Okay here's the updated version.

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

One of my earliest memories was a burning boat. Sometimes at night I remembered the orange flames on the surface of the dark water, getting smaller and smaller as the boat drifted away. It wasn't until much later that I put it together in my head. I'd known what was happening at the time, but it hadn't meant anything to my young mind. I grew up knowing my brother was dead, but I didn't realize until I was almost a teenager that the memory was his funeral pyre.

I smiled as I sat by the water, looking out at the spot from my memories. I felt guilty sometimes that when I saw Floki die again and realized what the boat was, I felt let down. It had been such a mysterious, exciting memory, and I was sad it turned out so morbid. This was the last night I was going to see it for a long time, because it was the night before I was started down his same path.

I always did leave everything to the last moment. So many people fussed over everything. I liked to play things by ear and enjoy the day. I kept thinking that I was just training because people expected me to, and that I'd never actually get picked. There were so many students clamoring for a chance at the Arena and training every minute to make their dreams come true. I never dreamed the mayor would interfere, and his reason was even more bizarre. It would have been laughable if it wasn't my future.

Four hasn't had a Victor in years. One and Two are pulling away from us. We were gaining a reputation as the second-rate Career District, a sort of hybrid between Career and non-Career. Instead of celebrating that people weren't throwing their lives away like my brother and embracing our unique culture, the mayor set out to duplicate their methods. He recognized that sponsors and Capitol approval are as important as skills, and he selected me for both of those. I was trained and knew how to fight, but the real reason I was chosen would have made the Vikings my parents always talked about blush with shame. The Victors from one are always striking, foxlike warriors. Like them, I was chosen because I was pretty. Wouldn't my ancestors be proud.

I didn't want to fight. I knew how- I was strong and tall, like my brother, and I learned all the same skills- but I didn't want to. I believed in the gods and all, but all the bloodshed and psychotic rage wasn't for me. When I thought about my future, I envisioned my family, a fishing boat, and a rosy-cheeked wife holding a squirming little boy. The mayor should have let one of the real warriors live out their dream. Then I could have lived mine.

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

"Baaaaaaby shark do do do doo doo do do…"

I was homeschooled all my life, and I still knew that kids' tune. It seemed like every kid heard it right around third grade, and it was a sacred kid duty to pass it along. It must have been ancient by now. And it always seemed hilariously appropriate when I was spearfishing for sharks.

Salt pricked at my eyes as I swam stomach-down on the surface of the water, submerging my face to look for prey. I pulled myself along sharp coral clumps to peer into the cracks and crevices, careful to avoid sea urchins or anemones. The skin on my back was warm and starting to feel dry from the baking salt, so I slid underneath the water and enjoyed the way it flowed smoothly over my limbs as I swam.

Some Academy students spent all their lives in the gym, fighting and training and learning how to kill. I preferred a more natural approach, balancing formal training with informal education. Hunting for sharks honed every skill a Career needed, even the ones we didn't want to admit. It was hard for a Career to accept that they weren't always the strongest or deadliest, and that sometimes it was better to walk away.

A two-foot lemon shark swam lazily in front of me, maybe ten feet down into the reef. It seemed not to think I was worth noticing, since it made no move to either attack or run away. I slowly swam closer, ready to react if it suddenly rushed me. It was nothing to be afraid of, but I knew from experience that an open wound in salt water was no joyride. The shark turned slowly and nosed at a crack in the coral, probably smelling at some little fish. I swam behind it, right over it so I could strike downward with more momentum. I made my move, bringing my trident down while the shark was still distracted with its potential lunch. My trident stuck deep into the shark, pinning it securely as I adjusted my grip to hold tight. Even a small shark was fearsomely strong, and my quarry was doing its best to wiggle off the hook or loosen my grasp.

I pushed off the coral, shooting upward and breaking the surface. I grabbed the shark behind the head, carefully sliding my hands down over its sharp scales. I bashed its head against the surface, stunning it. I took out the trident and stabbed it in the head so it wouldn't slowly drown while I swam back. Blood wafted out around me in abstract shapes, and headed back towards shore.

I looked over my shoulder, at the pretty trail I was leaving and the sun behind the coral. Then a familiar wedge-shaped fin, skinny and maybe a foot tall, broke the surface.

Crap mama shark!

I saw Siren's form said she sang sea songs and went there. Usually she sings prettier ones. It's sort of cool, since Careen also likes sea songs.

Siren: Typical Four look, six feet tall

Havelock: Taller and thinner than Floki, but still muscular. He's really, really beautiful. He's what Zoolander was talking about. He's the ideal Teutonic form, naturally, except his eyes are green and not blue. Based on the description, not gonna lie, he sounds like handsome Squidward if he had Squidward's flowing hair from that episode about the other fry cook.

Fun fact: It was a mako shark in the water with Siren. Long-finned mako sharks have... long fins, making them easy to recognize