Ten Forward -- OTA

[fishermansweater]

Plenty of people have, by now, seen Finnick tying knots with either the rope Katniss and Guinan gave him or the hair ribbon that was a gift from Sinthia. On his bad days, that's still what he does: find a quiet spot somewhere and sit and tie knots, his whole being focused on the length of rope in his hand.

Today, he's also tying knots, but this isn't like that. Today, Finnick's sitting at a table that's scattered with gleaming golden things. One of them looks like it might be some sort of circlet or headpiece made of complicated knots. Others look like little figures: a turtle, a dragonfly, lots of different little flowers.

He's got a chair pulled out next to him, a skein of golden thread wound around its back, and he's cut a length off it that he's concentrating on weaving in and out and around. When it's done, though, he still doesn't look entirely happy with it, and he gets up to go to the replicator for a cup of coffee.

When he sits back down, he doesn't pick up his knots again, immediately, but studies them for a while. It's possible he could use some distraction. Or some advice.

Comments

[dinosheriff]

"They look interesting."

Comes a voice from Finnick's right as Jim leans over to get a better look, before reaching, pointing to one of the figures.

"A turtle, right?"

[fishermansweater]

It's still habit. A look a little too quick, too sharp: an assessment. Most victors have that instinct, and Finnick's survived two arenas. It doesn't go away. (Tall, well-built, probably capable of doing some damage but no obvious intention to do so. Not a threat, for now.)

It's the barest moment before his expression softens into a smile.

"Yeah. Like the sea turtles we get at home."

The one thing that Finnick misses about being here instead of home is the ocean.

[dinosheriff]

And Jim's noticed that. His position gets shifted a bit, almost defensively, but Finnick's getting appraised, too.

Of course, that doesn't stop polite conversation, now, does it?

"Huh... I've seen them before. My daughter had to do a presentation on marine life."

[radishearring]

Luna had her sketchbook open nearby, lost in trying to unravel a possible design flaw in using carrots as earrings. But when she looked up she spotted the little figures on Finnick's table. So she grabbed her sketchbook and after stopping for a fresh cup of tea she made the decision to mention them,"The dragonfly is lovely."

[fishermansweater]

Automatic assessment: girl, about the age of the older tributes in the Games. Slender, not a match physically, but that doesn't mean not dangerous. Her manner, though, is what makes the moment's sharp glance disappear a mere instant after it appears. Gently spoken, her words kind.

Finnick smiles, and it's genuine, pleased, making him look every bit the man famed all over Panem for his beauty.

"Thanks. I was experimenting."

[radishearring]

Luna opened up her sketchbook to share in case Finnick was curious,"Artistic experiments are the most fun I think." she mused. But Luna also had no idea some of her own secrets were on full display, mostly scars from her time in Malfoy Manor. "Mostly play around with jewelry and clothes myself and I'm Luna."

[rejoined]

Jadzia finds the knots and rope very, very interesting. Dax has seen a lot of things in her long life, but somehow this is new. Not wanting to sneak up on him and surprise him, she approaches from in front, head tilted with interest.

"I've never seen anything like that before," she comment, indicating the figures. "Those are really good. Do you do this much?"

[fishermansweater]

"Play around with rope? All the time." A sly smile sneaks across his features. "You could say I'm known for it, back in my world."

He's known for many other things, too, but his ability to create ropework both complex and practical with great ease is one of the least objectionable ones, even if the purpose to which he'd put it when he was fourteen and first winning fame isn't.

Through the boast, self-deprecating in its mildnesss and understatement, he's studying the woman who's approaching. He thinks he knows her, though it's through the secondhand intelligence from Annie that forms so much of his understanding of this place. Annie's met her, he thinks, unless there are two women around with that Capitolesque trail of spots down their face and those vividly blue eyes.

"These are just a bit of fun. Things I worked out or people showed me how to do."

[rejoined]

"That's an interesting thing to be known for," Jadzia replies with obvious interest. "I had a cousin who was known for magic tricks. Sleight-of-hand card tricks mostly, but he was also very good at pulling eggs out of nowhere." Things she's picked up from previous hosts include this. Some might think it completely useless, but for Jadzia, learning from her past hosts is everything.

Even learning something small like a card trick.

There's another meaning to Finnick's words, but being the married woman she is, Jadzia ignores it. He is so not her type anyway.

Annie has indeed met this Dax, though there are two Trill with these distinct spot patterns running around the ship. One is hard to miss and the other seems easily overlooked. The change would be perfect for Dax, if it seemed like the next Joining had actually been chosen willingly.

"I don't suppose you're willing to teach your tricks?" Jadzia asks, pushing thoughts of Ezri and her own future death to the side.

[engineermage]

"Oh. Hey. Those are pretty neat," Kale said as he walked over to see what Finnick was up to.

He has an appreciation for those sorts of things. He likes to make little figures out of wire when he's fidgety and these remind him of that.

[fishermansweater]

"Hey, Kale."

It only took him a moment to work out which twin it is; one of the lesser known things about Finnick Odair was that he had a brilliant memory and a good attention to details. Good enough to tell the twins apart, by now. Mostly. Besides, there's no sign of Veena around.

"Thanks," he continued. "I've been experimenting. To see if I can come up with anything that might work for the wedding."

[engineermage]

Kale is also wearing gloves. But Kale's not pretending to be Trever today so the differences are more noticeable if you know what to look for.

"How is the wedding planning going? Or should I say, how is avoiding the girls planning the wedding going?"

He sits down across from Finnick and picked up one of the turtles. "I've a little cousin who'd love this one. She wants to be a turtle when she grows up."

Said cousin is three, so being a turtle is still a reasonable life goal.

[electro_kinetic]

"Run out of animals and flowers?" asks Noriko, who has no rope; she has a roll of black coban wrap, a jar of cleaning putty, and a tube of lotion she's rubbing on her bare arms.

Completely bare, which they almost never are. Literally, maybe once every two months outside of showering. She has a lot of scars; her tube top shows the ones on her shoulder and back and ribs, but her arms are practically covered in burn scars, the starbursts meeting and melding and leaving very little clear skin. "You could try mizuhiki."

[fishermansweater]

He eyes Noriko for a moment before he replies. He's got a good memory, and he can hold onto a smoldering anger and resentment for years. Not that he's doing that here. Not exactly. He does, though, remember how Noriko had judged him when they'd first met, how upset Annie had been by her reaction to him.

After that brief glance, though, he lets his head tilt a little to one side. What had been a sharp expression softens.

It's a balance he's having to learn over and over again here: curiosity against vulnerability, whether it's better to learn what he doesn't know or protect the appearance of strength.

It doesn't take long to decide.

"What's mizuhiki?"

[abyssum_invocat]

"You made knots like mine," Sinthia says; true, she's wearing black and grey, but she has gradually transitioned into black denim trousers and a grey shirt.

"You still have all the gold thread?"

[fishermansweater]

"Hey."

Sinthia gets a smile when he looks up at her; he's fond of the girl, has been since he first met her and she'd reached out to show him kindness when he'd needed it most. There's a level of understanding between them, though he doesn't know what she's been through and he hasn't told her much about his past or his world.

He'd recognized the sadness in her as an echo of his own.

"Yeah," he agrees, still smiling. "I'm working on some stuff for Annie. I still have it all except a little bit I've used."

He sets down the cup he'd been holding. "How are you doing?"

[companioning]

Inara'd kept pretty much to herself since arriving, though she decided that it was time to finally perhaps get to know the others on the ship.

She'd been wandering about the ship and had finally settled on Ten Forward so she could at least get some tea when she spotted Finnick at a table. Her eyebrows lift as she approached and she glances over the various knotted objects.

"Those are beautiful..." She cleared her throat, offering him an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but they are lovely."

[fishermansweater]

He'd met Inara, briefly, once before, and he's seen her, in passing, since. There was something about her that reminded him of the Capitol. Not in the sense of affectation or artifice, but because of a poise and grace in her bearing that's incredibly rare in the districts. It was rare enough in the Capitol, where money and extravagance so often doubled for class.

It was more than that, though. There was sensuality, subtle enough that it would be hard for most to identify but Finnick could spot it because he wore sensuality like a coat most of the time himself. Especially in and for the Capitol.

Her voice, though, had none of the forced breathiness of the Capitol, so he gave her an easy smile.

"There's nothing to apologize for. I was just trying out some ideas."

[premonitioned]

Phoebe has a thing for jewellery and the headpiece is the first thing that catches her eye, and she drifts over to take a closer look at it while he's getting coffee. Her fingers are hovering over the dragonfly when he returns. "These are absolutely beautiful, who is the lucky girl?"

She smiles up at him. "I can tell you love her a lot, to put this much work into these."

[fishermansweater]

The question makes him smile. It's soft, though there's genuine happiness in it. He's still getting used to being able to admit that there is a woman in his life, a woman he'd do anything for, a woman he loves above anything else.

He sets the cup of coffee down on the table and studies the woman for a moment. Pretty, slim, holds herself well. No threat in the body language. Not somebody he's seen around much.

"I do."

Finnick leans forward, his hands pressing against the back of his chair.

"They're for my fiancée. Annie."

[toomanynitrogens]

He's seen him play with rope, but it's one of the few things Aidan's gone out of his way not to pay attention to. The intricate and delicate work hits him in a spot he works long and hard to pretend doesn't exist -- jealousy. Seeing him read or use a lab won't bring the feeling up, but whenever he tries to rock climb or do small work decorating baked goods, it's there as sharp and bitter as horseradish.

When he sits, it's on the other end of the table. All five of his fingers (and the two half digits) rest against the cool, firm surface much more stiffly than usual, if Finnick's seen him before.

[OOC: Since he'll be sized up, Aidan is 5'4 and about average build.]

[fishermansweater]

Finnick doesn't know Aidan's feelings, but if he did, he'd know the sentiment. Not from any injury -- the Capitol makes sure to mend the victors so they can properly relish in their success, after all -- but the feeling of not being able to do what others can do with ease is one he knows. It's one he's felt any time he's seen a couple in public since he started dating Annie, even here, where he can be in public with her, because the fear of retribution is so ingrained.

Finnick's seen him before, but he doesn't know who the man is. The missing fingers, though, he'd noticed; injuries like that are common enough in the districts, where the generosity of the Capitol doesn't extend to ensuring medical care.

There are other things to notice: more than half a foot of height Finnick has on the man, the advantage in build he also has, and the unease in the way his new companion sits.

"Hi," Finnick says, the smile he always has so easily to call sliding back onto his face like an extra coat of makeup. "We haven't met. I'm Finnick."

[seekingcrocodile]

He spends less time in Ten Forward than he used to, what with the surprise about Emma expecting a baby and his desire to be attentive to her needs and make sure he's never far away in case something happens. But that doesn't mean he never gets down here, like when Emma is napping or doing something somewhere else on the ship. And of course he notices a table strewn with knots, after he's spent so many years tying them himself. Not so much lately, with only one hand, and definitely none with rope that thin. He can't manage that with only five fingers.

Once he has his drink, he approaches the table. "Now that's not the sort of thing you see every day."

[magnetic_magpie]

Magneto has his own cup of coffee in his hand, a dull grey tumblr with an incandescent sheen under the right light. One Finnick has probably seen many times.

Sometimes he'd let Finnick work, but he wouldn't lie and say he wasn't still watching the boy, worried about his state of mind and mental health. Too old to be one of his students, at least when they were his students, but he was about their age now. He supposed that was part of his quiet fretting. And he'd been in similar shoes as Finnick once, even if he didn't like to dwell on that thought.

Magneto pulled up his own chair, dropping into it easily. "How is it coming?"

[fishermansweater]

"No reporting back to Annie what I'm doing."

Finnick says it with a tease in his voice that comes easily after so many months of getting to know Annie's roommate, of running into him in passing in the corridors or as Finnick slipped out of his fiancée's bed and arms and back to his own room in the mornings.

He picks up a piece of the metallic thread and starts toying idly with it, rubbing it between his fingers.

"Okay, so far." He points to the eternity knot headpiece. "I'm thinking something like this for her veil."

Shy has never been a word that could be applied to Finnick Odair, but there's something bashful, tentative, in the suggestion. He's still not used to the idea that he's planning his wedding to Annie.