ˢᵗᵒˡᵉⁿ 𝓁𝓊𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒷𝒾𝑒𝓈

*   twirls, ah ah soft or questioning 

&.        curious 

*   mayhaps ,,  arabella ,,

hey, you stole my line. { a smile, a genuine smile, pulled the corners of alex's lips heavenward as cerulean colored irises scanned the guitar in the other's arms. }  really? that's so cool. if it's okay with you──do you mind telling me more?

(  @morguesaint  )
            
            you're not the first person to tell me that.  [  a light tease comes from the brunette with a grateful smile as she rests her hand atop her guitar's body. ]    thank you. my blood and bones are made up'a music. me and my people, the covey. music connects us all.

(  @-ofsongbirds  )  (    wiress  watched  lucy gray  with  wide  and  interested  eyes,  she'd  never  left  three  until  the  games,  and  she  knew  the  glimpses  of  the  other  districts  she’d  gotten  on  the  victory  tour  didn’t  do  the  other  districts  justice    )  t - three!  the -  the  one  with  the -  (    she  paused  for  a  moment  before  making  several  clanking  and  machine  noises  with  her  mouth,  hands  moving  frantically  apart and  then  together  again.  it  was  hard  to  describe  three,  the  strange  metallicness   of  it,  the  machines,  the  gears    )

(  @tictoks  )
            
            's hard to describe all those years of adventurin' in a few words. hard to fit it all down in a song, too.  [  lucy gray's sigh is light with nostalgia, as she tilts her head back and looks toward the sky. ]    they're all so different, but they're all full of hardship and hurt and humans just like everyone. i spend a lotta time missin' the freedom we had back then.  (…)   which one are you from, again?

(  @drivensnows-  )
            
            i can see that in the stitchin' and the fabrics. it's a beautiful dress, looks like somethin' my momma would've liked too. she wouldn't have worn it herself but—-  it suits you most.   [  lucy gray still can't quite believe that the girl is standing in front of her now, in her home, far away from the glitz and the facades of the capitol. the brunette smirks, lifting a hand to tilt the crown of twigs adorning arabella's head. ]    as fervent 'n' free as a wildflower.  (…)   welcome to district twelve, arabella marigold.

(  @SNOWSHEIR  )
            
            i need  /you/  to listen to me when i tell you i don't like whatever's goin' on here now.   [  her voice hasn't been this stern since she demanded he believe she could win the games. back then, quietly she didn't believe she'd ever make it out of that arena. but he made sure she did. and she wanted to trust him now, but…  ]    coriolanus, please.   [  after a moment of hesitation, she steps toward him and tilts her chin up. ]    i want the truth. not just you tellin' me things'll be alright.

(  @drivensnows-  )
            
            i write when i'm inspired, darlin'. you'll just have to watch and wait 'til you hear me singin'.   [  lucy gray volleys right back with a playful tease, adding a wink as she swishes her shoulders side to side. then, her expression settles with a sincere, more serious understanding. ]    only real flowers will flourish in the time they know they have. you won't find any artifice along the right path. and you seem to be headin' in that direction, arabella marigold.
            
            /  he will be haunted til the day he dies,, and as he should be!!

──    ♰ @-ofsongbirds,
            
            you  plan  on  writing  me  a  song?   {  the  teasing  smile  that  runs  along  chapped  lips  hides  how the  repetition  runs  a  slight  shiver  down  the  spine  of  a  girl  with  no  songs  to  her  name,   the  warmth  of  the  overhead  sun  only  existing  by  the  look  lucy  gives  her.  }    the  capital  kills  every  wildflower  that  tries  growing  there.   they  bring  in  what  they  want,   let  the  others  wilt.   ( .. )   if  you  ask  me,   we'd  be  better  off  if  we  let  wild  things  find  the  ones  who  bother  understanding  them.
            
            *    foreshadowing  how  coryo  will  never  truly  get  away ,,  marigolds  will  follow  him  down.

(  @drivensnows-  )
            arabella marigold.   [  lucy gray muses, humming quietly underneath her echo of the other girl's name. a smile crosses her lips, eyes flicking up and down to take arabella in. ]   well, ain't your name just made up of a melody. my cousin, maude ivory, she likes to collect up flowers and twigs and all natural things. they're like sunshine. wild 'n' pretty little things you have to know how to take care of.  (…)   it suits you.
            
            /  she's a wild girl through and through,,  also,,,  been re-reading tbosas…  tigris uses dead marigolds to fix up coryo's shirt in the very first chapter.

──    ♰  @-ofsongbirds,
            
            the  line  is  made  up  of  graveyards.    {  public  hangings,   shows  of  death.   miracles  do  not  come  because  they  are  great,   they  come  drenched  in  the  blood  of  those  who  pay  for  crimes  they  never  even  committed,   sacrifices  for  a  game  that  doesn't  truly  exist.   importance  is  rooted  in  luck,  not  work.   snow  lands  on  top  while  everyone  else  freezes  below,   and  her  imprints  are  next  in  line.   her  revulsion  is  palapble  still  as  lucy  makes  the  move  of  comfort,   dirt-caked  nails  plucking  mindlessly  at  the  grass  below.  }   they  would  rather  sacrifice  each  other  than  stand  and  fight.   there's  no  covey  in  the  capital -  the  only  thing that  brings  everyone  together  is  sending  people  off  to  die.  ( .. )   it's  why  i  like  you.   you're  the  first  real  person  i've  ever  known.   

(  @drivensnows-  )
            they care about themselves and their own. makin' sure nobody who represents them can step outta line.   [  this kind of rage and acknowledgement of the true darkness of the capitol doesn't usually come from those within. it's refreshing, but lucy gray keeps her chin high while a hand briefly taps a comfort on the other girl's shoulders. ]    's why you're important. you're not like them, shatterin' their rose-colored glasses before they can ruin your vision.

(  @deathsmaiden-  )
            
            [  lucy gray flinches slightly at the sudden voice, turning her head quickly until her eyes settle on the friendliness of the other. her shoulders relax soon after. ]    uh-huh, i write all my songs. well, the covey help with some of 'em.  (…)    they're my family, we're all musicians.   [  she nods towards the other, brow raising with curiosity. ]   you got a story with music too?   you must to know it well.