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

[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?"

[electro_kinetic]

"Knot tying using rice paper string, essentially," she says simply; it's not that she's forgotten Finnick and the distaste with which she thinks of his political views, but she won't be that big a pain in the ass in public without provocation. "You either tie specific knots with a meaning and they go on cards or boxes, or you can sculpt with it and make animals or boats."

Noriko shrugs. "It's a Japanese thing. Pretty sure you can find a book on it."