Disclaimer: As many of you are aware, I do not own Digimon, nor do I own 'The Anthem' by Good Charlotte
The Four Seasons: Chapter 1
First Arc
The fork dug into the steaming pile of macaroni, skewering a heaping helping of the pasta and the arm that held the utensil brought it up into the mouth of a blonde haired boy wearing a black and blue hoody shirt. As he chewed, the sounds of the other children around him talked noisily about anything and everything. He caught snippets of the conversations but didn't really pay any attention to them; his attention focused more on the tray of food before him and his studies.
It's a new day, but it all feels old
It's a good life, that's what I'm told
But everything, it just all feels the same
The boy, whose name was Chris, sighed inwardly. It had been at least three weeks since the whole incident concerning what had come to be called amongst the FanFic Domain's contemporaries as The War of Fables (also known by other popular titles as the FanFic Affair, When the Tower Fell, and Fable's Tower) and things had more or less settled back to normal. Well, not exactly. All across the board authors were having trouble uploading any stories and it was expected that this would go on for a while. As a result Chris, like so many other characters, not just OC's but Canons too, were feeling a bit restless. Interestingly this led to some characters actually going as far as to go and create their own stories just to stay in practice. While this 'let's play pretend' phenomenon did much to blow off some steam there was still the average life of a character to live. Keeping up appearances mostly you could say; watching TV, reading a good book, hanging out with friends, parents, studying scripts…
And my high school, it felt more to me
Like a jail cell, a penitentiary
Yes… going to school too. Can you believe it? How strange it seemed to Chris that even though he and those around him weren't considered 'real', they had to keep up the appearance of being real while the authors were away actually living real lives. Well, that was life he supposed. Not much to it. If nothing else it gave him something to do in his 'off' time while the computers that had him and his friends on stage were off and the keyboards were inactive. Still, it was a strange existence. His friend Ryan had once asked what the point to it all was but didn't get an answer that really satisfied him. Oh well, between the two of them Chris wasn't the one who complained about his lot. Nowadays though, Ryan hadn't been as cranky about life. Chris supposed that having died and being brought back to life had something to do with it.
My time spent there, it only made me see
That I don't ever wanna be like you
I don't wanna do the things you do
I'm never gonna hear the words you say
And I don't ever wanna, I don't ever wanna be
You… don't wanna be just like you
Oh what I'm sayin' is this is the anthem, throw all your hands up,
You…don't wanna be you
Go to college, or university, get a real job,
That's what they said to me
But I could never live the way they want
I'm gonna get by, and just do my time, out of step while, they all
Get in line
I'm just a minor threat so pay no mind
Do you really wanna be like them, do you really wanna be another trend?
Do you wanna be part of their drill
'Cause I don't ever wanna, I don't ever wanna be
God, I really wish that song would just… shut up!
And just like that, the song did. Chris sat up and blinked a few times before looking around. None of the other characters seemed to even take notice. But then, they hadn't noticed that the song had even been playing in the first place. Not surprising. Most of the characters around him were the faceless, and that meant that they didn't really have much of a role other than being in the background. That of course didn't mean that they were stupid or even unobservant (even though it certainly seemed like it when kids like him could pass off creatures like digimon as stuffed animals and not have anyone question it), it just meant that they were filling their roles perfectly. Besides, it also had the added bonus of Chris not being swamped by any amorous fans. He liked having something akin to a normal life, even if it wasn't real.
A tray was plopped down in front of him, making the blonde haired boy jump slightly as the chair that sat behind the lunch tray was pulled back and quickly claimed by a blonde haired girl with sea-green eyes and a face that seemed to be calm serenity. Chris groaned. The person sitting at his table was an OC like him, only of a lower grade known as a secondary character. Why she was important at all to their author's world was beyond him, but she existed nonetheless, and it seemed to consist of nothing more than annoying both him and Ryan.
"What do you want Ashley?"
The girl looked at him with an annoyed why the heck are you even asking such a question? Look on her face, and it immediately reminded Chris of something else that he disliked about the girl. She tended to be fairly Mary-Sue-ish, and usually came with all the accessories including her own little troop of henchgirls who, for some odd reason, were absent today.
"What ever do you mean?" Asked Ashley innocently.
"Oh, c'mone Ashley. You never hang out with me. Heck, you barely even speak to me unless it's in a condescending voice and also involves a little bit of heckling and/or shoving me in a locker."
The girl giggled. "Oh that. Can't you take a joke?"
"Usually when I laugh in the end, which with you I don't recall being a part of the equation. I still haven't forgiven you for that time you dumped a tray of cafeteria food down my pants."
The girl known as Ashley began to laugh a little heartily. "Oh, you! I remember that one. Of course you did get me back for that…"
"Can we cut to the chase already, Ashley? I'm kind of in the middle of studying my lines here."
Ashley fixed the blonde haired boy with a glare. "You Main's. You think that just because you're in the lead cast of a story that it gives you the right to be high and mighty over others."
"Give me a break, Ash! You still treat me like dirt half the time and you still pull pranks on both me and Ryan! What do you want? You've got just about everything! Popularity, looks, tons of friends," if you can call them friends, Chris thought. "You've even got our own school wound about your finger…"
"But I have no PART!" The blonde haired girl shouted at him. Chris unconsciously backed away from her with his eyes wide from surprise. Ashley glared at Chris for a bit before looking away almost shamefully.
"It's just… I've always wanted to be part of the crowd. I mean really part of the crowd, and not with those simpering twits that our author has paired me with. I want to matter in our story, but so far all I seem to be is a stupid Mary Sue character. I don't want to be like that. I was hoping that… maybe you could put in a good word for me?"
Chris could probably think of any number of reasons why he shouldn't do anything for this girl who had tormented both him and Ryan from the first day they met, but as he stared into her eyes he felt pity for the poor girl. All she wanted was to feel like she was needed for something and she didn't have that. But then, what kind of role could she have? There wasn't a whole lot that she could do in the fic but… well; maybe he should have a talk to the author anyway. Maybe see about getting her transferred or something like that. Somewhere where she could at least get what she wanted. No easy task seeing as how authors sometimes guarded their characters jealously but…
Suddenly over the loudspeaker, a voice called out.
"WILL THE CHARACTER STUDENTS RYAN AND CHRIS PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY!"
Chris sighed and looked at his tray. "Looks like I gotta go," he said looking back at Ashley, who had a sad look on her face. "Look, I'll see what I can do for you, alright?"
That alone made the girl squeal with joy and Chris just barely dodged being hugged by her as he took up his tray and tossed the food out. As he headed towards the exit, a familiar song started playing again.
You… don't wanna be just like you
Oh what I'm sayin' is this is the anthem throw all your hands up,
You, don't wanna be you
Chris sighed. Long day just got even longer.
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In the world that those of us of the writing persuasion call 'reality' (if it can at all be called that), a fourteen-year-old girl named Sarah sat on the school bus anxiously as they sat outside the house waiting. After a few minutes of no one coming out, the bus closed its doors with a hiss and Sarah slumped in her seat with a sigh. Three weeks and still Mark hadn't shown up for school, and she was getting worried. Okay, she knew about what had happened on the net during the final battle between Mark's Avatar, the Lord of Fantasy, and the assembled forces of the Digimon Branch of the FanFic Domain. She herself didn't participate in it because despite everything that Mark had done, she still considered him her friend. She hadn't expected him to do what he had done, creating the vicious and powerful program known as D-Leter to destroy the FanFic Domain because he couldn't get what he wanted. And now his account has been suspended, and just like that the self-proclaimed Lord of Fantasy had vanished off the face of the earth and from every single discussion board that contained a mention of 'Digimon'. Well, it had been expected that he should have a self-imposed exile in the real world as well but for so long? It wasn't right. She had tried calling his phone, but he never answered, and when she found time she got her parents to drive her or she rode her bike over to his house to check up on him, but always, for three weeks straight, Mark's mother would turn her away and say, "He's not feeling well", and shut the door with a cold shoulder and an angry slam.
Just what was that all about?
She had tried getting in touch with the author's Dean and Digital-Dragon-Master, as Dean had been at the center of the whole ordeal and Digital-Dragon-Master had been the last author to see him, or rather his Avatar form alive, but it was proving notoriously hard to contact them. Digital-Dragon-Master was a bit busy trying to repair the FanFic Domain of course as that was part of her duties (as it was a part of all author's duties, Sarah's included) but Dean seemed to have dropped off the map as well. Where'd he go? And what was he up to?
Sarah felt that she would have to do some deep digging in order to find the answer to that question. Maybe she should visit his account later on once school was over, talk to whatever characters were there and leave him a message. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. It was a place to start. And maybe she should try and find the OC Reno too, since he had been in the author's employ during the crisis. Well, she'd deal with that later, but for now, first thing's first.
School. Sarah groaned. She had a test in trigonometry today.
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Chris walked into the Principal's office to find that his friend Ryan had already beaten him to it, and was currently talking to someone on the phone. No doubt it was their author phoning them again to tell them that another writing session had to be cancelled due to more site malfunctions thanks to the 'War of Fables'. Whatever the case was, Ryan obviously wasn't happy with whoever was on the other line because the first thing that Chris heard when got into the office was…
"No," Ryan told the voice on the other line firmly. "I won't do it." There was a pause on his end during which Chris raised an eyebrow at the principal who just motioned for him to take a chair next to his friend while he delegated. The voice on the phone sounded like… yes. It was their author, and he was rattling on about something, and no doubt whatever it was it made Ryan again say…
"No. I don't care what you say, I'm still not doin' it. That girl is a natural disaster! She hits indiscriminately. Chris and Will still have bruises from the last time they peeved her off."
Ah, thought Chris in understanding as he touched a familiar bruise on his cheekbone. He had gotten it shortly after the end of the War of Fables, right outside of the Domain Tower in fact. I see. Crap. Why's he calling us about this? And for what reason?
There was another pause in Ryan's conversation with their creator. "Oh, very funny. You'll be lucky that she doesn't knock you flat too, like all the other 500 times she has. I still won't do it. Why? The insurance company doesn't cover her. She's part of that we won't pay you if you get hurt by this list. I think she's listed after Impending Doom, and right before Acts of God." Another pause, during which Ryan's frown, if it didn't get any deeper, it certainly got darker. "Stop laughing. I was referring to the wrathful side, you nimrod."
There was another pause in the conversation.
"Can't you try calling them again, or better yet send someone else? Someone other than Chris, or me 'cause… uh… we're allergic to Rika. That's right. Allergic. Well, we tend to break out in bruises so… well can't you send Henry? Who cares if he's back in the Dark Ocean again? Send 'em in! It's not like that author is doing anything with him anyway. Well, what about Ryo? Give me a break! Just because you have your own preferences doesn't mean that she's going to kill him! Kazu? Yeah… that sounded better before I said it. What about Kenta? Do I even want to know why he's on a Locomon? Rrrrrgh! Jeri? Calumon?" Ryan sighed as he slumped in defeat. "Is there anyway we can meet you halfway on this? No? Terrific. Well, here comes another flare up of the strange purple and blue markings. Man… this stinks! Next time I expect to have full body armor and to be covered by armor support. That's right, Transformers style with Gundam Wing as backup. Okay, fine. Good-bye." Ryan hung up the phone with as much self-control as he possibly could muster before sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms in frustration.
"What's up?" Asked Chris, trying to break up the eerie silence that now seemed to pervade the room.
"Our author has been trying to get a hold of Rika and Takato but for some reason they're not answering his calls. Probably means that they're in a fic that's in-progress or something, but either way you and I have just been drafted to track them down and let them know in person that today's writing session has been cancelled. Again."
Chris groaned. Long day just got much, much longer. "Why us? Can't he send someone else? Someone like Will?"
"He's off touring the FanFic Domain still, and has currently cut off all contact for the time being. The jerk. I had hoped to use him as a human shield for when we had to deal with the Digimon Queen."
Chris nodded. "Is that all?"
"Just about, though I'd like to know just how it is that author of ours can get us to jump through hoops like this."
"Well, he is the author…"
"Stop it. You're making me think that we have no free will."
"I thought that was your belief."
"Great, now you're putting words in my mouth."
"But that's what you told me once…"
The sound of their Principal clearing her throat brought the two boys out of their verbal ping-pong match. Once it was clear that she had their attention she spoke.
"I've conferred with your author and have made arrangements for you to be picked up by the FanFic express after school is let out. You are to report to the terminal and board it to take it down to Shinjuku."
"Say hello to that black and blue rash…"
The principal fixed Ryan with a glare before opening her drawer and giving the two boys four tickets, one for each of them and their digimon. Chris frowned.
"I thought the ride was free for registered characters."
"Cutbacks," said the Principal. "Until the Domain website is fully restored this is what we have to work with."
"Oh, man…"
"Now, if you are done here, I would like for you to return to class."
Nodding, Ryan and Chris left the office and walked down the halls of their school. Chris turned to Ryan.
"Do I even want to know what Kenta was doing on a Locomon?"
"Not if you wanna stay sane."
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The data was finally starting to come together. Finally, after three weeks it was nearly complete. The three figures grinned at each other as they watched it begin to take shape and proceed on the path of evolution.
Soon, soon their dreams would be realized.
In the darkness of cybernetic oblivion, a typical bad guy laugh echoed.
7
