Quick note: Thanks to all who are reading my story. You are awesome. :3

Oh, and I might not update for the rest of the week, I have to visit colleges, and I won't have wifi there :P

I have a quick question though: I am tempted to name Maryland either a name starting with an M or naming him Benjamin, after Benjamin Banneker (or I could name him after Cabot). I would like it very much if I receive your input on this, for I am unable to have Maryland, one of the original 13, be a large part of my story unless I have a name for him. Thanks!

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Delaware: Dylan – A slight pushover, always loyal to the country, and his views are always known by the others without him having to say anything. His physical body is 15 and is five feet five inches. It is unknown whether or not his physical body has ever gone through puberty, but chances are likely that is the case, since the only states that have gone through puberty are the 13 original colonies, California, and Texas. He has brown hair and sea drenched blue eyes. One of the few relatively 'normal' states, holds authority unofficially over the younger states, and his personality does not stand out, making him inherently not a leader-type. Becomes aggressive when wrestling. Responds to: Dylan, Delaware, Dill Pickle, and Brother.

New York: Emma – Very diverse person, and has multiple facets to her personality. She is friendly and loves the theater, but because of her ties with the underworld (mobs, gangs, drug trades, etc.) she has a shorter fuse than she used to. Loves fedoras, and usually wears one when she is hanging out with her "twin" New Jersey, who also fancies fedoras, just not as much. They are not twins, but they tend to inadvertently act like each other at various times. She knows many different styles of torture, and knows the most languages of the world compared to all of her siblings, thanks to having New York City. Her favorite languages are English, Chinese, and Italian. Because of being so busy, is an insomniac. She is five feet and two inches, and is pale, short but stylish dark brown hair, with blue eyes. She sometimes wears heels so she is close to the same height as New Jersey. Responds to: New York, York, Peppermint Patty, Emma, and Broadway.

New Jersey: Johnathan – Is very close to New York, and tends to act more hostile whenever he feels she is being threatened. He is five feet and six inches, and has curly brown hair that he tends to keep close to a buzz cut. His eyes are a dark blue with hazel on the inner part of his iris. Knows a thrift when he sees one, and he enjoys hanging out on his shore during the summertime. Has a soft spot for those of the Jewish faith, even though he himself is not Jewish. During the summertime, he tends to have a large tan, but during the winter months, he is just as pale as New York. Responds to: Jersey, New Jersey, John, Johnathan.

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America: May 1st, 1803: Sometime before dawn

Alfred F. Jones was sleeping soundly on the floor, a cold sweat beginning to form on his face. He was dreaming a sad and scary dream, not one involving ghosts, but of one with a much darker meaning. He was there, in Washington, unable to control anything, unable to function, and England and France and whoever else was taking, picking at his land, and he was helpless, pinned by shoes that were made of stone, molding him to the earth itself.

Suddenly, everything, every picture, every strange image in his mind disappeared, and there was darkness. Absolute darkness, so black that he could not see even his hands when he thought he held them to his face. A soft, pleasant humming sound came, and orbs of light began forming upon his body, from various regions. Two on his back, one on his right hand, two more on his right arm, one on his ear, he could not see it, but he could feel that was where it was. Three seemed to form, spread out on his right leg, one more on his left knee, one on his ribcage, one at his bellybutton, and one on his left shoulder.

There were three or so more, but Alfred could not pinpoint where those were at the moment, for they were dimmer. All he could feel was warmth, that something was going to happen to make this situation better. Somehow. He could almost cut the warmth with a swipe of his fingers if he wanted to, but did not want the warmth to stop. Soon, it was clear to him that two of the orbs in particular, the one on his right hand and the one on his shoulder, were beginning to outshine the rest, and soon broke off, taking a chunk out of his body where they had been.

For some reason, this lack of substance inside of him was not unsettling, for the pieces of flesh and bone grew back, like water filling into a vase, the original pieces of himself floated with the orbs of light, which now were becoming colors of their own. One was beginning to obtain a teal shade, while the other was darkening to become more red, almost like a cranberry.

All of a sudden, a thought struck Alfred, and he did not know why. If he had kids, what would he name them? This question was strange, for he was not one to become married or have kids, for obvious reasons. Grinning, he reached out a hand to touch one of the orbs, but it moved away, slightly, and suddenly a list of female names created a barrier in-between himself and the orb. It was not fun, in Alfred's mind, but he then realized that it was a dream, and once a dreamer notices that they are dreaming, the dreams become not as fun. But he participated anyway, for he never backed out of a challenge or... well, anything, actually.

Above the list of names was, in bright letters, VIRGINIA. Well, that makes it easier. If this was how babies were made, Alfred was all for it. So he looked down the list in search of names beginning with the letter "V," finding the name Victoria to his liking. All of a sudden, the world seemed to rotate abnormally fast, and he was now standing in front of the cranberry colored orb. This time, the list was for boys names, and the word MASSACHUSETTS was above the list. In exactly the same manner, he proceeded to look at the names starting with "M," and thought that Maxwell was a fun name, for it could be shortened if the owner of the name wished it to be.

The world around him distorted, the darkness mixing, mingling with the light and the various colors, the two orbs appearing to burst, and he could hear a small voice whisper to him words like "sir," "up," "please," and "wake." Wait a minute.

Alfred F. Jones shot up from his dream, only to go back down, for he happened to hit a servant boy in the head in the process. The servant boy was in no better condition, rubbing his forehead with tears beginning to form at the edges of his eyes.

"You okay, kid?" He asked, sitting back up, his back meeting the cool morning air. The servant boy looked at Alfred and opened his mouth, about to tell him of the work the President would ask for during this day, yet suddenly stopped, mouth ajar, staring ahead.

"Umm..." Alfred proceeded to wave his hand in front of the kid's face, which looked to be around seven or so years old. The servant boy started to shake, as if he had seen a ghost (he had gotten used to Alfred's presence as a nation already, so he knew that he could not be the reason for the boy's shaking). Silently and cautiously, he lifted a finger, pointing directly behind Alfred's head. Alfred stared at the boy, confused beyond belief until he heard that sound... that fateful, changing sound. And...

Behind him came two high pitched, gurgling sounds of happiness.

Massachusetts: Sometime in American History, Winter season.

The fourteen counties, moving roughly from west to east, are Berkshire, Franklin, Hampshire, Hampden, Worcester, Middlesex, Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, Bristol, Plymouth, Barnstable, Dukes, and Nantucket.

Oh, Nantucket. How much Maxwell hated thee. It was not because of the people residing in it, oh no, they were some of the nicest, friendliest people he knew, it was just that his stupid cowlick, the physical representation of that county, was so incredibly hard to control that he needed more hair-gel than he would prefer just to keep it with the rest of his hair. Actually, even with hair-gel, it did not always stay down, and thus forced Maxwell to keep a "manly" hair clip (although his siblings deny the manliness of any hair clip) in his pocket at all times.

Being quite honest, Maxwell worked as a bartender, he was not going to admit his age to his boss, because the boss knew that he was underage, so the 'don't ask, don't tell' motto became the restaurant's motto, as long as the lovely employees were working hard making a living. He needed the money, but he was not nearly close to the country's definition of poor, and as a result would never admit to his brothers and sisters that he was paranoid about the length he would be able to live comfortably.

He was also never going to admit that he regained a British accent when he was in fits of extreme emotions, so Maxwell always tried his hardest to never show more than the needed amount of emotion in any given situation. Then again, he thought, his only elder sister had the same habit of regression, so that had to count for something, he just could not think of what for.

The bell over the door chimed softly, like those of a church heard from a distance. This was his sanctuary, in a sense, a place where he could relax, to interact with his citizens, to make them feel at home, to give them shelter, to make himself learn more about society, to just be.

Now, however, a young man, looking no more than 20, entered the bar, and Maxwell could tell right away that he was not from the area. It was not as if the customer was wearing tourist like outfit, but he just had never seen this man inside his bar before. The man who entered the bar had wavy, blond hair reached to basically the bottom of his ears, and a lone curl had sprung from his hair, standing out from the rest of his head as if to ask politely for attention. Pale skin, from what Maxwell could see, that had not seen the sun in a while, and a tan coat, thickness suitable for the weather outside. As soon as the customer entered the bar, the glasses fogged up from the sudden change in climate (it had been snowing and was quite windy considering it was not yet the heart of the winter season) and he began to unbutton his coat. Maxwell heard the man sigh, and mumble something about what he perceived to be a pet, because what was heard consisted of 'take care of' and 'he's so' something or other. It was not nice to pry into personal business of others, so Maxwell resumed cleaning the glass he had in his hand.

The customer who had just come in looked around the place, and noticed that there was not a single customer inside the bar. Automatically, the person reacted in a way that Maxwell found strange, and just could not describe in words. The man awkwardly slunk over to the bar itself, as if trying, yet not at the same time, to not be noticed. To a person like Maxwell, who, partly in thanks to his 'father,' basked in attention when given, this was very odd.

As the customer was about to set his coat on the chair next to where he was sitting, Maxwell noticed that the man was wearing a bright red hooded jacket with a small, white maple leaf in the place where a left breast pocket would be on a button down shirt.

"Would you like anything tonight, sir?"

The customer looked up to meet Maxwell's eyes, the glasses almost free of fog. He stuttered, and replied in a very faint sounding voice.

"Ah, y-yes please. I am not from around here, s-so anything would be nice, eh." It was then that Maxwell noticed something quite interesting. This customer who had just walked in looked quite like his 'father,' but with different hair and darker eyes, almost a purple tint to them. Then Maxwell realized something that was too important to let the man at the bar know that he knew who, or more exactly what, he was.

Maxwell sighed at his string of unluckiness with Canadians, seeing as when he answered the phone the other night, all he could hear on the other end was a bunch of arguing and a random eh thrown in, until someone had finally said to him "Nevermind, sorry for calling," the line going dead promptly after. He just wanted to know about his friend and how he was doing. Noticing the Canadian's response, Maxwell quickly reacted with an appropriate response.

"It's not everyday one sees such a timid Canadian." After a pause, he flashed a trademark smile and asked the man for his ID, knowing that the man was plenty old enough (it was fun asking people, anyway).

The customer seemed surprised at the question, but proceeded to show Maxwell the identification needed, and proceeded to rest his head on one of his hands, that hand's elbow being on the bar. Maxwell could have laughed out loud at how true to this guy was to how his 'father' described him, but that would not be nice on his behalf. So, as a light jest, Maxwell grinned and mimicked the man, elbows on the bar and his head in his hand.

"You look like you need a pick-me-up." Showing a goofy smile, one he hoped the customer would realize that he was joking, he quickly turned around and looked for the schnapps bottles. "Appletini?"

He looked in the reflection of a random shaker, and noticed the man jolt up, shocked at the suggestion given to him. Sad to say that Maxwell could not hold in his laughter any longer, and pulled out what he had been searching for: a bottle of cinnamon schnapps.

"Sorry sorry, couldn't help myself there." He started to roam to where the Irish cream liqueur was. "Quick question: Cinnamon or non?" The man's expression to Maxwell's question was one of complete confusion.

"But I haven't even -"

Without letting him finish his sentence, Maxwell interjected while in the midst of working on a concoction. "Of course not! It's a bartender's duty to know exactly what the customer needs. So back to my question, cinnamon for garnish, or not?"

"I.. I guess not?"

Maxwell flashed a grin, "Always a good choice." He placed a light brown drink in a martini glass in front of the customer. "What you have in front of you is one shot of brandy, two shots of Irish cream liqueur, half of a shot of cinnamon schnapps, ice, and one teaspoon of maple syrup. A mapletini, if you will."

He grinned as the Canadian's eyes widened, and then proceeded to hungrily take in the drink that was placed in front of him.

New York: 2005

In 2005, nearly 170 languages were spoken in New York City, and 36% of its population was born outside the United States

For some reason or another, New York could not understand why her siblings were not understanding her when she opened her mouth to speak. It was that time again, where all the states come together and have a slight 'party' of sorts, to talk about the situations within each state and be merry. All the states came together at a point in the summer (usually between June 25th and August 15th) for this meeting, without their 'father,' and a second meeting for Christmas time, with their 'father.' And she just so happened to be making a relatively important speech, concerning how much she cared for her siblings and diverseness of the nation in general.

Her elder brother (by barely a margin), Johnathan, sighed, raised his hand, then spoke up. "Speak in English, please."

This statement confused her, and made her pause in her monologue, one that she had practiced for her siblings to hear. She opened her mouth, then promptly closed it. The sudden realization hit her, a fact about herself that she refused to admit fully, a fact she hated (to an extent, but proved useful in many situations with foreigners)

"So..." She then trailed off, before finishing her sentence. "What language was I speaking in this time?"

"I vote Hindi, just because it's one that you can't speak," replied one of her cheekier siblings. He promptly received a whack to the head from everyone's favorite Massachusetts. Their only Massachusetts, obviously, but he generally was the one to hit upside the head whoever needed it at the moment, even if it did sometimes happen to be his favorite siblings. He tried denying his favoritism, but is showed occasionally.

"P-rson'ly, Ah think yer speakin' h'brew 'gain," Alabama spoke.

Victoria, the eldest of the bunch, cleared her throat. "Actually darling, our dear sister was speaking in German, which does sound a bit like Hebrew at times." She looked straight at New York. "Please continue your speech, but this time please keep it to either English or a Native American tongue." For some reason, whenever a state spoke in a language native to the land they were on, even if the languages were not the same, all 50 states knew exactly what was being said.

Virginia: Early 2009

Virginia was one of five states to receive a perfect score in disaster preparedness according to a 2008 report by the Trust for America's Health, based on criteria such as detecting pathogens and distributing vaccines and medical supplies.

"What? I'm not paranoid."

Samuel rolled his eyes at his older sister's statement. "O' course you ain't, sis. We've been o'er this before. An don' worry your pretty lil' head off, you ain't the only one on da list."

Relaxing a tad, Victoria let her hands rest on her lap, her back having impeccable posture. She gazed at her extroverted sibling, his stetson on the table in front of him. To her left was the second eldest of the siblings, Maxwell, who appeared to be checking the clock on the wall as if an explosion were to happen at any given moment.

"I would like it if you were not so fidgety, dear brother."

He looked at her, dark eyes attempting to burn holes into her soul. "Oh, shove it," He rested his hand on his forehead, and rubbed his temples. Victoria could only roll her eyes at his apparent hangover. Funnily enough, none of them were of 'legal age' in physical appearance, so one had to wonder how exactly he became drunk in the first place.

"Although I am opposed to the meeting being at the Gaylord this year, it is quite logical because the area is relatively safe, and a hospitable is not far if we take a helicopter to get there. One of my main concerns, though, is getting the little ones to this side of the country without arousing suspicion. Now, I know that some states happen to be able to pass off as siblings, such as Utah and Colorado, but they are not old enough to hold a valid permit, and California can only hold so many people in his car! Besides the fact that it is incredibly not safe to even have all of us in the same room as each other, because occasionally someone will remember an itch they'd like to scratch about the civil war and G-d knows what could happen then."

Samuel rolled his eyes at his sibling's rant, and wondered why Maxwell was even here, for he could have sent someone like Dylan to be here at this meeting in his stead. No, he then remembered, Dylan had a tournament today, and most all of our other siblings have loose lips when it comes the the small ones. Which, by the way, was not the best thing in the world, especially if they happened to blab information to Alaska. No one wanted to corrupt her, for she was the little, innocent northern star in their family, and the one person everyone wanted to protect. It also didn't help the fact that she looked barely four years old, and most of the states who had large enough bodies (appearance of at least ten years old) could pick her up easily.

"Okay, Sis, how about we just have the senators or their lovely assistants or someone to just take them here? Without being suspicious." Maxwell's forehead was on the table, but he was attempting to look his sister in the eye. "Also, if that can't happen, then we just have the f-king meeting at, I dunno, Sam's house. It's definitely big enough."

Staring as if to burn holes into her annoying and obviously not sober sibling, Victoria breathed out deeply through her nose, a sign that she was attempting to quell her anger. She clicked her tongue a few times, folded her hands into her lap, and gradually her eyes softened.

"Fine."

Massachusetts: Sometime Recently in American History

Massachusetts is the most populous of the six New England states (which include Maine and Massachusetts' border states except New York).

So what if he was smaller in land mass than most of his siblings up north? He still had more people, so that automatically meant more power. He also happened to have more money than most of his siblings. If anyone dared call him an armpit, Maxwell will find the nearest blunt object and personally ram it where the sun does not shine. Even if it's one of his sisters... Well, actually he would not hurt one of his sisters in that manner. He would probably just make them paranoid about something, since he promised his 'father' that he should not physically hurt one of his sisters ever. The Civil War does not count.

His 'father' never said that about the Civil War, but Maxwell honestly thought it was implied, although 'dad' suffered the most out of anyone because of that bloody mess. And Maxwell meant bloody. It was the time of the most casualties, so many fallen soldiers with no names, with no faces, with no proof that they lived except a pile of decomposing bones in the ground. Hell, he didn't even know if the bones were still around nowadays. But any wound a state would get, their 'father' would get the wound as well, only not as deep and maybe in a different place, for the wounds are only symbolic of battles and wars, not for the country to die.

The states, however, did come close to dying, and some did die. Once, Victoria and some of the other states fought in a battle or two during the Civil War. Those who were girls dressed as guys (Victoria does not have that much of a... chest, so with the proper bandages she can hide the fact that she is a girl) and shots were fired. Blood was everywhere. Their 'father' was in excruciating pain, and was hospitalized. They did not know that he felt their physical pain, that even if one of us were to accidentally walk into a wall and bruise our arm, that he felt it to a minor extent. It is the proof that they are a part of him, and not separate entities.

Needless to say, the ones who died woke up the next morning, some under a light blanket of dirt, for no soldier or civilian had the time to properly bury anyone then (thankfully). But when they woke up, they knew what had happened, what pain they had inadvertently caused.

It never happened again.

Delaware: Sometime in American History

Delaware is the only state in the United States without commercial air service

He never did understand why his siblings were so avid about flying. Sure, it was the fastest mode of transportation the states had (to get over very long distances) , and Ohio and North Carolina would not stop bickering about who the Wright brothers originally belonged to whenever the subject was brought up. The thing was that the brothers were born in Dayton, Ohio, or someplace of the sort. They then moved to North Carolina because the winds were not favorable or something. They then, well, made the airplane. It was not rocket science, yet every time the FAA or something relating to airplane came about, those two would start bickering.

Dylan just could not stand the useless arguments, but then again, he realized, he was the only state in the entire country that did not have commercial air service. He used to, for a few years, but that went and failed miserably. He looked to the sky, so open, so blue, so fresh and clean with only the few spots of clouds overhead.

A plane flew by overhead. It was not uncommon, for even though he did not have airports that housed those planes, he was smack dab in the middle of a bunch of flying patterns, but this one seemed different somehow. To put it in words, the silhouette of metal seemed almost ominous, like some tragic event was about to happen in the near future. Not tragic for himself, for he had no monuments or parks of real importance that would warrant anyone to come and bomb him. And his siblings wondered why he enjoyed not having any large scale tourist locations.

Ah! He almost forgot. Hawai'i's birthday was nearing. It was Auguest 14, and he still did not have a present. If he managed to find a present to send in the next two days, it would get there on time, hopefully. But it's 50th or so birthday was a few years away, even though he still looked like he was five and a half, so maybe, Dylan thought, a more monumental present was in order. Hawai'i became a state in 1959, and this coming birthday would be his 42nd birthday.

Dylan's mind screamed in explicatives, and he rushed to his shoes, which waited patiently at his door. Fourty two is a very important number, and he certainly could not forget about its importance to the world.

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End Notes:

So, in case you guys are wondering what the real storyline is, I'll be saying continued above the title of the segments in the chapter or something of the sort. :3

P.S. Everything is a part of the story, it's just that it is not always pertinent to the section at the moment. Or is it? ;D

P.P.S. Oh! And if you have any wants for me to focus on any of the states besides the original 13, Texas, California, or Alaska, please tell me. I'm always open to suggestions.

P.P.P.S. So, in case any of you are confused, Jean is Quebec and Henry Ontario. If you are wondering why I wanted those names for Canada's provinces, I don't know why for Quebec and look up Sir Henry William Stisted if you're wondering about Ontario.