𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄 ━━ finnick odair ✓

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫. ( standout )

         My hands fumble with the rope I'm attempting to make a knot out of. After stopping at the fire starting station, I had decided to head over to knot tying. I'd thought I knew enough about it to not make a fool of myself, but I've been mistaken. The trainer is patient, but there's a limit to how much help she can actually provide. I can picture the patterns of the knots perfectly in my head, but I'm hopeless at doing it in practice.

Resigning to the fact that I should have saved it for another day, I move on. As per Finnick's suggestion, I've been making my way around to stations I feel comfortable at first. The fire starting was easy enough. I'd never had to make one before, but found it quite easy to remember the necessary combinations of variables to make some respectable fires. The edible plants lesson went similarly smoothly, actually being able to impress the instructor with my recall of information.

I head over to the broad technology wing. There could be no way I'd be bad at this, with years of technology oriented education in District 3. There's only one man running the area, and when I approach he seems fairly surprised.

"You're a smart one, aren't you?" He asks, chuckling. "You'd never catch one of those career tributes over here."

"Well, nobody really wins the games through smarts alone." I snort, cynicism coming through after my frustration with the knots.

"Nobody ever tries." He states flatly.

I regain his good graces as we work through the robotics table. I assemble a drone on his provided motherboard through scraps of wire and plastic in the bins around us, earning a compliment from him and a few stares from tributes across the hall. He points them out to me casually, wondering if I'll drum up more visitors for him now. Where I really begin to excel is in the simple exercise of organizing complicated strings of components into a single current. When I get the jumble of connections to turn on, the instructor is beaming. His grin turns into a stern stare.

"It will be the biggest shame in the history of our nation if you don't put your brain to good use. It's a goddamn shame you were chosen to be in the games." He seems truly upset.

"I'll try my best," I assure him.

"I didn't get the chance to ask for your name." His statement surprises me.

"Oh, well I'm Faraday Jones," I inform him.

"Faraday, like Michael Faraday?"

"Yes, my mother found his work in energy field deflection particularly compelling." The line I've repeated over and over so many years to teachers feels reassuringly familiar on my lips.

"How interesting." His eyes twinkle.

As I walk off I realize I've completely neglected to ask for his name in return. But when I spin around to go back, I see him helping the boy, Johannes, from District 2. There's only time for a little bit of training at the camouflage station before we're all called to lunch. The atmosphere in the small cafeteria is uneasy, with most of the tributes settling near the back. Not quite wanting to sit beside each other, but not wanting to be outliers either, they form a neat huddle. The four tributes from the first two districts sit in their own bunch, making a loud ruckus as they eat. After Seamus grabs a plate, he goes directly over to them.

The alliance between these three districts is present in nearly every Hunger Games. Their training in conjunction with their strength of numbers makes them formidable predators that end up weeding out the weak very quickly. I should technically be in on it as well. No doubt the girl who should have taken my place would have been welcomed into the arms of the "Career Tributes"