It took me another month to update, I'm pathetic I know

Tahoe Cuero, 18

District 4, one year before the Reapings

Tahoe Cuero never considered herself a "still waters" kind of girl. The doldrums were boring and had an eerie quiet and stagnation to them that just didn't jive. Water should be fluid, in motion, constantly changing, having the ability to decimate obstacles in an instant while having the calm silence underneath the water.

For her, it was important to keep the two separate. Turbulent surface, pristine depths. That's what she loved about the ocean. The propensity it had to be anything and be able to adapt to any situation. She admired it and yet, she feared it. She knew what it was capable of. She knew all too well.

Tahoe broke her gaze from the window of her home and turned back towards her family. The kitchen was fairly large with all the works surrounding a nice little island. To the of the right of the island was the kitchen table, a beautiful tannish wood color. She knew that she was extraordinarily lucky to live in such a house. It was a standard District 4 two-story with a steady electricity and ready access to Capitol TV. Her father was an event organizer for the celebrations in the District including local festivals, the Victory Tour, and visits from the Capitol.

Tahoe watched her father sit down at the table and saw his brow furrow. He was a fairly wide man but Tahoe knew that it was all muscle. He seemed intimidating but he had kind eyes. Tahoe understood the high pressure that his job put on him and felt sympathy. He changed over the past year though, and Tahoe had watched her father turn rigid and laser-focused on any task at hand. She worried about him sometimes.

Across from him sat Tahoe's little sister, Aleshanee. She had a book open at the table, of course, and she bore a striking resemblance to Tahoe, just younger and with longer hair. She couldn't have been more different from Tahoe. Aleshanee hated going outside, hated the sun, and didn't really care for swimming which was slightly problematic considering District 4's major exports.

As she flipped another page in the book, her mother appeared from the kitchen. "Tahoe why don't you come sit down, I made some crab cakes!"

Tahoe's mother had aged exceptionally well. Her beauty was still as radiant as ever. She moved with grace and was exceptionally poised. Tahoe knew of her mother's background as a talented dancer in the art of water ballet and it was apparent in her movement.

"Sorry Ma, I was just-"

"Staring out the window? Yeah." She smiled as she set down a plate. "The sea looks so beautiful this time of year, it's hard not to stare."

"But it's so sweltering out, I don't know how you stand it," Aleshanee whined with her head still buried in her book.

"No reading at the table please, this is family time!" Tahoe tried to stifle a sigh. Her mother's enthusiasm came off as trying too hard. She supposed that it was her way to cope with what happened, but it didn't make it any less annoying. Tahoe wanted to say something to her, but decided against it. There was a time and place for speaking her mind, and this certainly was not it.

Aleshanee snapped the book closed, revealing a look of annoyance on her face. Tahoe slid into her usual seat at the table, but felt a growing sense of emptiness. When the whole family was together like this, it was very clear that something was missing and she did not like that feeling one bit.

"That goes for pamphlets too," her mother said with a slightly pointed tone. She gestured with her eyes towards the pamphlet that her father was deeply engaged in. Some sort of a rich man from the Capitol was visiting soon and they needed updated info highlighting the best and most luxurious places in the District to go. Despite District 4 being rather wealthy, things were still not going so great in certain areas of the district. Tensions were getting high because of the fish shortage and the growing class divide between the fisherman and the higher-end jobs was only getting worse.

"Sorry, right." Her father placed the pamphlet down and turned his attention to the crab cakes. "Looks good."

"Well I hope so, even though I didn't have any help…" At this from her mother, Tahoe let out a dramatic eyeroll while her sister did the same.

"I was reading," her sister said pointedly.

"You heard her." Tahoe's father smiled. "Let's just try to enjoy the food."

Tahoe was hardly focused on the food. She found her attention suddenly fixed on an empty space at the dinner table, just big enough for a chair. Tahoe started to zone out a bit, her eyes losing focus on anything in particular.

"Tahoe…" her father said softly. She didn't reply. Instead she let her eyes come back into focus. She turned to look at her father, and his resulting expression meant she must have looked pretty upset. He let out a sigh. "I know we're still reeling from what happened, but we have to do our best to just move on." Her father's words stung like sea spray in her eyes. How could he talk like this when his son was dead?

Her father continued, "Ultimately, what Akule was doing was incredibly dangerous and we warned him against it, countless times…"

Tahoe felt her anger flare up, the sea churning inside her. The fragile stillness had been disturbed and there was no going back. She knew that she shouldn't say anything, but if her father continued-

"He brought this on himself. None of us are responsible and we just have to life with the fact that Akule died and-"

"THAT'S MY BROTHER YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT." Tahoe's anger broke through. No time for silence, no time to mince words.

"Tahoe, please just-" Her mother moved towards her. Tahoe stood up quickly, her momentum causing her chair to fall backwards onto the floor.

"No, you don't get to say that Dad. He loved what he did! He had passion and what's wrong with that," Tahoe spat out, her breath starting to come in huffs.

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"I know EXACTLY what you're saying, Dad." Tahoe stood up and flung the cab cake from her plate and out the open window behind her. She sped to the backdoor and threw herself outside. She knew exactly where she was going.

The sun was hot, sweltering even. Luckily her wetsuit was drying on a clothesline just outside the house so she snagged it and took off running. The sand was burning her feet, but she didn't care. Tahoe knew she was stubborn but she couldn't believe how they treated her brother's passing.

Akule spent a lot of his time free diving. He loved to dive in the depths and view all the ocean life he could find, and did so without any breathing equipment. It was an acquired skill, taking years of practice to condition your lungs to stay underwater for more than a minute. Not to mention it was incredibly dangerous. It was how he died after all.

Tahoe made it to one of the rockier beaches. It wasn't a great spot for surface swimming or fishing so people largely avoided it. But it was perfect for free diving.

When her brother was alive, Tahoe begged her brother to teach her. He had refused at first, but eventually gave in. Tahoe loved Akule so much. She looked up to him, wanted to be like him when she was younger. The time they spent under the water together, cheating death and discovering what lived under the surface of the sea was everything to her. And everything was worth much more than a little risk. It was worth more than dying.

The rocky shore had a number of underwater crevasses and depths just waiting to be explored. Without even catching her breath, she dove right into the water. After her brother passed, she had continued her training, continued to dive. Her father wouldn't approve, but she knew that her brother would want her to do it. Anything to keep him alive was worth it, especially when other people wanted to forget.

Tahoe opened her eyes into the blue depths, using her muscular arms and legs to propel herself deeper into a particular crevasse. She decided she didn't want to go too deep this time, she just wanted to see something specific.

Years of training had conditioned her eyes and her lungs. She couldn't see totally clearly, but the sun was strong, sending beams of light even to wear she was now. The water was a crystal blue, almost transparent.

Tahoe had worked her way up to spending a total of 8 minutes underwater. It had taken vigorous training, but it was worth it. Besides, her destination took some time to reach.

She turned her body horizontally to fit through a tight area and there it was. It was sort of an underwater clearing, surrounded by rocks except for the way she just entered through. Barnacles and seaweed covered the walls and ceiling of the little underwater cave, but it was the center she sought.

There, right at the bottom, was the most beautiful starfish she had ever seen. It was a fluorescent purple, showing up proudly against the dark rocks and the blue water.

Tahoe smiled. Her brother had shown it to her 2 years ago. And here it was. Same place. She wondered how long it had been here, but tried not to dwell on it. There was no way of knowing for certain.

The silence washed over Tahoe. She loved it. The gentle, silent calmness while the sea raged above. To find the still waters, you must swim to the deepest depths. Tahoe let her hair wave in the water as she soaked in the feeling. Rage and calm, calm and rage. It was a constant battle inside her, but she was happy to let the warring continue. Conflict made life a lot more interesting.

Makara Opras, 17

District 4, 1 day before the Reapings

Makara Opras was not one to cut corners. She didn't believe in shortcuts, much less people actually utilizing them to their advantage. She let a slight puff of air out of her nostrils as she pondered this. Duck and weave, duck and weave. Her opponent was one that tried to use shortcuts. The match had barely even begun and he was already trying to take her down. Makara appreciated the tenacity but was annoyed at the drama of it all. This was a sparring match, not a time to peacock.

Her opponent, Briner, was a particularly obnoxious 18-year-old who was desperate to get into the Games. He probably would have been chosen to volunteer, if it wasn't for the Quarter Quell twist. Makara knew he was bitter but there was no reason to be acting the way he was.

Briner preferred to use a sword and was trying to be all flashy with it. He was spinning all over the place and his wicked smile annoyed the hell out of Makara. However, there was no reason to get upset. He may have been stronger and trained longer and harder, but he had never had to face off against Makara Opras.

It was this thought that pushed her forward. She stayed on her toes, easily dodging all of Briner's sword strikes. When a parry was needed, she parried. It was standard combat procedure. No need for anything fancy.

Makara pranced to the side, easily avoiding Briner's overstepped forward thrust. He was getting frustrated. Being humiliated in front of a crowd of trained hopeful victors would do that to you. Makara stepped to circle behind him. Briner was ready for her. He quickly stepped backward, bringing his sword in a backward swinging motion from his left. He planned to catch her by surprise.

And that was just what she knew he would do. As the strike came, she used her twin deer horn blades to knock his hand upwards, moving the sword out of the way. She darted in, and in one quick motion, sliced Briner's foam arm guards right off with a few quick precision strikes.

Briner was lucky this was just training. Had this been in the Hunger Games, he would be dead. Makara had executed a self-invented technique that she called "de-fanging the snake." She would use her weapon to quickly sever the tendons in her opponent's arms and legs and render them helpless. Without the ability to hold a weapon or run away, they were as pathetic as a snake without its fangs. A worthless slithering mess suddenly unable to bring her any harm.

"And that's the match. Congratulations Makara," called a handsome man with a sharply groomed beard. Pike Allantois. The Victor of the 61st Hunger Games had personally come to watch the final day of training before the Reapings, as was tradition. However, this year, there would be no official confirmation of the chosen volunteer. This year, everything was up to the Matchmaker. Makara had scoffed at the Quell announcement. The thought of one of those dramatic fools pairing up tributes for romance might have been one of the funniest things she had heard all year. As if they knew anything about the Districts and the lives of the kids who lived in them.

Nevertheless, Pike was here. Makara almost pitied him. He won his Games pretty convincingly but he was quickly overshadowed by Finnick Odair just a few years later. He didn't get to spend much time in the spotlight before Finnick became the youngest person to ever win the Hunger Games. To add insult to injury, he became a Capitol favorite almost instantly due to his stunning looks and irresistible charm. Finnick pretty much never came to the Academy, but Pike did. She supposed that it was likely his way of compensating for being a fairly forgettable Victor.

Pike approached her and held out his hand. "Congratulations, you were up against a tough opponent. I was surprised a girl of your size was able to best such a strong male."

The words stung Makara. What a piece of shit. She could see the faces of the other people watching the match grimace. Makara was cool and collected, but her anger was legendary. Those who experienced one of the only times she ever let loose have since refused to talk about. Makara made sure of that. All it took was a look. Intimidation was sometimes more powerful than action.

She was a fairly small girl, but she used it to her advantage in combat. She didn't appreciate Pike's comment but she was going to stay quiet. No need to pick a fight with a Victor. So, she reached out and shook his hand. She made sure to clasp tightly when she took his hand. As she did so, she looked him dead in the eyes. She noted that his brown eyes were quite stunning as she looked into them. They had a sparkle to them, but she could tell there were filled with jealously and resentment. Pathetic.

"Thank you sir, it was a pleasure to showcase my skills in combat," she responded, almost robotically. Makara didn't really know how else to respond. Putting emotion into words was something that she didn't think was really necessary. She found it hard to connect with people, especially those she didn't really care to know. What was the point of being fake and friendly if it ultimately doesn't matter?

"It was a pleasure to witness it up close. If the Matchmaker chose you, I think you'll represent the District very well along with the man he chooses to be your soulmate."

Makara almost laughed out loud at Pike's comment. There was no way the Matchmaker would choose her. She wanted to be prepared for the Games just in case, but it was much more likely that she wouldn't be picked. She had just gotten out of a particularly nasty relationship with a girl named Brizo.

Brizo was rather a mess of a person. She cheated on Makara on 3 separate occasions and each time, Makara forgave her. She cursed herself for sticking by her so much. Makara valued loyalty and she was loyal to Brizo above all else. It didn't matter how Brizo hurt her, all that mattered was that Brizo wasn't hurt by someone else.

Makara came to realize the flaw in this logic. But the break up was rough. Brizo suffered from severe depression and had several major depressive episodes that Makara had helped her through. She didn't mind at the time. She loved Brizo. Or so she thought.

Their relationship ended when Brizo broke up with her after calling her a toxic waste of time. Now, Makara found this ironic considering that was exactly what Brizo was to her. Three years of her life wasted dating that dramatic bitch. She tried not to judge her so harshly, but it was hard to deal with someone who she was so loyal to treat her like garbage. Enough was enough. She wished their love could have been like Katniss and Peeta.

Makara had been a bit spellbound watching the 74th Games unfold. She had never seen so much passion between two people before. That had to be love. What else could be love? She thought the whole thing was rather romantic, but it didn't off that way to a lot of people.

District 4 was losing its edge. Tensions were exceptionally high. Every since the Victory Tour, there were no longer whispers of rebellion, there was an outcry. Makara wasn't sure about the whole concept of rebellion yet. All she knew was that things were heating up and in danger of burning the whole place to the ground. She tried not to focus on it. There were less complicated things to deal with.

Following the match with Briner, Makara decided to head for home. Fatigue was catching up with her after the adrenaline of the match wore off. She took some more congratulations from Pike and other trainers and headed for the lockers. She slipped out of her gear and basic workout outfit into something a little more her speed. A clean slim fitting t-shirt and leggings made for movability was all she really needed. She headed out with her bag and started the walk home.

Makara was the one in charge of managing the house and keeping everything in order. Her family was quite busy without her mother around. Five years prior, her mother died to a blood-born pathogen, leaving herself, her father, and 3 older brothers behind. Makara missed her mother, but there wasn't really time to mourn. They needed to move on and there was plenty of work to be done.

Her family managed a boat rental service, which kept her family in the upper-middle class of D4, but that didn't mean it came easy. After her brothers aged out of the Reaping, they turned their attention from training to helping with the family business. Makara hardly ever saw them anymore. Managing a flourishing business with only 4 people was not an easy task.

Thus, Makara was left with the responsibility of taking care of the house and the potential needs of the men in her family. It didn't leave much in the way of free time between her home responsibilities and training, but it wasn't so bad. She was just glad they were living comfortably. In the recent years, there was a huge class divide in District 4, one that was growing worse by the day. She figured that this was likely a contributing factor for the cries for rebellion.

It was quite the walk back home, but it was a nice summer day. July 3rd wasn't a bad day at all. She finally let herself smile with the taste of victory of her match against Briner. She was very satisfied with her performance and was confident in her skillset. Even so, there was no way Makara was going to be Reaped. With all the kids in D4 to choose from, why would the Matchmaker choose her?

Makara sighed as she watched her home come into view just in front of the setting sun. She looked forward to see whatever this strange Quell would bring and would watch from the comfort of her home. If she wanted to volunteer for the Games, there was always next year. This year, Makara Opras would try to take it easy.

Sorry for the long wait for this chapter! I actually had a lot of fun writing this one. It was a bit longer than what I was going for with the intros but I'm having a really rough week and this was kinda a way for me to unwind. Hope you enjoyed the longer chapter though!

I hope you guys had fun meeting Tahoe and Makara! There's still a lot left to unpack with them so stay tuned lol.

Btw, if anyone ever has any complaints with the way I portray their tribute, PLEASE let me know. I'd be happy to course correct their character. I promise I won't be offended and I won't kill off your character early to spite you. I have pretty much all the placements set already anyway.

I've started online college courses, but I dropped a class just to make room for getting back into writing this story so hopefully more frequent updates from now on! Thanks for reading and I'd love a review if you have a spare moment.

Are you #teamTAKARA?