@4thdistrict liked for a lyric starter !

 ‍  ‍ “ we all still die, what will you leave behind? ”

 ‍ ‍   ‍ ― willow tree march, the paper kites.

“ i drag myself outta nightmares and there's no relief in waking up, but... it's better not to give in to it. IT TAKES 10 TIMES LONGER TO PUT YOURSELF BACK TOGETHER THAN IT DOES TO FALL APART. ”

4THDISTRICT : FINNICK ODAIR of THE HUNGER GAMES SERIES ; written by birdie . an independent, selective, and mutuals only blog

starter for @4thdistrict.

 ‍  ‍ the water laps at her bare feet as she walks along the shore, the coolness a welcome respite from the heavy sun that has beat down on them all day -- though it's begun its descent in the sky, painting the horizon a soft orange - purple as dusk approaches. finnick is easy to find; he always has been, if she really thinks about it. the water has always been his catharsis. katniss is a little disgruntled she had never put it together herself. but one forbidden child had caused enough stir, and as more popped up . . . well, it's probably a good thing finnick had never blatantly faced that hardship.

 ‍  ‍ she settles next to him in the sand, swallowing the pained grunt in her throat -- she is still covered in her fair share of scrapes and bruises, despite the healthy dose of nectar ﹠ ambrosia the apollo kids have on anyone who suffered worse than a surface wound in the battle of manhattan. still looking out over the water, she leans to bump her shoulder against finnick's and sighs casually. as if testing the waters; “ so. finally beat the deadbeat dad allegations? ”

starter for @4thdistrict.

 ‍  ‍ katniss flees through the halls in socked feet, the new, raw skin across her body stinging with the wounds haymitch dug up ( 〝 what is it, sweetheart? more boy trouble? 〞), desperately searching for somewhere new to hide herself away. somewhere her inebriated, stumbling, careless - tongued mentor won't find her. she zigzags down untaken hallways and around doorways where voices echo, her breath like a knife against her ribs. there. a closet ahead she hasn't buried herself in, a promise of shelter and darkness where she cannot see the patchmarked scars on her body -- a flash of gold through another hallway halts her in place and she strains her neck, holding the mentally disoriented bracelet tight against her wrist. was that -- ? yes, of course it was. finnick.

 ‍  ‍ “ finnick. ” her vocal chords may as well be coated in dust for what good they do her, but it has to be enough. she strides, half - jogs down toward him, reaching for him before he is even within proximity. if she cannot depend upon haymitch, who else? finnick, who has been at her bedside ceaselessly, who was more than likely headed that way now. her fingers knot in his sleeve, pulling him aside for what little seclusion can be offered right now. her pupils are blown wide and her breath still chafes and she is fully aware that she must look at least half mad in her desperation, but he has to understand. “ finnick, i need to -- ” her voice catches ﹠ cracks and there is surely not a single mockingjay who would fall silent for her now, but her hold on him only tightens. “ i need to talk to you. ”

STARTER FOR @4thdistrict.

 ‍  ‍ the air is different in district 4. so close to the coast and so far from the morning dew that clings to the forest floor, there is a tinge of saltwater everywhere she walks, a sun that burns red on her skin instead of draping over her with the damp blanket of humidity. katniss was aware of this during her victory tour, a hundred years ago, but a single day ( one filled with prep, lines written on cards, and the fear of inspiring a rebellion at that ) didn't give her much to go off of. she has already seen more just from walking from the train station to the beach than she had in those twenty - four hours. granted, it's a long walk. there is a part of her that's eager to embrace this; while it's different and unfamiliar, there is no ash to stir under her feet, no mere silence to accompany her -- district 4 is alive still, bustling ﹠ arguably thriving. she watches the people out of her peripheral, those who don't watch her in return, but she follows a certain path and sticks to it.

 ‍  ‍ she finds him about where she expected to, after a little asking around; wind - tossed tresses of his hair lit up like pure bronze under the afternoon sun, he is impossible to miss even crouched down at the shoreline. trepidation slows her gait just a little before she pushes onward, casting a strangely shaped shadow over his shoulder with the tilt of her bag as she peers over it.

 ‍  ‍ “ always keepin' your hands busy, aren't you? ” it's been a little over a week since paylor officially pardoned katniss for assassinating coin. of course, she hadn't contacted anyone ahead of her visit -- least of all finnick himself. she hadn't even known she was going until two days ago. but greasy sae was getting tired of her directionless wandering, and she had been suffocating in twelve for so long. she could only think of the one person who understood her last time she was drowning, because they had been in it together.