I Think I Need a Devil // {Mr. Falcon

whispering like it's a secret, only to condemn the one who hears it
with a heavy heart

"It would have," she agreed quickly and amicably, because it was true and also polite. How would her day have gone without him? She would've been sitting alone, fretting about burning her skin and bandits and who knows what else. Silly, childish things. Instead, she had made a new, and powerful, friend. She wondered if she might ask him to escort shipments in the future, but decided that would be something her aunt and uncle really ought to handle, them being adults and she being sixteen.

She considered his question, weighed the times of the last few shipments. "Usually a few minutes early, actually, and one time it was three minutes late." Ah numbers, how she loved them. "No, can't hurt. Thank you again." She smiled and turned her attention to the hovercraft pad, which was shimmering faintly in the heat. Oh how she longed for it to be warmer, to be back in the embrace of the smithy. Soon enough, soon enough she told herself.

A silence fell between them, and while it wasn't exactly comfortable, neither was it painful. She glanced up to find him locked in thought. "Anything the matter?" She asked, as one friend would to another. Genie was determined to make this acquaintance stick.

whispering like it's a secret, only to condemn the one who hears it
with a heavy heart

Genie trained her broad eyes on him, the brown of her irises deep and wide. They were innocent eyes, reflecting back curiosity and little else. She was enough to introvert to keep her emotion locked her chest, and enough of a rationalist that it was rarely a problem. At the moment she mostly felt intrigued by her companion, and perhaps a little tired. Being in the smithy and then out in the sunlight did that to her. She loved the heat, but it was so cloying, drawing her ever closer to sleep.

Not that she would

whispering like it's a secret, only to condemn the one who hears it
with a heavy heart

Genie picked up the pace alongside the Captain, head bowed against the light of the sun. The district didn't have the worst heat of Panem, but it was among the most polluted. The sun filtered through smog, turning the light brown, making it almost a physical thing. She wished she had brought along an extra shirt or something to cover her mouth. Genie hated to be dirty, but the only solution now would be to plan better for her next outing. She was entirely absorbed in her thoughts, so much so that she did not notice the stiff gait of the Peacekeeper beside her, until he brought them to a halt.

"I can't say I've done a lot of climbing," Genie admitted slowly. She might be able to to, she thought, as she stretched her arms forward. Her triceps jumped to life. Work in the smithy did have certain advantages when it came to keeping her arms in mint condition. But climbing... that sounded dangerous. And as strong as she was, Genie could not afford to lose the use of her agile fingers.

"What's the alternative?" She looked up to him, grateful to be in the shade of the building.

whispering like it's a secret, only to condemn the one who hears it
with a heavy heart

Genie stared at him, trying very hard not to laugh. She hadn't heard such a ridiculous plan since she was a little girl in the play yard with her peers. Jump and fire a weapon? It was insanely dangerous. Temptingly dangerous. Could an Alder propel someone? Certainly she'd fired enough test shots to know how strong the recoil was. But it was always buffered by her shoulder, never used for propulsion. And now that he had mentioned it, she couldn't help wondering if it would work - and at what cost. Genie was enough to of a realist to figure that into the equation.

And she definitely couldn't afford to have a Peacekeeper die right in front of her with an Alder-made gun. So, that plan was out. Neither of the others really suited her either, though. "I'd hate to waste one of your bullets..." She began diplomatically before looking up the building. It wasn't so far, but certainly far enough to be a difficulty.

"Maybe I could give you a boost?" She offered, awkward smile stretching into her cheeks. It was bold, and strange, to say such a thing to someone of his stature, but so far it also seemed like the safest plan.

whispering like it's a secret, only to condemn the one who hears it
with a heavy heart

Genie wasn't sure that she trusted his assessment of himself. Pulling oneself up was hard in the first place; doing so on the side of the building? But Peacekeepers needed to keep in reasonably good shape. Not all of them did, but clearly Captain Falcon cared at least a little about his physique. But enough to hoist himself up? Besides which, she didn't have a perfectly clear idea of where the glasses were, and since he couldn't see, it seemed the probability of success was low. But, far be it from her to point this out to him, especially when he seemed so enthusiastic about her feeble plan.

She was still sizing up the dilemma, debating the physics of it, when he jumped and then beckoned her forward. This particular part of the plan she had not thought about at all. She would now have to touch him. Genie visibly recoiled as the thought came to life, but she was above such silly things. She gave herself a second to collect her wits, and then put her arms around his ankles, her forearms dropping beneath the arches of his feet.

"Okay, I think I should be able to, er, help support..." She had never felt so ridiculous in her entire life.

whispering like it's a secret, only to condemn the one who hears it
with a heavy heart

Doing fine. In Genie's book, that was considerably sub-par. She had always been near the top of her class, even now that she didn't attend afternoon classes. And when it came to making Alder pistols, she was the best. It was an unspoken assumption at home that the business would pass to her when her Uncle's hands failed. It wouldn't be soon, she hoped, but he was getting old, and the level of detail and focus the work required was considerable. This she knew first hand, because she was brilliant at it. To be average, fine, was like a punch to the gut.

She marveled at the feeling, shocked at its origin. He hadn't meant to insult her, so what was the big deal? But the day had been so entirely out of the ordinary, bordering on silly, that it simply did not compute for Genesis, and when that happened, she delved even further into herself. "Okay!" She called back, shielding her eyes to see him. Genie pointed past him, in the direction she assumed his meant when he said "the other side" (there were, in fact, three of them).

She dropped her arm and started walking alongside the building, hugging close to its shade. It was then she heard it. The distant whirr as the hovercraft sliced through the air. Genie turned, putting one palm to the building, and looked back at the pad, now so far away.

"Guess it was three." She said to herself, and her upper lip twitched just slightly. She stood there, paralyzed by indecision.