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» * behind this wall ,, tag: kenneth <333
Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Jan 13 2012, 06:01 PM
[QUOTE]
323 posts

28 years x Female

5'3" x 113 lbs

82nd Games
District Eight
Rachel

Moneys: 20
Member No.: 458
Join Date: 14-November 11



user posted image
you just walked through it.


The forest was quiet, nearly silent, and it was strangely comforting.

The gazes that drilled into the back of her head as she walked down the street these days weren't the kind she was used to. Perhaps it was only her imagination, but suddenly the citizens of District 8 had flipped the switch between scared and amused. It was because of everything they had watched on the screen, she knew it.

They'd watched as Thorne had scooped up supplies and run from the bloodbath without a scratch; they'd seen the complete and utter boring qualities of the days she'd spent with Oliver and Eden. They had watched a giant fish mutt chase them apart, watched as she walked through the underwater silence of the arena, watched as Peronelle Howard had shot an arrow, called out -- no answer and she'd shot again. They'd watched Thorne crumple to the ground like a broken doll and weakly toss a knife at Peronelle's back as she walked away.

They had all heard Thorne's cannon go off, and now she was back, walking around with the pain in her chest and stomach finally disappearing, and they weren't scared of her anymore.

She stopped in a strange, ragged rectangle of a clearing, dropped her backpack to lie at her feet and slipped her knives out; lined them up with their blades sinking into the grass and stood up straight again with the last one -- or the first one, perhaps -- between her fingers. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she selected her target -- the fairly-skinny trunk of a tree at the opposite end of the clearing, its base hidden by shrubs and bushes. The joint between the trunk and the second branch, that would be her aim.

She whipped the first knife across the opening between the trees and its sharp, silver blade embedded itself close, but not exactly where she had hoped. She scooped up the next knife by its shining hilt and sent it sailing after the first. Closer, but not perfect; next knife, and then the next, then the next. The whistling of the birds stopped, as though they preferred the whistle of blade through slow-moving air, and the only sounds she could identify were the constant low whistle of knives flying through the air, a thud each time a blade hit its mark, closer and closer to the target she'd chosen, and her own heartbeat.

Running out of knives to fling at the skinny tree, Thorne picked up her backpack, swinging it over one shoulder and crossing the clearing to retrieve them.

OUTFIT.
I guess I'm picturing Kenneth sitting under that tree she's throwing knives at... But whatever you want (:



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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Jan 25 2012, 12:09 PM
[QUOTE]
66 posts

30 years x Male

6'0" x 149 lbs

Factory Worker
District Eight
Fading

Moneys: 330
Member No.: 540
Join Date: 25-December 11

"Long walks in the dark
Through woods grown behind the park...


The sun had not yet dawned as Kenneth walked towards the forest beyond the fence. What seemed an insurmountable barrier couldn't keep him out. He turned back for a long moment and gazed at the fence, wondering how many people lived their whole lives never daring to go beyond it.

Why? Were they afraid of what might lurk beyond? The Peacekeepers would tell you that there were wild animals out in the forest, and there were, but most left him alone. Perhaps people were afraid not of the wolves outside the fence, but the ones within, who would find out and punish any who went beyond the fence.

It was uncertainty, really. The uncertainty of whether one would get caught in the barrier or beyond it. He thought it was sad that no one dared to spill outside the fence and see the beauty that the Capitol had kept away from the city. Out here, he could breathe freely, even though his perpetual cough remained. Here, he could see the sunrise over an endless sea of green. Here, there was beauty.

He broke from his musings and trekked further under the cover of the trees, a backpack slung over both shoulders. There was a clearing about half a mile back into the trees, and Kenneth made his way towards it. He frequented various places near District Eight, but the clearing was one of his favorites. Instead of sitting in the center of the glade, he climbed up into the branches of a thick tree, scratching his hands against the rough bark.

Kenneth settled himself into a fork in the tree, taking a tattered notebook out of his backpack and opening it. He waited, his pencil hovering over the stained, worn paper.

Outside of the fence
The sun rises on quiet trees
A dangerous game


It was rather quiet out today. No breeze stirred the branches, though the air still held a biting chill. He was finishing the last word of the poem when he heard a whistle break the stillness of the forest. He cringed as he heard it strike something solid, then put his notebook and pencil back in his bag. He peered out of the twisted, bare branches of his tree to see a knife stuck into the trunk of a smaller, thin birch nearby.

He thought back to what he had just written, about dangerous games and a stillness that was both alive and dead at the same time. Kenneth couldn't count how many flew, like steel birds hitting the same spot nearly every time. But instead of hiding further in the branches to avoid being seen, he crept forward as he heard the sound of footsteps coming to retrieve the knives.

His clothes were rather dull colors, greys and tans, so he blended in with the branches of the trees. The person who came into view didn't look like a Peacekeeper; she wore normal clothes and looked as though she was alone. Alone because she wanted to be. He stayed as still as he could, simply watching as the sky grew lighter.

...I had a dream
I could fly from the highest tree."


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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Jan 25 2012, 04:42 PM
[QUOTE]
323 posts

28 years x Female

5'3" x 113 lbs

82nd Games
District Eight
Rachel

Moneys: 20
Member No.: 458
Join Date: 14-November 11



user posted image
you just walked through it.


As she reached up, fingers closing around the shining hilt of the first of the knives, a strange, creeping sort of sensation crawled up her spine. Shivering lightly, only for a moment, Thorne tugged hard and the blade emerged from the wood, bearing a couple of splintered shavings of bark on its sharp edge. She slipped the dagger back into her bag, took hold of the next, pulled. It dropped into her pack with a metallic clink.

It was as though she were being watched. It matched the feeling she constantly seemed to have when she was in the arena; eyes following her every move.

Stupid, that was stupid. Nobody could be watching her. The clearing was as silent as could be.

So she ignored it. Another knife, then another, and another, and they all slid into the backpack, clink clink clink, the sound echoing off the trees around her. When the bark was free of silver blades, leaving only skinny dark lines to mark where they had embedded themselves in the wood, Thorne turned around and began to line the knives up in the grass again, tips digging down into the dirt.

She straightened, glanced around to select a new tree as a target --

There.

Yes, someone had been watching her. Blending in with the tree branches behind the leaves with his dull, dust-coloured clothes, holding his breath. Thorne met his eyes for a brief moment; she considered pretending she hadn't seen him and choosing the tree he perched in to hurl her knives at, but decided against it and instead chose a tall tree several feet in the opposite direction.

Sending her first knife whistling through the air again, she spoke to the eyes hiding in the tree branches at her back. "Finding this interesting?"

OUTFIT.



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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Jan 27 2012, 12:02 PM
[QUOTE]
66 posts

30 years x Male

6'0" x 149 lbs

Factory Worker
District Eight
Fading

Moneys: 330
Member No.: 540
Join Date: 25-December 11

"Silent birds sing a
Song of new and old, twining...


She was methodical, ripping the knives out from the heart of the tree. All the birds had fallen quiet, and the only sounds he could hear was the tearing of bark, a metallic clink, and his own slow breaths in and out. Kenneth thought he recognized her, but for now, he couldn't put a name to the woman.

Throwing knives. You know someone who throws knives. He didn't know personally, but there was someone. Someone famous from the District. If only he didn't spend so much time with his head stuck in the clouds, he would be able to come up with it quicker. He hadn't had a clear glimpse of her face yet; he didn't dare move to get a clearer picture.

She turned and walked back to the center of the clearing. As she did, Kenneth crept back into the cleft of the tree, moving as slowly as possible as he straightened up. Part of him wanted to climb down and leave before the woman saw him, but the greater part of him wanted to stay. He still didn't know who she was, and he felt like there was something sparking to life in the cold, dry air around.

She straightened up after she had arranged her knives, and that's when their eyes met. He knew who she was now, though he had never seen her this close. But he remembered her face from the television. Thorne Lohrasbe.

She turned around, throwing her first knife at another tree. "Finding this interesting?" He straightened up fully now, since she had seen him. Kenneth swung one leg over the branch and sat there, facing her back. "Very," he replied. "Even the birds are interested," he mused, for they had fallen strangely silent.

...stealing any breath."


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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Jan 27 2012, 02:20 PM
[QUOTE]
323 posts

28 years x Female

5'3" x 113 lbs

82nd Games
District Eight
Rachel

Moneys: 20
Member No.: 458
Join Date: 14-November 11



user posted image
you just walked through it.


"Very," answered the eyes' owner. Thorne pulled another knife from where it stood, hilt stretching up to meet her reaching fingertips, in the grass. "Even the birds are interested." Whistle, thud. It was true, wasn't it? The birds that had been singing in the clearing as she'd arrived had fallen silent, simply watching her with beady dark eyes from the branches they perched in.

He was like a bird, she decided. She hadn't seen him all that clearly, only his eyes and half of his shadowed face behind the leaves of the tree he had apparently claimed as his own. His eyes, as far as she could tell in that little glimpse, were the colour of the dark dirt at her feet, only richer, yet still darker than chocolate --

His eye colour didn't matter. It didn't.

The silence had fallen again as she threw the third knife, then the fourth. She straightened with the fifth gripped lightly between her fingers, refusing to glance over her shoulder at his eyes again. Perhaps she would be able to see more if she looked again, piece together the rest of the incomplete image of him she currently held in her mind --

No. No, she wasn't looking again. It didn't matter.

"The birds aren't interested," Thorne told him coolly. She drew back her arm. Whistle, thud. A small colony of knife-hilts embedded in a tree. She could paint a outline a picture with them. Her name, written in the bark of a tree with glinting silver letters. Interesting, but no. She would settle for a simple cluster of shining knives. "They're afraid."

OUTFIT.



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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Jan 28 2012, 11:33 AM
[QUOTE]
66 posts

30 years x Male

6'0" x 149 lbs

Factory Worker
District Eight
Fading

Moneys: 330
Member No.: 540
Join Date: 25-December 11

"They have gone through me,
Like wine through water...


She was quiet again, and Kenneth scarcely moved as he simply watched her throw knife after knife into her new targeted tree. His breath fogged out in front of him, but less regular, quickening in pace, even though he wasn't moving. It was as if his whole being was poised, waiting for her to speak again.

"The birds aren't interested." There was a pause as she threw another knife. "They're afraid." Kenneth thought about this for a moment, almost tempted to draw out his notebook and write down the fragments of words and ideas in his mind. Instead, he slipped down from the tree, carefully working down through the branches until his feet touched solid ground again.

"Interest and fear can be one and the same, can they not?" he asked, stepping forward until he stood at the edge of the clearing. He dared go no farther. "Fear... it's like awe, such a terrible awe at terrible beauty. There's fear when a man looks at a raging fire, or a bolt of lightning striking the ground... but at the same time... Interest. Awe." Maybe some part of him realized he was speaking as much about the birds as he was about himself, but it didn't creep up into his consciousness.

...and altered the color of my mind."
- Wuthering Heights


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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Jan 28 2012, 09:10 PM
[QUOTE]
323 posts

28 years x Female

5'3" x 113 lbs

82nd Games
District Eight
Rachel

Moneys: 20
Member No.: 458
Join Date: 14-November 11



user posted image
you just walked through it.


The sound of shoes slipping on rough bark; Thorne picked up her next knife. Weight on grass and dirt, whistle, thud, footsteps. Slow, cautious. "Interest and fear can be one and the same, can they not?" The next knife made its way to her fingertips. "Fear," he announced, halting as he reached the edge of the grass. She could see him out of the corner of her eye now, a sharp profile of his features. "It's like awe. Such terrible awe at terrible beauty."

Whistle, thud. "There's fear when a man looks at a raging fire," he continued. Intelligent, calm. "Or a bolt of lightning striking the ground..." Thorne reached down for a moment before drawing herself up again with a new knife in hand. He was tall, towering over her. But he was too calm, too poetic-sounding, to possibly be as dangerous as a victor. "But at the same time, interest. Awe."

She still didn't turn to face him. She didn't need to see him properly. It didn't matter, she told herself. It didn't matter. Raising one eyebrow slightly, Thorne narrowed her eyes at the tree where her knives were gathering. "Are you calling me a fire or lightning here?"

OUTFIT.




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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Jan 29 2012, 03:33 PM
[QUOTE]
66 posts

30 years x Male

6'0" x 149 lbs

Factory Worker
District Eight
Fading

Moneys: 330
Member No.: 540
Join Date: 25-December 11

"The world to me was a secret,
Which I desired to discover...


She still hadn't turned to look at him, so Kenneth settled for watching her back, leaning against a nearby tree. She had slowed her throwing rate, only throwing one knife as he spoke. "Are you calling me fire or lightning here?" He looked down at the ground, studying the ends of his worn boots and the frosted grass at his feet.

He thought for a moment, then replied suddenly, "Lightning." He looked up, continuing, "Lightning strikes trees; it's quick, sudden, and deadly." Kenneth paused, then spoke on, "Fire is slow, burning, smoldering. Your force is a sudden discharge of power, not spread over much time or lingering on."

Once he finished speaking, he looked back down at the ground.

"...to her it was a vacancy."
- Frankenstein


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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Jan 31 2012, 06:09 PM
[QUOTE]
323 posts

28 years x Female

5'3" x 113 lbs

82nd Games
District Eight
Rachel

Moneys: 20
Member No.: 458
Join Date: 14-November 11



user posted image
you just walked through it.


A silence. Thorne's lips curved upwards at the corners, and she sent her next knife into the tree across the clearing with another whistle, thud. Then --

"Lightning."

Another pause, barely a second, and he continued. "Lightning strikes trees -- it's quick, sudden, and deadly." She supposed it was a good metaphor, if she was going to be something so utterly destructive, wasn't it? "Fire is slow, burning, smoldering. Your force is a sudden discharge of power, not spread over much time or lingering on."

Thorne looked back over her shoulder to meet his eyes, but found that he was looking down at his shoes. Turning away again, she picked up the next knife -- the second-to-last knife -- and sent it sailing after the rest of them. Then the last knife, its hilt cool in her fingers. She drew her arm back to throw it, changed her mind; her hand dropped to her side and she spun back around to face him properly.

"Are you scared of me?"

God, what had made her say that? She shouldn't have. She didn't really want to know. No, scratch that. Two possible answers -- one, she would have preferred to know, and the second, she didn't. But it was too late to catch the tail end of the question as it slipped from her lips, and she could only stand in front of him with the final dagger clutched in her right hand and her breath coming out in light clouds.

OUTFIT.




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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Jan 31 2012, 08:00 PM
[QUOTE]
66 posts

30 years x Male

6'0" x 149 lbs

Factory Worker
District Eight
Fading

Moneys: 330
Member No.: 540
Join Date: 25-December 11

"The piano plays
Softly my life's harmony...


The ground really could become interesting if one stared hard enough at it. Kenneth could see patterns in the blades of grass, their uniformity and their discord, their meshing together and their pulling apart. And in between, there were swatches of dirt, loose stones, pebbles. It was art, if one could find it.

The screech of the knives through the air and the thump as they all hit the tree still echoed in his mind as he looked down, concentrating on counting how many pebbles lay within his vision, what colors they were, the texture of the stone--

A pause. Anxious, Kenneth almost thought she had gone. Silent footsteps in a silent forest, and all would be-- All would be what? Then she spoke. "Are you scared of me?" Kenneth looked up to find her standing, facing him for the first time. His gaze was guarded, and he found he couldn't hold hers long, and looked to the side.

"Not fear of that sort," he finally said, almost as if the words were weights that took much effort to speak. "But rather the first kind I spoke of. The nobler kind. The fear mixed with awe." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the metallic glint of the blade in her hand, and knew that the sun would be rising soon. The light was filtering through the trees.

...In deep agony."


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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Jan 31 2012, 10:35 PM
[QUOTE]
323 posts

28 years x Female

5'3" x 113 lbs

82nd Games
District Eight
Rachel

Moneys: 20
Member No.: 458
Join Date: 14-November 11



user posted image
you just walked through it.


He looked up, their eyes meeting for the first time, really. His eyes were walled in, curtains drawn across them in the way that Thorne imagined she looked, when she chose to lock that away. Eyes were the windows to the soul, wasn't that what people said? She wasn't sure how much truth could possibly be in a strange metaphorical statement like that -- but just in case, she almost always drew curtains across her own eyes, as well.

He held her gaze for a long moment before his resolve seemed to waver, then break cleanly in two, and he looked away quickly. "Not fear of that sort," he said finally. The words came out slowly, carefully. Heavy.

Damn it. She shouldn't have asked. She should have walked away, leaving her suspicions that the rest of Panem no longer feared her as just that: suspicions. The thought that she'd been right stabbed at her insides in a place that felt uncomfortably close to the place where Peronelle Howard's arrow had brushed against Thorne's heart --

"But, rather, the first kind I spoke of," he continued, still looking away, off to the side, his left, her right. "The nobler kind; the fear mixed with awe."

A skeptical frown found its way into her expression, pulling the corners of her mouth down a little and tugging the curtains back from the eye-windows to her soul, just enough to allow a glimpse of anger mixed with disbelief and an undertone of confusion. "So you're... interested?" Adjusting her hold on the knife in her right hand, she added coolly, "Is that why you were watching from a tree?"

OUTFIT.




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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Feb 1 2012, 11:18 AM
[QUOTE]
66 posts

30 years x Male

6'0" x 149 lbs

Factory Worker
District Eight
Fading

Moneys: 330
Member No.: 540
Join Date: 25-December 11

"Walking east
Drawn to that place...


Her eyes were shut tight, like a stone rolled over the doors of the heart and mind, locked safe and sound from any outward touch. Kenneth wondered how someone could look so cold; he supposed it was the killing. Like lightning, striking without emotion, without the rage and ebb of a fire.

Kenneth's own gaze had been guarded, but what was below was not cold. It was... a spring rain, a morning mist lighted with the yellows and golds of the rising sun. Something inside him made him feel refreshed, come alive, like a flower soaking in both the light and the water.

"So you're interested? Is that why you were watching from a tree?" Kenneth stood straight up, no longer leaning against the tree as she spoke. He glanced at her, then at the knife she twirled in her hand, then back at her. In her eyes now, there was something like fury, yet disorder. Then the doors were locked shut again, but the frown still lingered on her lips.

Kenneth wanted to smile, but he thought this might anger her more, so he didn't. He still wore the same guarded expression as he answered, "I wasn't in the tree to watch you." He fingered the strap of his backpack, continuing quickly (since his last statement sounded dismissing), "I was waiting for..." He paused, then walked towards her. "Do you want me to show you?" He stopped about five feet away, and found himself hoping she'd say yes.

...The sun rises."


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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Feb 1 2012, 05:32 PM
[QUOTE]
323 posts

28 years x Female

5'3" x 113 lbs

82nd Games
District Eight
Rachel

Moneys: 20
Member No.: 458
Join Date: 14-November 11



user posted image
you just walked through it.


Drawing himself up to his full height, his gaze flickered from hers to the mirror-like silver blade in her fingers and back again.

"I wasn't in the tree to watch you." He reached up and she tensed minutely for a moment before realizing that he was only reaching for the strap of the backpack. "I was waiting for..." He trailed off, and she waited silently, staring at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

He took a step, then another, and another. Thorne froze, grip tightening around the handle of her knife in what she hoped was an unnoticeable manner. What was she doing? She shouldn't be scared, not now. Her gaze swept over him in search of a hiding place for some kind of weapon, but she couldn't find anything. It didn't look as though he were about to attack -- but some people, she supposed, were good at pretending. She was one of them, wasn't she?

She hadn't been like this before. Perhaps this uncomfortable heaviness settling on her shoulders came with the dark experience of an artificial death.

He stopped five feet away from her; she didn't relax. God, she hoped that he hadn't picked up on the frozen tension spreading down to the very tips of her toes. "Do you want me to show you?" he asked after a moment.

Thorne simply stood in front of him, an ice statue -- she'd heard people referring to her as that, hadn't she? Years ago, closer to her first Games than the second ones, back when the rest of Eight still feared her the way she wanted them to. "Whatever," she said finally, then wished she hadn't and added, "Sure."

OUTFIT.




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Kenneth Speare
 Posted: Feb 4 2012, 01:38 PM
[QUOTE]
66 posts

30 years x Male

6'0" x 149 lbs

Factory Worker
District Eight
Fading

Moneys: 330
Member No.: 540
Join Date: 25-December 11

"Rippling grass
Wind moves up the hill...


Kenneth sensed she was tense; that was part of why he had stopped. Her countenance was like a looming, ominous thunder cloud. He didn't know whether she'd lash out at him in an instant, and that alone made his palms sweat. His hands were wrapped tightly around his backpack straps just like her hand was wrapped tightly around the knife.

He wondered how someone so powerful could be so... scared. It didn't make sense. He had thought it was anger lurking under the surface of those eyes, and maybe it was, but he could feel the fear. What did she have to be afraid of?

If she was truly fearful, that also made her dangerous. Likely to lash out. He lingered back, wondering whether she’d say yes. He assumed she wouldn’t, but he felt compelled to offer anyway. It had been a long time since he’d shared this with someone else and…

”Whatever. Sure.” A soft smile warmed his face and he nodded. He looked up at the sky, which was still dark, but lightening. ”We don’t have much time.” He glanced back at the tree, then at the knife in her hand. ”Do you need to take those with you?”

...Light waves."


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Thorne Lohrasbe-Tomsy
 Posted: Feb 6 2012, 05:19 PM
[QUOTE]
323 posts

28 years x Female

5'3" x 113 lbs

82nd Games
District Eight
Rachel

Moneys: 20
Member No.: 458
Join Date: 14-November 11



user posted image
you just walked through it.


Still, his eyes darted from the knife to her cool gaze and back again. Good. It felt sort of nice to have someone looking at her like that again, as much as something about him made her half-want to take it back.

He smiled, glanced up at the sky, growing lighter every moment. "We don't have much time," he announced, then looked to the cluster of silver knife-handles buried in the bark of the tree across the clearing. "Do you need to take those with you?"

Thorne narrowed her eyes. "Yes." What did he think she would do? Leave them there, digging into the tree's thick bark, for someone else to stumble across? What would the Capitol do if she asked for more knives again? No, they had to be retrieved. She stalked across to the second target tree, pulling each knife from it smoothly to drop into her backpack blade-first, clink, clink, clink.

Then that tree, too, stood with knife-driven scars in a thick clump, and Thorne pulled the bag's zipper to enclose her daggers in the cool darkness inside. Turning around, she lifted the backpack to hang from her shoulder by one strap and looked back at the man with her mouth set in a thin line. "Where are we going?"

OUTFIT.




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