the first thing you learn is how strong you can be if you have to ,
the next thing you learn is how ( cold ) it can get at night .
#DROWNSEAS ⸻ a dependent multi - muse blog affiliated with mockingjaysfm . penned by jean , twenty5 , they/she , cst .
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@drownseas
the first thing you learn is how strong you can be if you have to ,
the next thing you learn is how ( cold ) it can get at night .
#DROWNSEAS ⸻ a dependent multi - muse blog affiliated with mockingjaysfm . penned by jean , twenty5 , they/she , cst .

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open starter !!
post-reaping
the tribute tower didn't feel as different as icarus had expected. same doors, same floors, same people funneled through the lobby. he had somehow imagined that everything would've changed, that it would've mattered; that throwing the victors back to the wolves would serve to at least heighten the spectacle, would at least hold meaning. it felt bitter, more than anything. cheap. as much as he lacked the heart to truly worry about the newly-turned tributes, he knew a cheap shot when he saw one.
the lobby buzzed with an odd tension, like the reaping hadn't served its purpose properly, like grief had overtaken the place already. normally, he could at least muster up some faint hope for an underprepared and tiny tribute to claw their way out of hell -- now, there was nothing. he felt as though he was traversing a graveyard simply making his way from one end of the lobby to the other.
something bubbled under the surface, something dull in the back of his throat, an awful sinking feeling in his stomach. he thought it was numbness right up until he passed the crying tribute from ten, who had taken to hiding behind an armchair.
then, he realised that what he felt was much simpler -- he was angry.
he'd long passed the girl, but the feeling lingered. when he reached the corner of the lobby he'd been heading towards, he kicked an unsuspecting trashcan. hard. with his bad leg.
"--oh, for fuck's sake !!"
"angry, are we?" antigone's voice seemed to come from nowhere as she reclined languidly against a grecian pillar. "just think, it could be worse. it could be your life on the line." she spoke with uncharacteristic jest steeped in an ironic sarcasm. she was still pretending that she was looking forward to going back into the arena, but anyone this close to the games knew that her supposed enthusiasm was a farce. she wasn't as terrified as some of the other tributes, but she sure as hell wasn't happy about being in the public eye again. however, she knew better than to make known her distaste. she couldn't afford being seen as ungrateful by potential sponsors.
as she sauntered towards him, she glanced over either shoulder to see who could be listening to their exchange. her threatening gaze made several folks lower their chin and make for the nearest exit. "and look on the bright side— you won't have to keep me updated on the tributes this year. i'll be able to get the inside scoop myself." antigone so rarely approached conversations with this kind of levity or humor, but she figured it was the least she could do to distract icarus and any onlookers from his outburst. the two of them had also developed a rapport over the years by swapping secrets about tributes and sponsors. "i wonder who you'll be talking to on the outside about my performance, hmm? make sure to put in a good word for me."
antigone closed the distance between them, making them close enough to have an actual conversation. icarus certainly wasn't the only person feeling this way, but antigone saw the situation from a different angle. "it makes sense if you think about it. we've always been a liability. it's risky giving so much power to people from the districts. who knows what kind of havoc one rogue tribute could wreak?" she'd seen it before— a tribute too sympathetic, or too defiant, threatening to make people see them as more than just meat. "i'm almost surprised he hasn't done it sooner. to let us build our own pyre and strap each other to it."
who: hani jang & open where: inside the victor holding pen, right before the reaping
“Bullshit,” she muttered under her breath for what felt like the tenth time, hands flexing restlessly at her sides. “Absolute, desperate, dying-empire bullshit.”
The other victors were surely hovering in their own pockets of dread, but Hani couldn’t sit still long enough to pretend she wasn’t unraveling. Snow’s grand announcement still rang in her ears; victors, all of them, back on the chopping block to prove the Capitol still had its claws. A week of surveillance hadn’t dulled the panic in her chest - it had only sharpened it.
She exhaled hard, bouncing once on her heels. Angry. So angry. But underneath it, coiled tight in her spine, was the truth she’d rather choke on than name: Hani wasn’t sure she’d survive being chosen again.
antigone stood motionless, arms crossed over her chest, staring intently at the stage before them. she and the team from district two had discussed every possible outcome in the week prior, even the unlikely ones, such as another last-minute twist. in all likelihood, everything would go according to plan.
yet, a whisper of alarm remained. the hair on the back of her neck stood taut as the primitive parts of her brain screamed "danger." perhaps it was because so many eyes were on her. as an older victor, her golden years were gone and she'd long since retreated to the privacy of her cabin while some other poor souls inherited the spotlight. these two instincts were waging war inside of her, but nothing about her visage betrayed this. on the outside, she was calm and collected as ever.
"steady yourself," antigone muttered through still lips, hoping the cameras won't catch their exchange. "don't let them see you squirm. we know how this will go," her voice was a still lake, not even a pebble rippling the surface. "it will be over soon."
Florence and the Machine, from Blinding

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theodore roethke, the exorcism
Colossus © Caroline Dietl / Personal Work
willa fitzgerald as DR. DANIELLE SIMMS
PULSE 1x01 - ABBY

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( willa fitzgerald , cis woman , she/her ) that’s MADGE UNDERSEE, the THIRTY-FIVE year old MAYOR’S DAUGHTER & MEDIC from DISTRICT 12. they’re so lucky to be in the capitol for such a special hunger games. they’ve been here for long enough to gain a reputation for being so RELIABLE, and simultaneously SUBDUED. they remind me of devoting your life to caregiving for your mother, trading your mischief for responsibility, fingertips stained by wild strawberries, mourning the loss of your girlhood, hiding your true personality from the world, which makes sense since they’re always listening to KEEPER OF THE SHEPHERD by hannah frances. let’s hope they’re up for all this work ahead of them this year . — jean . twenty5 . they/she . cst . suicide/sh .
visage ᯽ aesthetic ᯽ words
(via JHALAL DRUT: Meiko Kaji)
Chiyoh HANNIBAL (2013-2015)
( tao okamoto , cis woman , she/her ) did you see them ?! that was ANTIGONE SATO, the winner of the 68TH hunger games. they’re back for the 92nd games as a TRIBUTE, and you know they’re one of my favourites! the FORTY-TWO year old brought such honour to DISTRICT 2 when they won their games by PICKING OFF OTHER TRIBUTES ONE-BY-ONE WITH LONG-RANGE WEAPONS. they’re known all over panem for being so ANALYTICAL despite being so CRUEL. they remind me of a rage that’s quiet and precise, a lone wolf stalking behind the pack, the taste of someone else’s blood in your mouth, the stillness of your breath before you pull the trigger, hunting for sport rather than necessity and when i think of them, i think of COLD AT NIGHT by the mountain goats . — jean . twenty5 . they/she . cst . suicide/sh .
visage ⊹ aesthetic ⊹ words