Who: Finnick Odair and Inara Serra What: Discussing dancing, Companionship, and their worlds When: Backdated to shortly after Finnick's arrival Where: Coffee shop Warnings: References to Hunger Games- and Firefly-level sexuality
Finnick still had no idea what to make of this place. In truth, he hadn’t found it too bad yet. Which was precisely why he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to say. He didn’t think for an instant that there was actually a place that existed where people were brought to be saved and just given things. Nothing was ever handed out for free. Something had to be expected in return.
And on the same token, it was hard for him to be here when he knew that Annie, in some place and in some time, was suffering because of the decisions he had made. It barbed sharply inside of him to know that he was limited in what he could do. His only real mission at the moment could be to learn as much about this place as he could.
Today, he was spending the afternoon down in one of coffee shops. He’d figured it was a good place to watch people, but had also been unexpectedly delighted to learn they had hot chocolate here -- a commodity that had only been available to him previously in the Capitol.
…
With a stack of papers in her hands for grading, Inara made her way to the coffee shop, opened the door and walked towards the counter to order a simple cup of coffee. Typically in the afternoon she drank tea, not coffee, but this afternoon she rather thought the mental alertness the coffee would offer would be more helpful than the soothing peace of tea.
She offered a smile, a polite bit of small talk to the barista and went to find a table, realizing only once she did so that the place was rather more crowded than was typical. There was an open chair at a table in the corner, but it was occupied by a man she didn't recognize. Was he one of the residents of the Tower? Or someone else from outside. She supposed it didn't matter. She could ask him if he minded her company, and carry on a conversation with him in the meantime. Grading would wait.
"Hello," she offered him a bright smile as she approached. "They appear to have run out of tables - but is this chair taken?"
---
Finnick looked up as the woman approached the small table he was seated at. She carried herself with an easy sort of grace and had a polished sort of beauty. It was the sort of look that would have been easily missed in the Capitol -- or drawn out to ridiculous lengths. Still, Finnick had come to realize, just by being here for a day, that the beauty standards were much more … normal here. Which was something he could certainly appreciate.
“Please,” Finnick said with a broad and easy smile. There wasn’t much room in the shop, but he stood briefly, pulling the chair out for her before returning to his own seat.
“I’m Finnick,” he offered a moment later. It was still surreal, in a very wonderful sort of way, to have to introduce himself to people. Veronica had indicated that he had been here before, and that there would be people who would know him and Katniss, but if there were, they were few and far in between. Finnick was greatly enjoying the near anonymity of it all.
...
"Thank you," Inara offered him a warm smile and she set her cup of coffee down, and followed the coffee by the papers she was carrying and she took the seat he had pulled out for her. He certainly seemed to know manners and Inara straightened the papers and looked over at him with his introduction. The name didn't ring a bell for her, so it didn't particularly clue her into whether it was a resident or not, but he didn't entirely look like a native New Yorker. Well, not that Inara knew precisely what a native New Yorker looked like - and to be fair there was some variety in looks - but she'd been here for enough months to be able to pick up on small things, and something about Finnick didn't quite make sense to her.
"I'm Inara," she said simply, offering a hand. "I'm so sorry to take up your table, I promise you will not know that I'm here. I've never seen it quite this busy in here before." …
Finnick smiled as he accepted her hand, holding it in his own for perhaps a touch longer than strictly necessary before drawing back again.
“Inara,” he repeated, committing the name to memory. The names were different here from the ones he’d heard in Panem, although, after 10 years of being surrounded by Capitol names, the ones here were welcome.
“Oh, I doubt I could forget you’re here,” he said, voice just bordering on teasing, his statement an obvious reference to how beautiful she was. She was though; it was refreshing not to have to lie for once. Her beauty came not only from her physical appearance, but also from how she carried herself -- as if she was aware of what she was, but wasn’t vain about it. He thought they had to be close in age, but he wasn’t entirely sure.
…
Inara's smile acknowledged the compliment, but didn't dwell on it. She'd done that hundreds of times over her years as a companion as she'd received such compliments hundreds of times from people far less skilled at giving them, but few that she suspected were more skilled at giving them. Finnick, as he'd introduced himself, had garnered her attention and with the compliment she rather suspected he was open to conversation.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Finnick," she noted the papers in front of her with a tap of her now empty fingers. "I've got students that are anticipating grades in a few weeks time and I thought perhaps the coffee shop and a bit of coffee would increase their overall likelihood of good marks. However, I had not anticipated it being quite this full at this time of the day. Although this time of day is more likely to find me with a cup of tea in my apartment rather than coffee - typically." She smiled, a warm smile that invited him into the conversation. "What of you?"
---
“Students?” Finnick echoed in surprise. “You’re a teacher?” He almost commented on how young she was to be any sort of teacher, but held that comment back for the time being. It was the truth, but he knew that it would have come off as another line, which, for the time being, he didn’t think he needed. She was easy enough to talk to, and he was hoping to actually get to know a few people here instead of participating in an endless line of charades.
“Me?” he asked, matching her smile as he leaned back in his chair a little, legs stretched as far in front of him as they could go in the cramped space -- which wasn’t far at all.
“Freshly arrived, so I thought I’d come down and see what sorts of interesting people I could spot today,” Finnick answered, gesturing a little at the room surrounding them. …
"I am, with the educational services they offer here. I teach dance and Chinese, and a few other things." Inara offered a smile. "I'm not really from around here, and as it seems you may not be either, and what I was trained for at home, isn't a career that people do here."
"Although," Inara tilted her head and reached for the coffee. "I suppose I have been teaching a bit in the past few months at home as well. For a while I had done something different, but I had spent some time in a Companion school directly before coming here. It's different from the teaching I do here in some ways, although it is also similar in that dance, for instance, is a part of what I instruct in at home. But it is much more than simply dance - one must be able to carry on a conversation, make another feel at home. Which, if you have just arrived, I suppose home seems a ways from here right now doesn't it? Is this place much like where you come from?"
--- As much as he had made fun of Katniss having to go back to school, he felt distinctly out of his depth here. He had never been serious about anything academic and had never gone back to school after winning his Hunger Games. It left him with a shaky memory of the history his world. There were a lot of countries in this time, and while many of them sounded familiar when mentioned, he had trouble pinpointing many of them.
“Companion school?” Finnick echoed, not entirely certain what she was referring to. From the sounds of it, it was something specific to her world.
“No,” Finnick said with a laid-back smile. “My home isn’t like here at all.” He didn’t add more on that at the moment. He didn’t really want to think about his home, about the differences. He didn’t want to think about the fact that Annie was still out there somewhere, unprotected, being tortured, because of his decisions. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about any of it. No, he’d much rather hear about wherever Inara was from and how she went about teaching dancing and Chinese.
“Sugar?” he tacked on deftly as she reached for her coffee, hoping it would serve as another good distraction. …
"Yes, please, thank you." Inara gave him a smile, but a bit of a look as she considered him. It was obviously a deflection which made her wonder why, and what there was about home that he didn't want to speak of, but she let it go for the moment.
"Where I come from I work as a companion. There's not a very good comparison to anything here - and I don't know what you might have at home, but I have training in dancing, social graces, and I can be a counselor. My clients call for a variety of reasons - sometimes as simple as they wish a date for an important occasion, sometimes for emotional support, or sometimes physical intimacy, or perhaps all of the above. But I work with the guild and recently I have been at a school teaching, although I had been traveling and working independently for a while before that." After having assumed that Mulan knew what companions were, Inara did not want to make the same mistake with another arrival. She also knew that there were some among the arrivals for whom her honesty regarding her profession would be an immediate reason to end the conversation - but when it could be discovered on the Internet it seemed silly to beat around the bush with it all. …
Finnick passed along the sugar that sit closer to his end of the table as he listened to her explanation of what she did. He knew he didn’t fully understand the entirety of what she did until she mentioned the bit about physical intimacy -- and then he knew that some amount of surprise had to show on his face.
What she was describing was such a stark difference from everything he had ever known. There seemed to be a great amount of dignity attached to her job: training, a range of experiences that amounted to more than just sexual pleasure. He certainly had never heard of anything like that in Panem, not where there was money to be made and power to be abused.
“You have a guild and a school for that sort of work?” Finnick asked, finding that he was actually and genuinely curious.
…
Inara took the sugar and considered both tone and question that she was offered. She took a moment to put some sugar in the coffee and then looked back over at Finnick. It seemed he was curious, not judgemental, and she offered him a smile. "We do. It's very regulated, and those that wish to be a part of the Guild must follow certain guidelines, have certain qualifications, and meet certain standards of education. Those that choose a career as a Companion are recognized for the accomplishments that they must obtain to be licensed. Companions have different specialties, some are very good at music, others at dancing, or can discuss literature for hour upon end, but all must have some knowledge."
She took a sip of the coffee, her curiosity about him piqued. "But you're familiar with that sort of work?"
---
Finnick didn’t know what to think as he listened to her delve further into the explanation of her work and the system it was based on. It was a marvel to him that anyone would ever choose that kind of work. But then, it seemed a far cry from anything he had ever been exposed to before: something that was respectable, something that allowed for the retention of power. He wasn’t sure whether he thought the whole thing was brilliant or something that was still deplorable.
Surely, it was better -- worlds better -- than anything he had ever seen. But at the end of it, wasn’t selling a person still selling a person, no matter how nicely you dressed it up?
“Not quite like that,” Finnick answered amicably when she asked, figuring that his response was near enough to the truth.
...
Inara took another sip of her coffee and considered the man in front of her. She had immediately thought perhaps he was simply someone who was very skilled in making other people feel at ease - something not unusual in any reality honestly - but she was now thinking that it was something different than she had originally judged. She sat the coffee down on the table once more.
"Nor is there anything quite like that here," she said softly. "It took me a while to figure out precisely what I should do here as there is nothing so regulated, or so highly esteemed here. The counseling that I do at home, I would need to get licensed here for and it would take some time to do that - when I realised they needed people to teach dance, and some other things I was skilled in, it seemed that might be the best route to take. Both are helping people, after all."
---
He hadn’t seriously considered what he would be doing here. He was so newly arrived they they idea of work still seemed strange to him. He’d gone his whole life without having what people would refer to as a job; that’s just how victors were made to do. Of course, most of them came out of the arenas too damaged to be anything real. And, obviously he had no interest in continuing the sort of work that Inara was referring to.
“I’ll have to come and take one of your dance classes sometime,” Finnick answered easily. His grace was rather limited when it came to anything with measured steps -- something that Annie had been excessively fond of reminding him. …
Inara had to admit some curiosity. But she wasn't going to pry. She had been a companion long enough and was well trained enough to recognize when someone didn't want to share about themselves, and she was comfortable enough in the life she had found here to speak of her life here with others. There was enough she could speak of without getting deeply personal after all. And if Finnick did come dancing she would get to know him a bit more perhaps.
"You should, the education division is for anyone although the younger refugees here are required to take classes. But I have several adults in my dance classes in particular. It seems to be something a number of people are interested in. But we do have all levels," she smiled broadly. "It can be a bit amusing at times."
She reached for her coffee cup again and lifted it before asking him. "What do you think of things here? I know you haven't been here long, but first impression?"
---
He nodded when she made references to classes again, but didn’t say anything about Katniss. Somehow, he suspected that she wouldn’t like being talked about, even if plenty of people here seemed to be sorting out who she was rather quickly.
“What’s your favorite dance to teach then?” Finnick asked with a smile.
“Overwhelming,” Finnick said, still keeping his tone light. He paired it with another easy shrug. “Unbelievable,” he tacked on, and his tone came off almost wry this time. He knew they were vague answers, but it was hard to form complete thoughts about exactly what to make of this new world. It was nothing like what the Capitol, or even Four, was like back home, and he kept waiting for traps. He kept waiting for something bad to happen, for the truth of this place to come out. The worst part, he knew, was that he didn’t actually know if he was being the right amount of cautious or overly paranoid from years spent under Snow’s thumb.
...
"Oh, that's a hard call," Inara said thoughtfully, but with a smile on her face. "I admit that I have a fondness for the classics, a simple waltz which can be more complicated than some might think. But, a tango is invigorating, and I've always enjoyed ballet although that's not something I'm teaching."
Inara ran her finger around the mug and nodded. "It's very different from home for me too. In some ways simpler, but in some ways… overwhelming is a good word. At home we have space ships, so that's the part that's a bit simpler."
---
“Well, I don’t think I could handle ballet anyway,” Finnick said with a wry smile. “But a waltz. I think I could take on that challenge.” Annie had always been the most graceful out of the two of them, putting him easily to shame anytime that they tried to dance anything. The idea of learning to dance something properly, for her, warmed him for an instance -- until he remembered that he had no idea of knowing when he would see her again.
“Excuse me?” Finnick said, his smile deepening with bemusement. “Space ships?”
…
"Well then, you are challenged good sir," Inara said with a smile. "We'll see how well you can dance a waltz."
She lifted the mug with a twinkle in her eye. She had not much more notion of what Finnick's home world was like then she had when they started this conversation, something she rather suspected was how Finnick wished it, but she had decided that she could be patient with hearing about that. She could look it up, of course, but she wouldn't. She'd let him tell her in his own time, when he was ready too. Whatever it was, there was a reason he was saying little, and everyone in this tower had their own reasons for what they shared and what they did not - even knowing that their lives were so easily uncovered on the Internet.
"Oh yes, spaceships. Where we come from, Earth - this planet, or presumably one like it - has long been overwhelmed with people, and so we have gone out to other planets, and the alliance, that is the government there, rules multiple planets, although some are further from the central planets and have a good deal more freedom. I've spent a bit of my time on a ship, travelling to clients across various planets."
---
“Oh, I look forward to being quite embarrassed,” Finnick said wryly, raising his own glass up briefly toward her.
“That’s incredible,” Finnick answered as he listened to her share information about her world -- and didn’t even have to lie about it for once. To him, it was genuinely interesting that the worlds could branch off in such different ways. Space travel wasn’t something they even dreamed of back in Panem. The technology was so scattered, anything of value devoted solely to the Capitol and a few of the top-tier districts.
…
"I rather suspect that may be too hard on yourself," Inara said thoughtfully. "You rather look like someone who may have been dancing a time or two. I'm sure you'll pick it up quickly."
She looked around the cafe where they were sitting. In some ways it was easy to forget that she wasn't at home in some way or another - the people, the cafes, they all smacked of home and places she knew - but none exactly mirrored them, and of course the lack of space travel and the number of crafts bound to earth spoke otherwise. "It is quite I suppose. It certainly seems so in the comparison, but I think I have adapted to this place more quickly than some of the others from my world may have done. I haven't been flying my entire life after all. And I'm sure you'll adapt to here as well," she added giving him an encouraging glance. "Even if it is quite different than your home reality."