#thelucygray

Tall statue shifts in the slightest, but his head turning in the brunette's direction has his full attention resting on her side profile. "What does that mean?" Voice questions softly ; but offense practically soaking Coriolanus' tone. "The woods?" Light brows crease as it was the first memory deeply implanted into his skull that revives itself after her response, yet it was like it meant nothing now. From the way he's taking it. For her sake, however, maybe he's jumping to mere conclusions. "I thought you had the woods and all the time in the world to offer me, Lucy Gray." Reminding her of that & then a pause as blues studied the songbird's features before he'd continue, "Change of heart?"

❝ Your charm means nothing when you stand before someone who can rip you to pieces by simply lifting you up. ❞

make coryo awkward meme. || accepting.

make coryo awkward meme. || accepting.

He smelled like the forest, feeling the affects of the forest, freezing at nights becoming another forest affect. The weather had dropped several more degrees colder tonight and no matter how tight he confined himself to the blankets his body was still trembling, hands clutching the material tighter and tighter. Thinks eventually his brain will shut off once he grows accustomed to it like usual, but to no avail he can't commit to it any longer. It was an awkward decision as he flipped the blanket off, moving to get up from his makeshift bed, pausing to decide if he's– what exactly? Is brave the terminology? No, that'd be ridiculous.

Yet, there he froze before another chill crept up his spine and he continued to move until he was standing and walking over to the tiny bed @thelucygray was curled up on. "Lucy Gray," he quietly started, "are you cold?" Questioning, genuinely wanting to know if she's freezing as much as him, cold hand reaching out to touch her neck to imply why he's here. "Can I squeeze in behind you-" Gesturing hesitantly in the dark to the limited space behind her next to the wall before the cold air urges him to. Carefully crawls over top of her and quickly finds himself squished up between her and the wall. Finding out how terribly he underestimated things as he embarrassingly looked towards the wall and then to her.

there's a WAR OUTSIDE these walls. and these motherfuckers don't even know about it yet. safe, snug... they drag them out before the cameras. make a mockery of their humanity. why? they dared to starve their masters, and like dogs, they've been made to come to heel. it's a brutal space to live within, and honestly, rue's like, shocked when her name is pulled.

DISTRICT 9. rue bennett.

they drag them upon a train, headed towards the capitol. as high as she'd been when dragged up to the stage, her expression blank-eyed and perhaps a little hopeless. chained as they wanted, broken as they wanted, but unnervingly staring at the camera, then, wondering and waiting if they even saw them as HUMAN to begin with. another girl's in the compartment with her, how this place alone feels more lush than any place she's survived before alone... a girl in a dress, coloured brightly, her gaze peels and lifts to meet her own. it's her. a victor. and somehow, that makes it all the more real.

"you're the singer. lucy." it's not a question. there'd been something in her performative march when she'd been there to win her own, that beautiful retribution played out towards a girl who'd clearly found it all too EXCITING to see this girl be called as tribute. she deserved it. a snake and a father who'd rigged it all, the story's so cliché it hurts, and who could blame her for wanting a splash for her indignity? but then she'd won... and it'd been all too glorious, then. "guess we're both in it now."

He'd been staring down into the dark and bottomless abyss for some time, unaware that he'd indeed been doing so. He wondered how he appeared to the creatures peering back up to him from the depths and imagined them cocking their monstrous heads back and forth at his blue eyes. Unknown creatures used to terrify Coriolanus, as recently as when he'd walked through the woods and swam in the lake with the Covey in District Twelve, but now he hardly paid any mind to them. He'd go so far as to consider them his allies. Anything that could make him untouchable.

Had he already taken the jump? Maybe he'd been pushed. Perhaps he'd been passing through it for years and had gotten used to it, the air rushing past his face.