I've had the most hectic year so I've been taking a big break from writing and decided to try and get back into it with dipping my toes into Odesta full length fanfiction writing for the first time. This series is based off a role reversal prompt I received and answered on my Tumblr blog. Although I've loved them for years and read plenty of other peoples Odesta work, I'm still quite new at writing Finnick and Annie and writing them from a role reversal perspective is quite tricky to maintain characterisation but I'll try to do these major cuties justice. I'd love any comments or feedback if you could take the time after reading this first short chapter. Enjoy.
Annie Cresta played idly with her bracelets, sliding them up and down her polished and powdered skin, as she waited to hear which children from her district would be sent to their death with nothing more than a bored expression on her face. She had, for the first few years following her victory, been filled with a fierce determination to be a great mentor and produce another District Four champion but after having to watch child after child that she allowed herself to care for be mercilessly slaughtered year after year, she merely kept her distance and mechanically dished out the standard, generic advice.
Still, her heart twinged and her stomach squirmed uncomfortably as an absolutely wisp of a boy – twelve or thirteen at most – was reaped. The young boy burst into tears and Annie knew in that instant that he was as good as dead. Even at fourteen when the odds were stacked against her as she was called forth at her reaping, she maintained her semblance and marched with theatrical pride up to the stage. She was already so young - she couldn't look weak to her potential sponsors. It was her only chance. But this boy cried uncontrollably and ran to his mother before being dragged kicking and screaming off the distraught woman by peacekeepers. It was a heartbreaking scene and if Annie hadn't been desensitised by killing children and having her family murdered - she would have been crying as well.
"Ooooh, how exciting," Persephone, the District Four escort, trilled in the Capitol accent that made Annie inwardly cringe. "It seems we have a volunteer!"
Annie stopped fiddling with her jewels and looked up with interest. District Four citizens certainly had the odds in their favour in comparison to the other districts besides One and Two. They were naturally strong and fit from labour and their surroundings. Their bountiful ocean and good terms with the Capitol meant that hunger and poverty did not weaken them as much as less fortunate districts. There were a small portion of Careers in District Four. Sons and daughters of rich fishing or boating families who had their children specially trained but unlike One and Two, it was only just in case. There was no honour in The Hunger Games here, only sadness and grief. Unnecessary waste of life.
Annie craned her neck to see which gallant – or blindly stupid – soul was willing to die in the place of this pitiful child. She scanned the row of well groomed men, their lack of shirt displaying their tanned skin and athletic bodies - just in case. They all had their heads bowed in embarrassment and shame as they did each time a weak child was selected. There was movement right near the back where the older teenagers stood. She slumped back in her seat – her hopefulness deflating slightly as the tall boy rushed forwards through the crowd with his hand up to get the peacekeepers to let go of the boy. He was wearing a generic, slightly ill-fitting button down shirt and a brown newsboy cap that was synonymous for tradespeople and labourers whose families were too poor to have them stay in school. His raised arm lifted his shirt up enough for Annie to realise that his trousers were probably his father's best pants as he had used a length of fishing rope as a belt. Yes. This was a poor boy. A small hope. But unquestionably a better chance than the child who was now whimpering in his mother's arms.
Annie threw a glare to the eighteen year old male Careers who she had been playfully winking and blowing kisses at for the cameras beforehand. The girl was called out –fifteen this time but no less pathetic looking with her bony limbs, panicked eyes and pigtails but at least she didn't cry. Annie observed she was one of the wealthier children – maybe she had some training behind her but from the way her skinny fingers toyed nervously at her teal silk dress she knew it was going to be another brutally short Games for District Four.
"District Four's tributes," Persephone announced into the microphone and gesturing to the miserable looking though attractive teenagers. "Rosalie Cartwright and Finnick Odair! Shake hands you two!"
The boy – Finnick, the name tugged elusively on her memory - took off his hat, revealing sunkissed and untidy hair in a strange though lovely shade of bronze, and held it to his chest as he extended his hand to the girl. Manners. Well, at least that's one thing that will appease the Capitol to him. She was already trying to find angles on these two that she could use. The girl squeezed his hand once before letting her face fall slightly and crushed herself to his chest. He wrapped his hands around the girl's back and patted her reassuringly and whispered something. Annie saw Mags' hand fly to her heart, clearly touched and Annie suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Oh, yes how twistedly sweet. The Capitol would lap him right up. Poor but hardworking handsome boy from District Four. Mannered, kind hearted and self sacrificing to the poorer. And by the way the citizens pressed their fingers to their lips sombrely and held them in the sky and the distant movement of a woman with the same bronze hair collapse to the ground, sobbing despairingly – he was probably a well liked citizen. Though if saving and protecting children was his deal – Annie knew no amount of sponsors or Capitol adoration could save him from the Hunger Games. And as she tried to make out his tall and fit figure, golden skin and tousled hair from the distance and then glanced between her bracelets to the finger shaped bruises from last night's particularly rough client, she wondered whether it was for the best.