Annie Cresta | Victor of the 70th Hunger Games (
treadswater) wrote in
farsickness2021-06-18 08:24 pm
Entry tags:
a strange new day | OTA
WHO: Annie and YOU
WHEN: June
WHAT: Annie, having lunch and attempting to be sociable.
WHERE: Gazin's marketplace
WARNINGS: TBA
People can get used to anything. They build routines. Every boat Annie's served on has had its rhythms , every arena she's studied has had its patterns. On a boat, routines save lives: in the arena, patterns can be fatal. It all just depends.
So far, Annie has been thinking of this place as a cross between arena and boat. More boat, now. She's not exactly expecting her fellow... Well. They aren't tributes. Or fellow citizens. The people around her. She's not expecting them to ambush her.
(She's still keeping the possibility in mind, of course. She's not an idiot.)
All of which goes a ways to explaining how Annie has felt comfortable enough, or brave enough, to do this: have lunch, in the marketplace, after a morning of talking to perfect strangers.
She'd done that before Finnick arrived. She's capable of it. Even she can admit that. But he's the more sociable one, the one with the smooth tongue and the charm. It's been easier to let him do the talking, particularly when selling the fish they've been catching every day. But today their little rented boat is in for repair, and Finnick had been offered a spot on another fisherman's boat for a few hours. The relief Annie had felt had been a sharp reminder that, if they are staying for the foreseeable future in this weird place, the pair need more than a small room.
So Annie has been talking to people about rent. And renting living quarters. Or a small house. Or at least two rooms. Something that's not a small room in an inn. And she'd taken notes on a wax tablet and she'd been productive and-
It's exhausting.
But she's still on something like a roll, so she grabbed a pastry from a stall in the market-place, took a seat at one of the public tables and started to eat. She's still watchful, still cautious, but she's making an effort to be somewhat normal.
And if anyone walks over with food of their own, Annie will offer a smile and a quiet, "You're welcome to sit, you know."
WHEN: June
WHAT: Annie, having lunch and attempting to be sociable.
WHERE: Gazin's marketplace
WARNINGS: TBA
People can get used to anything. They build routines. Every boat Annie's served on has had its rhythms , every arena she's studied has had its patterns. On a boat, routines save lives: in the arena, patterns can be fatal. It all just depends.
So far, Annie has been thinking of this place as a cross between arena and boat. More boat, now. She's not exactly expecting her fellow... Well. They aren't tributes. Or fellow citizens. The people around her. She's not expecting them to ambush her.
(She's still keeping the possibility in mind, of course. She's not an idiot.)
All of which goes a ways to explaining how Annie has felt comfortable enough, or brave enough, to do this: have lunch, in the marketplace, after a morning of talking to perfect strangers.
She'd done that before Finnick arrived. She's capable of it. Even she can admit that. But he's the more sociable one, the one with the smooth tongue and the charm. It's been easier to let him do the talking, particularly when selling the fish they've been catching every day. But today their little rented boat is in for repair, and Finnick had been offered a spot on another fisherman's boat for a few hours. The relief Annie had felt had been a sharp reminder that, if they are staying for the foreseeable future in this weird place, the pair need more than a small room.
So Annie has been talking to people about rent. And renting living quarters. Or a small house. Or at least two rooms. Something that's not a small room in an inn. And she'd taken notes on a wax tablet and she'd been productive and-
It's exhausting.
But she's still on something like a roll, so she grabbed a pastry from a stall in the market-place, took a seat at one of the public tables and started to eat. She's still watchful, still cautious, but she's making an effort to be somewhat normal.
And if anyone walks over with food of their own, Annie will offer a smile and a quiet, "You're welcome to sit, you know."

no subject
"I'm, um, yeah I'm doing okay. Uh, good? We're fishing now."
Not that Annie has explained Finnick to Bucky. But she knows that Finnick's met Bucky, and she forgets to explain that 'we'.
"How have you been?"
no subject
"I've been good. It's been a lot of the same, of course, but sometimes a routine is a lot better than surprises. I've been working on forging knives - you need any to clean fish with? I could try and make you some, free of charge."
no subject
Then she laughs at herself. But she does miss her throwing knives, too. Even if she only used them on targets. There'd been something soothing about it.
"We're always in need of knives when it comes to fishing. I can, uh, come around and explain the type? They can be a bit different from your normal kitchen knives.
And, um, we, or. We can do an exchange? Fish for knives."
It's not an equivalent swap, of course, but she wants to make the offer. He's being generous, more than generous, and she wants to show her appreciation.
no subject
He hasn't made any scaling knives or filleting knives before but he knows what they look like. It wouldn't be a problem to start making those too now that he has a client for them.
"You and Finnick could come down to the Forge and tell me what you'd like?"