• Next Hunger Games
    Our next Hunger Games is a little different than our previous ones. Called "Battle Royale," this Hunger Games will feature one lucky class to be sent to the Hunger Games together. Mr. Dressler's honors history class tried to ignite revolution in Panem. And for their trouble, they will be sent to the arena together. Join us by making a high school junior (16-17 years old) from District 11. See the Battle Royale Subforum for more information. We aim to start in December so now's the time to start developing your character!
  • Staff
    Gem
    Head Admin
    GMT -8
    Jade
    Games Admin
    GMT -6
    Fading
    Admin
    GMT -?
    Lux
    Moderator
    GMT -?
    Callanthas
    Moderator
    GMT -7
  • Credits
    Thank you to Suzanne Collins for the creation of Panem and The Hunger Games trilogy. And thank you for the following people who contributed to site design: Ring Wang: banner slideshow code, Revo: fixed sidebar code, Gem: site skin(s).

    And many thanks to Sixth Station members for their characters, posts, creativity and work. Thank you to everyone mentioned and unmentioned for the work put into making this site the great board it is.

Thank You

After four years, we have decided to close down Sixth Station. The site has meant so much to many of us who spent countless hours into our game. Thank you to everyone who has been a part of our game.

The 101-Fall Hunger Games are wrapping up. You have 24-48 hours to enter the final posts. Members can still post in the "History of Sixth Station" and the "Connection" forums.



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» * behind this wall ,, tag: kenneth <333
Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Mar 13 2012, 03:18 PM
[QUOTE]
82nd Games
323
posts
28 Years
Female
5'3"
113 LBS
District Eight
14-November 11 • 20 Moneys

Rachel




user posted image
you just walked through it.


She wasn't sure what it was that stopped her from falling -- her own half-regaining of balance, or the hands that steadied her before she could fully begin to plummet towards the ground. Still, all she was really aware of was the fact that her skin tingled where he'd gripped on her arms to hold her up, and she looked up to meet his gaze with startled brown eyes.

"Are you all right?" It seemed like a little too much effort to force herself to narrow her eyes, set her mouth in a straight, determined line -- so she only stared at him. The idea that someone would try to help her, try to catch her when it wasn't even that big of a fall in the first place, was beyond her. Nobody ever needed to help her. She could take care of herself, and since she was around thirteen, the whole of Panem had been able to figure that out for themselves.

Thorne opened her mouth to answer, and his gaze dropped like a stone to his feet. "Sorry." He said it quickly, quietly, as though he were afraid of what she might say.

She took a step back, putting a little bit of much-needed distance between them. She wasn't completely sure what was going on -- the tingling skin, the way her heart had skipped a beat as she met his eyes -- but she didn't like it. It was too different.

"I'm fine," she snapped, a little bitterly compared to her usual cool, emotionless tone. Then, turning away enough that she could only see his silhouette in the very corner of her vision, she surveyed the lake before her. The water lay still, as clear as glass, the sun sparkling over it as it rose a little further over the tree tops on the opposite side. It's beautiful. God, no, she wasn't going to say that out loud.

OUTFIT.



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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Mar 13 2012, 04:34 PM
[QUOTE]
Factory Worker
66
posts
30 Years
Male
6'0"
149 LBS
District Eight
25-December 11 • 330 Moneys

Fading


"Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she (dear She) might take some pleasure of my pain...


She walked away towards the water, and Kenneth was left staring at the cliff face, fighting with the strange feelings swarming up inside him, hoping that they didn't show plainly on his face. His fists were clenched at his sides. He almost wished he had let her fall--hadn't touched her--if it would take away the disapproval he now felt.

"I'm fine," she said. Kenneth closed his eyes. I know. I know. It almost made him wish he hadn't caught her, but only a little. Because she would have been hurt if he hadn't. Better that his feelings were hurt than her actual person come to harm. Wasn't that a peculiar thing to think about a stranger?

He turned around and looked at her, standing there near the lake. The sun was well above the horizon now, shedding golden light on the calm waves lapping against the shore. Kenneth began murmuring the poem before he could even begin to write it down, and his hands moved almost instinctively to open his backpack and pull out his journal.

"The lady of the lake fell from the sky... Though she has wings, she cannot fly... The sun caresses her cold face..." He was writing now, and he trailed off before he could say the last line. His voice was soft, and he hoped his words were covered by the sound of the lake. ...And sets my heart ablaze.

...Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know."
"Sonnet 1" in Astrophel and Stella by Sir Phillip Sidney

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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Mar 13 2012, 08:30 PM
[QUOTE]
82nd Games
323
posts
28 Years
Female
5'3"
113 LBS
District Eight
14-November 11 • 20 Moneys

Rachel




user posted image
you just walked through it.


A whisper behind her, or perhaps the words were loud enough for her to have heard them if not for the breeze that swept along the side of the lake from her right, picking up her hair like the strings of a puppet and tugging her along with it for a moment. She glanced over her shoulder to find that he'd pulled out a notebook and was scribbling -- perhaps not scribbling, he was writing just a little too carefully to call it that -- over its lined pages. He had fallen silent now, as the wind stopped just as abruptly as it had begun.

She watched him for a long moment, quiet, the only sound a bird somewhere in the trees, singing loudly enough to be heard even from where she stood. It sounded too happy. Like it was watching them, thinking that she should give into the surreal sort of tug that made her want to take a few steps and stand closer to him again. Before she could stop herself, she spoke quietly, fighting to keep the curiosity from her tone. "What are you writing?"

OUTFIT.



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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Mar 15 2012, 11:58 AM
[QUOTE]
Factory Worker
66
posts
30 Years
Male
6'0"
149 LBS
District Eight
25-December 11 • 330 Moneys

Fading


"Snared about her winsome glance
And mad about the town...


"What are you writing?" Kenneth stopped abruptly, thinking that he'd have to finish later. He snapped the book shut and walked to stand near her again. "Nothing important." Then, he opened the book, careful not to turn to the last page--where he'd been writing just moments before--and explained more. "Just poems I've written. Some plays and stories. And some things passed down from my parents, poems by great people in the past."

He stopped on one page, looked down, and began reading: "From fairest creatures we desire increase, that thereby beauty's increase might never die..." He paused, tilting the book towards her so she could see more clearly.

...Every boy's a clown."
"Sally" by Johnny Flynn

Shakespeare's Sonnet 1 quoted: here

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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Mar 19 2012, 07:26 AM
[QUOTE]
82nd Games
323
posts
28 Years
Female
5'3"
113 LBS
District Eight
14-November 11 • 20 Moneys

Rachel




user posted image
you just walked through it.


He froze now, a split second during which neither of them moved a muscle. Then, looking up and taking a couple of long strides to bring himself level with her again, he snapped the book shut abruptly. "Nothing important." As if to contradict himself, he began to flip through the pages -- line upon line of words that Thorne couldn't read, not when he turned the pages so quickly. "Just poems I've written. Some plays and stories. And some things passed down from my parents, poems by great people in the past."

A poet. Quiet and strong and, as much as she didn't particularly want to admit it, handsome -- and then there was that strange shock when he had taken her hand -- what did it mean? A sort of tingling when their fingers had brushed together, as though her entire body was very suddenly aware of how close he'd been; and the awe, she'd been amazed by it -- which had been oh-so-confusing. And that had disgusted her, which now she wondered, with a wave of guilt, if he had realized.

Thorne's gaze flickered up to meet his eyes for a moment as he began to read out loud. "From fairest creatures we desire increase, that thereby beauty's rose might never die..." He tilted the notebook towards her, and she narrowed her eyes at the page.

From fairest creatures we desire increase, that thereby beauty's rose might never die, but as the riper should by time decrease, his tender heir might bear his memory... She didn't quite understand it, but as far as Thorne had been able to tell over the years, that seemed to be the sign of something well-written, didn't it? "Did you write this?" She looked up at him again, brown eyes widened slightly, the sun turning her hair to gold.

OUTFIT.



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Fading
 Posted: Mar 19 2012, 03:02 PM
[QUOTE]
THE DOGE
861
posts
19 Years
Female
5'10"
140 LBS
Capitol
28-October 11 • 2960 Moneys

Fading


user posted image


"All tongues, the voice of souls
Give thee that due, Uttering bare truth...


And more than ever before, that sonnet seemed to apply. Because at that moment she was reading it, he really did wish that this woman would never die. She'd cheated death before, in the Games, but he wished she would never grow old. That she would stay young and beautiful forever. Like the old poet of a long time before wrote, the fairest beauties should never die.

In the next lines, it talked about heirs. That's how beauty could last forever--a beauty passed down to her children and children to come. He blushed mildly at this thought, and let himself get sufficiently distracted by her question. "No. This was written by someone a long time ago. I don't know who wrote it, unfortunately." He gazed at it again, then flipped the page.

"Ah, here's one I wrote," he said, and turned the notebook towards her again.

((Removed. If you still need it, I can pm it to you.))


He waited to gauge her reaction to it.

...Even so as foes commend."
- "Sonnet 69" by Shakespeare
Poem quoted in post is written by Fading. Removed after 3 days to prevent thievery.

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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Mar 30 2012, 07:20 PM
[QUOTE]
82nd Games
323
posts
28 Years
Female
5'3"
113 LBS
District Eight
14-November 11 • 20 Moneys

Rachel




user posted image
you just walked through it.


There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke; Thorne waited, frowning slightly, unsure why he hadn't answered. When he finally replied, it was quietly, with his gaze fixed downwards, to the page fluttering in the breeze before him like a trapped bird. "No," he muttered. "This was written by someone a... long time ago. I don't know who wrote it, unfortunately." He caught the edge of the page, reminding her of fingers closing on the tip of a snow-white wing, and turned to the next. "Ah, here's one I wrote."

He tilted the journal towards her again, though not quite so far, and she had to lean towards him slightly to read it. Her bare arm brushed against his for just a moment, a split second before she pulled away again, resigning to scanning the poem from a little farther away. From what she could tell, really, it was about a girl, someone beautiful but cruel, with dark eyes. Sovereign, that was what he called her in his neat handwriting.

"It's good," she said, truthfully, though she wasn't sure how good her judgment would be in this sort of situation. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn't the best with words, written or spoken.

OUTFIT.


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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Mar 31 2012, 05:37 PM
[QUOTE]
Factory Worker
66
posts
30 Years
Male
6'0"
149 LBS
District Eight
25-December 11 • 330 Moneys

Fading


Kenneth felt thrilled at the touch of her skin against his, but she pulled back too quickly for him to process the emotion fully. Still, he was far from disappointed when Thorne told him the poem was good. In a way, he almost felt like the poem described her. Someone who was beautiful, yet so far removed, so cold, that no one could gauge her true character.

He closed the journal, looking up at the sun. He said almost absently, "My shift starts soon." But he really didn't want to leave. If she only said it, he would stay with her the whole day. Kenneth wanted to know more about her, more so that she wouldn't be like the Sovereign he spoke of in his poem, far beyond his reach.

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