ψ can't turn back now I'm haunted | CLOSED

[fishermansweater]

WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: Outskirts of the South Village
WHEN: February 4
OPEN TO: Jessica Jones and Marian Hawke
WARNINGS: Probably cursing, references to canon violence

---

It had been a long trek back from the building in the mountains (shrine, other people had called it, though the word had been unfamiliar to Finnick). He'd gotten back fine, and his preparedness for an everyday fishing trip had been very useful for the group: it meant he could start fires, fight foxes, hike through the cold, take his share of the lead during the trek and the watch during the nights. When he'd gotten back, he'd been exhausted, and he'd spent days at home curled up with Annie and Coco, the little crocdog that had adopted them. But the need for food didn't wait for comfort, so now he's back to his morning routine of long treks along the river and out to the lake to check and reset his fish traps.

One of the traps had been broken yesterday, and he'd brought it back to fix it. He'd been finishing it off this morning, so he's a little later on his outward trek than he usually is.

Maybe that's coincidence. Maybe it's not, because as Finnick is approaching the bridge on the edge of the South Village, there's a flash of movement on the edge of his vision. Danger? Approaching villager? Animal? He doesn't see it well enough to tell, but it's enoughto snap his attention to the spot, and see her.

Moana.

His heart lurches. She's been gone for months, or he thought she'd been gone for months, but there she is, dark hair messy and matted, face gaunt, scrubs so torn and dirty it's hard to tell they were once dark blue.

He's seen what the victor looks like when they're plucked from the arena. She looks like that, a tribute who's been in the arena for weeks, barely surviving with little hope of victory. She's half-hidden behind a shrub, but he knows it's her.

"Moana!"

He starts towards her, and the girl turns and darts back into the scrub.

"Moana! It's okay!" He starts off after her, running, bursting into the plant she'd been hiding in only to see her disappearing up ahead. He starts to run after her, but his training kicks in and reminds him how bad an idea that is and he comes to a reluctant stop. He wants to help her. He should help her, but he can't trust what he sees. It could be her, or it could be a trap by the Gamemakers. It could be an illusion. It could be a lot of things, and he shouldn't run into potential danger both blind and alone.

So he slashes a mark into the bark of the tree he'd seen her run past and turns back the direction he'd come.

The first people he sees are both familiar faces, so he doesn't bother with niceties.

"Did you see that? Did you see her?"

Open | Home Fires

[chondrion]

WHO: Betty Ross
WHERE: Near House 40
WHEN: February 3, Late Evening
OPEN TO: OTA!
WARNINGS: None, but will update as needed.

---

There hadn't been any reason to worry, in the end.

Nat's back, of course, but as tired as she is, Betty wouldn't exactly blame her if she hadn't noticed that the house had a few more shelves than when she'd left, and that the kitchen cabinet project they'd been working on was entirely complete - as if her roommate had suddenly found herself with some insomnia to deal with.

Now, it's late and the sun has long since sunk beneath the horizon. The moon is barely a sliver in the sky; there will be a new one tomorrow. Betty's sitting on the porch steps - in the spring they should see about reinforcing them, she thinks. Ginger the cat's slipped outside and is rubbing against Betty's ankles. She's a cat person, so she reaches down to give the cat a quick stroke, even though her eyes are still fixed on the sky.

"You haven't smoked since Harvard, Betty," she mutters. "And you don't even have the means to start it up again now."