Traversing the galaxy for intergalactic travels to Pigfarts!
this should be one of those, “mandatory reblog” posts for the starkid fandom because like, this is where Starkid comes from…
We are all of us united, both victors and vanquished, in serving a common purpose.
the hunger games/lord of the rings
"The journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take."
Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open, the sun will rise.
She hadn’t mourned. Not at first and not in public. They had known what they were getting into the moment they’d allied with Haymitch to keep Peeta and Katniss alive. They had talked about it lightly. Death wasn’t something to fear. They were victors, after all. They had faced certain death and won. And worse than the Games, they had faced the Capitol. They had been their little playthings. A rich citizen’s accessory. They had learned death wasn’t the worst life had to offer. Because their lives had been cruel.
But they had each other. He sat next to her the evening she learned of her family’s death. The news came the day after she’d let her temper get the best of her and had beat the highest bidder an inch from life. After that day she’d learned to bottle everything in when it came to the Capitol — at least for awhile. She had stood next to him for every minute of Annie’s Games. She remembered how he clutched her arm as he mumbled instructions to his beloved through the screen.
Life had been brutal and so they became brutal. But he had always had the charm to smooth his roughness. She didn’t. She was calloused and genuine, something she’d learn she couldn’t hide. Not anymore.
Silent allies that were strong apart, but unstoppable together. Their bond protected them and their anger propelled them. Becoming an active part of a revolution they craved was only natural. Her stay in the Capitol broke her in ways she couldn’t even begin to describe, but from the moment the Rebels had rescued her and the others she began to see hope again.
And then he was gone. And she was angry. At him. How could he have been so foolish? He had a young, hardly stable wife to protect. He had responsibilities and he had continued to risk his life. She’d always swore his passion would get him killed. And she had been right. But he had died an honorable death, at least that’s what everyone said. But what does everyone know? Many tributes had died “honorable” deaths as well, but death was still dead. Still gone.
She’d watched Annie and the others mourn in their own way and she felt for them. But she’d been numb for the first few weeks. It wasn’t until she ended up back at home, back in District Seven. After the war was over. Casualties were counted. Coin was dead. Life was slowly starting to get back to normal. That’s when she cracked. He was gone. Her alliance. Her confidant. Her equal. Her friend.
We swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage and sacrifice.
if you’re still breathing, you’re the lucky ones
because most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs