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                                                 SURVIVORS

                                                            indie multi-muse

[unafraidofliving-blog]

   “Well he lost his head a few years after so I figure a leg doesn’t     matter in the grand scheme of things.”

She’s perfected this act: talking to others as if her father’s brutal death no longer triggers even an ounce of emotion within her. The truth, of course, is that if she shows even an ounce of emotion, she’ll crumble. It’s easier to shut down rather than embrace how she feels; it’s a powder keg that’s near close to exploding, and she’s not going to spark whatever’s left of the fuse.

A quick change of topic is in order, and the switch is almost seamless.

   “D’you ever get phantom limb? Daddy used to feel his leg there     all the time. When it hurt, he had to stab himself in the fake-foot     so he’d remember it’s not real. You stabbed your foot yet? Want     me to do it for ya? Get it over with quick?”

   Peeta is genuinely surprised by the honesty & pauses to marvel    at curiosity ; more used to gawking, he is, or murmurs to friends    behind hands. This he can handle.            “Really? I’m sorry he lost it, too.” A pause as Peeta, made            brave by the mutual understanding, lifts his pant leg a little           higher. “It hurts right – there, sometimes,” a gesture, “but           usually it kind of feels sore right against the prosthetic.” 

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whowails

      “We should make bets.”

She may be one of the most willing (and arguably one of the nicest) mentors among the older students, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy watching newbies get their asses kicked. There’s something amusing about watching them scramble to pick up combat technique. Of course, she’s concerned and feels a sort of irritating desire to help them train, but when one kid takes a fast -swinging punching bag to the face, she can’t resist a snort of laughter.

       “Who d’ya think’s going down first when         they’re up against each other? My money’s         on punch-bag, over there.”

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She resists the urge to reach out and touch where the prosthetic meets real flesh. She’s not even half the healer her father was -- not even half the healer her sister is -- but she’s seen amputations before, and the caring streak she’s inherited from her father leaves her with a natural curiosity and a need to see how the wound has healed. And, of course, part of her just wants to see it.

   “’S not so weird. My dad lost a leg too. Got injured on a     mission. It got infected. Had to cut it off. Does it ever hurt?”

open / verse members. 

         ❛    it’s okay if you’re staring at it.   ❜    voice quiet, jaw relaxed ; peeta does mind, though he can’t provide enough blame to garner a real sense of bitterness. cue a gentle gesture as he bunches up his pant leg to reveal a larger portion of the prosthetic - a halfhearted laugh follows, almost practiced in nature.        ❛    pretty weird, i know.   ❜ 

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does anyone in the alcott academy verse want a starter?

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ACCEPTED: UNAFRAIDOFLIVING

NAME: Maggie Greene

AGE: 21

FACECLAIM: Lauren Cohan

Keep reading

[unafraidofliving-blog]

                           THE ALCOTT ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE

    Above ground, the Alcott Academy appears a University-esque school for elite scholars, funded by the government and thereby a valued preparation for government jobs. Sink a few stories BELOW, though, and find the truth : 

                                       the Alcott Academy is a school for SPIES.

Recently, though, the Academy has been under attack. A new wave of agents undercover for the Academy’s only enemy have emerged ; they’re leaking through security & mastering betrayal. The end goal? The entire Alcott Academy Student body, D E A D.                                     WHO ARE YOU SPYING ON?

                                     PLOT.    RULES.    NAVIGATION.    APPLY. 

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   “Well we don’t make a habit of going too far. You never     know who’s out there nowadays. But a few of us have     been out pretty far to look for people and supplies --     you can ask the team if they’ve seen a kid. It’s a long     shot, though. I think they’d’a brought him back if they     did. Maybe if you know the kinda place he might’a     headed, we can send out people to find him.”

“Mic. I get it. You have to be careful. You can never tell what people have done to stay alive. I’ve done enough,” she said. There had been some omissions but the majority of what she had said was true. “If you have people, they might have seen the kid. I don’t plan on staying but I’d like to ask them at least. He can take care of himself but I want to know he’s okay. That’s all I’m going to ask for.” 

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favourite character meme » four relationships [¼] ↳maggie/beth

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college is done for the summer! i can return! apologies for the hiatus.

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ooc;

I’m only gonna be inactive here for like another week and a half/two weeks, tops. We’re touring the play I’m in this week and then next week there’s a show at our own theatre, and in between all that I have a shit load of uni deadlines, family drama and other shit to do so as you can tell I’m pretty swamped. I can’t wait to be back. In the mean time, if I have time to lurk, it’s here. So if you like THG, please follow me there. He’s been my baby for a long time and I can easily throw him into a TWD verse (it’s planned/thought out but not written up yet). So yeah. I’ll be back.

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(◡‿◡✿) 

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Endless list of favorite relationships: [1/∞] Maggie Greene and Carl Grimes ■  “Lori? Lori Grimes? Rick sent me, you gotta come now. There’s been an accident, Carl’s been shot. He’s still alive, but you gotta come now.”

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“You should stop with that train of thought before  you embarrass yourself, sweetie. You got more  hope killin’ a rock.”

“Well, if you want me to plan ways of killing you, then I will.”

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   “Don’t be so sure. Zombies exist, y’know? Makes me think     pretty much anything’s possible. Maybe we’re all gonna get     superpowers. Maybe mine’ll be fixing electric things. What’ll     yours be? You strike me as a kid who’d wanna fly.”

a small smile twitches at the corner of his lips, a chuckle wishing to escape the chambers of his chest, but he restrains the urge by forcing it away.  “looking at a broken clock isn’t  going to make it work,” he finds himself joking, taking a seat beside the other.