• 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!
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  • 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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» Reaping - District 6, Hunger Games 100.X
Jade
 Posted: Aug 11 2013, 06:40 PM
[QUOTE]
Staff
592
posts
20 Years
Female
5' 8''
140 lbs LBS
Capitol
3-August 12 • 715 Moneys

Jade


It’s late autumn. It doesn’t seem right that it’s getting so cold and here you are standing in the district square. You’re here with thousands and thousands of others who are in your district, and you’ve squeezed into the appropriate area that is teaming with banners and flags and balloons to celebrate this beautiful occasion. But it’s chilly, and you’re wearing a sweater, perhaps, and a cool wind flutters across the square.

The mayor, the escort, the district Victors and a couple of officials stand on the stage. Streamers hang over their heads celebrating the next Hunger Games.

It’s 2 PM. The square is silent as people wait, and finally the mayor stands up and welcomes you to the reaping of the 100th Hunger Games, Part X. He does not give the same standard speech that he normally does. Suddenly you are listening. It’s December, and you’ve already seen five Hunger Games this year. Instead you look around you. Children aged 12-18 stand in two sections—boys and girls—and arranged by age. They shift uncomfortably, even moreso than they normally do on such a day. Because the mayor has just informed them all that this Hunger Games will be different from ever before. This time the reaping pool is adults, and not just that, but relatives of those who were killed in the games. Those adults must then immediately pick a relative, aged 12-18, to go to the Hunger Games.

The mayor’s speech ends, and then there’s the televised programme shown on the large screens throughout the square. The president gives a speech. If you didn’t know the president, you might think that he was a kindly, aging gentleman. But he’s not. He has upheld the cruel ritualistic slaughter of children for years, and now he has mandated that more shall go each year to die. His speech ends, the national anthem plays, the screen goes blank, and all attention goes to the mayor.

The crowd holds its breath.

This is it. It could be your name. It could be your mother’s name, your sister’s name, your uncle’s name. You forget that it’s December and that it’s too cold to be standing here. All you can focus on are the next words to come from that great stage in front of you.

The mayor unrolls a scroll and reads,

“Panem is about growth and resilience. To give families a second chance, we are reaping those who had family members in previous Hunger Games. Each of the following citizens have been chosen by random draw...”

Liron Licent
(Father of Josiah Licent)

and

Yates Cramer
(Father of Kimberly Cramer)

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OoC: You may now post in this thread to show your characters’ reaction to the reaping. Because all characters must be present in their own district, please only post here if your character belongs in this district or is the district escort. However, any district resident of this district may post: the new tributes, other teenagers, district residents of all ages, victors, etc.

If your character was chosen to be a Tribute, congratulations. He or she will be lead off to the Justice Building and cannot escape. At the Justice Building, a handful of family and friends can come in one or two at a time to wish your character good bye. If you wish to RP this, please make a separate thread in the District Square.

OoC Note: If your character is a volunteer, they may choose to volunteer as soon as their relative's name is called. Otherwise the relative must instantly choose the character to be reaped.

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Josiah Licent
 Posted: Aug 11 2013, 08:44 PM
[QUOTE]
Intern
138
posts
18 Years
Male
5'9"
150 LBS
District Six
7-August 13 • 675 Moneys

Fading


All gave some, some gave all
But for what, I want to know


Josiah hated the Reapings, for more reasons than one. The first and foremost was that he'd stood in this very square with these very people when Voxe had been Reaped. She hadn't said anything about it being her time, but she always got fatalistic whenever the Reapings drew near, giving him long speeches about how he should be prepared for her death. He'd tuned some of it out, but he wished that he'd listened, especially given how things had turned out.

The second reason was that all these people knew who he was because of the panic attack, and for this reason, he avoided crowds. This was one event he couldn't avoid, and every time it had been a struggle. He didn't have the time to be afraid for his life because he was afraid of losing his mind again, of being found writhing on the floor and screaming like a hellion. It took all his concentration to hold himself together, keep his heart from exploding out of his chest and his stomach from emptying its meager contents onto the people around him.

In fact, once he was registered and standing in the square, he closed his eyes shut, thinking thoughts about a place far away from here. A place where Voxe was still alive and where it was just him and her, and maybe even her friend Sherlock, sitting and looking at clouds. He'd even imagine in glorious detail the clouds above and pretend he was divining shapes from them. Anything to keep his mind off the surging, whispering crowd of people who were undoubtedly looking at him and remembering.

Carry on, don't mind me
All I gave was everything
And yet you ask me for more?


His strategy was blown to smithereens by the mayor's announcement of a twist. The relatives of those who'd gone into the Games before would be Reaped. The adult's names would be picked, and then they'd have to choose one of their eligible relatives. His heart literally skipped a beat, then raced, beats coming faster and faster onto each other.

Voxe had never said anything about him dying. Even now, he depended on her mystic words, on her claims of a sixth sense and knowledge beyond what other people could know. He knew some of it was bullshit, sure, but still... she was sometimes right. How could she have not seen something like this? He was going to be sick. He felt his stomach twisting itself into so many knots, almost to the point of physical pain.

He fought the rising hysteria unsuccessfully, and his fingertips were shaking by the time the president's speech ended. He was drenched in his own sweat, chilled by the frosty air, and he felt like his whole life had gone down to this single moment in time, as the mayor unrolled a scroll. The sound of that paper shuffling was far too loud, pounding against his ears.

Then his father's name was called.

He couldn't breathe. His breaths were noisy and labored, yet he still felt like he was being choked. Somehow, his mind was almost distant from what his body was doing now, as he watched his father mosey up on the stage. Liron Licent was a short, hunched man with an ever-present scraggle of facial hair. He was stoned, per normal, and squinted at the too bright light on his face as someone lead him up to the mike.

Josiah felt someone touch his shoulder, heard vaguely someone asking, "Dude, are you okay?", but he jumped away from their touch as if it was an electric shock.

Liron Licent had no idea why he was up on stage. The mayor had to explain to him several times what was expected of him, and still he didn't really get it. He didn't understand the importance. Josiah knew he was doomed since his father was called. Maybe his mother would have remembered that he had cousins, would have known to throw them to the wolves instead of her own son, but his father's mental capacity was so numbed by the morphling that he couldn't know. He wouldn't even remember the day he had sent his own son to his death.

His voice was confused and there was a question to the words he spoke as he said, "Jo--Josiah?"

Earlier, Josiah had thought that it would suck to know you were going to die. He'd been talking to some girl about Voxe, a girl who wouldn't shut up. He'd thought about dying abstractly then, but he was sure now that he was going to die. It wasn't even a question in his mind. That tipped him over the edge.

It was a repeat of Voxe's death writ large, for surely all of the nation watched as Josiah Licent fell convulsing to the ground, screaming unintelligibly at the top of his lungs, crying out like a man dying. Yet even in this, he was aware as Peacekeepers parted the crowd and pulled him up onto the stage, up in front of the cold, unfeeling eyes of what seemed like thousands of cameras.

The cowards preach on pedestals
With words like courage and resolve
But one thing that will f*ck them all
Is freedom isn't free


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Windy Procyon
 Posted: Aug 12 2013, 03:06 AM
[QUOTE]
Student
292
posts
13 Years
n/a
5'1
94.6 LBS
District Six
20-November 12 • 1465 Moneys

Patsy


Windy's outfit

Windy stood up on the stage, standing next to her old mentor, the mentor of herself and her siblings and so many other kids. She bit her lower lip as she listened to what the mayor was saying. This time it would be different? What did they mean by that? Would all the champions have to go back into the games? or the victors, or maybe just adults? The young champion bit on her lower lip, she wanted to take a hold of Hal's hand, but she didn't dare to. First of she didn't know how he would react, secondly, people would probably think that she was just a little girl. Well they would be right, she was just a little girl. She would admit that, she was just a scared little girl who should not be there.

Adults being reaped? Having to choose someone from their family to go as a tribute? It was terrible. Windy didn't know where to look. She didn't want to look at the adults, she didn't want to look at the father who seemed not to know what to say, so he said his son's name. Windy didn't know him, but she found it sad. It must be worse to have your father say your name, sending you into the arena. Surely the boy had other relatives? Right? The girl too, a old man or old in Windy's eyes came up onto the stage and said his daughters name.

Tears ran down her cheek as she watched, she didnt want to watch anymore. Her thoughts of everyone watching disappeared and she took a hold of Hal's hand. Squeezing it, and using her other hand to dry her tears away. It being cold didn't matter anymore, Windy was just upset that more kids/teenagers had to be sent to the arena by their families. No one deserved this, it wasn't fair. It was just not fair.

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Hal Chamilsa
 Posted: Aug 12 2013, 04:46 AM
[QUOTE]
Victor of the 75th Games
326
posts
40 Years
Male
6"1
198 LBS
District Six
7-December 11 • 635 Moneys

Jimmy


Hal had a hard time deciding if he should mentor this time. These Games were a surprise, a bitter reminder of how controlled they were by the whim of the Capitol.

And to think that last time he was just happy that he could go for a few months without having to worry about getting to know more kids only to watch them die... At least there were less kids this time. Just two this time... That was... good.

He had nearly ditched on the idea of mentoring entirely, but that wasn't fair to Windy. She was young - very young... But perhaps if he fostered her - allowed her to officially mentor one this time... and then one every time until she turned fourteen... It would just be a few Games. Three? It would give her some experience and, by then, he could maybe take a less active role at the Capitol and a more active role at home with his children, almost especially Holly and Hawthorne.

But he decided to go, hiring on a good nurse that could help out the avox he already owned to help care for them in his absence. He felt bad, but there wasn't much to do for it as Hal stood on the platform.

Hal watched in his chair next to Windy's as the parents were called up - and the children... He felt her grab his hand and didn't deny her this. He simply held on back to the small child - the one that had managed the miracle of getting out of the Arena, even if he couldn't say that it was the one he would have liked to see survive in the beginning. He might have hugged the child, but there were more pressing matters at hand... At least, for now.

"Don't worry." He whispered to her. "We can manage this."

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Pepper Chamilsa
 Posted: Aug 12 2013, 05:03 AM
[QUOTE]
Student / Career
44
posts
16 Years
Female
5"4
137 LBS
District Six
18-October 12 • 200 Moneys

Jimmy


Pepper watched the reaping with mounting dread.

One would think that, after all this time, she would catch a break, but clearly that was not the case. She had had four people she was directly related to become tributes. Three of those people had died. The fourth was Hal Chamilsa, her father.

If his name was called, she might as well just volunteer, because there was no one else.

She had dressed warmly for the occasion and, unlike previous Reapings, hadn't even cared to be even slightly formal. It seemed as time went on, she cared less and less about being what the Capitol considered presentable at the Reapings. It was not that she would ever come in her pajama or in nothing, but simply that she didn't want to give them control over what she wore like they controlled how much time she did end up spending at home - training for her imminent death.

And Dad's name was not called, which only let some sense of relief watch over her. She had gotten a little more time - just a little more time. After all, she had just turned sixteen. It was just a few more years. A few more years before she would be free - finally free.

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Kimberly Cramer
 Posted: Aug 12 2013, 01:32 PM
[QUOTE]
Student
105
posts
15 Years
Female
5'4
116 LBS
District Six
7-August 13 • 0 Moneys

Marr


Kimberly bundled up that morning. The brisk air hitting her face so harshly that she couldn't help but shiver. She hated cold mornings and as the day went on, the temperature, to her of course, never rose at all. She felt warm and safe inside her many layers, her hands fitting snugly inside her pockets. She looked down at her dress shoes, making sure they were spot free. She had worked on them for a while before she made sure her outfit was perfect. With as many people that were going to be around, so many to talk to, that she wanted to have something to say. At least, if nothing was interesting to happen during the reaping, then she could always say something about her shoes or her many layers due to the chill. She glanced beside her to her sisters and smiled.

"Another day. Are you worried?" She asked her youngest sister, seeing the look on her face. "Don't worry though. They won't pick you at all. Your almost too young to go anyways. Besides, there was only a one in fourth chance of being picked... the odds are on our side this time. Nevermind the games. Just make sure you smile. Alright?"

Kimberly nodded and walked on, letting them fall behind as they began to whisper to each other. Their parents were far behind her, allowing them to check in before the mayor would give his speech. Reaping day was always something she dreaded, but it would never happen to her, not again at least. It was always to someone else. Like that girl, whose brother she had spoken to recently. What was her name? Oh yes. Voxe. She mentally reminded herself. How could she even let that slip her mind so easily? She turned around to say something to her parents but they were gone. They had already disappeared among the crowd of adults. She shrugged and took her place among the girls her age.

"I got to speak to that boy the other day, the one who had the breakdown, remember me telling you that? His sister's name was Voxe." She told her friend. She looked to Kimberly with fear on her face and not seeming to care much. She shushed her, but it didn't stop her voice from continueing. "He and I had such a conversation and...."

The mayor's voice chimed out and Kimberly stopped talking and listened to the man on the stage. The greetings were the same, like always but there was something off. The twist he announced, would ultimately effect everyone in the square... at least those who have had relatives die in the games.

"Logan..." She whispered out. She searched the adults area for her parents, but they were busy looking to the stage. She did see her mother's eyes scan for her two siblings and then back to the stage. Not once, did she look to her. She felt her stomach drop. "Logan... please..."

As she stood with the girls, there was a name called out and suddenly an adult was taking the stage. Liron had made the mayor repeated several times for a name and the moment that he stuttered out his son's name, she gasped. It was him. The one she had talked to not long ago about his sister. About things that she wanted to know more about. Did he see it coming? Had his sister told him this would happen to him? She could feel her heart race when he began to break down again. This time, she saw it first hand and it bothered her. Was it because she had finally gotten to speak to him, tried to befriend him? He was pulled to the stage with no reguards to his sudden breakdown. She felt bad for him.

Then almost as suddenly as he was on stage, the mayor called out yet another name and it felt almost familiar. Yates Cramer, Yates Cramer... That's when her eyes darted quickly to see the man walking up to the stage. Her father. HEr own fleshing blood was walking through the valley of death. All eyes on him and she felt an equal amount of eyes on her. She fought against the temptation to look around. To ask her friends and girls around her what they were staring at, but all she could do was whisper out to him.

"Daddy. Don't do it. Please... Logan wouldn't want you to. Don't do it. Don't..." She watched as he took the stage and the next words out of his mouth, was low, almost pained, but he spoke clearly.

"Kimberly... Cramer..."

She felt her world come crashing down around her. Whispers coming from all directions. She could feel her neck burning. She shook her head and heard one girl whisper out.

It's the chatterbox....

Kimberly bit her lip and stuck her chin up and even though she was trembling and felt like crying, she wouldn't let them see her fear. If she was going to be the one to have gossip spread about her, she wanted it to be for a good reason. She took to the stage, beside Josiah. Her eyes darting around to everyone she stood in front of. For the first time, speechless.

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