DIXIE FLATLINE , THE REBELLION’S ANTHEM . a singer , grown up on cybernetic pop - stars , desperate to try it for herself . her big brother fought with the underground rebellion , working against the powers of GENESIS , and soon after , bright - eyed dixie found herself in the ranks , too .
her campfire songs spread like wildfire , and soon , she retires from the front lines entirely ; choosing instead , as she’s enthused to do , to produce music meant to raise the spirits of those who would fight against the overlords in their diamond towers .
lulu introduces you to her - not as a one - night thing , she notices how lonely you are , burning through girl after girl - and the two of you hit it off instantly . you fall , and you fall hard .
but she knows she’s got a job to do - says tell you what ; when we’ve blown those fuckers out of the sky , when there’s peace , we can go settle down together in the countryside , ‘kay ? just . . . wait for me , please .
sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ .
DIXIE FLATLINE is was a songwriter , fighting who fought with some of your closest friends , in her own way . she is was a spark of inspiration in a pretty dismal world ; her presence lights lit up every room she is was in .
ᴀ ʏᴇᴀʀ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ , sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ .
the SENSO droids keeping the revolution in control thought that if they cut out the heart , the fighters would bleed out . she knew better , though - those nearby heard her last words , corroborated claims , set in stone .
“ you know , taking me out isn’t going to stop this machine . if you kill me , it won’t silence me . i will not blow out like a candle , i will explode . ”
ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ , ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴀɪɴ ᴡᴀs sᴘʟᴀᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀғғɪᴛɪ - ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡᴀʟʟ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ .
her death hit you hard . she was your bet , your inspiration , a spark in your heart as you wandered , aimless , and now without her . . . you hadn’t truly thought about a future without her . you aren’t interested in commitment , not yet ( maybe not ever ) . you still mourn .
but she was right - the rebellion never forgot her . where once was blood on an unremarkable shop side , is now a massive mural of a songbird - deep blues , blacks , greys , and gold . her songs are still sung - under the breath of infantry , or on stages , even at funerals of those who died fighting . she’s still here .
sʜᴇ’s ᴊᴜsᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ .
CONTACTING . . . . . . . . . . @heslaughter
vaporwave
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
dededos
areudirty
romaincrisis
