finn cartwright || pk (in training)

There wasn't much of a legacy left to leave, huh? Bloodstained palms, linked fingers, broken promises - he curses his mother for being such a fucking romantic. He was named for a boy his family never met because of some projected jealousy his grandfather never learned to cope with. Lose a sister, saint the sickly little thing that died alongside her. Great. Good.

Remind Finn why he should care?

Lumi made the Cartwright name an unnecessarily heavy burden to bear. If you ask Finn those tributes were twenty-four optimists and opportunists, selfish in the way they didn't stop to consider what their rebellion would mean for those they left behind. They all died anyway, and for what exactly? Grandpa Ari screamed in his sleep up until he passed away and a few years before that Finn learned the hard way why he never got that puppy he'd been asking for since he was three.

But no, yeah, let's treat them like they were heroes. Speak of them with whispered reverence, make their sacrifice into fables with an altruist's moral. If they'd just done what they were told Finn would be a lot better off now. You know how hard it is to find work when your family's been monitored for 'rebellious activity' since before you were born? The Capitol sure was desperate to extinguish anyone who even dared to carry a hint of his grandmother's spark.

The Cartwrights decayed with pride, forgive Finn if he finds that worthless. They were never rich, but electrical engineering used to buy a modest house and enough food to get you through the winter. That is, until the locals get paranoid you're planting little rebellion bugs in their light fixtures and your dad's face goes from jolly and round to pathetically faunt. He's an only child (thank god) so his parents managed to keep him fed for a couple years longer than they fed themselves. Finn wishes they hadn't.

They sold their old home during the summer and barely scraped up enough pennies for an apartment come winter. Finn was too young to remember those few months without a home and his mom changes the subject whenever he dares to ask so it was probably awful. So he doesn't ask much anymore. If this unwanted legacy has taught him anything it's that in the end it's better to keep your head down and knee bent or else you end up drowning in your own blood on the floor of a shitty coliseum.

His mother used to cry every morning before the reaping, squeezing his shoulders like it was the last hug she'd ever give him. Finn doesn't understand why they can't just get over it, why they treat one kid's death as a personal wound they're incapable of treating.

They never even fucking met her.

His dad does construction work now, paid pennies to put his life at risk. Back before they lost the house, he used to make Finn little contraptions with spare parts and stolen circuit-boards. Finn threw those out once he saw the way his father's shoulders sagged at the sight. Finn was young when they lost everything, but not young enough that he doesn't have to remember what it was like when they lived happily ever after.

They say your life is defined by a few shining moments and Finn would say there's two that come to mind.

His Great Aunt's death.

And the day he enlisted.

His mother tried to talk down his father when Finn broke the news. Finn's never heard him shout at Momma before and the moment remains etched in his mind's eye, swollen with guilt. (You don't understand, Rita! You weren't born into this family! You don't have her blood!)

If his father would rather mourn some dead girl than have a stable supply of food, that's on him, but Finn's tired of wasting away. It's a slow death, one that cannot be reached without a broken heart and-

he'd really thought he was doing something to help them.

He learned the day before he left for the academy that his father would rather have no son than a peacekeeper for one.

Finn, scratch Cartwright off the name.

That's okay, he's still gonna save them.

FINN CARTWRIGHT