The Factors

Ep1- About A Girl

ABOUT A GIRL-

          ALEXANDER SQUARE- LATE EVENING.

          Brianna Lars rides the elevated rail around Phaldrom island.

          She is eighteen, Brazilian blond, dark skinned- half swedish

          half hispanic. She needs to be groomed and fed. Her dirty

          blond hair is literally dirty, greasy, and almost brown from

          lack of sun and shampoo. Brie slept some during the day, so

          she could keep her eyes half open at night.Her clothes are

          worn out- white Nirvana T-shirt, and ripped skinny jeans, tan

          men's hiking boots. Her glasses are pressed tightly against

          her nose, smudged. She pulls them back, as if to remove a

          slap from her face.

          The rail stops, the dark night of the city Adrasties. The

          business budding district, the youth commanded most parts.

          The district of budding business and art collectives, now a

          hippie commune.

          She looks hopelessly lost, but she knows exactly where she

          is going. her clothes are ragged, used. She carries a pack

          around her shoulder with things that she needs. its enough

          to survive the weeks with. She has been homeless for 12 but

          it looks like 20. As a traveler, she was wandering from the

          east Yurdiko to the Phaldrom island, capitol of culture of

          arts. Phaldrom was a multicultural city, where the melting

          pot melts, with 22 boroughs.

          Brie was from the southeast district of Circebee, the deep

          east south of Phaldrom. The outdoors, the swamps, the

          fields, the heat it had grown on her. She wanted to know

          what the real city was like. Time for work, and no time for

          school. College was out of her mind. She did not want to be

          a conform artist, like so many of the political junkies who

          bred themselves to expand, evolve, enhance society. The

          three E's of change, council motto.

          There were protesters- hippies, naturalists for individual

          freedom- outside holding signs, and shouting. The constant

          fight, individualism vs control. They wore white, or barely

          anything- painted faces, bodies, and marking symbolizing

          truth, equality, and freedom. The individualist or

          naturalists they called themselves were set to protest

          against the front runner for the new Chancellor of the