seen from T1
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Sweden
seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from Italy
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from Italy
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seen from United States
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seen from China
seen from Ireland
YOUR CAPITOL SALUTES YOU, DAHLIA SOL OF DISTRICT SIX.
Dahlia has never been satisfied. Not with her family, not with her district, not with her life. She’s spent the last twenty-two years trying anything and everything to improve her circumstances, terrorizing the people around her in the process, but never quite finding what she’s wanted from District Six. “Oh my God,” she thought as the train pulled away from the station. “I escaped.”
ZENDAYA COLEMAN. TWENTY-TWO. SHE/HER. TAKEN.
no use hiding now
i’ve already p l a y e d my c a r d s
this time i’m not trying to survive
i just hope the
d i s t r i c t s
do
semi-selective & independent johanna mason - handpicked by ella.
starter call ! varying lengths.
good luck, girl on fire.
It was the Victor Ball of the Eighty-Forth Annual Hunger Games and Trixie had been having the time of her life for a while. All eyes had been on her and although Agatha had tried to keep an eye not he fourteen year old, Trixie kept slipping away from her mentor. She was a victor now, that made her invincible right?
It took most of the night for the girl to realize just how wrong she was when an older sponsor couldn’t take no for no and had tried to pull her out to the balcony of the Preisdent’s mansion ‘to talk’. She knew better. Between the alcohol on his breath and the way his hands refused to stay off of her small frame, she knew he didn’t want to talk. She’d stamped on his foot and run off, down the stairs and out of the building as the sponsor was left cursing after the young teenager.
She disappeared into the President’s gardens, surrounded by roses she ran until she found a place to hide. She crawled between the bushes, ignoring as thorns tore and ripped at her skin. Her knees were pulled to her chest as she let a sob rip from her midsection. How naive could she have been? She should have known better, should have listened to Agatha. She heard someone coming and quickly covered her mouth, trying to quell and silence the sobs as tears flowed down her cheeks and onto the silken material of her Capitol made dress.
@kyanne-flint12
Stars fall without sound Some weep helpless, day through night Ever wondering how Never knowing why ...
multimuse, multifandom, highly triggering, priv.sel. adored by hannah
I breathe in the smell of SNOW-DAMPENED LEATHER and SMOKE and APPLES, the smell of all those wintry days we shared before the Games.
“First, we must set the ground stage of PANEM, representing the BOURGEOISE. Described as ‘the class of modern CAPITALISM,’ the Bourgeoise are the ‘owners of the means of SOCIAL PRODUCTION and employers of wage-labour’ (MARX 657). The districts do manual labor, producing LABOUR, that Panem benefits from. Each district is a specific RESOURCE that gets funneled to the Capitol, little of it used within the DISTRICT itself. In this sense, Panem becomes the employer & OWNER of the means of social production. This system is EXAGGERATED by the fact that if one does not comply and instead REBELS against the system, they are faced with DEATH.” // @marxistregime // thg. canon & oc multi-muse.
* ( penned by tot. ) *
