Okay. I'm so sorry for the long wait, but I have justifiable reasons which I can't share because they're really personal. Sorry. Anyway, here's district four's reaping. It's not my best writing, and it's a tad rushed. Like always, feel free to give me tips.

District 4

Desirae Schoon can't keep her eyes off the screen when Thresh kills Clove. She's seen this part a thousand times, but every time she sees the brutal death she can't stand the blood, the mess that it caused. Gross. Not that she minds combat, but close combat isn't her style at all.

(-)(-)(-)

Instantly when Desirae steps into the Academy's training room, she sees Ammie, her younger sister, sweating profoundly, teeth clenching tightly as she goes up against Andra, Ammie's twin. "Andra stop! . . ." Ammie's hands are up blocking each punch thrown at her. "They're not going to let you say stop in the games." Carol, their mother, blares sitting at the edge of the mat with anger flooding into her eyes. Desarie pulls her brown hair into a bun, a common style for training, ready to intervene to save her artist sister who lacks a single violent bone in her body.

Desi runs full force at Andra knocking her from her sister while also knocking her sister's breath from her. She leans close allowing her breath to tickle Andra's neck while sending a chill down her spine.

"This is for yesterday." Desarie whispers. Her voice isn't a kind quiet, but a calculated, hostile whisper. Her sister glares into Desarie's almond shaped chocolate eyes. Their relationship, to put it lightly, is shaky. "You mean for proving your imperfection." Andra sneers picking at a sore point.

In a blink of an eye, Desarie grabs Andra's head slamming it to the hard mat leaving her not so delicate sister unconscious. A cruel smile twitches on her lips. "I'm so proud of you sweetheart," Carol's voice snaps Desi from her trance allowing her to look at her work sprawled on the mat. Guilt is void while looking at Ammie's small smile. It was worth it. Andra puts up a tough fight, sure, but Desarie is always the best. It's an automatic side effect of being a perfectionist.

Desi sizes up her next opponent, a stereotypical meat head. "Weapons or no?" she asks, her eyes lingering on the katana. "I've got all the weapons I need." The meat head ogles his muscles. Desi rolls her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips. She pulls her training shirt down allowing more cleavage. Some would say its wrong using her beautiful, extraordinary figure to her advantage, but screw them. Every advantage she can possibly use can save her life. Automatically the male's eyes drift down towards her breast. Like she thought, stereotypical meat head. 'May the odds be ever in my favor.' She thinks, laughing at herself, internally of course. The bell rings, and the battle begins, a seductive smirk on her lips.

Relaxation. That's all Argo Nautis craves from standing in the water while fishing. His father, on the other hand, does not want him to feel that serenity. "Are you ready to volunteer today?" he asks. Argo's just glad he's not pushing training today. "Of course." He mutters. Ursula, Argo's girlfriend and love of his life, insists he doesn't volunteer probably because her brother died in the games. If he could get away with not volunteering, he would. If he wins, there's no doubt that he'll marry her, live in Victor's Village together. "I'm going to go see Ursula." Argo says, ready to move away from arena conversation. "You should go train with Reed," Kemper, Argo's dad, says. "Maybe I can do both." Argo chuckles, a habit he has when trying to break tension, even when it's nonexistent.

(-)(-)(-)

Argo left the sea quickly after the awkward conversation with his father, or at least he thought it was awkward. He's at Ursula's door, the wedding ring in his pocket heavy. It's a pearl that he found himself. It's nothing special, but it's something they share together, their love of the ocean. Ursula opens the door, a worn book by her side, her brown hair in a messy ponytail excluding a couple loose hairs framing her face. Her grey eyes instantly light up seeing Argo, his green eyes filled with sorrow. He had two options.

1) Tell Ursula he wants to marry her and don't volunteer or 2) Break her heart. "I'm thinking I'm going to volunteer." The words slip from his mouth, word vomit. An awkward laugh follows. "What?" she asks. "I'm going to go into the games and survive," he says. He runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair and takes a breath, trying to think before speaking this time. "Why do you think you're going to win? There are 23 other people in there, Argo. Mason thought the same thing." At this point tears are slipping down her face. "I'm going to win because I have this to come back to." He quickly kneels on a knee, holding the ring to her.

"Ursula, will you marry me?" He asks. 'So much for being romantic.' He thinks, his heart racing, no, pounding against his chest. "Don't volunteer." Her voice is a frail whisper, and she looks like she could break any second. "I have to," he says. Regret lashes at him. "Please. We'll get married Argo," She pleads.

"Ursula, you have to let him volunteer!" Pod, Argo's shadow little brother runs towards Ursula. He followed Argo from fishing to make sure he went to train. "He's been training his whole life for this!" Ursula tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Pod, go home." Argo's voice is unusually hostile. "But… you can't give up all your training Argo!" Ursula sighs while leaning against the wall for support.

"We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided," Ursula whispers. "What?" Argo asks. "It's from one of the books from the old world. Harry Potter…" Her voice trails off. She has a tendency to go in search of the old books pre Panem, a difficult quest. "If you go into the games you have to promise me you'll win, Argo," she says. Argo embraces her, trying his hardest to ignore Pod. "I promise."

(-)(-)(-)

The reaping begins. Courage and Pride are supposed to be dominant in the air, but twinges of anxiousness linger. It's time to find out what the catch is for the quarter quill, and everyone is on edge.

"For the 75th annual Hunger Games and our 3rd quarter quill …" President East stops and reaches her hand in the bowl for formalities, really because they all say the same thing. "…the tribute's lives will be connected with each other. If your district partner dies, so do you." Silence looms in the air and aggravation seeps in Desi. How's she supposed to manage to keep her district partner alive and herself? At least that means one kill equals two.

Fir Wellwood, the district four escort, moves to the female tributes. "Charm Perthshire." The girl, Charm, barely registers her name being called because Desirae is already volunteering. She gives a vibrant smile and adds a sway to her hips as she walks to the stage. She knows this will attract some sponsors. "What's your name?" Fir asks. "I'm Desirae Schoon." She adds a sly smirk while her name rings in the air. Confidence oozes from her.

Fir moves towards the male tributes, quickly picking a name. "Cordo Selkirk." This time there's more hesitation in the volunteering process. With a quick glance towards Ursula, Argo moves forward. "I volunteer as tribute." His usual shy demeanor disappears as he attempts walking to the stage with as much confidence as Desi pulled off. Argo remembers her. She had attempted to flirt with him endlessly when he was 16, but, of course, he was dating Ursula. He doubted Desirae remembered him because she flirted with everyone. However, she did. His name was on the tip of her tongue, Amos maybe. He stood out because he, unlike many, was able to stay focused on the battle during their fights, not her bosom. The same common question gets asked of Argo, his name. "Argo Nautis."

Desi smiles, quickly analyzing him. Maybe he could actually hold his own and she wouldn't have to purely babysit him. Just maybe she could win with her life be connected to this guy. Just maybe.