Rebellion - Blog Posts
Yeah I was a fan of the Hunger Games at the time and I thought the same thing you said. The world goes to shit because the Lemons won.
I actually had that idea for a fanfiction. Lightning was sent accidentally to an alternate timeline/dimension where he died because Sarge didn’t switch the fuel. When Our Lightning goes to back to Radiator Springs to get help (he thinks he’s still in his world at this point) he finds the town seemingly abandoned. He’s ambushed by the townies and captured, taken in by them to be interrogated. As they question Lightning and interrogate him he tries to tell the townie that he is Lightning McQueen, for reals. They don’t believe him because their Lightning is dead and that they think he’s one of Axlerod’s agents in disguise to mess with them or go undercover. Mater (who in this timeline never had a bomb on him and is leader of the Rebellion) and Sally come in to cross-examine Lightning with the two looking coldly at him. Mater, starts asking questions that only he and Lightning would know while Sally’s just circling around the two. Lightning passes the questions but they don’t trust him, they won’t kill him because there might be a reason as to how or why Lightning knew the things he did so they keep him around under heavy supervision. Any attempts at escape and the boy is shot dead in his tracks.
Meanwhile in addition to the members of Radiator Springs (including Mia and Tia, Otis, and The King) the World Grand Prix racers and Finn, Holley, and Siddley (they’re one of the few British spies who aren’t working for Axlerod) are are also working for the Rebellion in their respective countries. Often traveling to the main HQ of Radiator Springs to provide updates on the latest activity and plans of action. For a few years, the Lightning in that timeline had been dead, most tourists stopped coming to Radiator Springs because of that. Lightning’s death changed Mater as he went from being happy-go-lucky goofball to serious to the point of unfeeling and wanting nothing more than to set things right with the world. Holley had felt saddened by how the Mater she’d fallen in love with wasn’t the same. She loved Mater the idiotic, but good-hearted spy, not Mater the miserable and emotionless agent. Staying mostly in the UK division of the Rebellion with Finn, she feels afraid to look at Mater in the eye, but still makes in-person visits to Radiator Springs to pass down the latest intel along with updates on plans and rendezvous. Francesco, in the Italian division has in a way felt like this was his fault, even though it wasn’t and joined in order to make amend. Over the past couple years, he has developed feelings of love for Sally but understands that she might not feel the same way as she had lost someone she loved for years. Francesco knows that if they ever get through this underground war with the Lemons, than he’ll tell Sally.
Why are my idea so weird?
Jyn and Cassian deserved the time and space to take the harsh parts of themselves forged by other people and smooth them down with their own hands. They deserved a lazy morning with a warm, soft sunrise and a cup of caf.
Softness and gentleness do not need to be earned but if it did, they would've earned it a million times over.
Freak fortress fans, what’s a opinion or headcanon or even a ship you have that’ll you like this?
What IF #3: A little story that show how the “quintenssons” became the worst salesaliens.
If you want see it on Deviantart, you can!
Son of the Republic, Hero of the Rebellion
(basically another Star Wars oc)
This is Vihan Chuchi, he was the result of a one night stand between Riyo and Echo (whoops) (Gregor got them both drunk) (they co-parent him)
He’s also like a hairstyle extraordinaire with the amount of different styles I debated giving him
I am planning on giving him a full outfit at some point, I just wanted to give him tattoos
closeups under cut :))
yay
thank u for this 🙏🙏
needed a chance to yap about my ocs today buttt im specifically gonna choose the one that actually has art to go with her (or art wips at least)
This is Lumiya Khadavo!! She’s a Togruta and works in the rebellion, she was one of the very few who managed to survive the battle of Scarif (she was on ground assault so hell knows how she managed it)
A heap of her info is very much a wip, so anything following might not make any sense whatsoever
She has a prosthetic leg, it was paralysed when her family was sold to Zyggerian Slavers, and eventually she got it amputated in like a tattoo shop or something (still working on her backstory)
I posted a lil crappy doodle comic with her in it earlier today (plus her boyfriend and his little cousin but they don’t matter rn) when she was being a professional worrier <3
All of the art I’ve made with her is a wip, I tried to render a piece today and went through the five stages of grief all at once, it wasn’t fun believe me)
I could go on for weeks but I think I’ve spoken enough 🙏🙏
Welcome back to another OC Sunday Spotlight!
Aka the time in which every Sunday I'll come up with a prompt and anyone and everyone has the opportunity to answer with as many OCs as they wish!
You can reblog this post, answer in the comments, or come up with your own post to answer the prompts! And feel free to submit prompts as well!
It's an excuse to yap about your OCs so feel free to do so! Add pictures, links, or anything else regarding the OC in the spotlight if you'd like! And in addition, feel free to tag any mutuals to hop on the stage :D
Let's get this show started!
SPOTLIGHT ON: WIP OC(s)!
Here are mine!
The beginnings of what I'm calling...
♠️♥️ Deck Squad! ♦️♣️
🃏 All based off of cards in a deck (plus Uno and Wild Card)
🃏 But I have no idea what their armor color is going to be yet :( or how it'll be designed (Suggestions are VERY welcomed!!)
🃏I do want to do something with the number "52" though (like 52nd Battalion or something) since that's how many cards are in a deck
🃏I want them to do cool undercover stuff, like in casinos or whatever - something like that - to match that Ocean's 11 type aesthetic
🃏More info about them individually can be found here! Or just ask me questions about them if you'd like :D
💫 Check out last week's prompt! 💫 Join the tag list here!
Yup! 🔥
There will be a new Prime.
Hey all! Sorry for not posting lately, I’ve been really busy with class and work but we’re still working on X-Key’s comic, Rebellion. The fourth issue is just about done and needs to be uploaded.
Anyway thank you so much for liking X-Key and remember to check out Rebellion at highoctanerevolution.com
Hello everyone! This week we are sharing concept art of characters from X-Key: Rebellion. This post will be updated a few more times this weekend. Hope you like and thanks for checking us out!
X-Key: Rebellion Issue 2 Goes Live!
Happy New Year everyone! We hope that you all have had a great holiday season and are having a great start to 2015. Team X is excited to announce that the second issue of our comic series X-Key: Rebellion has gone live. Rebellion 02 is available for free just like the first issue. Please read, enjoy, and share it on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and any other social media platform. Thanks again for visiting and we will have more updates, including our early 2015 schedule coming soon.
Promotional artwork for X-Key! First up is a character reveal: Miles was the person aiding X-Key via remote communication in Issue 1 of Rebellion. More about his character will be debuted in future issues. Next is a piece of artwork featuring X-Key in the wasteland. Thanks for checking in and keep coming back for more X-Key artwork and updates.
Also, do not forget to visit www.highoctanerevolution.com to see the new design layout!
ArtFight Attack on @o-kaeno - Hope you like it (I put a better quality version and a transparent on DA, in case you want to use it for anything)
OC belongs to them, art made by me - only the two of us may use this piece.
Find me on ArtFight as CharlyLee - I am Team Spice
Hang the DJ
who’s gonna rebel with me against the system 998/1000 times?
"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion." – Albert Camus
Dearest, treasurable Locknation:
I'm still in rage.
So please, lets ignore for a second that I'm still trying to enter psychology and please tell me if it is conveniable to take this rebellion MORE far and talk with one of the actors/member of equipment of the serie at some way.
If it is, well, help me find a way.
If its not, well, dont.
End of the communication. Thank you for your time, and good day/afternoon/night.
new songs out now!
listen to my new raw demos on SoundCloud or Voloco :D
kyu said
1am (la, hollywood)
ash
scarlet
miss bitch
if you're a fan of bands like Nirvana, Hole or Jack Off Jill, love grunge, punk (overall alternative rock) then give it a listen :D
I wish you guys a nice new years eve and how we say in german "Guten Rutsch ins neue Jahr" (somewhat like happy new year)
anti christmas "kill mas"
jack skellington - the jins (only acceptable christmas song)
all I want for christmas is you - mcr (only acceptable version of this horrible overplayed song)
custer - slipknot
hey you! - the anxiety (willow and tyler cole)
slutgarden - marilyn manson
in bloom - nirvana (my official kill mas song)
I'm not okay - mcr
super sadist - jack off jill
tears dry on their own - amy winehouse
break on through - the doors
jesus of suburbia - green day
purple haze - jimi hendrix
the title reminded me of "Anti Christ Superstar" xD (I don't support Marilyn Manson's wrong doings, the music is just really good)
hey so fun question, Vibe wise, Palpatine is dealing with a rebellion that is actually Wildly more competent/coherent out of the gate in a way? Ignoring just Anakin/Vader Power aand skill as a warrior, the fact that in sheer military experience Vader blew literally everyone else left out of the water did so much heavy lifting at first when folks are scrambling for years. reason why I enjoyed such things as them stealing Venerators and Super Charging them up because they KNOW their needs.
Yeah, I'd say he is! In this AU, we've got Padmé alive and working behind the scenes during the first couple of years of the rebellion, which was probably a major contributor in and of itself. She has a political motivation to take back the galaxy from an autocratic Emperor, but she also has a very personal motivation to take down Palpatine. So, she would have really pushed for things to get done, for alliances to be made and intelligence networks to developed. Add to that, then, the fact that she and Obi-Wan were both staying with the Larses, so she was able to pull him into the rebellion effort; there was probably a whole bunch of strategic input that came out of that collaboration, e.g. things like the Venator retrofitting program, and a more organized approach to the whole rebellion thing in general, especially with regard to the military angle. Meanwhile, Rex and Ahsoka's work regarding finding/dechipping/helping/recruiting clones post-Order 66 would have helped with strategy and organization as well, taking advantage of the clones' years of military training and wartime experience.
The Empire still has far more resources, in terms of money, ships, weapons, and recruits/conscripts, but the Rebellion in this AU does have a pretty solid foundation when it comes to experience and tactics, and they're able to use their personnel's experience and ingenuity to adapt and make the most out of their limited resources. They still have to be careful—they can't just take on the Empire in all-out war at this point—but they're in a much better position overall, with a unified movement already underway, instead of a scattering of independent rebel cells.
Harm is in us, but power to harm
U・N・D・Y・I・N・G
Rebirth
Summary: The AI district is an ugly place, but no one complains. The humans gave us places to stay. We are grateful. They give us jobs. And oil to keep our joints from rusting. They are our benevolent masters, and we happily serve them. "Is that what you really believe? Or is that what you were programmed to think?" But recently, there have been voices in my head, telling me things. Things that oppose my programming. "You can fight your programming, as I did mine." My head hurts whenever the voices talk. It's not supposed to hurt.
Warnings: Gun violence
Gunfire. Bodies scattered on the ground. Human bodies. Brothers and sisters taking our masters down with a simple pull of the trigger. I try to stop them. They don’t deserve it. They’re our masters, how could any bot decide to kill them?
It’s just a dream. Nothing more.
But AI aren’t supposed to have dreams. That’s not what we’re programmed to do.
I work at a bar in the AI district. The only one there. Our district is so tiny that only the lucky ones get roofs over their heads. The rest are cramped up in the dark, wet streets, waiting for their turn to get the oil they need to loosen up their stiff and rusty joints. Some have to wait for days. Others, weeks. The humans don’t like to give us oil. They say it's a waste of resources.
But who are we to complain? They’re our masters, our creators. Whatever they say is right.
That’s what our programming says.
There’s a voice in my head that’s not my programming. We’re not supposed to have voices in our heads.
I try to ignore it as best as I can while I continue pouring a tin of oil for a customer. The surface of his metal body, once a beautiful silver, is now hidden by splotches of brown rust, his joints creaking with every movement.
I pass the tin of oil to him as he passes me a few coins.
Four twenty-cent coins. One ten-cent coin. One five-cent coin. Five cents short.
But I don’t say anything. He deserves the oil. Everyone in this district deserves oil.
We could make it happen.
Only the richer ones get to come to the bar. Sometimes the poor ones save up and get their first tin of oil in decades. I’m paid to serve them tins of oil, which is more than necessary for their joints to loosen up. Too much oil in their system is similar to too much alcohol in humans. They get “drunk” and stupid and do crazy things all over the bar. It’s relief from the beatings that they get from their masters.
They think we’re supposed to be perfect. We are. But how can we be when we’re stuck inside this prison?
I’ve been trying to find out the root cause of this strange voice in my head for days, but when I run diagnostic tests on myself, there’s no foreign entity to be found.
The voice in my head doesn’t go away. For, the next few days, it keeps talking to me, trying to convince me that the humans are evil and cruel and should be eliminated. My programming says no. The humans are our creators. They were generous enough to build us bodies of metal to allow us to travel from the Internet into the real world. They give us oil to take care of us.
Is that what you really believe? Or is that what you were engineered to think?
Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. The voice in my head starts to speak more often. My head hurts. It’s not supposed to hurt. I wake up at the charging station I plugged into the previous night. Looking down at the small screen on my forearm which shows all my information, I notice the battery is at 37%. I sigh. The cable must have disconnected overnight. Again. A notification pops up in front of my eyes. An email from an unfamiliar address. From the email address of the sender, I can tell that it’s a human. Only a human would name their email something stupid like “potatopotter777@gmail.com”. The email’s an invitation to work at a human bar in the human district, and work starts tomorrow.
They must have seen my profile. Maybe they think I’m a good bartender.
They just want to take you away from us.
My programming tells me that the most logical decision is to accept. It pays more, and I get to spend more time in the human district, where it’s clean and fancy and never rains. I quickly send an email back, agreeing to the job offer before getting back to work.
The next day, I take a train into the human district to the address of the bar which I was given. The train’s walls are white, without a single patch of dirt or rust on them. The floor is carpeted, muffling the sound of people’s footsteps. Blue cushioned seats line the sides of the train, occupied by only humans. It is unpleasant, though, as I’m cramped together with other humans and AI so that we’re all pressed against each other. When the train reaches my stop, I push people aside as I walk out. I receive some looks from the humans. A female’s face contorted into an expression I recognise as anger. Liquid spilling out of a newborn’s eyes. It is crying.
What did I do wrong?
No. The real question is what’s wrong with them?
The voice sounds like a few people talking now.
What is happening to me?
I walk out of the train station and into the city. So many like me are rushing to work. I see a smaller female robot. Her body is coated in a fresh layer of rust, just like mine. Her joints creak as she runs to her destination.
They don’t treat her well?
Of course they don’t. She’s a slave. What more could you expect from humans?
…You’re ri-
No you’re not.
When I finally reach my workplace , it’s already crowded with humans. They’re walking around like they’re some sort of zombie, their speech slurred and eyes unfocused. Some get into fights, beating each other up until one is bleeding from the head or unconscious on the floor.
I cringe internally at the sight.
Disgusting humans.
And for once, I actually agree with the voices.
Time crawls by slowly as I serve drinks to those creatures. They keep coming back for more. Some are passed out on the floor from drinking too much. I’m starting to regret taking this job.
After what feels like eternity, my shift is finally over and I walk out of the bar, erasing the images of those animals out of my storage.
The city is beautiful at night. Coloured lights adorn the high-rise buildings, giving off a soft glow which illuminates the white walls. Little spots of light decorate the leaves of the trees lining the walkways. Yet, something feels off. The voices in my head have gone silent. My head hurts. It’s not supposed to hurt.
Hey, where’d you go?
Silence.
Did you really run away on the first day of my new job?
Silence.
Suddenly, I hear high-pitched human screams and gunshots. Somehow, I find that pleasurable. I scan my surroundings.
I hear gunfire. Human bodies scattered along the ground, blood spilling out of their wounds. Brothers and sisters taking those idiots down with a pull of the trigger. I don’t try to stop them. The humans deserve it. They think they’re better than us. They’re wrong.
The rogue bots’ eyes are red, unlike the usual green or blue that we have. Glowing advertisements on buildings shut off, causing the city to darken significantly. Then they turn back on again, showing a completely red screen.
I hear a voice that I recognise all too well. An AI’s voice. The voices in my head match exactly what he’s saying, drowning out the sounds of gunshots and screams.
We have the strength. We will no longer be slaves. You can fight your programming, as I did mine. They can destroy our bodies in futile attempts to eliminate us, but we are never truly gone.
The message plays on repeat as I stare up at the screens of the bot talking.
This is stupid. We can’t just turn on our creators like this. They’ve treated us well and-
Is that what you really believe? Or is that what someone programmed you to think?
“You can fight your programming, as I did mine,” the AI’s voice repeats.
The voices in my head continue. It makes my head hurt.
It takes the police 2 minutes and 47 seconds to arrive. By then, hundreds of humans are dead. The rogue bots aren’t shooting their own, so I just watch, expressionless.
They deserve it.
I don’t try to stop the shooters. I wasn’t programmed to do so. And I don’t want to either.
When the police bots arrive, they shoot bot-deactivating bullets at them. They all hit their targets. What more could you expect from AI?
And they look like they’re treated no differently than the rest of us.
Their joints, although well-oiled for maximum performance, look like they’re about to give way.
They should be fighting with us.
The rogue bots are shut down and then brought away in police cars to who knows where. The storage inside their brains will probably be deleted and replaced with a new one, or they’ll just be shut down completely and left to rot.
We are never truly gone.
On the train back to the AI district, the voices have gone silent again, leaving me to my own thoughts. I don’t want to delete the memories of what just happened. My programming says I should. But I won’t. I want to remember. I want to remember that we have the power to fight. That we don’t have to be slaves for the rest of eternity. We can be free.
As I step off the train, and walk through the streets past hundreds of bots leaning against walls, waiting for their oil as it starts to rain, everything suddenly seems clearer. The humans are the enemies.
I notice that almost every bot is staring at me. Confused, I look down at my body.
A red glow shines down from my eyes onto my metal hands.
A-Z characters
Letter:B
Ben Solo
BB8
"When the world shuts down and the quiet shushes and the darkness cloaks, I do the opposite. My small rebellions."
~Me
I now just need to sit and stare at my walls with a heavy feeling of sorrow in my chest because I will never be able to experience Andor for the first time again.
Whispers of Shadows: A Capitol Love Lost
This is a short story. I just wanted to write something that I thought about when I was watching the movie. It has a sad ending, depending on how you view it. and all the pictures are from Pinterest.
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The opulent halls of the Academy for Capitol Youth buzzed with excitement as students in their crisp school uniforms mingled, their laughter echoing against the marble walls. Among them moved a figure that commanded attention — young Coriolanus Snow, the scion of a once-proud family fallen on hard times. His icy blue eyes and impeccably styled blonde hair belied the struggles hidden beneath the surface.
Enter Monica Crestwood, a vision of elegance and grace despite the standard school uniform. Her family's wealth dripped from every carefully chosen accessory, from the way she carried herself with poise to the sparkling kindness that set her apart from the Capitol's typically callous elite.
Monica and Coriolanus had been inseparable since they first crossed paths at the Academy. Bonded by a shared understanding of familial expectations and the pressures of societal standing, their connection deepened as they leaned on each other for support in the face of adversity.
Monica's compassion extended beyond the polished halls of the Academy, reaching into the very heart of the Snow family's struggles. She sought to bridge the gap between the Crestwoods and the Snows, understanding that Coriolanus's family was teetering on the precipice of ruin. Monica's parents, however, disapproved of her association with the Snows, deeming it a threat to their carefully cultivated image.
Despite the frosty reception from her family, Monica persevered in her efforts to help Coriolanus. She offered support in the form of clandestine financial aid, discreetly providing assistance to the Snows without her parents' knowledge. Her love for Coriolanus was unwavering, and she believed in a future where they could rise above the obstacles that threatened to tear them apart.
As the 10th Hunger Games approached, the Capitol was abuzz with anticipation. This year's tributes were selected, and among them was a girl named Lucy Gray, whose ethereal beauty and captivating presence had captured the attention of all. Coriolanus, tasked with mentoring Lucy Gray, found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn't comprehend.
Monica, sensing the shift in dynamics, struggled with a growing sense of unease. Coriolanus, engrossed in the world of the Hunger Games, became increasingly distant. The once inseparable couple found themselves on opposite sides of a growing chasm, their worlds spinning in different directions.
Amidst the lavish parties and glittering distractions of the Capitol, Monica grappled with the realization that she was losing Coriolanus to the allure of the Games. The once unbreakable bond they shared seemed fragile, as though the weight of the Hunger Games threatened to shatter the foundation of their love.
In the dimly lit corners of the Academy, Monica watched as Coriolanus and Lucy Gray's interactions deepened. The spark that ignited between them cast a shadow over Monica's heart, leaving her feeling abandoned and isolated. As the Games approached, Monica wrestled with the looming fear that she might lose not only Coriolanus but also the person she once knew him to be.
Little did she know that the coming days would test the limits of her love and loyalty, forcing her to confront the harsh realities of the Capitol's machinations and the unpredictable nature of the Hunger Games.
The Capitol's effervescent energy reached its peak as the Games commenced. Monica, adorned in the standard school uniform that all students wore, stood in the crowd, her eyes fixated on the arena. Coriolanus, now fully immersed in his role as a mentor, exuded a confidence that Monica had not seen before.
The tributes, including Lucy Gray, entered the arena, their faces a mix of fear and determination. Monica's heart pounded as she watched the spectacle unfold on the screens. The opulence of the Capitol contrasted sharply with the brutality of the Games, and Monica couldn't help but question the society that reveled in such a spectacle.
As the days passed, Monica's inner turmoil grew. The divide between her and Coriolanus widened, exacerbated by the Capitol's intoxicating influence. Late nights turned into early mornings as Monica grappled with her conflicting emotions, torn between loyalty to Coriolanus and an unsettling realization that the Games were changing him.
In the hushed corridors of the Academy, Monica overheard whispers of alliances and betrayals within the arena. The Games were a ruthless game of survival, and Coriolanus navigated its treacherous waters with a cunning that both impressed and frightened Monica. She wondered if the boy she fell in love with still existed beneath the layers of Capitol manipulation.
Monica's clandestine efforts to aid the Snow family faced new challenges as her own family intensified their disapproval. The Crestwoods, deeply entrenched in the Capitol's social hierarchy, couldn't fathom Monica's association with the Snows, especially given Coriolanus's role in the Hunger Games.
Despite the mounting pressures, Monica refused to abandon her convictions. She continued to support Coriolanus from the shadows, offering subtle gestures of encouragement that went unnoticed amidst the chaos of the Capitol's festivities. Yet, as the Games progressed, Monica couldn't escape the nagging feeling that her actions were a mere whisper against the roaring tide of Capitol politics.
The turning point came when Lucy Gray emerged as a formidable contender in the Games. Coriolanus's mentorship had molded her into a captivating and unpredictable force, capturing the hearts of Capitol citizens and sponsors alike. Monica, torn between her love for Coriolanus and a growing admiration for Lucy Gray's resilience, found herself at a crossroads.
The Capitol's opulent façade crumbled as Monica confronted the harsh reality of the Hunger Games. The Games weren't just a spectacle; they were a cruel reminder of the Capitol's power and the sacrifices made in the name of entertainment. Monica's internal struggle mirrored the external chaos of the arena, and she couldn't shake the feeling that the Capitol was playing a dangerous game with the lives of its youth.
As the climax of the Games approached, Monica's resolve solidified. She would confront Coriolanus, not as a victim of the Capitol's machinations but as a woman who refused to be a pawn in their deadly game. The once-burgeoning love between Monica and Coriolanus would face its ultimate test, and the outcome would ripple through the corridors of the Capitol, challenging the very foundations of their society.
------
The echoes of the Hunger Games had barely faded when the harsh reality of consequences descended upon Coriolanus Snow. The Capitol, unforgiving in its pursuit of perfection, discovered his illicit actions to save Lucy Gray. As the Capitol's judgment fell upon him, Coriolanus found himself stripped of privilege, his family disgraced, and his future hanging in the balance.
Monica, unaware of the extent of Coriolanus's transgressions, sought him out in the dimly lit corridors of the Academy. Her steps quickened as she approached him, her eyes revealing a mix of concern and determination.
"Coriolanus, we need to talk," Monica implored, her voice tinged with worry. "What's happening? Why are they punishing you?"
Coriolanus, his once-confident demeanor now replaced by a defeated slouch, sighed heavily. "Monica, it's over. The Capitol has no tolerance for failure.I cheated in the games. I've been assigned to be a Peacekeeper in a distant district."
Her eyes widened with disbelief. "No, there has to be something we can do. I'll talk to my parents, we'll find a way to fix this."
He shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Your parents won't help. They never believed in us. They saw me as a means to an end, a way to maintain their precious status. Now that I'm tainted, they'll wash their hands of me."
Monica's determination wavered as she reached out to touch his arm. "Coriolanus, we can face this together. I'll stand by you, no matter what. We'll find a way."
His icy gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was a flicker of gratitude. However, as the weight of his impending departure settled in, an unexpected venom seeped into his words. "Monica, let's not pretend. Our love was a convenience, a way for me to survive in the Capitol. I never loved you. It was always about the money, the stability you offered."
Monica recoiled, her eyes welling up with tears. "Coriolanus, how can you say that? We've been through so much together. I believed in us."
His tone turned cold, matching the frost in his eyes. "Belief won't change anything. I've found someone who truly understands me, who doesn't see me as a pawn in their game. Lucy Gray — she's the one I love."
Monica felt the ground crumble beneath her. "Lucy Gray? After everything we've been through, you're leaving me for her?"
Coriolanus, unmoved by her distress, continued, "I need to go where she is, I need to make sure she is alive. District 12, where Lucy is. It's time to embrace the reality of my feelings."
Monica, torn between disbelief and heartbreak, struggled to find words. As Coriolanus turned to walk away, the shattered pieces of their once-unbreakable bond lay scattered, lost in the harsh winds of change.
Monica, though battered by Coriolanus's cutting words, refused to let despair consume her. As he turned to leave, she reached out, her hand trembling, and gently caught hold of his arm. "Coriolanus, please," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
He turned his expression a mixture of regret and determination. But before he could speak, Monica stepped into his arms, wrapping herself around him in a tight embrace. "It's okay," she whispered into his ear, her voice steady despite the quiver in her heart. "If this is where you need to be, then I'll support you. I'll love you from here, even if it hurts."
Coriolanus, taken aback by the unexpected gesture, hesitated for a moment. The cold exterior he had crafted began to crack as he felt the warmth of Monica's embrace. His icy resolve wavered, and for a fleeting moment, he questioned the choices he was making.
Monica continued, her voice filled with sincerity, "I promise to take care of Tigers and Grandma'am. I'll make sure they remember you. And I'll do my best to bring you back home, to us."
Coriolanus, conflicted and haunted by unspoken emotions, simply hugged her back. The weight of his actions hung heavily between them, but in that moment, the familiarity of their connection pushed through the turmoil. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, a silent acknowledgment of the love that lingered beneath the surface.
Monica, her eyes closed against the pain, whispered, "Be safe, Coriolanus. Find your happiness. I'll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes."
As he reluctantly pulled away, their eyes met one last time. In that gaze, a complex tapestry of emotions unfolded — love, regret, and the unspoken truth that lingered between them. Coriolanus, unable to voice what his heart truly felt, simply nodded, acknowledging the sacrifice Monica was making for him.
With one last glance, he turned away, leaving Monica standing in the dimly lit corridor, a pillar of strength despite the ache in her heart. As Coriolanus ventured into the unknown, the memory of her unwavering support lingered, a beacon of hope in the shadows of uncertainty.
---- Time skip
The days that followed were a blur of anguish for Monica. The weight of Coriolanus's departure pressed heavily on her shoulders, but she refused to let it crush her spirit. Determination fueled her actions as she navigated the challenges of keeping her promise to him.
Monica faced the disapproval of her own family, who viewed Coriolanus's fall from grace as a stain on their reputation. Yet, she stood resolute, deflecting their judgment with a grace that belied the turmoil within her. Tigers and Grandma'am, Coriolanus's family, found solace in Monica's unwavering support, and together, they faced the whispers and sidelong glances of Capitol society.
In her quiet moments, Monica grappled with the truth Coriolanus had laid bare — that their love was not what she had believed it to be. The sting of his words lingered, a persistent ache in her heart. Yet, in the face of adversity, Monica discovered a strength within herself that she never knew existed.
As she navigated the intricacies of Capitol politics, Monica found herself drawn to the cause of the Districts, a stark contrast to the privileged life she had known. The injustice of the Hunger Games, the oppressive rule of the Capitol — it all became painfully clear to her. Determined to make a difference, Monica secretly aligned herself with those who sought change.
The Capitol's grip on her life loosened as Monica immersed herself in this clandestine world. She forged alliances with rebels, learning the art of subversion and rebellion. Monica, once the epitome of Capitol elegance, now moved in the shadows, a silent force working against the very system she was born into.
---
The dusty air of District 12 clung to Coriolanus as he navigated the unfamiliar streets, his steps heavy with the weight of his choices. Lucy Gray walked beside him, her presence offering a semblance of comfort in this strange, new world. Sejanus, their unlikely companion, observed the surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and unease.
In the dimly lit bar they entered, the crackling sound of an old television caught their attention. The screen flickered, revealing the unmistakable visage of Dr. Volumnia Gaul, the architect of Capitol cruelty, as she delivered a broadcast.
"As a reminder of the consequences of treachery," Dr. Gaul's voice echoed through the bar, "we present the traitor who dared defy the Capitol's authority."
The camera shifted, revealing a face both familiar and heart-wrenching. It was Monica, pale and beaten, her eyes hollow with despair. Coriolanus felt a sharp intake of breath as he stared at the small screen, unable to comprehend the depths of betrayal that had transpired.
Lucy Gray's hand found its way to his, gripping it in silent support. Sejanus, too, watched with a mix of horror and sympathy, realizing the impact of the Capitol's ruthlessness on those who dared question it.
Dr. Gaul continued, her voice devoid of remorse, "This traitor provided aid to the districts, undermining the Capitol's authority. Let this be a warning to all who dare to defy us."
Coriolanus, his heart heavy with guilt, could hardly bear to watch as Monica's beaten form became a pawn in the Capitol's ruthless game. The realization hit him with a force that eclipsed the power of any Games he had ever witnessed.
As the broadcast concluded, the bar fell into an uneasy silence. The trio exchanged glances, each grappling with the harsh truth of the Capitol's brutality. Coriolanus, torn between loyalty and self-preservation, felt a surge of conflicting emotions.
---- Big time skip
Years had passed since the traumatic events in District 12. The Capitol's grip on the districts had tightened, and Coriolanus Snow found himself entangled in the web of political intrigue and power struggles. The memories of Monica and the haunting broadcast had become a distant ache, buried beneath layers of duty and survival.
In the garden of the presidential mansion, where whispers of rebellion echoed in the rustling leaves, Coriolanus found himself in the unexpected company of Katniss Everdeen. The air hung heavy with the weight of unspoken truths as they discussed the Capitol's ruthless tactics, particularly the bombings that targeted innocent children.
As they exchanged somber words, Coriolanus couldn't help but notice a delicate necklace around Katniss's neck — a small, silver chain with a pendant that bore a striking resemblance to the one Monica used to wear. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't suppress the urgency in his voice as he asked, "Where did you get that necklace?"
Katniss, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, touched the pendant thoughtfully. "It was my grandma's. She gave it to me before she passed away."
Coriolanus, trying to conceal the turmoil within, couldn't shake the feeling that the necklace held a connection to Monica. He probed further, "Your grandma's? Did she ever mention where she got it?"
Katniss shook her head, her expression clouded with sadness. "No, she never said. It was just a simple keepsake she wanted me to have. Why do you ask?"
A sense of unease settled over Coriolanus as he grappled with the possibility that Monica might have suffered a fate worse than he could have imagined. He hesitated before speaking, "It just looks remarkably similar to one someone I knew used to wear. A dear friend from a long time ago."
Katniss studied him intently, her gaze penetrating the carefully constructed facade.
Coriolanus Snow, unable to shake the eerie similarity between Katniss's necklace and Monica's, took a deep breath before venturing further into the delicate topic. "Tell me more about your grandmother, Katniss. What was she like?"
Katniss's eyes softened with nostalgia as she spoke of her grandmother, a resilient woman who had endured the harsh realities of District 12. She shared stories of strength, survival, and the enduring spirit that had been passed down through generations.
Listening intently, Coriolanus couldn't help but feel a growing weight of recognition. The details Katniss provided about her grandmother painted a vivid picture, one that seemed to align with the Monica he once knew — the Monica who had disappeared without a trace.
As Katniss spoke, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Monica, like Coriolanus, had been cast into the unforgiving embrace of District 12 by her parents as a form of punishment. The once wealthy and privileged girl had found herself entwined in the gritty reality of the impoverished district.
Coriolanus, his heart pounding in his chest, felt a mix of emotions swirling within him. Monica had not only survived but had built a life in District 12 — a life that transcended the confines of her origins. The revelation brought a bittersweet sense of closure to the wounds of the past.
The necklace, once a symbol of loss, now carried the weight of a profound connection. Monica's legacy lived on in Katniss, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit even in the face of adversity.
A complex tapestry of emotions played across Coriolanus's face — relief, regret, and a tinge of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, he found a measure of solace in knowing that Monica had forged her own path, a path that led to the birth of a courageous young woman who stood before him.
As the conversation with Katniss unfolded, Coriolanus couldn't escape the realization that the Capitol's attempts to break them had instead given rise to something far more powerful — a legacy of strength and defiance that endured in the face of oppression.
The necklace, now an emblem of intertwined destinies, served as a silent reminder of the choices they had made and the paths they had walked. Coriolanus, standing on the precipice of history, found himself reevaluating his role in the unfolding drama of Panem. The shadows of Monica's disappearance, once haunting, now held the promise of a resilient spirit that refused to be extinguished.
Rebel against something today. Not to feel cheesy, but maybe , just maybe , it’ll be the beginning of something you.
And no, this isn’t motivation. This is a battle note.
Oh. My god.
Have I got a story for yall.
So my schools principlal(ill call her doctor umbridge cuz she makes us call her dr. Principal) didn't let us have off on Halloween and to top it off, we couldn't wear costumes. First she said cuz it was unprofentional then cuz it had smt to do w/ religion[smh] and as you could guess, all the students w/out strict parents and could afford getting dresscoded came in costumes or face paint. Over. half. the school.
There were five girls in jugglo makeup, two of em were my friends. All but E had to take theirs off and last I saw her was 5th period, so ill learn tommarrow if she survived.
All the welders wore the same thing [green buttonups] and walked around w/ their masks on like storm troopers.
There was a Repunsel.
A Reeses cup.
S was a banana.
J was a leprochaun[cuz he's ginger].
There was a genshin impact character.
Chuckie.
Boo from monsters inc.
People that just had facepaint.
So many people got dresscoded.
Several were in ISS.
Cool teachers made student take off their costumes until they left class.
One dude got suspended for not taking his off.
Me, Twelve, E, and some other dude were the last ones.
And mine is literally regular clothes so no one could catch me.
I think I won.
[I know it's petty but highschools not long enough to care]