#bombing tw

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I went to school without my uniform on, so I tried to go home to change into it, but when I left a random woman grabbed my arm really hard and sang to me that I was being sued by my principal for the bombings of multiple courthouses.

[sannes-reincarnation-saga]

This first chapter depicts a fictional bombing of Berlin and is continued under the read more.

[glindaselphie]

7 years today since the manchester arena bombing that claimed 22 lives 💔

ariana, those 22 angels, the people of manchester and everyone else affected by that awful awful night are in my thoughts today 🐝

[cringelordofchaos]

how many died due to the nato bombing in serbia?

ermmmmmm idk ? I am no expert on history. Like, not at all. My parents remark how they didnt have school for months and that practically everyone that was sent to patrol the school died bc of bombings.

according to wikipedia (a terrible source, i know (sarcasm)) this is what i copy pasted

-

The NATO bombing killed about 1,000 members of the Yugoslav security forces in addition to between 489 and 528 civilians. It destroyed or damaged bridges, industrial plants, hospitals, schools, cultural monuments, private businesses as well as barracks and military installations. In the days after the Yugoslav army withdrew, over 164,000 Serbs and 24,000 Roma left Kosovo. Many of the remaining non-Albanian civilians (as well as Albanians perceived as collaborators) were victims of abuse which included beatings, abductions, and murders.[40][41][42][43][44] After Kosovo and other Yugoslav Wars, Serbia became home to the highest number of refugees and IDPs (including Kosovo Serbs) in Europe.[45][46][47]

-

so yeah

also copy pasted from the same wikipedia:

-

Casualties and losses (for serbia)

Serbian MOD in 2013: 1,008 killed (659 servicemen and 349 policemen) 5,173 wounded[23] Acc. to FHP: 304 soldiers and policemen[24] Serbian claim in 2015: Economic losses of $29.6 billion[25] Material losses: Acc. NATO 120 tanks, 220 APCs, 450 artillery pieces and 121 aircraft destroyed[26][27] Yugoslavs estimate: 13 tanks, 6 APCs, and 6 artillery pieces destroyed[27]Third party estimate: 14 tanks, 18 APCs and 20 artillery pieces destroyed[27][28]

-

also this is not related to how many serbs died but (again, copy pasted from wikipedia)

-

The bombing caused damage to bridges, roads and railway tracks, as well as to 25,000 homes, 69 schools and 176 cultural monuments.[180] Furthermore, 19 hospitals and 20 health centers were damaged, including the University Hospital Center Dr Dragiša Mišović.[181][182] NATO bombing also resulted in the damaging of medieval monuments, such as Gračanica Monastery, the Patriarchate of Peć and the Visoki Dečani, which are on the UNESCO's World Heritage list today.[183] The Avala Tower, one of the most popular symbols of Belgrade, Serbia's capital, was destroyed during the bombing.[184]

-

again im not claiming serbia never did anything wrong (bc it sure as hell did.). im just saying that you shouldnt talk abt how much you want serbia to be bombed AGAIN (??who would that help now??) and how you sholdnt wish death upon all people that happen to be residents of the same country. (ive seen it. ive also seen someone censor the word Serb?? hillarious shit actually)

you could say this is vengance? for what serbia did to albanians. and how it was neccessary?? IDK???

idk. i want to and should do more research but yeah. this is all ive got

also im just a Random Teenager. idk man. i dont really know politics. but i dont reallylike memes about how serbia should be bombed again, and how random ass civillians deserved being hurt and killed. neither did albanians deserve to be hurt and killed. ifeel like thats obvious but heck if i know. idrk why wars exist really. as you can see, im highly immature and am not really fit to talk abt the complications of bombing of yugoslavia. all i can do is just tell people to not make memes abtbombing serbia again.feels like human decency.

also random fact. ive heard on the news yesterday that apparently near the borders of Kosovo many serb teens are getting beat up ??? idfk havent looked into it but it seems to be related to all the conflicts. though there may be additional context im missing.

my case in point is to just sorta let it go. and to NOT MAKE MEMES ABT BOMBING SERBIA AGAIN bc WHO WOULD THAT HELP (i mean memes dont harm anyone butit just seems nonsensical tome)

anyway politics stink i hate everything and i wish none of this ever happened and everyone could just live their own fucking lives but the world is more complicated than that ig.

[fatefought]

where: the presidential manor

who: coriolanus snow & anyone in the capitol

the quarter quell is behind them, even if the abruptness of it all was less than desired. the rebels showed prowess that the president hadn't entirely expected. the arena going up in flames was a pleasant touch, if not also infuriating. they struck when the iron was hot, but how will they fair now that it's cool ? uprisings were not an unknown annoyance of coriolanus snow. he has suffocated threats in the past. if a war is what those ungrateful pests of the districts desired, fine. their offspring will have to deal with the embarrassing legacy of their loved ones failing miserably. district twelve being smoking shambles was merely inevitable, perhaps the first of many.

the president sits calmly in his luxurious, open study however, looking not the least bit out of place. his features are pleasant, offering a slight smile to his company. " i appreciate you meeting with me at such short notice. " even now declining an invitation from snow was rather foolish.

[capnportofficial]

ive been looking through pretty much all sidney content i can find, and theres a lot of stuff of him being sad, but... not much of him being angry?

like... we see in canon that he's a lot more angry about things than he is sad. even in the flashback to sidney being alive, he's shown to be angry about the bullies, rather than sad. so its not just "oh hes angry at danny for this episode."

to me, sidney doesn't seem like the type to cry. instead, he seethes. he's righteously angry at the world.

(tw below the cut- mentions of suicide and bombings, in the context of stuff i saw in fanfics and fanart)

i saw a fic where the explanation for sidney's death was that he had bombed the school and killed himself and several classmates, and that was. weirdly in character?? i dont think that would work for his backstory, mainly because that would have been revenge and thus wouldn't have left him with unfinished business... but still. he has that level of anger and hatred.

ive also seen fics and art where he did commit suicide, but did so publically by jumping off of the school roof at a time he KNEW his classmates would be below and would see him fall. that's a lot more in character than suicide by hanging, or pills, or any kind of "private" suicide would be.

sidney's a very angry person. he wants to hurt the people who hurt him. his sadness is channeled into anger.

[dellcartwrights]

Location: District 13 bunker, middle of the night Open

Delly had barely any time to react to Peeta's very obvious deterioration before the air raid siren had gone off, and she had to run through the halls of Thirteen looking for Dirk. This couldn't be happening again. They couldn't be bombing Thirteen the way that they had bombed Twelve. The only difference was this time she could protect Dirk, and she would protect Dirk. She couldn't always leave it up to Gale. Delly had found Dirk in their room, cowering in a corner, and it had taken everything in her to not break down in that moment and to get them both down to the bunker.

The first hit had startled her and sent Dirk scrambling under his bunk. Delly spent the next few hours calming him down and trying to not let herself fall apart either. Dirk couldn't see her like that. It wouldn't help anything.

It wasn't until things got quiet, the strikes farther apart, to the point that Delly thought that they were through, and Dirk was asleep that she got up to stretch her legs. They had long fallen asleep, and she was unsteady on her feet as she managed to wander among the people to find a somewhat empty corner where she collapsed and buried her face in her knees as the tears came. She cried for her mom, her dad, Peeta, and her brother. When were they going to get Peeta back? How much longer could he take the Capitol's torture?

Delly nearly jumped when she felt a presence next to her. The "I'm fine!" came without even thinking. And then she paused. "No, I'm not," she admitted, tears in her eyes. "But I'm not hurt, so you can just...I'm sure there's hurt people or someone else that you need to tend to."

[fymo-blogs]

Tw for content

My brother scares me ,he jokes about 9/11,the Boston Marathon bombimg and the columbine high school massacre

I remember telling him an eight year old died in the marathon bombing he went fuck him

Oh gosh...

I suggest you make sure he's not insane

[eventiderpg]

Peeta's Parting Presentiment

Across Panem, there is a buzz surrounding Caesar Flickerman's newest guest. This is the third time Peeta Mellark has come on and each time he's divided the Nation; this is the third time he's been on, and Peeta is significantly worse for wear. That doesn't hinder two occurrences. The first: Caesar Flickerman continues to act as though the pair are old chums. The second: Beetee Latier is in a control room in District Thirteen with a bright team, including District Twelve's Aspen Barros. The Capitol Darling and The Capitol gossip have been discussing for approximately twenty minutes now unbeknownst to what's to happen.

District Thirteen's intel had told the rebels that Peeta Mellark would have another interview this evening. The control room in Thirteen was a buzz. Several higher ups in the technological side of the cause were here, including Beetee Latier and Aspen Barros. The former sits, staring at the massive holographic as Caesar's logo stretches across. He's positioned in the center of the dimly lit room. "Security has been breached against The Capitol's system. Given those on the inside, I do not worry about much resistance at the moment. Our objective today remains simple: get as many to see the propo during Peeta Mellark's interview as possible. Aspen, what do you see on your side?"

There was a part of her that still felt like an imposter even being in the room let alone in a chair but it's pushed aside when she reminds herself that Beetee wouldn't have selected her if she wasn't capable. Eyes remained trained on the screen in front of her monitoring the feed, grateful to have a task to take her mind off the way her chest tightened at the sight of Peeta's state. There's a clearing of her throat before she speaks, voice coming out calm and level. "No change in the feed, it's still just the interview." She wasn't sure if they'd begun to try to break the propo through yet but her screen remained fixed on Mellark and Flickerman. Aspen searches for something positive or reassuring ( old habits dying hard ) not knowing if there was anyone else in the room who needed it but her. "But I've managed to lock the channel, it's all anyone will be able to see."

There's a nod at the report. Beetee remains unperturbed by the results as Doralee Hinerich fiddles with her keyboard nearby. A practice propo had just been attempted, which didn't break through interference into Peeta Mellark's interview. "It might have aired on a differing station. No matter. You're doing well, Aspen. Keep watch. Let us know what the audience is seeing."

The tone of the interview had all in all been somber. Even Caesar's attire lacked its usual color, but he still spoke to Peeta Mellark like they were old friends. He casually ignored the state the baker's son was in. Any brashness was pushed aside with either a toothy smile or patronizing nodding. "Peeta Mellark, we must acknowledge the state of urgency across Panem. The Rebellion continues to strike havoc amongst our innocent Districts. Death follows everywhere the rebels go and every person they have touched. The bombing and fires in Eight, the bursting of the dam in Five, when will enough be enough? Do you have any idea what's going through the minds of these rebels - some of which you were notoriously close to?"

"How am I supposed to know what's goin' through any of their heads, Ceasar?" he asks, his voice tense, but shaky at the same time. He's not looking at the interviewer and instead his eyes dart from the cameras to the guards flanking either side. His hands are shaking, but that's nothing new. "All I know is that… is that… it'll never be enough. For any of you. Nothin' will be left."

It comes in fuzzy, a sound of a sweet melody. A feminine voice comes through, cutting off both microphones for a few months. Are you, are you, coming to the tree, rings almost alluringly. Flickerman's eyes flicker towards the crew, confused. Once the singing is stopped and he gets a thumbs up, eyeline moves back to Peeta. "Peeta, please continue. What will never be enough?"

His head tilts like a dog catching a sound the moment the singing starts, Peeta's eyes fixatated away from the cameras as though he can see where it's coming from. "Katniss?" he says, his voice strained, throat dry. It can't be… can it? But the second he thinks it, the sound is gone and Caesar is asking him a question. He blinks - too many times, too rapidly, his heart racing - and he looks back at the host. "What will…?" he repeats, trying to catch up. "Everything. We'll all die before this is over."

"She's not here, Peeta. Katniss Everdeen is actively aligned with the resistance, the very people who burned down District Eight with no remorse for life. But you're right, it seems they won't stop until all of Panem is punished. They don't care for the lives of our citizens. She doesn't care for our citizens."

A simple nod is given in reply, maybe she'd let a sense of accomplishment bloom later but for now she is focused on actually achieving their goal. Gaze studies the screen and waits for it to change, pushing away any rising emotions in favour of a clear mind. She's just about to report that there's been no change when suddenly the screen changes, the propo filling it rather than "Wait, I think we've done it." There's a hint of excitement in her otherwise calm tone as she prepares to brace for an inevitable pushback from the Capitol.

Beetee has a wide smile, one that almost never spreads across introverted lips. Yet eyes flicker between Aspen's screen as well as Doralee's that is capturing the maneuvering tactics of The Capitol attempting to navigate the intrusion. The latter question is for both women in essence. "Aspen, what are the those watching currently seeing? How long do you estimate until connection is back to their ideal?"

Out of the corner of her eye she catches Beetee's smile, finally allowing herself a small one of her own in the light of their success. She watches the propo and then watches the screen switch back to the interview, seemingly getting increasingly chaotic throughout their interruptions. "The propo. It sometimes cuts back to the studio but the audio is still ours. Flickerman is fighting to get it back under control."

Doralee mentions it will likely only be thirty more seconds as well. Beetee turns to look at Aspen again and remarks, "He seems to be able to see it. That's important. Notify me if there's any changes at all, Aspen."

And before Caesar Flickerman can continue, their mics are off again. The broadcast scurries over to a propo each time the mics are cut. No stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree, the song is audible for them though. Suddenly Peeta Mellark and Caesar Flickerman are back on the screen as The Capitol interrupted Aspen and Beetee's interference once more.

Caesar wants to only pin this on District Thirteen, but Peeta knows... oh, he knows. It's bigger than just one place, bigger than all of them, and the Capitol is at the center of it all. Before he can say anything about it, though, the broadcast flickers and he can hear the singing again. But not only that - on the side where the screen shows the interview, it's no longer him and Caesar, but Katniss. She stands in rubble, fires arrows towards a hovercraft, walks through the bombing. "Katniss!" he says again, tears in his eyes as his chest feels as though it's being ripped open. "Are you there? Can-can you see me?" She's not going to answer or maybe she is, he's not sure. He's sure of anything anymore except for the physical pain he feels at saying her name.

Caesar all but huffs at this point. It's a brief, like several milliseconds peep into the man behind the facade. He clears his throat and continues, as though the producer in the corner of the set isn't annoyed. "Peeta Mellark, please continue. We were discussing the actions of the rebels and the crimes against Panem that they are committing. People are hurting."

She watched as the screen continued to show the interview, still working to ensure it's the only channel anyone can access, but the sound coming through is theirs and she hopes that's enough. If nothing else it seemed to be provoking a reaction from Peeta. "We're back to Peeta on screen now and he's -" She knows mentioning his state isn't what's needed from her and so a frown settles itself on her brow, equal parts in concentration and worry for him. "- I think he's trying to tell us something."

Eyes flicker between the many screens across the control room. Before spinning his chair closer to Aspen, he spends some time at Doralee's desk. At one point, he's taking the keyboard away and even putting in some code, much to the displeasement of the capable District Thirteen woman. Soon he's at Aspen's desk once more. Eyes trail her screen before turning to her. "So it is reaching him well," he regards. Well not in his state of mind, but rather physically reaching Peeta Mellark. "And this is the feed everyone in Panem is currently seeing, yes? The interruption seems stronger now. They must be seeing and hearing more across the board, I imagine."

"It seems to be." Is the soft reply she gives to Beetee's question, thoughts increasingly pulled once more towards distress the longer she watches Peeta on the screen. But she resists, opting for pragmatism just a little longer. "It is, no one can see anyone else. They're fighting to get the other channels back but I've still got this one locked in."

"Good," he begins to remark as eyes linger on the broadcast. "They're going to start becoming more aggressive in trying to break our connection soon. This might be the only momentum we have with airing the propo within Peeta's airtime," he then starts to address the entirety of the room. "Continue pushing it through. Put everything into it. We don't want to lose our opportunity here. Let Panem see the Mockingjay."

And like clockwork, the Mockingjay's song rings. Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where dead man called out for his love to flee? The interruption longer in song, though her face gets cut from viewer sooner, leaving at called. The two men remain on the screen now.

Peeta sucks in a breath as it happens again, moving to sit at the edge of his seat, looking at closely at the screen as possible. It's her - singing once more - and something inside of him snaps back together. The sanity that's been slipping for weeks now suddenly coming back, albeit terrified. "We're all doomed, Caesar. You, me, everything will be destroyed. Katniss, Katniss - " He's speaking quickly, looking at the camera, trying to get it all out before he slips again. "Think about what you're doin'! There will be nothin' left! Everything, Ceasar. Everything will be gone!" His eyes bore into the cameras, his voice even faster now. "And you - " He feels the guards approaching. "You in Thirteen - " Closer now, he speaks even more quickly. " - Dead by morning!"

The producer is by the cameraman now, instructing what Caesar will eventually realize is strict instructions to cut the stream. The guards close in on Peeta, sooner than cameras can cut off even if just by moments.

She remains almost hypnotised by the screen, trying to listen to what he's saying and what it meant. The words were simple enough but she lost her grip on the logic and pragmatism that she'd been clinging to throughout, her emotions taking hold of her instead. The final break comes when the screen goes black but not soon enough. She can only watch in horror, helpless, as the fist makes contact with Peeta's face and she can only begin to imagine that what follows will be worse. Aspen had never been prone to tears but she might have wept for him there and then if it hadn't been for the sudden flurry of activity around her. "It's gone. They've shut it down." Is her only report, brief and almost murmured before her dazed gaze finally landed on Beetee again and focused once more. "Do you need me to do anything else?" She suspected that the answer would be no, given the way that others were clearing out of the room, but she'd never wanted to be useful more in her life. If that wasn't in this room then she'd find somewhere else to pour her energy in to drown out her thoughts with action.

Somewhere in the dust, a voice mentions Peeta Mellark is giving a warning to District Thirteen. The conclusion is right as minutes later, Thirteen receives an intensive air strike. This is an action that is hidden from the other twelve Districts, The Capitol, and those who watched the interview in the cellblock of the tribute center. The warning from one of The Capitol's captives saves many lives in the underground District. When it's safe to come out the following morning of day fifty-eight, hundreds of white roses have been splayed out over the earth of Thirteen. In two days time, the rescue mission will begin.

With our Mockingjay era plot drops, these will be similar to the Claudius and Caesar updates. You are absolutely welcome to write a self-para or actively do threads in relation to this plot drop! If you choose to roleplay this on the dash, please tag your threads with both #eventideevent04 as well as #eventideppp. Our players are now welcome to play through day fifty-eight, even though Peeta's interview took place the night of the fifty-seventh.

This plot drop does not effectively pause time in the roleplay. It does however signify that we are getting closer to the rescue mission in this era. As always, thank you for your patience. Thank you for still being here with us in EVENTIDERPG. Our RPG is better with you in it. Happy roleplaying!

[butchbarbieagainstterfs]

Terfs: you didn't immediately respond to me when I pointed out that the person you said I shouldn't be transphobic against is not a good person. Your silence is deafening

Also terfs: the guy who set off a bomb in a plane wasn't that bad

What the actual fuck

[ander-aurelius]

Closed starter | @angelbenningflint | District 13 | Day 57 - Night of the bombing

The screech of the bomb sirens brought Ander back to childhood —  heart racing, hands shaking, shuffling his way out of his classroom and down to the bunker along with the rest of his class. The drills had always been anxiety-inducing, pushing him to the edge of his tolerance as he was reminded of the fact that his safety, his family’s safety, was never guaranteed. In those times, he would have sought out his mother and father and clung to them until the District officials concluded the drill and dismissed them all. Ander couldn’t help being transported back to that version of himself now, small and anxious as he sat on the cold, granite floor with his back pressed up against the bunk assigned to him. Part of him wished he could be six again, that he could go and seek comfort from his parents once more, but he was older now. He could face this on his own. The world around him trembled with each new wave of attack. Regrettably, the barrage didn’t appear to be lightening up any time soon. 

Ander did his best to cope, rotating through nearly every grounding technique his father had taught him over the years. None of it helped. He just wanted it to be over. But suddenly, he wasn’t alone, and though his eyes were closed as he desperately tried to calm his pounding heart and churning stomach, he knew exactly who had come to take a seat next to him. Ander wanted to be annoyed. Ángel was always getting himself into trouble, and ignoring the rule about remaining at your assigned station until the bombing let up would certainly result in some sort of backlash.

“I’m okay.” Ander’s voice faltered; he was clearly lying, and he knew his friend would be having none of it. “You should go back to your bunk. They’ll be pissed if they find out you broke protocol.”

[poolsofabyss]

Free Palestine 🇵🇸

[incaensio]

setting : the fourteenth night after the arena break out, the control room in district thirteen. in response to : peeta mellark's first interview post arena outbreak. mentions of gale hawthorne, beetee latier, alma coin, caesar flickerman and peeta mellark. trigger warning for : death, torture, panic attack, drugging, bombing, caesar flickerman.

she's been to the control room several times this week. the arena outbreak, rescuing people from the capitol and from the districts, it had all been costly, and thirteen needed to show results — not only internally, of course. in a way, it's kinda like it's done in the capitol: they want her to appear in front of the cameras, become their face, repeat their speeches. only thirteen, in its allegedly humanizing way, haven't threatened her, and so, all meetings she attends consist of people talking around her, while she stays quiet, hoping they'll let her go so she can find a place to nap. that also means that katniss is not scared of coin as she had been of snow, even if there is something unnerving about the woman katniss should care to find out more about. she doesn't, however.

it's late in the evening, but there's something in capitol news today, she's told. gale sits next to her, as he often has this week, when the communicator in his wrist warns him — them — they should come here for whatever this is. beetee is in the meeting tonight too, talking about how his inside man has said caesar flickerman's show tonight is special. katniss is so numb she can not rationalize why until the tv flickers on. there's the usual caesar tune, a show of photos, then the camera shows an office of sorts. no audience. this should give away that something very different will happen, but it's only when peeta appears on screen that katniss moves. she's on her feet in a second, careless about people looking at her, about the one person she shoves so she can look at the screen in full.

"peeta," she breathes, for what seems to be the first time in weeks. for weeks, she had hoped he was dead, in peace at last; when she thought otherwise, she ended up having panic attacks, to the point her mother had snuck in a syringe and a small bottle of medicine to help her keep calm, while prim had learned breathing exercises that barely work. now, however, she feels her body flooded with relief, a relief so insistent she could smile. peeta is alive. he looks almost as he did those two weeks back, she thinks. but there's a look in his eyes, a trembling hand that wasn't there. what are they doing to him? she can picture all sorts of torture, but there's not much she can see from far away. if she was near him, she'd wash the make up away, apply salve to any bruises, hold him tight and say everything is going to be okay.

he's alive, and she still can't tell if it's a good thing. he's speaking, he's smiling, he's talking about her. katniss and i. a team, they've always been a team. they are a team. caesar — who always used to fawn over her, but now must be reading from his own speech, maybe written by his employer — is trying to antagonize her, and with her, the rebellion; peeta fights back, the way he knows how to, defending her endlessly with his words, his love. he's also saying things people don't usually say. things they barely spoke of, just when it was the two of them, scribbling on paper or whispering to each other, never on camera, like now.

peeta grows more exasperated as caesar presses on. he's leashing in his temper, as she's seen him do, but she can see it from the vein in his neck, the light bounce of his limbs, the way his accent peeks through, not to charm anyone who thinks of him as the one golden boy from twelve, but because he can not hold back everything at once. it's either his anger or his identity, now. she takes a deep breath as he talks about her wanting to do this. he's right. she doesn't — she doesn't want to be the mouthpiece to a war, to have more people dying because of her. she wants to be home, with her sister, her mother, and him. away from all of this (but when has she ever gotten what she wanted?).

caesar touches peeta, and katniss has to hold herself back from hissing out loud. an once comforting touch now feels the opposite, she can tell.

peeta is told to tell her something. she raises her eyebrows, brings a hand to the screen. yes, i can hear you. i'm here.

“do you really want a civil war? do you really want the kind of damage that will cause? what will it take before it’s over? how many people have to die? will there be anythin’ left?”

if she wasn't almost glued to the screen, she wouldn't have been able to hear what he says next because she's just noticed the room around her for the first time since the broadcast began. it erupts with dissatisfied sounds, but katniss doesn't have the time to glare at whoever is chastising peeta. he's being so candid now, it's like he's right here, eyes on hers, warning her, taking care of her. remember what i said about being a piece in someone else's games, katniss. yes. the night on the roof, before the games. words that inspired her before to save him, that haunted her so very often, as they do now.

the screen goes dark, and there's an expecting silence as she turns around. she doesn't say anything, but the way she begins moving towards the door is enough for the president to speak up, remiding her she hasn't been dismissed, that this meeting is not yet over. someone touches her as if to keep her in place, and she flinches automatically. gale is on his feet then, following her to the door and the movement is enough to distract the room for her to run (she can hear gale speak to someone inside as she rushes out, some kind of ruckus follows, but she is not wired to look back).

she finds a closet — she's rather good at that now — and closes the door behind herself, bringing her ring finger to her mouth, pressing it against her lips. "you're alive," she mumbles, and she can finally feel the tears begin to fall. she hasn't cried in days, too numb by the drugs, holding onto the thought that it would be better if peeta was dead. but he's not. she's been a horrible partner, she realizes, as silent tears turn into sobs. she tries to contain them, not wishing for anyone to find her and drag her back to the control room, where she'd need to give her thoughts.

her thoughts. what are them? relief, happiness, hope. despair, concern, horror. katniss has become familiar with contrasting sentiments, but this is something else entirely; peeta may be alive, but the complaints she heard in the control room as he asked for the cease fire are valid, too. she may be hiding away in a closet in an underground, half-dead district, but her other half, the actually convincing half is on tv, asking for peace. if the twenty one year old katniss, with an empty belly and a vulnerable sister heard this, she might be inclined to comply with peeta, stay with what she was familiar with, even if it's from the capitol. it is what she did, for all those years.

but she's not that awfully ignorant twenty one year old anymore. she's seen the capitol, the other districts, the horrible things they do not only for poor, defenseless miners, but for everyone, even to their own death machines. the never ending hunger to torture and break someone, to keep them down, forever. isn't that what the president tried to do to her?

what coud he be doing to peeta? she wonders once more, closing her eyes. he must be imprisioned somewhere, but being used to draw her out, to tease her, to show how helpless she is. anger creeps in like the very first interview, the one he confessed her feelings, the one she attacked him for showing how weak she is; it is similar to then, not because he's showing her out to be ignorant and easily swindled, but because he's protecting her, just as he did before. helping her stay alive at the cost of his own life.

still, there can't be a cease fire, she decides, with a certainty that spooks herself, the half-dead woman that has wandered these halls for a week now, wanting nothing but to escape. peeta wouldn't be asking for this rebellion to stop if he knew she is alive, that there could be a way to stop the barbarie they've lived in for so long, if he knew how their home has been reduced to ashes because of the president. how the same could happen to everyone else. but if he doesn't speak the way they want him to do, they will hurt him, they will kill him. i need to get peeta out of there, is the other thing she's sure.

how? how can she do this? how can she trust thirteen? peeta was trying to influence her on snow's behalf, anyone can see this, but that doesn't mean he's not right. if she does this, give them an answer, how much better is she? isn't she just a puppet drawn by another president's strings?

but peeta. she can't leave him there. he needs to know — about thirteen, about twelve, about her, about them, all that was left unsaid.

for that, for him, she needs to do this.

she needs to be the mockingjay.

[vengefvlx]

When: Day 47

Where: District 12,

Who: Cressida and Katniss ( @incaensio )

Cressida hadn't thought it would be this bad. She supposed she should have known better. She'd spent the past however many years learning about how bad the Capitol really was. And yet, she was continually surprised. District 8 had been bad, but this was even worse. She had been trying to contain her shock, her upset. She wasn't from here. She wasn't seeing her home bombed to ruins. Cressida didn't think it was right for her to be upset. But the loss of innocent life would always be upsetting to her. It was why she was so determined to be involved with the rebellion, with the movement to end the games. That desire didn't make it any easier today though. As they'd moved around, Cressida had briefly wondered if she'd regretted joining the mission, wondering if she should have delegated it to someone else on the team.

It was those thoughts that had drawn her to Katniss when they were having a short period of down time. She didn't really know what to say. What did one say when someone was walking around the ruins of their home, seeing the bodies, and the tatters of what remained of District 12. It had all almost made her feel guilty for recording it all on camera. She didn't know what to say, not wanting to make things worse for the younger woman in front of her.

"Tell us when it's enough...." She knew there was an agenda here. That Coin wanted the footage. But right now Cressida didn't give too much care to that. The mental well-being of those she was filming was more important. "We can stop. We have enough footage." Cressida was good at what she did. She was good at producing films. If Gale, Cael and Katniss wanted to stop right now, she would make the footage they'd done so far work. "I can handle the flack from Coin. Your well-being is more important to me." Even if it wasn't too everyone else. And even then, she supposed well-being was a long shot. Cressida didn't know how what they were seeing right now could not affect anyone's well-being. But she was trying.

[rptsyd]

@tonopahvalley are also islamophobic because they had a whole car bombing plot done by a muslim character. they didn't even know turks were mostly muslims?

oh they are a cesspool of toxic. no one insulted you when bringing up valid concerns and yet, you've been crying about it as if you were the one being hurt in this. also, when poc say do research before writing a character, that's exactly what we mean. turkish fc are the rpc's way to skim around diversity rules in groups and it shows. and i don't want none of that 'that's why we're afraid of writing diverse characters' because when writing any characters you should know their background.

[alexandra-again]

@chocoholicbec this looks legit?

These are all actual conversations I had with @mohammedayesh . In fact, while I was working on finishing this comic today, he sent me a video of bomber planes flying above them. There is not a single place in Gaza that is safe.

BUT YOU CAN HELP BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE

Please support Mohammed if you can by donating to his campaign or his PayPal below. He is less than €3000 away from his goal of €15,000. If you cannot donate, then please share. Let’s bring him hope that he can evacuate safely!! <3