Anarchy in the Equestrian Nation

--Third Hour--

Union Jack slumped back in his chair. Writing class was bound to be boring.

"All right class, today's lesson begins our unit on writing fiction. Today, we're going to talk about writing compelling characters."

Union Jack instantly bolted upright. He never could write fiction for that exact reason! He never could figure out what a compelling character was.

This is my chance. This is it. I could use this to become a good writer! he thought excitedly.

"So first, give an example of a compelling character." the teacher continued. Several ponies raised their hooves. "OK, you, up front, third seat from the left, black mane with red tips. You first."

"Turntable's my name ma'am. As for the question, my answer is Griffin from the Griffin the Griffin book series. He's got good intent, but plenty of flaws to balance it out." Turntable said.

Flaws! That's it! All my main characters have all been Pony Sues! he thought as he leaned forward, listening intently.

"You heard him class. Flaws are what make a character compelling. A good main character needs good qualities and bad qualities to be well-written. Our hero can't be some all-powerful, beautiful alicorn who solves all the world's problems. Turntable, describe Griffin's flaws."

"He's short-tempered, rude, sarcastic, and just generally mean."

Union Jack drank in the tips like water, and sat back, taking notes every few seconds.

--Fourth Hour--

Union Jack leaned forward. Fourth hour was Algebra III, something he thought he wouldn't need. His teacher was pretty slack about class. All he ever did was write the day's notes on the board and have the class write them down, and considering the copious quantity of notes he had them scrawl into their notebooks, it usually took all hour. Every Friday there was a test. Today was no different, except for something he hadn't expected. A small note flew across the classroom and landed in Union Jack's notebook. He unfolded it as he wrote and read it.

Union Jack,

I'm playing live at Radio Havok tonight. Be there. In case you don't know where it is, it's the club under my mom's house. The password is your name. You and the other Outcasts are the VIPs. Make sure to bring your gas mask (You're famous now! Looks like that fight in the schoolyard paid off!), and don't address me as anything but DJ Vox (my stage name). Be there early too. You can't miss the first number, Showstopper. It's sort of the Outcasts' unofficial anthem. See you tonight!

-Turntable

Union Jack flipped the note over and wrote

Your mom has a club under her house? You must have one cool mom. Anyway, where is your mom's house, and what music do you play?

-Union Jack

He slid the note across the floor to Turntable, who pulled out another sheet of paper and wrote another note, using the same method Union Jack did to get it to him.

My mom's Vinyl Scratch! Of course she's cool!

You can't miss the house. It's got a record on the front door, and if you press on it, you can feel the vibrations from the club underneath. I play techno of all kinds, from house to dubstep. You'd like it.

-Turntable

The rest of the hour went by uneventfully, with Union Jack squeezing the last of the notes into ten minutes to compensate for the fact that he'd been writing notes for a small chunk of the class.

--Lunch--

Lunch was mostly spent talking about Turntable's gig that night, and about how Union Jack had gained respect among the jocks for having the gall to attack their leader.

I got a huge amount of respect for getting pissed and hitting someone? That's just weird. he thought.

"What's up, Jack? You look upset." Black Bell said, putting a hoof around his shoulders.

"It's nothing, Bell. Just wondering why I got so much respect so fast." he said glumly. She tightened her grip.

"I'm not gonna let you be all down like this, Jack. You're my coltfriend, and I can't let you be unhappy." she said, concerned.

He pulled in closer to her, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, Turntable. Why do you want me to show up at your gig? I barely even know you." he asked.

"Cause you're one of us, man. Outcasts always stick together." he said casually.

"And as for asking me to bring my gas mask?" Union Jack asked suspiciously.

"It's your signature accessory. We each have one. Vagabond's are her wristbands, mine are my headphones, Manga's are his glasses, yours is your mask, Clockwork's is his robot wing, Charger's is her generator, the list goes on." he answered.

Union Jack pressed himself up against Black Bell and listened to the rest of the conversation.