There are circumstances in which he might, of course, but he learned a long time ago to take whatever enjoyment he could out of parties thrown by people who would probably be happy to see him dead and definitely wanted to do him harm. That had been a regular feature of his life as a victor. But there'd been a headiness about it: the food, the drink, the adulation of his admirers, and of course, the various other things that the denizens of the Capitol used to have fun. He'd done all of them, and on his better days, he'd managed to enjoy himself, at least until he'd gotten involved with whichever patron he'd been ordered to entertain.
Here there are no patrons.
There may be the constant ever-itching sense of danger in the back of his mind, the uncertainty about what the bots and the other people in this place want, but he's used to dealing with Snow, Gamemakers, and the fear of knowing Annie was always a hostage for his behavior. At least here he's free from Snow, and there are no patrons. Here, he's been able to genuinely enjoy himself when the bots have thrown their parties.
Besides, it's still thrilling to get to take Annie as his date to a party.
So he plans to enjoy himself, and that starts with getting styled. Not that the spa bots have any of the talent of his stylist or prep team, but he's willing to give them a chance.
So late in the afternoon, Finnick can be found at the spa, seated in front of one of the bots and watching it work in a mirror. It's a look that matches the gold of the suit he's been provided, with swirls drawn across his cheeks and accented in green, with gold glitter as an accent. More than an accent, even. Quite a lot of gold glitter.
Finnick is obviously pleased with the look, grinning in the mirror as he gets up and swiping a container of glitter.
"In case I need a touch up."
As he's on his way out, he'll pause by anyone else getting made over by the bots.
"You really should consider glitter."
b.
There haven't been many opportunities to really shine here. He's a beautiful man at any time, but he's always loved to accentuate his natural looks with makeup and beautiful clothes and when that combines with the delight of being at a party without the pressures of the Capitol, he really does shine. Literally, from his jacket and his glitter, but mostly from the brilliance of his smile and the brightness of his whole being as he walks in with his arm around Annie's waist, as he swirls around the dance floor with her, and as he collects glasses of champagne from the bar.
"Champagne. Finally something that's not tequila."
He offers out a glass to a passer-by. "Champagne?"
When their attention is all drawn to the dome, it doesn't take as long as he expects to shake the feeling that he's about to see the photographs of tributes floating above them, and to sink into enjoyment of the astronomical show. He spends the whole rest of the show staring in delight up at the dome, except for the moments when he sneaks glances across to his wife to watch her delighted reactions.
When the celebratory text scrolls out across the dome and the lights go up, he pulls the glitter out of his pocket and unscrews the cap and grabs a pinch. He tosses it towards Annie, so that it settles in her hair and on her dress. Then, laughing, he grabs another pinch and tosses it into the air.
Finnick Odair | The Hunger Games | OTA
He's not going to say no to a party.
There are circumstances in which he might, of course, but he learned a long time ago to take whatever enjoyment he could out of parties thrown by people who would probably be happy to see him dead and definitely wanted to do him harm. That had been a regular feature of his life as a victor. But there'd been a headiness about it: the food, the drink, the adulation of his admirers, and of course, the various other things that the denizens of the Capitol used to have fun. He'd done all of them, and on his better days, he'd managed to enjoy himself, at least until he'd gotten involved with whichever patron he'd been ordered to entertain.
Here there are no patrons.
There may be the constant ever-itching sense of danger in the back of his mind, the uncertainty about what the bots and the other people in this place want, but he's used to dealing with Snow, Gamemakers, and the fear of knowing Annie was always a hostage for his behavior. At least here he's free from Snow, and there are no patrons. Here, he's been able to genuinely enjoy himself when the bots have thrown their parties.
Besides, it's still thrilling to get to take Annie as his date to a party.
So he plans to enjoy himself, and that starts with getting styled. Not that the spa bots have any of the talent of his stylist or prep team, but he's willing to give them a chance.
So late in the afternoon, Finnick can be found at the spa, seated in front of one of the bots and watching it work in a mirror. It's a look that matches the gold of the suit he's been provided, with swirls drawn across his cheeks and accented in green, with gold glitter as an accent. More than an accent, even. Quite a lot of gold glitter.
Finnick is obviously pleased with the look, grinning in the mirror as he gets up and swiping a container of glitter.
"In case I need a touch up."
As he's on his way out, he'll pause by anyone else getting made over by the bots.
"You really should consider glitter."
b.
There haven't been many opportunities to really shine here. He's a beautiful man at any time, but he's always loved to accentuate his natural looks with makeup and beautiful clothes and when that combines with the delight of being at a party without the pressures of the Capitol, he really does shine. Literally, from his jacket and his glitter, but mostly from the brilliance of his smile and the brightness of his whole being as he walks in with his arm around Annie's waist, as he swirls around the dance floor with her, and as he collects glasses of champagne from the bar.
"Champagne. Finally something that's not tequila."
He offers out a glass to a passer-by. "Champagne?"
When their attention is all drawn to the dome, it doesn't take as long as he expects to shake the feeling that he's about to see the photographs of tributes floating above them, and to sink into enjoyment of the astronomical show. He spends the whole rest of the show staring in delight up at the dome, except for the moments when he sneaks glances across to his wife to watch her delighted reactions.
When the celebratory text scrolls out across the dome and the lights go up, he pulls the glitter out of his pocket and unscrews the cap and grabs a pinch. He tosses it towards Annie, so that it settles in her hair and on her dress. Then, laughing, he grabs another pinch and tosses it into the air.
He's not sorry if it got you.