[Finnick suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. He just said he wouldn't... Whatever. He needs a drink.]
Pleasure.
[He heads into the bar, taking a seat near the other sailors, who are being somewhat boisterous, as sailors do. It's a nice, familiar thing for Finnick, even if he hasn't been around it much in about a decade.]
no subject
Pleasure.
[He heads into the bar, taking a seat near the other sailors, who are being somewhat boisterous, as sailors do. It's a nice, familiar thing for Finnick, even if he hasn't been around it much in about a decade.]