sweetlittlesongbird-blog

[sweetlittlesongbird-blog]

  On days when it was raining, and Rue would have to walk home in the rain, she'd be drenched to her very marrow by the time she reached her porch. But what was always waiting for her right on the other side of the door was a tall, steaming mug of hot chocolate; she'd bask in its sweet aromatic steam and clutch it close to her chest, and let it fill her with a pleasant, creamy warmth unlike any other. It made Rue feel at one with the world, and it united her with even the furious downpour which had seen her home. This feeling of complacency and warmth was similar to what she felt at Marissa's compliment. Rue's cheeks grew a furious red and her smile was inescapable, as she nibbled on the edge of her treat. "Oh, you're just saying that," she gushed. "But thank you, all the same. Nothing's as good as Mellark's, but..." But the compliment that she could even compare to such heaven... Rue's day grew a little brighter, and she felt all hot-chocolatey. 

  Snapping from her reverie, she followed her friend over to her spanning photographic wall. It was a complex web of memories that Rue looked upon with soft eyes; Marissa's entire life spanned before her, creeping, waiting to be continued in the next frame. When she was directed to one very familiar face, her eyes grew wide as her smile. "Oh my gosh -- it is!" Rue squealed, peering at the photo of her young self. "It is me! Ohmygosh! I even remember when this was taken. I never thought -- I never knew -- oh my gosh!" Her gaze pinballed between Marissa and the photograph, almost unable to believe it. Another little thing, brightening the day.

  "Looks like we go way back!" she exclaimed, beaming at her fine red-headed friend. "Way, way back. I mean, I knew you and my cousin went way back, but -- I'm so gonna punch him for never introducing us properly." She never would, of course. Rue loved Thresh too entirely to punch him -- hard. But seeing this photograph was wonderful and warming, because it made Rue feel like a part of something far-reaching, like the see. Like a family she never even knew she had. "Oh my gosh..."

The Unsung Sweet || Rue & Marissa

[sweetlittlesongbird-blog]

OHMIGOD. Shoes. http://asos.to/YsTgcJ 

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Why? 'Cause it's all sun-shiny and lovely, like you?

I am literally counting the days. The hours, even! I wanna bust out that yellow swimsuit... jam on the beach... it's gonna be awesome.

Ah how i love summer!

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Work. School. Cheer. Choir. Ohmigod. I'mma catch the flu.

Or the blues. Or rhythm, even. Or... soul? I'mma catch something.

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Your mouth is smiling. But your eyes are't.

I'm not gonna push, 'cause I know some things are best kept to yourself. If only for your own sanity. But the offer's always standing. Take care of yourself, okay?

Rumour has it that Everdeen and little Mellark got married and already have a bun in the oven.

What? No. No. I’m fine. I’m always fine. Don’t worry about me. See. I’m smiling!

Thank you though. I truly appreciate your offer. 

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Y'know what..?

You're on, Hawthorne the Elder. By the end of this week I will have an entire library of amazing, mind-blowing music and you will officially be converted to the fantastical world of sound. 

Drums. Indie rock. Got it memorized. I won't let you down. But you've gotta be open, okay? Music's like that. You have to approach it with absolutely zero expectations and a clean slate. Otherwise no one gets doughnuts.

I guess…

Maybe I haven’t got the ear. The gifted ear that all musicians were given by the musical fairies. I’m just not great at finding good music.

Ok, I have a proposition for you. Find me some mindblowing music by the end of the week and I’ll buy you whatever takeaway you like, plus one of those killer doughnuts from nine. If you can’t then you have to take me. Deal?

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Hey, yo, Availia; what's wrong? I mean, I know some people aren't into marriage and stuff, but there's that, then there's... dejection. 

Did something happen? Because if you need to talk to someone, or even just talk at someone, I'm always here. And I come with the added bonus of comfort food.

Rumour has it that Everdeen and little Mellark got married and already have a bun in the oven.

Well, I don’t really speak to them so that’s kind of hard to do. It’s not like I can be all ‘oh hey I heard you got hitched, congrats!’ 

That’s good, Rue. You hold on to that for as long as you possibly can.

You do that. I’ll see you around.

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We should be congratulating them, not meeeee! This is the single greatest thing to happen in the history of Panem!

See, everyone thinks I'm such a kid for believing in love, and magic, and fairy tales  But now we have our very own fairytale to tell. Ooooh my gosh. I'm just -- wowzers.

I have to call Prim!

Rumour has it that Everdeen and little Mellark got married and already have a bun in the oven.

That’s what I heard. Congratulations?

[sweetlittlesongbird-blog]

Oh, I know! Katniss is so cool. Did you hear about her and Peeta?! It's the sweetest thing ever, right?

Okay, no way. I refuse to accept that. You know why? Because every song, every melody has something different to it! Orchestras will never play the same pieces twice the same way, and you'll never hear a song the same way every time you hear it! Indie rock has its charms, absolutely -- it makes up an exact nine percent of my iTunes library. Maybe you just haven't found your musical roots yet, Mister Hawthorne.

Yeah, she’s Katniss’ sister. She gets on better with my brother really.

I don’t know, music isn’t really my thing. I like it sure but I’m no expert. A lot of drums always work well for me, that and some killer guitar vocals. I guess I’m sort of an ‘indie rock’ kind of guy.

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There must be something seriously delicious in the air, 'cause everyone's getting married! Princesses are meeting their Princes, and soon enough, they're gonna ride on off to their castles in the clouds.

Congratulations, Panem! Have yourself a very happy ever after.

Can't wait for mine.

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They got -- and they're -- oh my god! 

Rumour has it that Everdeen and little Mellark got married and already have a bun in the oven.

You guys can stop bitching at them now. It’s their lives. They can do whatever the fuck they want. I mean, why does it even matter? They’re clearly happy. And if for some unknown reason things get fucked up along the way I’m sure they have people that will support them. 

Good lord. Even I know things are bad when I am the one defending them.

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You are actually such a cutie, oh my god

Oh -- oh my gosh. You're so sweet, thank you.

You made my day. 

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Don't know if you guys saw Google today, but they changed their logo in honour of Mama Africa herself!

Happy birthday to Miriam Makeba. You're a legend and an inspiration, and I'm proud to be listening to your sweet sounds all day.

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You speak to Prim? Oh, cool! Well, I should'a figured. The Hawthornes and the Everdeens are practically one big family, anyways. But I must be the same Rue!

And when it comes to music, I like a little of everything. Old stuff, new stuff... (red stuff, blue stuff -- heh...) as long as it's got soul, it's good with me. And it sounds to me what your drunken avenger needs is a whole lotta soul. How about you? You much of an oldies fan?

Rue. You sound a little familiar, I think maybe Prim mentioned you?

I’ll tell him that, maybe I’ll drop into the record store in five and buy him a few tracks. It really would make a change from the suicidal songs - and it’s not just him who feels suicidal afterwards. So you’re into the classics then? Or just music in general?

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  Eager to begin their tour, Rue scooped up her box of cookies and trailed behind Marissa, all the while staring in wonder about the house. It really was a lovely place, as tranquil and inviting as a library. It was orderly, but welcoming; Rue had never met Marissa's parents, but she imagined them to be somewhat serious and hard-working, but quiet and polite.

  Marissa's room was remarkable to Rue, because it always felt to the girl that being allowed into a person's inner sanctum was akin to being let into a little piece of their soul. Rue could count on her free hand the amount of people who had seen her own bedroom, while her other hand delved into her cookie box and plucked out a delicacy. Absently, Rue broke a cookie in half as she gazed around in amazement.

  "Your room's so nice," she said quietly, her eyes wandering over the little personal touches. "When I first saw you, I thought you were a lot like Belle, from Beauty and the Beast. 'Cause you're so smart and independent, and you have so much ahead of you, you know? But now I think you're like Ariel, because you have this total treasure trove of a pad -- and, you know, you got that awesome red hair goin' on." Rue smiled timidly as she bit into the corner of her cookie; with every person she met, she thought long and hard as to how they corresponded to the Princesses she knew and loved. The fact that Marissa was one of her favorites -- the notorious songbird of the sea, no less -- gave Rue that warm, golden feeling in her chest. As if she was sharing her baking with just the right person.

  Stuck on this revelation, Rue's eyebrows shot up as she held the box out. "I'm so sorry! You want a cookie?"

The Unsung Sweet || Rue & Marissa

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Oh, I know! Well, it's not like I know you. I know of you. I'm Rue. 

You know what the perfect cure for a death-lovin' drunk man is? Good music. You haven't lived until you've heard good music. Who know -- maybe if you blast him a little Buddy Holly, or some Beach Boys, or Beatles, or Etta, he might change his tune. Literally. Might even brighten up the whole neighborhood.

The funny thing is I used to be one of those kids, so I can’t really say much against them. I guess for now, but he’s harmless anyway. The songs he sings are really depressing though. Usually about death and things. Mom hates it…

I’m Gale by the way.

[sweetlittlesongbird-blog]

Oh, I agree! I mean, you don't really miss the screaming kids on their bikes until they're all crashed out somewhere, right? Sound keeps the earth a'turnin'. 

But at least your friendly neighborhood drunk's all pacified. For now.

I did wonder why the drunk that lives opposite wasn’t singing, or should I say wailing, this morning. I think I prefer noise.