District 4- Finair

[seafeather]

Finair Levian

I can't see, 'cause it's burning deep inside
Like gasoline, a fire running wild
No more fear 'cause I'm getting closer now
So unreal, but I like it anyhow

Faster-Within Temptation

I jog through the thick grove of palm trees, beneath the trees were thick bushes with leaves like spring grass. The hot sun beat down on my bare back, burning it with it's heat. But I've lived here long enough to go without a sunscreen. I get anything but sunburned. I feel the rush of my next task ahead, pulsing through me like the morphling some victors become addicted to. I finally see it, my destination. A tall cliff, with a shear drop into the choppy sea. Already I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins into every square inch of my body. I look down the cliff to see my quest and how to take on this "Fasting" dive. My sea green eyes scan the transparent blue waters for signs of rocks or coral. Nothing.

My lips form a smile over my teeth, anticipating this jump. I walk a few yards back and face the point of the cliff, it meets with the blue sky spotted with puffy clouds like dandelions. My toes poised on their tips, I run for the edge. The last step I take was at the point and I spread out my arms, jump and fall. The exhilaration of the fall blew me away. I haven't jumped from this height before, it was an all new rush. Here was were I felt my place in the world click. As a Faster, I was free like a bird. My worries all but vaporized by the adrenaline. My fears dissipated. I turn somersaults in the air, corkscrew with my arms out wide. The wind in my face, the spray of the sea, memories rushing back like a flood. My first day on the docks, the day my mother passed away, the freedom I felt while swimming and on boats was all here. In the air.

With a hundred feet or so left of free air, I put my legs together and point my toes, my arms crossing over my chest making a pencil dive and fall. Adrenaline, power, freedom. All found in this on spot, this one solitude. The sea engulfs me in its sun-warmed arms. Bubbles float their way to the surface as I watch them. Quickly joining when my lungs begin to hurt from the lack of oxygen. I break the surface, gulping in the humid air of District 4 and I see him. Clad in a black cloak, the one who first introduced me to Fasting. I give him a curt nod and a knowing smile spreads across his face. Just another one of his victims. Another one of his puppets.

I make my way to the shore, my shoulders aching from stroking them across the water to get me to land. My bronze hair a light brown from the water, and messy. A shine of water covers me from head to toe, but in minutes I'm dry. I make my way back to town and throw on a shirt from my house. Dad asleep on his bed, and I'm heading towards mine when he wakes up.

"Don't tell me you were cliff diving again..." He says in an exasperated tone.

"Yeah." I reply. He shakes his head in embarrassment...or was it pity? I do the same and throw myself onto the sheets of my bed. Engulfing me like the sea I so wished to return back to.

[fαllεη •]

It was no surprise that Finair was home late; there were few days he wasn't. The slow walk of a spider walking down the wall was all there was to pass the time; there was little more entertainment than that. And once Binley and his mother got home, well, the house would either errupt or start to feel the strain.

And as a father, it was Rod's job to try to keep those marks from showing. After all, what alternative was there? He did the best he could for his son.

There were days when Leanne came back to haunt him; there were days when Linne just didn't want to back off. And Binley... God, that kid had never grown up. He was past the reaping now. Just Finair to go. And every time he left the house, he was all too aware that one day, he might not come back. His son, the only thing he had left of Leanne.

Then he heard footsteps. Just one pair, so it couldn't be Linne and Binley. He'd have to remind her to talk to that kid about leaving home, getting a decent education. Preferrably that big one on the other side of the District, where he could learn to work behind a desk all day. Then there'd be no chance of his son meeting him on a fishing trawler. Binley's temper had gotten worse with age: better he get a desk job.

He spoke. His son replied in the affirmative. Oh no. He was going to have to say something now. Think in the present tense for once in your life.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Rod was back from fishing for now, but next week it was back on the open ocean. The Capitol's greed for fish was insatiable, a lot like his son's need to throw himself of a cliff. It was crazy, but it wasn't going to end. Nevertheless... He knew Fin wasn't sleeping. He'd have to say something now.

Getting to his feet, he sat down on the edge of his seventeen-year-old-son's bed. "Look, Fin..." he sighed, rubbed his eyes. "I know you like hanging around those Fasters. I'm glad you've got people to talk to."
A worn smile creased his face, and he had to force himself not to tousle the kid's hair-- even boys still needed their dignity. Sometimes.
"I can't stop you from doing it, can I?"

[seafeather]

Finair Levian

I can't see, 'cause it's burning deep inside
Like gasoline, a fire running wild
No more fear 'cause I'm getting closer now
So unreal, but I like it anyhow

Faster-Within Temptation

I had just settled down into the soft covers of my bed when Dad walked over and sat near the edge of it. My father had a gift for falling asleep whenever, I didn't. At times like this I wished that I had that gift, that way my father wouldn't get in a word to talk to me. Dad didn't understand my need for adrenaline. How it gave me power and freedom. But he did understand that a boy needs his space every now and then. He's all I have left, and I can't push him away now, especially to leave him alone with Linne and Binley. I hate that kid. So selfish and always begging for more. Sometimes I think about running off to the sea with Dad, but I know I couldn't stand the time away from my beloved cliffs and Fasting. With a huff of air, Dad began a talk which would probably be like a speech.

"Look, Fin..." Dad sighed, rubbed his eyes. "I know you like hanging around those Fasters. I'm glad you've got people to talk to." I scoffed. That was one thing that I had to explain to him. But only because he needs to get his words right. I don't hang out with other Fasters. We're on our own. Dad gave a smile, so worn. He was tired and needed a nap, or a vacation or something. Dad's hand twitched, probably refraining to do something to me like when I was a child. Tilt my chin, mess my hair up, not like it wasn't messy already, but still, just a gesture only a father would do. "I can't stop you from doing it, can I?" There it was. The question he's always brought up. Guilt flared inside me. I didn't like worrying my Dad, but he had to know that I wasn't going to die. Already, the day's earlier excursion was wearing off. My high coming down to a low.

"Dad," I began. My voice trying to be devoid of all sarcasm. "I don't hang out with other Fasters. We're on our own Dad. I'm by myself, just like that creep that got me Hooked." A tone of bitterness trailed in my words. Of course I was in love with Fasting, but I don't much appreciate how I got Hooked. Getting surprised by someone pushing you off a cliff doesn't exactly put that person on your "friends list." A sigh escaped my lips. I hate breaking Dad's heart, but someone has to tell him the truth. "No, you can't stop me. I love it Dad. It's my...reality. You should come with me sometime," My voice was teasing, but stopped when I saw the frown on his face. "Sorry. I won't die Dad. Fasting isn't even illegal. There should be nothing for you to worry about."

I sat up, immediately knowing that I wasn't going to fall asleep. Not now. My chance was ruined and now I had to Fast again. Oh well. Maybe the same cliff would give me the same high. As if that was possible. My hair had already dried and so did the rest of my clothes. Oh well, getting them wet again wouldn't hurt anything.

[fαllεη •]

It hit him quite suddenly. All the things his son told him; all the things his father would've told him. Sometimes, being a father often meant doing things that would make your children (child) hate you bitterly. However safe... correction, however much Finair assured him that he wasn't going to die, it was a father's right -his responsibility, even- to put his foot down. And he just couldn't do it.

Even if it was the best thing for Finair (who was already annoyed with him for 'not getting it', the usual offence), what difference would that make if it meant his son would hate him? If Rod had been more like his own father... Tough love ran in that family a mile wide, and Rod had grown up hating his father for the things he'd done-- turned him into a mama's boy for much of his life. That just couldn't happen with Finair-- he and Linne were like seagulls fighting over the same fish. So where else could he turn to? It wasn't something he liked to contemplate. There was simply too much loss lying in that direction.

He turned away to hide his disappointment from the Faster on his son's bed.

"I love it, Dad. It's my... reality."
Wasn't reality enough for his son, then? Not that he could fault him-- that was the trouble. He knew his son, knew that right now he'd ruined the boy's chance at sleep and he was probably going out to the cliffs again.
"Fin." His voice was harder than before, but he couldn't look his son in the eye. "Fin, I don't want..."
He sighed, rubbed his temples and tried to formulate the words. If Finair left now, he'd be left staring at that spider on the wall until he came home again; if he put his foot down, Finair might never return. A week seemed too short and too long a time to wait for his shipmmates to return, and then he'd be off again. Awful father. Decent fisherman.
"Just... do whatever you want. Maybe I'll take you up on that offer sometime." And, as parents through the centuries have done, he hid his sadness and smiled at his son.