaxe]

Later, she'll never be able to pinpoint what it is that sets her off, exactly. There's just something about him, standing there, the perfect Capital pet. There have been no tragic accidents to make him appear more sympathetic to the masses. He is everything she killed her family to avoid being, and she can't decide if she hates him more, or herself.

Her body moves without thought, muscle memory remembering how it had work in the arena, how to push off, what to aim for. She doesn't have an axe, but they've given her long, sharp nails for the tour and Johanna intends to make use of them as the shell that is left of her gives up the ghost and breaks wide open. She throws herself at Finnick with a wordless snarl. Part of her just wants to make him hurt, punish him for being the proof of what she should have done, what she couldn't do. The other part wonders if he'll just kill her.

[insecrets]

Finnick should have been expecting it. It's not the first time a victor has freaked out; maybe not at him, but in general. He's been doing this for six years, and he should have known not to press an angry victor. He stumbles back from the force of her body, still a little out of it from earlier.

Her nails catch his cheek, and his stylist is really not going to like that. The next guy he has to be with might not like it. Finnick snarls back, grabbing her wrists and pulling her off of him. She might have won through cunning and brute force at the end, but he was a contender from the beginning, and he's never stopped.

He pushes her to the ground face first not really caring about whether it hurts her or not, or the fact that her hair is ruined or her stupid dress. He sits on her back, shifting his weight so that he doesn't crush her at least.

The fact that they're in the middle of the hallway doesn't bother him.

"Don't be an idiot, Johanna."

[kissmyaxe]

It does hurt, and other than that anger, it's the first real thing she's felt since the Games. Panic surges through her after the pain, because Johanna fought so hard to be able to live and she's not ready to give it up yet. Later, she'll realise how stupid it is to think he would have killed her - victor on victor violence is pretty much never acceptable to the precious Capitol - but her instincts have kicked in from the Games. It seems as likely as anything else that has happened to her.

Don't be an idiot, Johanna. The sound of his voice prompts a fresh surge of rage, and her body bucks with a low cry that turns almost into a sob of frustration. She doesn't even know what she wants anymore, doesn't know what she's supposed to do. Being an idiot seems as good a plan as any.

[insecrets]

His weight shifts again, and he's straddling her, pressing his hand down between her shoulder blades. It's a firm touch, meant to keep her in place. She's already acting like a fool on her tour, there's no reason to let her keep going on this way.

He leans down, mouth near her ear. "Calm down. Do you want to draw attention?"

He should leave her here, he should walk away before he's pulled into something he doesn't want to deal with. He has his own people he does this for, people he actually cares about.

[kissmyaxe]

A shudder wracks her body as she leans in, and that is disgust. She doesn't want him on her, near here, doesn't want him touching her, which is probably something she should have thought through before she did this.

She tries one last time to escape, but it's futile. She's trapped. And that opens the floodgates, her body going limp under him as a tear slips down the side of her cheek. Another. A raw laugh spills from her lips, but it's filled with pain as she starts to cry - actually cry, tears she isn't controlling. "What else are they going to do to me?"

[insecrets]

The anger fizzles out of him easily enough once she starts crying. That's always been a strange weakness for him, at least once the Games were over. Little girls crying in an arena have no power over him. There's a moment where he pauses and tries to put that image out of his mind.

She's not fighting back anymore, so he leans up and removes his hand. "You'd be surprised what they could do to you, even when you have nobody. This never stops. Not until you're dead."

There's a bitterness to his tone, an anger he never lets anyone see. But maybe it's the only thing she's going to respond to.

"If I move, are you going to behave yourself?"

[kissmyaxe]

She turns her head as best she can, pressing her face into the ground so he can't see the way she cries. Which is probably the best indication that she's being legit right now; she'd always been so careful to make sure people saw her before. Johanna couldn't manipulate people with her pride.

Maybe that was why she'd made the choice she did. She'd let it all go in the arena, and was desperate to have some of it back. She'd thought she could handle anything.

"They took everyone." Her voice is harsh, inhuman. "They still need me to be in the spotlight. They can't do anything to me, and there's no one left to do anything else to."

She sniffs, a smaller shudder working through her. This one is just excess emotion, though, not disgust. "Get off me." That counts as an answer, doesn't it?

[insecrets]

There's something tugging at Finnick now, and it feels suspiciously like guilt. He doesn't like it, doesn't like feeling this way because someone is crying.

"They can do things to you, and they only need you in the spotlight for so long. There will be another Hunger Games soon, a new victor to exploit." He pauses, brushing his fingers over her hair. It's supposed to be comforting, but Finnick knows exactly how he comes off to people. "You've met the addicts, haven't you? That can be you."

Not helpful, Finnick.

But he does what she says, climbing gracefully to his feet and brushing himself off. All he wanted was to take a shower and huddle in his room until he can leave again. And instead he's dealing with this mess.

[kissmyaxe]

Johanna slams her fist into Finnick's door over and over, less of a knock and more of a punch. She's been playing the crowds all day, pressing her confidence and savagery, and she's just about done. She can bare her teeth in a smirk as much as she likes, but it'll never match the sight of Enobaria's animalistic grin. Maybe there's a select group that has always appreciated her tricks but they're a small group. Johanna has already played her hand.

Good thing she has other plans. But those plans revolve around some slip of a girl who lucked into a love story and a bunch of people who were ready to use her as a symbol.

The point is, Johanna is mad. Really angry, in a way she hasn't been in a long, long time. She could pretend like she doesn't know why she's going to see someone who annoys her most of the time, but she's not in the mood for lying to herself, either.

She needs a friend.

[insecrets]

Finnick already knows who's on the other side of that door. He's put Mags to bed a little bit earlier. She needs the rest, should get as much as possible. Besides, she'd never try to beat the door down like some animal. That's not Mags.

Still, he sits on the edge of his bed, hands clasped together on his knees, head bowed as he listens to her pounding on the door. He doesn't want to bother. He doesn't want to leave this spot. Doesn't want to leave Annie. The idea of the arena doesn't scare him; not accomplishing what he wants does, though.

But the pounding starts to make him wince, and with a soft noise, he heaves himself to his feet. Makes himself walk to the door and opens it.

"Johanna."

[kissmyaxe]

The door opens, finally. But it's no accident that her hand keeps moving, shoving Finnick in the chest before she pushes past him inside.

"What the hell took you so long?" But already her anger has settled down a little. She wraps her arms around herself, hands holding onto the opposite elbow as she scowls at him.

[insecrets]

He stumbles back when she shoves him, spinning around to watch her. She's angry. It's an understatement. She's livid, and scared maybe. Finnick knows her well enough for that.

"I was busy," is what he mutters in response. He watches her for a moment before reaching out and tugging her closer to him.

It's not really for her so much as it is for him.

[kissmyaxe]

"Bullshit," she bites out. "You were curled up like a jackass feeling sorry for yourself." But they're empty words, serving only as a vehicle for her anger. Nothing intended to actually hurt him.

Usually she makes a show of resisting, but she doesn't bother this time. Finnick reaches for her and Johanna is sort of already walking towards him the second she sees his arms moving. She doesn't hug him or anything, but her forehead is pressed to his chest, her breathing low and unsteady.

[insecrets]

His shoulders lift in a shrug, because yeah. She's got it right. He totally was.

There's something unnerving about the way she doesn't resist him, but he's not going to ask questions. He's not going to ruin it. His arms wrap around her tightly, his fingers treading into her hair and clenching tightly as he holds her there.

"I don't have anything to say."

[kissmyaxe]

She snorts. "What, the golden boy lost his silver tongue?" His hand in his hair hurts a little but, but she doesn't care. Barely even notices.

She's silent for so long that it might seem like she's just going to stand there forever, but eventually she shifts a little, turning her head and stepping in again, leaning into him. "I don't need you to speak." She just needs him to be there.

[insecrets]

"Something like that."

There's just nothing to say. No snappy remarks, no witty one-liners. This isn't a game that can be won, not really.

Finnick looks down at her, releasing his grip enough to brush her hair out of her her face. His mouth opens like he's going to say something in response to that, but she's right. He doesn't. His lips brush across her forehead, almost an apology that he can't tell her it'll be okay.

[kissmyaxe]

Johanna feels the touch of his lips on her forehead and her eyes squeeze shut. She knows she has to do this - not even because of the Capitol, but because of the seeds of a revolution that have been sown, a chance to end all of this.

But even with that noble goal, she doesn't want to go back into the Games. She doesn't want to do this, not when the layer of protection she'd built around herself the first time has been so thoroughly stripped from her. She's no innocent little girl now.

She turns her face up, forcing her eyes open again. There's barely anything sexual about it when she presses her mouth to his, more of a desperate plea than anything else. Usually she waits for him to make the first move, all things considered, but she needs this. Needs something.

"Just--" She lets out a shuddering breath against his mouth, and her hands leave her own body, fist in his shirt. "Just let me think about something else, just for a bit."

[insecrets]

Finnick's expecting it, if he's going to be honest. He's expecting the way her mouth feels against his, and that desperation that's filling her body - the way her muscles tense and the awkward way she holds herself. He responds mechanically anyway, despite being ready for it.

There's a rebellion, there's a Game. They're going to die, they might live.

His last night with Annie was spent comforting her. He doesn't mind, because it meant he could protect her one last time.

It's a strange parallel to draw on, but it's similar to the way Johanna feels against him. A different kind of comfort, another type of protection. His hands move to her face, rough fingers moving over skin as his thumbs brush over her cheekbones. For a moment, he thinks about telling her no. Like this is a bad idea, like he can't let his last moment be with her instead.

"Okay," he breathes against her mouth before kissing her hard.

[kissmyaxe]

There's a thin tendril of disgust curling through her at the mechanical way he responds, although whether it's at him or her, she has no idea. Is she any better than them, using him like this?

Honestly, she's not going to examine that one too closely. He whispers okay and she doesn't have to (or is at least going to use it as an excuse not to).

She gives as good as she gets, dragging him closer. He's too good at this, but Johanna really doesn't care about that right now, tugging his lower lip between her teeth, fisting one hand in his hair. Something like heat washes through her, but it's a dim, muted thing, overwhelmed by thoughts of the arena, the screams of the dying, the boom of the canon. She curses against his mouth, pushing closer again like the more of him she gets, the less room there'll be for her past.

[insecrets]

He makes a noise in the back of his throat at the contact of her teeth against his lip, hands dropping from her face immediately. They go to her waist instead, pulling her tighter to him when she pushes. Fingers make their way under the fabric of her shirt to press against her skin.

It's less mechanical now. This is Johanna, after all. Even if she's using him, he doesn't care. In the end, they both kind of need this. This chance to feel somewhat human. Maybe not alive, but human.

His mouth is harsh against hers for a moment, and he doesn't really know if it's because she wants it like that, if he's punishing her or himself, punishing the Capitol for what they've done to them. He walks her back toward the bed without missing a beat. He's good at this, of course he is.