exsilium | 001

[One of the disadvantages of not coming from a rich district means no fancy technology, and it takes some serious key smashing before the video function comes up, something this lady with uneven, brown hair is not immediately aware of as she pounds on the keys. Eventually she catches a glimpse of herself on the screen and stops. The words 'piece of Capitol crap' are muttered, and audible if you're paying attention.]

Seeing the escorts here are about as useless as they are back home isn't a big surprise, but knowing that their fashion sense is about as awful is a nice constant. [Johanna gives a big smile at that, one with a threatening, subtle anger behind it.] And hey, they give you actual weapons before starting the blood bath.

So, anyone out there in Exsilium-[She taps a fingernail against the screen twice, her amusement fading into a haughty stare.]-have an explanation for what's going on, or is this a delusion I'm going to have to remember to pass on to a shrink later? The faster you start talking, the less likely it is that I'll start collecting scalps.

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[Silence. Then, the tiniest shake of her head.]

No. No, I'm not.

[He swallows. Hard. The smile remains plastered to his face, but it's strained now. He's just trying to keep himself together at this point, but he doesn't know how to feel about that.

Dead. He's dead. Dead, and he's left Annie alone. Annie.

His breath becomes shallow, heavier, as he finally chokes out his wife's name.] Annie?

She's fine. As fine as she ever is, anyway.

[She doesn't say anything for a moment, uncertain if she wants to approach him or not.

Eventually, Johanna does, resting a hand on his shoulder.]

She wasn't there when it happened.

[He almost cries at that news. Annie's fine. Annie's fine and she wasn't there, but she knows, then. He's dead, and she knows he isn't coming back to her.

He knows that he won't go back to her.

Finnick registers the hand on his shoulder briefly, but stands there for a moment, just staring. Finally, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and tugs her close enough for him to embrace her tightly.

She can hit him or stab him, because at this point it probably doesn't even matter anymore.]

[There's no immediate violence, just acceptance as he pulls her into a tight hug that she doesn't return. Instead, she waits a while before resting her chin on his shoulder, the closest to a hug she's likely to give.]

She'll be safe. [I'll make sure of it went unsaid.] No one's going to come after her. Not anymore.

[He knows Johanna well enough to not expect much from her in the way of comfort, but this works for him. He just needs someone who knows the real him, even for a fleeting moment.

He presses his face into her hair. not even caring that he's crying now. Whoops. Sorry for your life, Johanna.]

Thank you.

[Ew, water, ew. She tenses a little, not because of his presence but his tears and the close proximity to her skin. It brings back unwanted memories that are better left buried.

Still, she doesn't pull away. He needs this and he's still the closest thing she'd call to a friend.

It doesn't stop her from pinching his side, just a little.]

You're getting me wet.

[He gives out a soft, choking laugh at her words, almost at odds with his own emotions. This situation was already awkward enough, but it was an impulse far too hilarious to ignore.

His hand reaches down to pat her ass gently.] You get off on grown men crying, Johanna? I'm hardly surprised.

[She immediately wants to take it back the second it's out of her mouth, focusing her disgruntled glare at his ear. He's dumber than she thought, if he thinks he's getting away with that, and punches him hard in the side, trying to disentangle herself.]

You're giving yourself too much credit. There aren't any grown men here.

[His smile is bitter, but it's still on his face as he lets his arms drop, letting her go. Sweeping his hands over his face, he wiped off any remaining tears. This is easier for him, making innuendo.

Finnick isn't ready to ask how.]

More grown than some of the others, at least.

Only you'd find a way to turn that into a compliment.

[Johanna grumbles, side eying him to make sure he's... Well, not okay, but coping. If he can still smile like that, even if it's fake, that's a good sign.]

Any more questions about the future?

[Ones not related to that topic, at least.]

I'm gifted, what can I say.

[He takes a deep breath. No, Johanna. He has to ask questions related to that topic. He can't just ignore that it exists.]

How? When?

[She doesn't want to answer but she can't just ignore him, either. After biting her lower lip in frustration, she eventually caves. He deserves to know.]

The Capitol, with our little rebel. You were attacked by mutts in a sewer.

Mutts. [He just stares at her blankly, before his head bobs up and down slowly as he nods.] Before I arrived in Exsilium... We had just spent a few hours in the sewers. Those of us who were left still, all curled up together.

[A series of emotions flash across his face: anger, pain, distress.] If... When they send us home, I'm going to die.

[There's no response from her at that, letting him sort it out as she watches him. She wants to do something for him but she's at a loss as to what.]

Maybe. [Things could be different, if he knows. But that's not likely, is it?] Probably.

[He nods slowly. The world feels as though it's spinning, and maybe he can't quite catch his breath. What was even keeping him together before? Annie.

He eyes Johanna.] I'm not dead yet. [Hollow words, really. But he doesn't have Annie. What he has is Johanna instead. His anchor.] We should celebrate.

[Fortunately, she's there to steady him again, even if it's just metaphorically. Johanna reaches out, grabs his hand and holds it tight. This isn't for her, after all, he needs this.]

You're starting to sound like Haymitch. [She notes, hoping her calm will help ground him.] I'm not cleaning you up if you get sick.

[He grips her hand tightly, maybe a little too hard, but he doesn't really notice his strength. He's not okay. To be fair, he never has been, but now...]

I don't think Haymitch celebrates. I think he mourns. [Big difference, Johanna. A grin flickers across his face.] Got it.

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