WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: The woods, by the fields, and the Inn
WHEN: June 6
OPEN TO: EVERYONE
WARNINGS: None so far but always the chance of Panem-related asshattery

THE WOODS

OTA

He thinks they're dandelions. At least, they look like dandelions. But for all his training, edible-plants was never Finnick's strongest point. Fishing, hunting, improvising nets and ropes out of whatever he could find around him, those were the skills that got him through the arena of the 65th Hunger Games. So when he finds that a spot in the woods near one of his fishing traps has, in the space of a few days, erupted into a carpet of fluffy white balls that burst seeds into the air as he walks through them, Finnick's immediate response is uncertainty.

He crouches down by one of the plants and peers at its leaves. Dandelions, he knows, are safe to eat. He's seen tributes eat them in the arena. But he isn't sure if these are actually dandelions or just some other plant that acts like them, and he can't remember as he studies the leaves whether or not that's what dandelion leaves look like. if they were dandelions, shouldn't there have been flowers? Or at least, flowers for longer than the time it's been since Finnick last walked through this spot?

Maybe someone in the village will know. Maybe Katniss will know, since somehow she seems to know a lot more about how to survive in the wild than any tribute from her District he's ever seen. (There's a story there, somewhere, but it's a story that nobody would expect anyone else to share, at least not someone who's spent as long under the Capitol's surveillance as Finnick.)

So Finnick gathers a collection of leaves from the plants, and tries his best to collect one of the fluffy heads without it bursting into the air, and puts them in one of the woven baskets he and Annie use for transporting fish.

THE FIELDS

OTA

Finnick plans to stop by the fields on his way home, with the vague thought that there might be someone there who's able to help him work out what the plant he's found is. But as he cuts across from the woods towards the fields, Finnick's suddenly overcome by the smell of salt on the breeze, the tangy smell of the sea that means home.

He stops, uncertain, and raises his trident, his body suddenly tense, the alertness that's always running under the surface suddenly springing to the surface. It's impossible that he's smelling the ocean here; surely it can only be some sort of trap.

He waits, only sign of movement the rapid rate at his his gaze goes from one spot to another, scanning trees, shrubs, anything that could act as cover. It's only slowly that he realizes there's no real apparent danger, and heads towards the smell.

THE INN

OTA

The smell of the sea had turned out to be coming from another unexpected spring blossoming, this time an expanse of purple flowers on the boundary of the fields. He doesn't remember seeing wildflowers there before now, and now there are so many of them that they look like a field of their own. Since he already has a sample of uncertain flora in his pack, he'd picked some of these flowers, too, and he heads for the Inn with his samples in his backpack.

He stalks into the main room of the Inn, because it's one of the places it's common to see a lot of the villagers gathered. He has one of the purple flowers in his hand, and he holds it out, his head tilted to one side, as he leans on the never-stocked bar.

"Is it me, or are there more plants around than there should be?"

[ We're playing with Fluffpods and Forget Me Nots! Check them out on the Flora list for more information about them. ]

Threaded | Flat

Benedict is currently on his knees behind the bar, sweeping cobwebs out of hidden corners. He glances up when Finnick brandishes a stem of purple flowers at him from overhead, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.

"I am probably the worst qualified person to ask that," he points out mildly, sitting back on his heels and tossing his head to get his hair out of his face.

The motion brings a waft of scent to him, and he freezes, his golden eyes growing wide. Perhaps faster than it is wise to move around the people of this habble who all seem to have some sort of trauma they are working through, he reaches up to grab the flower in Finnick's hand, holding it still so he can lean closer and smell it properly.

"Where did you find this? Why does it smell like cordite?"

Katniss has always felt more at home in the woods than anywhere else and it holds true here in this new district as much as it ever had back in 12. She's found a bow and some arrows at the Inn and taken them out to see if she can find something to hunt that looks like deer, groosling or anything else from the world she knows. If she has a purpose, she can survive, and providing for others is a purpose she's had since she was eleven years old.

She is a little surprised to find Finnick in the woods. He's so strongly associated with the sea for her that in this place, she imagines he'd almost always be at the river or down at the lake. He's in the deep, shady cover of the trees now currently and seems to be gathering plants.

"What's that?" she asks, looking at the small flower in his hand. It looks like a dandelion about to burst its seeds and explode on the wind, something she's more than familiar with from 12. "They have dandelions here?"

He recognizes that stance in Finnick. He could remember the times that he had seen it in the arena, each time there was a perceived threat or a sudden attack. Instinctively, Peeta braces himself, ready to raise his hands to defend himself against the trident. It was strange to see Finnick go from calm to sudden tension, as though he sensed something.

Peeta was careful to approach, keeping a bit of a distance between them in case things went south very quickly. Despite the memories he has of Finnick, he has to remind himself that it isn't shared. For some reason, there was a difference in memories among all the Victors, something that he couldn't explain and wasn't sure he'd ever wrap his mind around.

"Are you allright?" He asked, raising his hands to show he was unarmed. There were no canons here and no images to cast in the sky to show who had died or not. If he was attacked, Katniss wouldn't know. "Finnick?"

Beverly has been thinking the same thing as Finnick lately. Not one to pick or disturb unknown plants without proper observance, at least not here without a good tricorder, she's taken to making mental notes more than anything else, hoping that over time she'll be able to figure things out about them without risking anything. But given that Finnick comes wandering in while she's perusing the food stores, she glances up at him with interest.

"It does seem that way," she agrees. "What have you got there?"

In the middle of setting out a stack of plates for the upcoming meal, Mulcahy is taken by surprise by Finnick popping up out of seemingly nowhere and, of all things, toting plants. He's learned that Finnick has a sharper mind than the younger man realizes, but plants were never something he'd been truly interested in, to the father's knowledge.

"I was under the impression, myself, that we still didn't know enough about what makes things common here to truly make that distinction. For all we know, the plants from wherever this is don't grow in certain areas when they first bloom, or perhaps they require more sunlight than is available at earlier times in the year."

Still, whatever the reason, Finnick was probably right, now that he thought about it. There did seem to be more foliage around now than there had been even two weeks ago, and he moves over to see exactly what Finnick's carrying.

The question comes as something of a surprise. He's no botanist, that's for certain, but neither is there any denying that for all that this looks like the village they're used to there's no guarantee that it is. In fact, in light of the nature of their arrival here, he rather suspects that it isn't. What it is is another question, but he's certainly allowing the possibility that this is every bit the alien planet that it seems to be.

"I'm not certain about should. For all we know this could be normal, here. But there does seem to be more of a variety, at least."

Which is another point in favor of it being another planet, by his way of thinking.

Kate isn't looking at Odair; at least, not at first. No, she's staring at the fields and frowning. There are too many weeds. She knows weeds, she knows fields. Oh, nothing as fertile as this place has proved to be, but she's had to clear fields and she's had to keep them clear, and then she'd helped clear these fields. At least, the fields in the mirror village, and she's been here (or there) for summer. And there's been nothing like this profusion of weeds.

And they are weeds. Dandelions and little violet-blue, all over the place. They need to be pulled up, weeded out, but for the moment, Kate has her hands on her hips and is glaring at the fields.

At least, until movement and stillness out of the corner of her eye attracts her attention. Turning, she sees Odair looking puzzled and on the trail of something.

"Odair!" she calls out. "How goes your day?"

THE WOODS

THE FIELDS

THE INN

the inn

the woods

The Fields

inn

Inn

the inn

The Fields