The Flying Fish (Exocoetidae)|| Finnick Odair X Fem!OC

Show and Tell

very small timeskip, im just lazy and didn't want to write about the other training days.

"Alright, it's time for individual assessments. Each of you is going to show off your skills to the Gamemakers. My advice? Make an impression." Finnick sits down on the couch, manspreading. No, Cress was definitely not admiring him, not at all.

Just a little bit.

"So, what do you recommend?" Ferric leans forward in his seat, raising his eyebrow.

"Well, you're strong and can wield a speargun. Do that. Show off whatever you can that makes you look desirable and worth sponsoring." Finnick shrugs.

"Helpful." Cress rips into her piece of chicken. "Any more amazing advice from the wise Finnick Odair?"

"Don't fuck up." Finnick doesn't crack a smile, showing he's serious. She gulps, swallowing her food.

"Lovely," she whispers, eyebrows furrowed. "Lovely, lovely, lovely."

"Relax Cress, it's gonna be fine," Finnick's voice goes to a softer tone and he gently takes her hand, squeezing it. "You're gonna do great, I promise."

"Alright, let's go. Come on Cress." Ferric holds out his hand for her to take. "We want to get there early."

"Why so early?" Finnick asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Better than being late." Ferric shrugs.

"He has a point," Cress sighs, standing up. Finnick's grip on her hand momentarily tightens before he lets her go.

"Good luck," Finnick says softly, watching them leave. Cress glances back at him one last time before the door shuts, leaving her and Ferric alone.

"Are you ready?" she asks Ferric.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess," he mumbles, standing to the side to let her onto the elevator first.

"I mean, what should I show them?" she mumbles, picking at her skin.

"Your trapeze skills, definitely. It's unique and will get their attention," Ferric responds practically right away.

"Yeah.. yeah, you're right. Thanks Ferric." Cress smiles at him, a rather weak half smile but still a smile.

"You're gonna wow them, I would bet on it." Ferric smiles at her as the elevator does open, the other tributes turning to look at them.

"Seems our idea to show up early was a popular one," she mumbles, sitting down quietly.

"Apparently," he gives her a side smile, waiting beside her.

"Cliff Brightforge, District 1, please enter for your assessment." The metallic voice that had been used during the Tribute Parade rang through the room. A dark skinned boy, Cliff apparently, walked into the door, which buzzed as it opened.

The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, none of the tributes talking. The girl from District 1, Velora Farbrook, was called next. Then the tributes from 2. Then 3. Then Ferric was called.

"Good luck," Cress whispers, watching Ferric walk away. He gives her a reassuring nod and the doors shut behind him.

Without Ferric, she feels very alone. And watched. After what felt like forever, her name was called.

"Cress Bronzetide, District 4, please enter for your assessment." She stands up and walks in quickly, sighing when the door shuts behind her.

"Um, hi," she mumbles awkwardly. "Cress Bronzetide, District 4." She glances around the room, noticing the hacked apart dummy and discarded speargun. She spends a minute putting together the trapeze and catch bar, but manages it.