#inbreeze

[publicabsent]

@inbreeze. / continued.

the freckled avox pulls a face at lucy gray's joking question, her comprehension of things like jokes being lackluster at best. she couldn't really understand most of the situation the other describes -- the idea of anyone, even one with ill intentions, putting forth so much effort for her is eerie. even before, when she lived in the capitol, when she had a voice to use should she want to, she was othered. a bizarre creature, looking too district to be normal & too normal to be exotic. her mother's harshest punishment & deepest shame. 'i think attempted murder counts,' the brunette signs.

'everyone likes to tell me their stories. they aren't always that interesting, you know.' it's true; sure, everyone here has their special tragedies, but so rarely do they involve so many twists & turns. the brunette is nearly embarrassed to admit how interested she is.

[thegcng-arch]

"it gets blocked up in my mouth ... i don't say it no good."

@inbreeze ft. charlie.

[nepoboyfriend]

@inbreeze: "sorry, did you want to be alone?"

someone left the door to the green room wide open. it was probably him, he forgets sometimes. adam's having doing his pre-show routine. huffing on a vape (menthol - they don't let him smoke in the building) and pacing around in a circle absentmindedly. it keeps him focused.

but he doesn't mind company. exhaling, he shrugs through the cloud of haze. "nah, i'm doing fuck-all right now. you can hang out here if you want."

[contradictivs]

Comfortable silence had settled over them a couple of minutes prior. The soft murmur of the other cafe patrons and the baristas working filling in as comfortable background noise. It was another moment of quiet before he was gently pushing his plate and part of the muffin he had toward her. "Want some before I finish it?" / @inbreeze ; sc.

[fals3nd]

@inbreeze gets nancy drew !

it's a cute little town - - - at least there's that. nancy has been stranded in way worse places. and there's a library that looks pretty open, so she pushes the door and looks for a friendly face. looks can always be deceiving, of course, but if one thing has always held true in nancy's life it's that small town librarians are pretty good people. library volunteers, too, she doesn't judge.

"hey, sorry," a hand swipes cooling sweat ( thank god for air conditioning ) from her forehead and a red ponytail swings behind her head as nancy smiles at the woman behind the desk, "this is not at all a library question, but is there a good tow company in town? my car broke down down the street."

[bonsaibadass]

🥋 @inbreeze, we shouldn't stick around here.

if she had known that the entirety of cobra kai would show up here she would've told anthony to catch a ride from one of his friends. unfortunately, she made a promise to him. and she's been trying to make a better habit of keeping those. she shakes her head in somewhat of a response, refusing to pull her eyes away from the book on her lap. she wasn't going to give them the time of day. " i'm not worried about it. " lies. the girl is always bothered by their presence. she's just gotten better at hiding it. " i told anthony he could spend some more time here with his friends. he rarely ever leaves his room to go outside and get some fresh air. so... can we just stick around for another hour or so? i'm sure it'll go by fast. "

[vitalphenomena]

SPIRIT GETS LONELY IN THE VICTOR’S VILLAGE. She and Burns have drifted apart — perhaps because they know each other so well, perhaps because they see all the dark, ugly parts of one another. 

It’s not that District Three has a complete shortage of victors, or anything like that; it’s not that she’s in a ghost town. But Spirit has no mother, no father, no partner or spouse, no children. Spirit is twenty-five years old and still remarkably haunted by something that happened a decade ago.

It’s a real bummer, frankly.

So people steer clear. 

It’s made sheltering L.ucy Gra.y Bai.rd so, so much easier. 

@inbreeze asks, over a dinner more luxurious than Spirit would ever prepare on her own: what was it like? 

Nobody’s asked Spirit what it was like in a long, long time. There have been ten, maybe eleven Hunger Games since Spirit won. There are more compelling sob stories now than hers as the Games’ nature continues to evolve, to dramaticize and romanticize its victims and “victors.” 

“I think you already know,” Spirit finally says, after taking a long drink from her wine glass. “And I don’t know if telling you what it’s like to kill would help you sleep any better at night.” 

Yikes.

“That is what you’re actually asking, right? What it was like to become a murderer.” Spirit projects onto Lucy Gray what morbid curiosities have been expressed to her over the years.

[rcjoice]

❛  do you want to tell me about your day?  ❜

caring prompts

there's a snort of laughter that comes out before he can even think to stop it. that was rude, wasn't it? "well, no, not really." talking about it made it feel real, and making something feel real was not in his forte. "would you like to tell me about yours? might make me feel better." he gives her a sheepish grin, shrugging a little bit. "i mean, if you wanna. you don't have to say anything. we can just sit here." that'd be nice, wouldn't it? just to enjoy each other's company and pretend nothing like his day wasn't utter dogshit. "come on, tell me about what you did today. i'm sure it's a lot better than what i did. and i like listening to you talk more than i like hearing myself talk. and you know i love hearing myself talk."

@inbreeze

[mvnces]

🌸  to  offer  my  muse  a  flower. for silas 🥺

They were out in some field again. It seemed to be the usual place for them to go at the end of a long day — Somewhere to sit in the peace and soft background noise of nature. There were some days where Silas would follow Lucy, offer up a word or two of his own and be more engaged. Other days, most days, he would simply hang back and sit along the trees and enjoy the peace. Mildly watching Lucy in whatever she was doing.

He had ended up venturing further into the field to follow the girl along that day. A couple steps behind and peering over her shoulder.

Suddenly, a flower is being offered to him and Silas drew back in surprise at the sudden movement. Eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as eyes flickered down to the plant being held out to him. He almost looked confused. But, to be fair, it had been who knew how long since anyone outside of Lucy had offered him anything. Especially as an act of kindness.

A soft, raspy noise came from him as he reached up to take the flower. It was his initial attempt at trying to say thank you. Vocal cords scratchy from disuse but he was trying his best.

[luckhissoul]

it's a moments reprieve, just that a moment. he's eager to seize it. he knows that once he's found he'll be dragged back. it always happened. but lately he's been feeling the tightness of a leash more and more, eager to snap it. only somehow he never did it. maybe he couldn't leave, something told him that he was more out of options than anything else. and yet moments like this told him that he was being a coward, there was a way out. the performance though -that had taken his mind off of the whole thing for a while. everyone knew about lucy gray and it was about time he met her. they had both been dragged about the captiol the past couple of games, like puppets on strings. who held her's?, he wondered. who made her dance and sing while the whole world seemed to decay?

he was admitted to her backstage dressing room easily enough. he was known around here. a reputation that he didn't like much. seen as if he were nothing but a pet, a turning in his stomach almost made him back out. but he felt eager to meet her. eager to shake hands with someone - but that was stupid, wasn't it? someone that got it? once the door opens and he's announced to her he offers her a smile, taking a step in the room. he's brought a small bouquet. some etiquette that he's learned from the captiol. sometimes he feels like he's learned too much here. he wondered what district 11 looks like, how it feels ot be there. he never thought he'd miss the farm!

"i've been meaning to see you perform since i got to the capitol." he says, presenting her with the flowers and and easy smile. - @inbreeze

[inspotlight]

❝    no    more    picking    fights    for    something    stupid,    or    saying    that    you    like    his    crappy    music.    let's    be    honest,    girl,    that    boy    was    useless.    but    it's    a    win    if    he's    the    one    you're    losing...    ❞

@inbreeze requested: spotify wrapped meme — #44 texts go green by kylie cantrall

[moonphascs]

[ scars ] sender gently tracing receiver's scars. for Peeta

caring prompts

they had spent too many nights like this, sitting under the glittering sky, recounting the hours of their lives. good, bad, beautiful, ugly. any moment that was his, was hers, too. every moment that he had experienced, he wants her to live in, too. to share his memories was to share himself, and what did lucy gray deserve other than every thing he had to give? they end up here more nights than not, baring their souls to each other, because who else understood what it was like? they both face a reality neither will every fully recover from. the scars on their hearts and on their flesh reveals that while time heals wounds, it did nothing to break down the ugliness of those memories. it's one of these nights that he feels ghostly fingers run along a nasty scar that run up his forearm. one that was given to him in his games, one that showed he had made it out in (mostly) one piece. she's cold, barely there, but still he feels the softness radiating off her in waves. softness that spoke an easy whisper of care, of reverence almost. they both wore scars like shameful crowns, a sign of what they've survived. "do yours still hurt sometimes?" was she at least free in this lifetime?

@inbreeze

[thegcng-arch]

The other day my mom said Dennis was her least favorite sunny character, and I was about to argue but realized basically everything I love about Dennis is from your portrayal. So like, it’s pretty epic. You made me love the evil she/he/they

see i used to be a dennis hater, a real dennis despiser. and idk what happened or what episode it really was ( tbh i think it was how mac got fat ) but i became a dennis lover. i decided that he has a lot more depth than we see in the show. means a lot that you see it too now <3

how's my portrayal?, accepting, @inbreeze.

[deathsbecome]

@inbreeze from here

since winning her games and returning home, addy spends a lot of time on her own, separated from others. scared to make connections, scared to slip up somehow. so she enjoys her walks away from everyone, and damn near whips around at the other voice, even if it isn't scolding. she relaxes a little, figuring it was just some passerby who hadn't realized who it was. she chuckled, trying to make a joke, "i think i'll survive." she's survived worse.

"besides, you're out here, too."

[65ths]

"i wish i could've heard it. i know you must have had quite the lovely voice." music has been part of his life as much as fishing has. shanties pass the time on boats, during long waits, and rhymes make up whole school days. wade's own father was a musician, had himself a little horn and not too much time ever passed without it having been played somewhere in the victor's village. "i don't think that's something even he's capable of."

his eyebrow raises, hands sliding into his lap tugging at each end of the small piece of rope-- the start to a mindless process. "i didn't realize district 13 was watching the rest of us. you get pretty impressive connection considering you live underground." he tries not to dwell on the thoughts of his popularity-- not now, not when it's that popularity that has to lead to... his fingers make quick work of the rope.

⎯⎯⎯⎯ continued from here / @inbreeze

[pridef0und]

“   okay ,   i  swear  this  is  not  what  it  looks  like .   ” for the waitress

okay, this isn't the weirdest thing she's seen all week. god, she hates that her week has consisted of things weirder than someone digging through a dumpster. but that's par for the course when it comes to knowing charlie, right? even if unwillingly so.

arms fold across her chest, eyebrows quirking curiously. ❝ really? ❞ the waitress questions, lips briefly pursing. oh, yeah. she's totally judging @inbreeze. she knows, she knows, judgement shouldn't be cast by a walking train wreck like herself. her sponsor tells her that on a monthly basis, and yet . . . ❝ because it looks like you're rooting through our garbage. ❞

chipped fingernails tap aimlessly and impatiently against biceps. ❝ you know there's, like . . . a million food pantries in this city, right? a million more thrift shops, which is kinda shitty when you think about it. ❞ a dry, humorless snort slips past her lips. after a moment, however, expression softens a smidge. ❝ listen. if you need something to eat, i can grab you something. on the house. but we don't sell shirts that smell like piss, so. can't help you if that's what you're looking for. ❞