Radical - Chapter One: Begin Game

Long time no see. This is a Challenge Fic. A friend of mine told me she thought that I was writing FanFiction about her and her totally-perfectly-matched-but-not-yet-official girlfriend. Because I like self-fulfilling prophecies, and because I wanted to write a Game of Thrones Fic, I wrote this. It will feature seven high school students (the above mentioned friends and then some) being thrown into Weseros. There, they play the Game of Thrones, which is essentially a more fatal version of high school. Cheating, backstabbing, lying, spreading rumors, incest and raising armies, with the occasional undead apocalypse. Just another boring day.

I've read the books, and have some issues with how the TV show played them out, specifically with regards to Loras and the Sand Snakes, but I can understand why the producers cut the not as necessary characters to make room for the main course. I will however, try to include as many of these cut characters as I can, although this Fic will only be in the POV of the students.

I did exaggerate some features of my friends, and tone down others, but I still think I got their characters/mindset right. I specifically exaggerated their fighting skills. I gave them all the basics, simply so that they don't die thirty seconds after awakening in Westeros. Only some of my friends watch GoT, so only some will have the knowledge of what happened.

Narration

"Dialogue"

Thoughts

POV - Which Character the Perspective is

Authors Note

POV - Lauren

You know what I really don't like? Surprises. They're never good, especially for a promising young world dictator such as myself. They're rude, inconvenient, and always manage to come at all the wrong times.

This was a nastier surprise than I'm used to, however.

Normally, I have a very strict morning routine that I do for good luck. Wake up, shower, do hair, makeup, get dressed, double check everything, go to school. This routine has kept me in the top percentile of my school for as long as I can remember.

It's rather hard to go through with this routine when you wake up in the middle of a chapel in your pajamas. Even more difficult when that chapel happens to have a corpse being mourned by seven freaky priests performing some sort of ritual.

Think Lauren! What was the last thing you remember? I took a deep breathe. Ok, so I'm in my PJs, so clearly I was in bed. Before that, I was at a party. What could have happened during the party to send me here? I didn't take any date-rape drugs, I definitely got home, and I avoid regular drugs like the plague anyway.

Realization dawned upon me. It was that idiot nerd! He made me do that stupid chant with a bunch of other people! He said that we would be sent to a better world, and that we only needed faith!

Clearly he had enough faith to go around, since I didn't believe that anymore than his boasts of evil. Why he thought that professing his undying love for evil will bring in the girls, I'll never know.

But there are bigger problems. If I'm here, is anyone else? Is he here? If so, would I be able to get away with murdering him?

No, wrong questions! Think about how to get back to the Land-of-the-Free. I really do need to make it the Land-of-the-Greatest-Dictator-Ever. Myself, of course.

Let's start with where I am.

This chapel seems familiar, but it's not one of the building I studied for AP Art History. Not in any of the styles, either.

The priests seem doubly familiar.

Wait, I know that corpse! I've seen this! This is Game of Thrones! That's the Hand, the one Robert Baratheon had, before Cersei had him poisoned! So this is the Red Keep, and I'm in Westeros.

'Better Land', my ass. He's gonna get it when I see him.

OK, let's see what I can do. If I remember the show correctly, which I most certainly do, the continent is in turmoil. Robert should be going to see Ned, so...

So what? Should I try to get back to my home, or stay here?

Another question, is anyone else in Westeros?

There were seven of us in the chant, the moron claiming that seven is the most magical number, so there should be six other of my friends here. Including Emma, and the idiot. That's good.

But Matt was also there... That's bad.

I groaned.

The priests noticed me then, and approached me. I received strange looks for my apparel, not that I could blame them, and before I knew it, I was surrounded.

"Hello there. My name is Lauren-" on second thought, maybe I shouldn't give away my real name to complete strangers, who are definitely working for people who would have me killed for the slightest gain. Well, I've already committed to Lauren. "-Depp. Lauren Depp, nice to meet you all." Well, if I couldn't marry my beloved Johnny on Earth, I can at least steal his last name here. What he doesn't know, after all. "I seem to be lost. If you would kindly direct me to the nearest exit, I'd be happy to be on my way."

They exchanged glances. They were probably wondering if they should give me up to their masters, and furthermore, probably wondering which one to give me to first.

Since I'm a 5'3" brunette with the body of a goddess, in my ever so humble opinion, they were probably thinking of giving me to Little Finger first. He was a pimp after all. And between my long brown hair, and fierce brown eyes, I was considered quite pretty where I came from.

Of course, they didn't know that it was 5'3" of absolute pain that awaited any move to defile me. Say what you will about the asshole that sent me here, but he did teach me how to fight with a knife very well.

Wait, did he do that on purpose? Is that why he wanted to teach me how to fight with the sword so badly? So he could send me here and I wouldn't die in minutes?

Perhaps I hadn't given his dedication to evil enough credit. If nothing else, he's good at thinking several moves ahead.

"Why are you here, girl?" One priest said. Bold of him, to speak first. From my knowledge, the one who spoke first received the blame of things went south. And they usually went south.

"As I said, I'm lost. Just point me to the Kings Road, and I'll be going." I explained.

A plan was forming in my head. I couldn't decide whether I should go home, or stay and try to rule here. But either way, I'd need serious resources to do that. And people around me who I could trust not to stab me in the back. If I can find my way North, and 'invent' something from Earth, wealth would be easy. The North, they pride themselves on loyalty, they would never betray me.

I grinned internally. And power would come easily, if I seduce Rob Stark. The King in the North may have failed in George's universe, but perhaps he shouldn't in this one.

Either way, I can't stay in Kings Landing. Too many traitors here.

Then again, if I could kill Joffery, karma would be on my side for some time. On the flip side, if I did kill Joffery, then the continent wouldn't go into turmoil, and I wouldn't have a chance to grab power.

"That won't do." Said one of the priests. "Come with me, I'll take you somewhere safe." Without waiting for my approval, he grabbed my arm, and dragged me away.

POV - Emma

What. The. Fuck.

I don't know where I am. I don't know when I am. I know who I am, but just barely. I know what I am; a human. Do I know why I am? No, but I try not to think about it.

Something else I know: that god damned bastard is going to wish he was never born when I see him. I still don't know why I decided to do that stupid chant of his, but clearly, I will not be doing anything he wants ever again.

My name is Emma. And I'm in the middle of a stupid fucking forest. I hate forests. It's fucking freezing. I hate the cold. And I'm in my pajamas.

They're not even pajamas. It's a fucking tank top and shorty shorts. If someone finds me here, I'm asking for a blanket first, and a knife second. Blanket for my cold, and my modesty, and the knife for...

Well, just the modesty I suppose. Wouldn't want anyone getting handsy with me. The fact that I feel safer with a knife is also important. I wouldn't worry about it much at home, since Lauren and the fucking idiot who threw me here have made it clear that anyone who flirts with me flirts with death.

But they're not here.

I frowned. My family's gone. And I may never see them again.

A pit in my stomach grew, and found its way into my throat. Before I knew it, tears were in my eyes.

No!

I wiped away the tears, and drew myself up to my full 5'9" glory. I am Emma, and I will not cry!

I'll find civilization, a knife, and my friends. Then I'll find him, and he'll send me back. And everything will go back to normal.

Expect for his face, of course. It'll never look the same once I'm done with it.

I walked a fair distance, until I found a grisly sight. A stag had fought some sort of giant wolf, and they both died.

It looked like the stag got its antlers in the wolf, then the wolf ripped the throat out of the stag, but the wolf died of blood loss. Or maybe organ damage. I'm not good with animals that aren't puppies.

I resisted vomiting, but I did see a road. I climbed my way up, only to see horsemen approaching.

Horsemen? Really? So out of fashion. And horses stank.

But that didn't matter. What mattered, was that there were humans on those horses, that would take me to a city!

The leading horsemen gave me a strange look, not that I could blame him. He stopped, and waved his hand for the others to join him.

"Girl. What are you doing here? And in your current state of dress? Did you get lost from the brothel?" He was dressed in furs of all things, and had hair that was either red or brown. Auburn maybe? He was handsome enough, but he did just imply I was hooker. Not a good first impression for a young man to make on a young woman such as myself.

A other horsemen decided to chime in, "If you're from the brothel, I'd love to give you a ride back!" This one was not only significantly uglier, but ruder as well. He had sandy hair, and I couldn't help but compare him to a weasel.

I curled my lips in disgust. Men were such awful creatures. The first one didn't seem so bad, only asking, but that second was clearly someone to avoid. Although, I think that may have been a compliment. He was hitting on me, even if it was rudely and poorly. Not that I can really blame him, my beauty has rendered more than a few male mouths useless. Perfectly styled brunette hair, hourglass figure, and doe brown eyes make me a wonderful combination of beauty. "No, I don't know where I am. Can you please take me back to whatever city you came from?"

A new rider came from the back. "Robb, get the girl up. Jon, get a better look at those animals. Theon, keep your remarks to yourself. Girl, what is your name, and purpose on my lands?"

Should I tell him my name? I'll just give a fake last name. "My name is Emma Dewshown. I don't know what I'm doing here, I went to sleep and woke up here. Where am I?"

The man frowned. He looked kind of like the first rider, so they may be family. Speaking of the first horseman, he gave me his fur cloak, took my hand and helped me onto his horse. Perhaps he was a gentleman after all.

"You're in the North of Westeros, in the forest near Winterfell. Does that sound familiar?"

I shook my head. "Sorry. I've never heard of any of that. I'm from the United States of America. I don't suppose you've heard of that?" I asked. Worth a shot.

Also, thank goodness I took horse riding lessons when I was younger. I didn't embarrass myself in front of Prince Kinda-Charming here.

"No, I have never heard of such a place, although it reminds me of the Free Cities of Essos. My name is Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of the North. You're riding with my eldest son, Robb Stark. You've met Theon Greyjoy, my ward. My son Jon Snow is examining the wolf below you."

I looked at his other son. "Why doesn't he have the same name as your other son? Not that I mind, Snow is kind of a prettier name than Stark, no offense."

The man in question came back from the wolf. He had black, curly hair, and brown eyes. Equally as handsome as the man I'm riding a horse with.

"Because I'm a bastard. My father sired me from a woman he was not married to in a time of Great War. He was gracious enough to raise me as his own." He explained. He did not look happy.

I tensed. Now I was the one making bad impressions. "I'm sorry, I didn't know! Please don't be mad!"

The man tilted his head. "Mad? I'm not mad."

Robb chuckled. "That's just his face Emma, he's not mad."

And just like that, I suddenly forgot all about the cold. My face was as red as a tomato, and I did not see a way out.

Jon shook his head. "My Lord, it is a direwolf killed by a stag. There are five pups."

Theon got off his horse. "Well, they won't live long out here." He drew his knife. "Give them to me, I'll take care of them."

I frowned. He was way too quick to come to the 'murder innocent animal' idea.

Luckily, Jon had similar thoughts. "My Lord, there are five pups. One for each of your children. I believe this to be an omen."

Eddard stroked his beard, and Theon stopped his advance. "Hm. Take them back with us, we will deal with them at Winterfell."

Theon frowned, and out his knife away. Jon looked like he was happy, but also constipated. I considered asking Robb, but he may just tell me 'that's just his face' again, and I'm not about to put my foot in my mouth again.

Theon scowled as he mounted his horse, and Jon handed him three pups. He then went back, and found two more. He gave me the remaining two.

Oh my god, they were so cute! I tried my hardest not to squeal, or bounce, or show any form of having the extremely real panic attack I was having at the level of cuteness of these puppies, but I think the rest saw anyway.

Just as Jon was about to get on his own horse, another pup ran out after him. Instead of the grey pelt like the other five, this one was completely white, save some of his mothers blood. Creepy.

"Look Jon, that's ones for you!" Theon remarked. "The runt of the litter, how fitting."

I really didn't like Theon. From the look on Jons face, he didn't either. But then again, that might just be his face.

POV - Amaury

Something's are not meant to be experienced.

The current weather was one of them for me. I am not a fan of the heat. I am not a fan of the desert. I am not a fan of dying of dehydration.

I am a fan of the finer things in life. Comfortable beds, fine food, high quality video games.

These are not things found in deserts.

My name is Amaury, and I am horribly lost. It's been a couple of hours, of walking upwards of a stream. Have a boyscout for a friend, and you'll end up with some basic survival skills.

The Sun was not helping my pale skin. I was rather proud of it. Previously, it was immaculate. Now though, it is likely sunburned.

I let out a sigh.

At least my hair is still perfect. Short on the sides, but ling and wavy on top, it was the perfect hairstyle for a proper Frenchman such as myself.

There's something coming towards me. It might be a hallucination.

Nope, not a hallucination. Hallucinations are good things, like water, and naked women.

From what I can tell, several hundred horsemen are approaching me. This is not something that is good. And therefor, not a hallucination.

Also, this may not be good for me.

Should I run?

No, I wouldn't get too far. And there are t any white flags around, so I suppose I'll just have to wait for them to find me, and see what they want.

And so I sat down, waiting for my fate. I really hate the Sun. I hadn't realized it up until this moment, but I really hate it.

By the time they surrounded me, I was nearing blacking out.

"Water?" I croaked. Since when was I this dehydrated.

Wait. That might be one of the symptoms of dehydration. Not realizing it.

The leader of the band threw something at my feet. I picked it up, and discovered it was some kind of water skin made from real animal parts. Interesting. It doesn't really matter though, as long as there's real water in it.

I drank greedily, and a little fell from my lips, trailing down my chin. Warm water had never tasted so good in my life.

After a minute, it was empty. I wiped my lips, and examined my rescuers.

Five men on horse surrounded me. Each of them had biceps that were bigger than my waist, and had what appeared to be real weapons. One of them said something in a language I didn't understand. Sounded kind of like Russian, but that may have just been because they had similar guttural sounds.

"I speak English, French, and Spanish." I said. That didn't work. "Je parle français, anglais, et espangol." Another bust. "Hablo al español, englés, y francés." Not good. They still didn't know what I was saying.

They didn't understand. The one who threw me a water skin said something to his compatriots, and they nodded. Before I knew it, I was thrown over the back of one of the horses, going back to wherever they came from.

Whatever. It can't be worse than wandering in the desert, right?

POV - Matt

I consider myself to be a very patient person.

However, this situation is not something I can be patient about. I fell asleep, and now I woke up and I'm not where I fell asleep. This is not good. This is quite bad.

But it's ok. Everything always works out in the end. I just need to have faith.

I took a deep breathe.

Ok. Let's go over the situation again.

I was at a party. I left the party. I came home. I went to bed. I woke up here.

Where's here? It's cold, and windy, and everything is awful. Kind of like England, my homeland, but worse.

Oh, and there's a castle. I woke up in front of the gates in fact. I suppose it was lucky that I fell asleep wearing regular clothes, blue jeans, a nerdy t-shirt that says "Rock, Paper, Scissors, Spock", a heavy gray sweater, and tennis shoes, otherwise I would've frozen to death some time ago.

The damned guards wouldn't let me into the castle, so I found shelter nearby. That's where I am now, sitting about ten minutes away from the castle, but hidden so the guards can't terrorize me if it suits them. Not that they could if they wanted to. My extensive knowledge of hand to hand combat and swordplay would see to their defeat. But I'd rather not have to deal with them.

Everything would be fine. This is probably a dream, anyway. I just need to have faith, and everything will work itself out.

I heard something crunch. Probably a twig, meaning that someone is nearby. I opened my eyes.

Not five feet from me, was a beautiful woman crouching, observing me.

She had copper red hair, and somehow had fire red eyes. She had the body a supermodel would kill for, full breasts and hips, but a slim waist. I'm honest enough to admit I have a weak spot for beautiful woman. I blame my Y-chromosome.

My own physical attributes seemed to go unnoticed by the female population of my home. My handsome bed head and my sharp blue eyes should have landed me at least one girlfriend this year, but I've been refused twice. I of course, blame the mixed signals they send.

The woman was wearing a flame red dress, that went down to her ankles, although I couldn't see them. Oddly enough, she had a red chocker collar with a ruby at the center.

"Hello." I said. Manners will cost me nothing. "My name is Matthew."

She blinked.

"It is good to meet you Matthew." She offered sheer hand, and I shook it. "Come with me at once Matthew."

I rose, and followed her. My faith rewarded me, once again. That'll show the atheist bastard.

Wait, maybe he caused this? He did say that we would be taken to a 'better world' if I did the chant. And I did do the chant with him, more to be polite, since he's my best friend, but I still didn't believe it. I just indulged him. It's easier to do that sometimes.

"What's you name Miss?" I asked. Never hurt to know a beautiful woman's name. Also, since she was leading me, I figured it best if I knew a bit more of what was going down.

"My name is Lady Melisandre. You may call me Melisandre."

That was nice. It was good to get on a first name basis with people. "In that case, call me Matt. I like it better anyway."

"Very well Matt." She said. She had yet to look back at me.

Before I could ask her where we were going, we got there. The castle I had just left. "I'm sorry Melisandre, but I was just kicked away from this castle. This may not be the best place for me."

She finally looked back at me. Except, it was more like she looked through me. Then she smiled. It was a mix of the look one would give to a child making a simple error, and and of a look one would receive if they're about to get a surprise. "No, you shall stay here for some time. The Lord of Light requires you."

Was she talking about Jesus? She better be talking about Jesus. I am not about to convert. But I also didn't have too many options. I suppose I'd just play along for now.

Melisandre led me through the gates, as the guards who had previously shooed me now saluted her. Odd, but good for me.

Several minutes later, we arrived at a room in the castle. And it was a real live freaking castle. It would do for now, but I would be looking into other arrangement sooner or later.

"These shall be your quarters for now. I hope you find them suitable. The Lord of this castle, Lord Stannis Baratheon, is away at the moment. He has left me in charge, and I break my fast at six in the morning, have lunch at one in the noon, and dine at seven in the evening. I hope you will join me then. We have much to discuss. It is late now, you should rest. Tomorrow, I will explain this world to you during our fast breaking, and have a servant show you around the castle until lunch. There, you will ask any questions you may have for me. After that, I wish for you to get to know the people of the castle, specifically the guards. Any questions about this schedule?"

I shrugged. Seemed easy enough. Sleep, eat, learn, explore, eat, learn, talk, eat, sleep, repeat. The details can be worried about as it occurs. "No questions."

"Good." She nodded, and headed away.

I widened my eyes in shock. "Wait!" I called. "How will I know when it's six? There's no clock in my room!"

She didn't even break her pace. "A servant will wake you at half past five to prepare you."

Well, alright then. Not sure about this 'servant' business, but perhaps it was better to learn first, ask questions later. More importantly, it was better to sleep now, and learn later.

POV - Vannessa

I don't know what's going on.

When I woke up, I was staring down the hole in the floor. That hole led to a several thousand foot drop.

By the time I was done screaming my lungs out, someone picked me up.

It was a knight. A real life knight, in armor, with a sword and shield.

This is definitely a dream. The last thing I remember is going to sleep. So that must mean this is a dream, right?

Except, aren't you supposed to be in control of your dreams? And despite my best efforts, I'm not at home with a chocolate bar watching my favorite episode of Glee.

I'm in some sort of trial.

All the people dressed in old fashioned clothes and armor are delaying what to do with me. Specifically, if they should kill me for impregnating their fortress, whatever that means, or let me go, since there's no real evidence I did anything other than be here and alive at the same moment.

Oh, and I'm in a onesie too. Did I mention that? It's very comfortable, and it helps my nerves, but it's doesn't help my cause for 'Please don't kill me I'm totally sane just really high key lost and also maybe dreaming'. Of course, I'm too pretty for them to kill, anyway. I have a innocent face, and between that and my adorable hair, they shouldn't even consider killing me. My figure helps too, of course. I've already attracted several lingering looking from the 'honorable knights' of wherever I am, and I'm not sure if that's good or bad yet.

"Enough!" The lady on the throne shouted. She was in charge. It was good to see a woman in charge. Except she didn't look all there, to be honest. I think it had something to do with the child in her lap that seemed far too old for this type of coddling. "This is a time for mourning. My husband has passed, and his murderers run free. We cannot divide ourselves on an issue so petty as this. Girl, what is your name?"

I gulped. I don't want to give her my real name, but I also don't want to lie, or not say anything at all. I'll settle for a half truth then. "My name is Vannessa Spears."

She glared at me, as if I had done some injustice to her. Oh, damn it! "My Lady." I squeaked out. Her glare lessened, but didn't fully go away.

"We must come to a swift conclusion to this. Those that wish her executed, line up to my right. Those that wish her no harm, to my left. In rows of five, to be easily counted." The Lady said. Aaron was it? No, that's not quite right...

Once the other people were lined up, I counted. My eyes widened. It was a dead tie. They weren't about to come to some sort of 'She'll be half-dead' compromise, right? I'm too young to die!

The lady sighed. "It's a tie." She put her hand onto her forehead, and paused. Then she smiled. I do not like her smile, I decided. "Lord Arryn, you may decide her fate. Should she fly. Or should she roam free?"

The boy got off his mothers lap. At least, I think that's it was his mother. I'm not entirely sure of everything at the moment.

Wait, hold up. Is that child really going to decide my fate? I was about to open my mouth, then realized maybe I shouldn't offend the person who held my life in their hands.

"She's too pretty to break. Can we keep her mother?" He asked. He seemed a little too happy for a boy who just lost his father. Maybe they weren't that close.

The woman smiled. "You're the Lord, you may do anything you like! If you want to keep her, we shall keep her!"

Well. That's good.

POV - Ebby

Things are not good. Things are bad. It is cold, I am close to dying of frostbite, and I have no idea where I am.

It's some sort of forest. No animals, and the trees are really big.

I wandered for what seemed like hours, until a band of misfits found me. I say misfits, because that's my nice word for barbarians. They had poorly kept clothes, that were ripped and a hideous shade of grey, and all had hair that would have broken any comb. Absolutely unacceptable.

But, after they confirmed I had no weapons, and that I was going to freeze to death if I didn't get warm soon, they offered their help.

Well, offer is a weak word for what they did.

They threw some fur coats over me, which was as warm as it was odorous, that being very, and at me down. Some went to find firewood, and they soon started a fire. Things were looking up, if I ignored the smell.

"So what's your name?" The one in charge asked. I was taller than all of them, but this didn't seem to intimidate them. Likely due to the weapons they carried, and the ease of which they carried them with.

"My name is Ebram sir. But you can call me Ebby." I said. Everyone always mispronounce Ebram anyways.

"Don't call me sir. I'm in charge, but we're Free Folk." He responded.

What the Hell is a Free Folk? "Sorry, I've never heard of the Free Folk. I... Don't think I'm from around here." I said.

He growled. Literally, growled. "You may have heard of us being referred to as Wildlings. But we're more than that. We have a system of life, that doesn't demand we kneel and make us pretend to give two shits about whoever said in charge. The leader is determined by strength, not blood. We're all equal up here."

I nodded. Sounds like my kind of place. "What's the biggest weapon you got?" I asked. If strength determined leadership, this was very good. I knew how to handle large weapons very well, warhammers and longswords specifically. A friend taught me how, some years ago.

"We're not giving you shit here, but there may be something back at our camp you can use. You'll have to survive until then." He explained.

I nodded. "Alright. What's your name again?" I asked. "And where are we going?"

"My names Tormund. I lead my clan of about a hundred Free Folk. Once you've warmed up, we'll head back to my camp. There, we'll figure out something."

Good. A plan that allowed for improvisation is a plan that won't break. It'll definitely bend though. The first thing I'm going to do as leader, is force everyone to wash their damned clothes.

POV - ?

Things are going perfectly according to my plan. Perhaps they were a bit colder than I had imagined, but that was insignificant.

It was a problem that will soon be solved.

I woke up exactly where I meant to, in the middle of Crastors Keep. I slaughtered them all, hopefully that will hurt the intelligence gathering of the Knights Watch. And maybe spread rumors of the White Walkers, or perhaps even create my own personal rumor.

It doesn't really matter. I'm almost to The Fist of the First Men. Once I'm there, everything will be set. All I'll need is patience.

Actually, I may have a problem with that last part. Patience was never really my thing.

Then again, I may just freeze to death in this cold. I should've worn heavier clothes when I went to sleep. Oh well.

Hey! It's some Wildlings! Awesome, I'll kill them and take their furs.

There's... Hm... Seven of them. I love the number seven.

Hello everyone. That't the end of this chapter. I think it turned out pretty well, even if this is just a bunch of set ups. I think I've already said this, but I did exaggerate several skill sets of the characters, specifically their ability to fight. As far as I know, only Matt has any real experience fighting. Everyone else I just said the sorcerer taught them briefly before they were sent here.

Speaking of the sorcerer, yes, it's me. I'm evil. And I sent the other characters here, both in the Fic and as an author. I thought it was clever. No, I won't tell you my name just yet. Yes, my scenes will generally be much shorter than everyone else's.

No last names. I'm coming up with them as I go, they aren't symbolic of anything.

I tried to describe the characters as best I could, since no one here knows who they are. Mention it if you want a bit more of a description, and if there's a huge outcry, then I'll write a bit more about their appearances, but otherwise I'm leaving it up to your imagination.

It's tough writing about people you know personally. I still don't think I got Ebby totally. But oh well. They'll change slowly but surely over the course of this.

I will probably update sooner rather than later, since people in real life seem to like it, and are pressuring me to write more.

REVIEW! It shows you care.