Skylar "Sky" Levaria, 18, District Four Female
June 21st, 19 ADD, 8:04pm - Just under two weeks until Reaping Day
Another day, another addition to the paycheck, she thought to herself as she clocked out for the day. Judging by the sun's rays just beginning to intermingle with the sea, it'd been a full day - roughly ten hours worth of work, not counting lunch and bathroom breaks. Not bad for the first day of summer.
That very mantra had gotten Skylar Laveria, known to most as simply Sky, through those first rough months, back when her attempts at spearfishing had been just that - measly attempts, hitting water and rock nearly ten times as much as she hit something of worth. It was her father that reassured her back then, calm and supportive, because in his words, nobody becomes a master at anything overnight, and you'll have time to adapt.
Her mother, of course, had told him off after that, berating him for such a lax mindset. The girl needs to take this seriously, she'd be reprimanded, else she'll become complacent and settle for mediocrity, and where would she be then?
Day in, day out, that's what she'd hear. One parent on one end of the spectrum, wanting for nothing but for his daughter to enjoy life and simply be herself with no strings attached. The other parent opting to take residence in the other extreme, allowing no room for failure or loose ends, lest she find herself screwed over by the inevitable passing of fate much like she had. Two opposites, both in possession of the same overarching goal yet with incompatible paths to get there. Black and white personified as her parents, both eager to build the foundations for a palette yet utterly incapable of meeting in the middle to make gray.
(She'd tried, of course. Surely there was merit to what both her father and her mother said, right? She could take things easy, do whatever she wanted with life, and would be fine, while also being a hard worker and setting herself up to stand on her own two feet later on in life. One foot in each of her worlds, a balancing act that'd result in an ideal world that'd make her parents - both of them - happy.
How naive she'd been, to believe that compromise existed anywhere in the Levaria family's vocabulary.)
All too soon, the family's modest abode was in front of her, the weather-worn door mere feet from her face. Inwardly, she tensed; outwardly, she exhaled.
Behind that door lay two possibilities. Either her father would see her first, already hours home from working at the docks, ask about her day, praise her for her hardworking spirit while reminiscing of solstices past, each and every one filled with less arduous pursuits. Or her mother would be in the kitchen, cleaning up after the family dinner, four sets of plates in the sink while the fifth portion sat wrapped up on the counter, ready to praise her for how diligent she was with a pursuit that was finally worthwhile, with one offhand comment about how, by this time next year, she could build herself up to twelve hours if she put in the work. If she was lucky, each encounter would end there - she'd eat whatever meal was on the menu today, end things on a decent note, and retreat to her room to quietly spend the rest of her evening.
Sky knew better, though. When it came to family, luck was a fleeting thing, dipping and weaving through the air like a dolphin breaching for an enraptured audience - quick, fast, and altogether far too rare to be anything more than a novelty.
So she stands there a moment longer, allowing the dying sun's rays to warm up her back just a little longer, before, fuck it, no need to let the indecision fester any longer.
What greets her on the other side of the door is a surprise, for the first person she sees isn't parent one or parent too, but the cover of an opened book. Or, to be more precise, two hands wrapped around a book at the dining table of all places, a half eaten plate of shrimp scampi forgotten to the side, and for the first time all day, Sky allows herself to relax.
Because while her parents, for all of their well-meaning ways, present the same guilt trip in two different flavors, the twins are a different story entirely. Freshly fifteen and beset with all of the usual teenager-isms, there's nevertheless no escaping the fact that even today, Sky has a refuge with brother and sister alike that she'd long since lost with her father and had never quite ever found with her mother. Dallen and Rhea don't judge her for not working hard enough. Dallen and Rhea don't ask about trivial pursuits and long-forgotten friends from a more carefree, misspent youth.
So when Dallen looks over his book and gives her a small smile and a "Hey" as a greeting, the smile that Sky gives in return is genuine, warm, loving.
"Hey yourself, nerd," she says affectionately, and it's with an uncharacteristic haste that she drops her work bags in their usual place before walking over to stand behind him. "New book?"
"Yeah." Already, Dallen's attention is returning to its pre-Sky-coming-home state, and her grin tentatively grows. Dallen out in a communal area, clearly relaxed enough to only be momentarily disrupted by Sky herself - maybe, for once, it was a peaceful day in the Levaria estate?
"Nice." She ruffles Dallen's hair, eliciting an exasperated groan from him, before deciding to show mercy and mosey towards the kitchen herself. "Is it good so far?"
"So far." Truthfully, Sky hadn't recognized the book itself - something scrawled in cursive with an old-fashioned sailboat on the front - but that itself was not surprising; Dallen had already read more books than she ever would in her life, and his tastes were as varied as the creatures that lived in the sea. And he never, ever, read something that wasn't good, or so he claimed.
"Glad to hear it." True to form, there's exactly one plate of scampi left on the counter, with three sets of plates sitting clean in the sink. Dinner must have been an hour or so ago - maybe she could get away with this yet.
And somehow, she did - sitting across from her brother in comfortable silence, Sky made it through her entire plate and a couple of extra bites from his uninterrupted. So too did she make it to the sink and back to the dining room (Dallen's hair always needed to be playfully ruffled, okay?) without any complications.
It wasn't until she'd made it up the stairs and most of the way to the room she shared with Rhea that she understood why; no sooner had she passed by her parents' room did she hear their voices. And whenever her parents were talking at a volume loud enough to hear from the hallway, it was almost never for something good.
Were she younger, Sky would have almost certainly placed her ear against the wood, eavesdropping to hear as much of the forbidden gossip as she could. Age and experience had taught her that these days, that'd be an act of self-sabotage - and if the only word she could get from the mostly gibberish noise was her own name, well, that was a sign enough to let things be.
She'd had a surprisingly good night after work tonight, and she'd be damned if anything was allowed to ruin it.
So she moved on, making sure to avoid the squeaky floorboard that would no doubt alert her parents to her presence, to her room. Three quick raps - the same way she always knocked to alert her siblings that it was her - and a muffled "Sky!" later, and her parents' argument was all but forgotten.
They could have tomorrow, the same way they'd had most of the rest of her life to jostle over their respective ideas for her future. No doubt her father would lament not seeing her when they inevitably crossed paths in the morning, nor would her mother mix her praise at her diligence with another thinly-veiled inference to work harder after not getting the chance to do so.
But right now, with Rhea's joyous arms wrapped around her, she decided that, just this once, she would take this day for herself.
Asher Rivera, 18, District Four Male
June 21st, 19 ADD, 7:13pm - Just under two weeks until Reaping Day
"Picture this: a moderately sized house located on the edges of the market district, indistinguishable from many others from the outside except for the custom-crafted sign spelling RIVERA hanging right above the door. It's the beginning of sunset on the longest day of the year, the sun slowly undergoing its daily transformation from bright yellow to soothing orange as it dips into the sea, cooling off and making way for the moon to take its place in the sky. The air is hot, the breeze is salty, the seagulls are-"
"Okay, we get it, get to the point already Asher, jeez!"
(He chuckled, for that reaction was exactly the point. But Asher Rivera is never one to torment anyone for too long, even as a mere joke, so heed the request he does.)
"As I was getting to, ladies," he says in a near-perfect imitation of the plum-skinned Capitolite who reports on the weather every Sunday, "Dinner is, officially, served."
Twin cheers erupt from the dining table, and Asher cannot help but grin in response. Another day, another successful evening.
It might be the middle of the week, with his parents no doubt making use of every last second of sunshine that they can - Father had told them at the beginning of the week that he was close to finalizing a new deal with the third biggest restaurant chain in all of Four and that both him and Mother would be working late to ensure that it went off without a hitch - yet for Asher and his sisters alike, it was that sweet spot after school had let out for the summer but before the Reapings would come and go and he'd be expected to pitch in as well. Sure, that meant that he'd have to come up with dinner every day this week, but that was a small price to pay for spending his days on the beach and his nights with his sisters as just a trio.
And from the sound of the scraping chairs and the impressive oohs and ahhs that Maria gave the food - today's treat was freshly cooked salmon seasoned with a pesto sauce - even the one bit of the day that would otherwise feel like a chore had ended in success as well.
Within minutes, the three children of the Rivera clan were all seated at the table, the sharpest edges of their hunger sated in comfortable silence. Only when he'd neared the end of his first helping did Asher speak - a truly impressive feat, knowing him and his curiosity.
"So, what'd you guys get up to today?" The trio, like the previous two days, had spent their afternoon at the beachfront, but unlike the previous two days had largely split up and done their own thing - something only acceptable in the last year ever since the girls had become Reaping eligible.
As one, the girls giggled. "Weren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on us, though?" Maria, fourteen years old and developing a playful snarky streak, teased.
"Well, yeah," he acquiesced, even though all three of them were more than aware that his definition of 'keeping an eye' on his sisters was somewhat more relaxed than what his parents had envisioned when they'd set him to the task. "But you guys don't need me hovering over you all the time, right?"
"Well, there's an entire spectrum between not hovering over us and then spending so much of the day sitting on your towel while listening to Lucian talk about this and that it's a relief to all of us when Daisy shows up and pulls the two of you apart, you know." Valorie, Val for short, fifteen, equally snarky and arguably smarter than Asher himself (in his opinion, anyway) chimed in.
And Asher couldn't help but chuckle, because, well, that's almost exactly what happened. So what if Lucian had a tendency to ramble on? He was Asher's friend, and Asher enjoyed listening to those rambles, even if they were somewhat repetitive. "So what I'm hearing is that your days were so boring that you two had nothing better to do than just watch me and my friends the entire time?" he teased back, barely refraining from adding an exaggerated wink.
"Nah, we also watched you long enough to see Daisy pull you away from over-schmoozing with that couple and their dog because you had to know its entire life story, probably."
"Wait, there was a dog?" Maria piped up. "Where?"
"Did you not see it? It was white and tiny and so annoying that I understand now why only rich people own them…"
Asher took that moment to finish off his salmon, trying and mostly failing to stifle a grin. As much as he loved his parents, there was something refreshing about it just being him and his sisters outside of a school environment, listening to them bicker and tease and occasionally join in himself. Hell, that's why he'd pretty much told them to have fun on their own today - more individual freedom in a safe environment meant that these moments together would be all the more meaningful - and if he got to catch up with his two closest friends in the meantime too, then that was just an added bonus.
(And yeah, sure, Daisy did have to pull him away a couple of times, but that was natural too. Even if he genuinely enjoyed listening to Lucian or chatting up random strangers because they had a cute dog, Daisy had always watchful over him, keeping him out of trouble with overstaying an unexpected welcome with a stranger and helping him assert himself when Lucian's rambles turned towards politics for the third time in ten minutes.)
"And, to answer your question," Val continued, pivoting effortlessly from educating Maria on the dog to turning her focus back to Asher, "my day was not boring, thank you very much."
"You're welcome," Asher grinned, because as loving as he was to his sisters, he was still an older brother who enjoyed messing with them when he could.
(And yeah, Val's exaggerated eye roll didn't hurt, either.)
"Yes, thank you, oh gracious brother of mine, for willingly releasing my chains out of the goodness of his heart and not because he was so preoccupied talking to his friends that he simply forgot to watch me." she replied, sarcasm dripping like honey off of her words but failing to hide the poorly concealed smile on her face. "I shall never forget the favor you have granted me with your generosity today."
"She's only saying that because she and Ayanna managed to have a proper conversation with Derek for the first time since school got out today," Maria interjected in a stage whisper.
"Hey!" Val's indignation was half-faked even as she playfully smacked Maria's arm, even as Asher noted with great amusement how her ears immediately pinkened upon the mention of her longtime crush. "I was getting to that!"
"You were taking too long," Maria shrugged matter-of-factly. "Besides, I saw something cool today and I want to share it before the sun goes down."
"We'll get there, don't worry," Asher reassured, even if he was still grinning. What could he say? He loved moments like these. "So, Derek, huh?"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, yes he's still cute." Val shook her head in mock defeat. "Yeah, that's pretty much it, really. Me and Ayanna hung out. We walked on the beach, watched some of the spearfishers, talked to Derek-"
"Tried to, anyway." Maria interjected again, eyes glittering with mischief. "He had his shirt off, you see, so I don't think Val got-"
A second smack cut her off, but both Maria and Asher were laughing now, and after a moment Val joined in, the pink now having fully spread across her face. "Yeah, well, wait till you get your first crush, Maria. I guarantee you won't be able to speak a full sentence while looking them in the eye, if they were shirtless, either."
"She's got a point," Asher adds, the action of switching from teasing one sibling to the other a long-practiced habit by now. "Shirtless guys are really distracting, I get it."
"True, I guess," Maria relents. "I guess I can't really talk, either, because the most interesting part about my day also involved a shirtless guy."
"Oh?" Asher asked, not altogether unsurprised. (Like, really, who wore shirts on the beach at the height of summer? Certainly not him, that's for sure.)
"Hah, told you so," Val chimed in, victory written on her face.
"Nah, this wasn't a crush," Maria shrugged. "But it was one of the victors."
That caught Asher's attention - and Val's too, from the looks of it. "Victors?" she asked.
"Yeah, the newer one - Triton?"
"Yeah, Triton, that's it."
"On our beach?" Asher asks. When Maria nods her affirmation, he can't help but laugh out loud. "Man, Lucian's gonna flip when he hears that his favorite victor was so close to him and he didn't even realize it. Triton Yang, what a concept."
"When was this?" Val asks, eyes narrowed, more interested in the actual details - and, okay, fair, it wasn't every day that someone, Rivera or not, claimed to see a victor out in public before the Reapings or after the Games. "Also, where was this?"
"You remember that huge gathering off to the left side of the beach, right before we came home?" Maria asked, to which both Asher and Val nodded. "Yeah, that was him. I only saw the last part of it but he had his spear and was doing some sort of acrobatics or something like that with it, and the crowd loved it. I think they liked his abs more, though - there were a lot of boos when he put his shirt back on."
"Understandable," Val sighed dreamily, head in her hands. "I would have done the same."
"What about Derek?" Asher asked.
"Who's Derek?"
All three of them laughed at that, and even as the conversation gradually petered off and the girls gathered the dishes to wash, the feeling of contentment that'd stuck with him all day remained.
Days like these are my favorites, he thought, watching as the sun gradually disappeared into the sea. Mornings eating delicious food with my parents, afternoons soaking up the sun with my friends, evenings making memories with my sisters.
He knew that this day, much like the others that had preceded it, would be one that he would treasure forever, no matter what.
Cove Lagunov, Victor of the Third Annual Hunger Games
July 4th, 19 ADD, 9:49am - Eleven minutes before Reaping Day
"I know you're up to something."
It was a statement and not a question for two reasons - one, a question gave room for denial or deflection, neither of which she was particularly interest in indulging in at the moment, and two, if there was one thing Cove Lagunov had learned to trust in the many, many years since her Games, it was that when her instincts told her something, she had better listen. And right now, sitting next to him mere moments before the Reaping was to begin, there were few things that she was more sure of than the fact that her co-victor had something brewing up his sleeve.
Said co-victor in question, to the outside world, seemed unaffected by her words, the easygoing smile on his face never wavering. Yet Cove had seen Triton at his best and his worst, inside the arena and out alike, and she knew his tells when cornered. Such as the involuntary straightening of his back, or the nervous fiddling of his right shorts leg.
Or the fact that, left with no other way to deflect, he opts for silence. Yeah, no, not today of all days, Yang.
"What I don't get," she said, lowering her voice just enough so that no one outside of their bubble on the stage would think anything was amiss, "is why you haven't told me about it. We're supposed to be a team, Triton. You know that."
It hurt her to bring the guilt trip out, but there were precious few minutes left before they'd be on a train filled with cameras and moles and who knows what keeping track of their every move, and every other time she'd brought it up before now had been met with deflection or vague assurances. "I know what I'm doing, Cove, don't worry," he'd all but grinned, mere hours after his beach stunt on the solstice had made Capitol papers.
And yet, as much as she wanted to believe him, every gut feeling she had on the topic was screaming Danger! Danger! in a way she'd only felt a handful of times before.
Like when the boy from Ten had tried to get the drop on her in the Games, right when she was busy coming to terms with her first kill.
Like when, asked what she thought about Jaeyoon's victory in the aftermath of the Fifth, she'd simply shrugged and said "It was a good idea. Wish I'd thought of it myself."
The first time, she'd been lucky, and her opponent had found the business end of her spear stuck in his throat. The second, not so much - and to this day, she didn't think she'd ever stop feeling guilty whenever she saw one of Jason's parents in the market.
She'd been young and hubristic then too, adapting to her post-Games life too quickly, too recklessly. There was a catch that came with finding victory as a child warrior - once you've survived the ultimate test life can throw at you, you're given the illusion of invincibility. She'd said as much to Triton the year after he'd won, reminded him to stay humble and grounded and not let his newfound freedom go to his head, and it seemed like he'd listened wholeheartedly. From his first mentoring failure all the way to last year, when his girl had fallen just shy of the fateful finale between One and Two, he'd kept himself out of trouble. There was, logically speaking, no reason to suspect otherwise now.
Only that starting a couple of months ago, he'd started acting, well, out of character. Like inviting a Capitolite documentarian to the modest restaurant his family owned right smack dab in the middle of Four. Or gathering a crowd on a hot summer day wearing nothing but his swimsuit and his spear and acting the role of what was essentially an entertainer. Or even the other day, when Cove, on a hunch, had stopped by his house after nearly two days of no contact and had been all but refused inside.
(Not that she'd been rejected outright - Triton wasn't that out of sorts, and it had been an admittedly refreshing walk to the market and back, but still. Something was fishy, and it wasn't the smell of the sea breeze).
So yeah, it hurt when Triton noticeably winced at Cove's low blow. That wasn't something she did unless she was truly worried, and they both knew it - and every other time had been when the Games were already in full swing and she needed to help him out of his head before a public appearance.
"I'm…" Triton said after what felt like the heaviest moment of silence ever. "Planning something, Cove."
Cove snorted in response. "Yeah, I could have told you that. Oh wait - I just did."
Triton smiled wanly. "You did. I have been obvious about it, and I do apologize. It hasn't exactly been easy to figure out, and…it's Games related stuff."
Cove raised an eyebrow. "You do realize who you're talking to, right?"
"Sponsorship stuff," Triton clarified. "Like, this is something I can only really do when I'm in the Capitol proper, and I'll probably have one shot at it so I know I need to get it right - build up the pieces, move them into position, stuff like that."
Something in Cove's chest dropped into her stomach. "Triton," she all but hissed, leaning in until her mouth was practically at his ear. "Are you planning something treasonous?"
Triton laughed - and right, the Reaping was literally moments away from starting, it had to look like a joke - and she smiled along with him. Thank fuck I'm a better actor than I used to be.
"No," he murmured after a moment. "Quite the opposite, in fact. It's a gamble, but I know if I can pull it off, it'll pay out splendidly."
"If?" Even if she tried, there was no hiding the incredulousness in her voice, and truthfully, she wasn't particularly trying.
"It's been done before, that I can say for certain," he reassured her - or attempted to, at least, since Cove still wasn't very reassured. "So at least I know it's possible."
"And…I still can't see why I need to be left out of the loop?"
"Because, Cove." And finally, he turned to face her fully. "If this blows up in my face, which there's a real chance it might, I'll be fine. I'm the fucking Golden Warrior, remember? Everybody loves me."
"And I'm most likely still on thin ice with our dear president after all this time is what you're saying." That, at least, made some sense - and it fit, too, why she wasn't informed. Damn Triton and his noble, self-sacrificing nature. "Okay. I get it. Just…promise me one thing, okay?"
"No promises," Triton chuckled, more out of nerves than mirth.
"I'm serious." She reached out and grabbed his hand, looked fully into his eyes until she was certain he was looking back. "If - and I do say if, because I know you, and whatever this is you'll probably make it work somehow - this blows up and you need help, call me. I don't care when, I don't care where, let me know, and I'll get you."
"What if one of our tributes is-"
"No what ifs," she cut him off. "Anytime, anywhere. I'll get Ambrosia or Jaeyoon or Elliot or even fucking Wyatt to keep an eye on our kids if I need to, okay?"
"Not Wyatt," Triton exhaled, half a laugh and half something else. "Not if we'd like them to live, anyway."
"Not Wyatt," she agreed. "And Tri- just be careful. Take it from someone who's fucked with the Capitol more than once - that's not a fight you can win. Ever."
"Okay, Mom, jeez," Triton groaned, but it was a teasing gesture if anything. He knew, and he understood.
At least, she fucking hoped he did.
There was more she wanted to say, but out of the corner of her eye she saw the mayor step down from her position at the podium and the escort, Venus, ascended to take her place in a wave of shimmering green silks.
Fuck. Go time.
Venus's speech passes in a blur, and all too soon, a slip of paper is plucked from the bowl, caught in long green nails, and "Skylar Levaria!" is broadcast to the square in a booming voice.
The girl in question comes to the stage relatively quickly dressed in a simple but practical blue shirt and skirt, and oh, she's Pissed with a capital P. Good, in some respects - anger being the first reaction to being selected to kill or die shows a strong fighting spirit - and bad in others - some tributes had, after all, lost the Games before they'd ever begun because of one wrong move on the Reaping Stage.
But Skylar - or Sky, as she tersely utters into the microphone - keeps her wits about her and her anger in check, and inwardly Cove breathes a momentary sigh of relief. It's all for naught, of course, as she tenses right back up as Venus's nail extensions dip into the other bowl (and fuck, this is one thing that's never gotten easier), to pull out"Asher Rivera!"
The boy, adorned in an equally simple floral buttoned shirt and sky-blue shorts, to his credit, seemed wholly unbothered by the turn of events, keeping his face calm and serene (and Cove had to give him credit, because she most certainly had not been able to smile at her own reaping). Only when he stepped onto the stage and Cove got a proper glance at his hand (curled to a fist, trembling ever so slightly) did she understand - Asher was every bit as terrified as Cove herself had been, yet so composed was he that she guaranteed that the majority of viewers watching in the Capitol would be fooled otherwise.
A girl with anger that could be molded, a boy with wits who could be guided - compared to some years where she and Triton alike knew their job was to ease the poor boy and girl into inevitable deaths, things looked far from hopeless.
"I'll take her," Triton murmured as Sky and Asher shook hands and were quickly scurried away for their last meetings. "She's too much like you, in a way - you'd tear out her throat before we got to the Capitol."
Back to normal already, are we? Cove thought wryly even as she snorted her agreement. Nice try, Yang, but I'll be keeping my eye on you regardless.
Because for all their differences and their bickering, Triton was the one person from home who truly understood what she had gone through. And that was a bond she'd treasure for the rest of her life, the boy's own ambition be damned.
And welcome back to An Illusion of Instability, dear readers! On the waning hours of America's Independence day, ironically the date of Reaping Day in my story here, I present to two tributes and two victors from District Four, who are currently lacking the Career capabilities of their canon counterparts and therefore must suffer the same fate as every other district not numbered One and Two. As always, many thanks to ShadowMoose for submitting Sky and to Son of Arryn for submitting Asher!
Here in District Four, we see quite a bit of overlap - both Sky and Asher, coincidentally enough, ended up being the eldest of three siblings with, for the most part, loving parents (even if one set is notably more difficult at expressing that than the other), and that very dynamic has, like with several pairs seen already, shown quite the dichotomy between the two - Sky, a hard worked even into the summertime, appears to be jaded and cynical, having fully bought into her mother's ideals for her own life, while happy-go-lucky Asher couldn't be more different with his carefree nature. On the Victors' side, Triton is up to something, and while Cove has her suspicions, this is one battle that, for now at least, appears to be at a stalemate. Will Sky and Asher find a bond over their love for their siblings, or will their differences prove to be too much to overcome? Will Cove's trust in Triton and Triton's own gamble pay off? Or will this thus far unknown plan of his blow up in his face in a way that no one could ever predict? Guess we'll all just have to wait and see!
For now, we'll next be heading over to District Five and reuniting with our quirky tabloid-journalist-turned-mentor from Prologue III, Daphne, and the pair of tributes who'll have to experience her rookie mentoring firsthand! See y'all soon, and thank you as always for the support 3.
