Re: [Hotel; Finnick]
He tipped his head to the side. For some reason, it seemed a long way to travel, though his hair was not long and his head not particularly large or heavy. Stiles was young, and he had enough thin muscle and energy of youth to handle the kitsune-tsukai for some time, but there was still a faint air of illness about him. He did not look strong, an impression compounded by the depth of faint color over his cheekbones and under his eyes. The dark eyes were brown, but it was not possible to describe them as such. They were simply dark.
"The Capitol," he repeated. Then shook his head promptly, dismissing it. "No, I'm not from a capital of anything. Just some little town out in the hills. Nowhere, really." But his rounded eyebrows arched up with obvious interest, matching a name to a place.
The dark eyes went very wide, very wide indeed. "The Hunger Games. That's a movie. A book. Where the kids kill each other. For food or something. I didn't actually get a chance to watch it--but it's on Netflix." He stepped back to look Finnick over. "You're from there? I thought it was about a girl. Cat-ness." He pronounced it slowly.