Title: If I Only Were A Goth
Author: Donnie
Fandom: South Park
Setting: South Park Elementary
Pairing: None
Characters: Firkle Smith, Henrietta Biggle, Michael, Pete Thelman
Genre: Friendship/Humor
Rating: K+
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 705
Type of Work: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Warnings: Insects, How They Met Fic
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Firkle hadn't always been an official goth, but he was already very hardcore.
AN: Okay, so, this has been sitting around and I finally wanted to finish it. It was originally going to be a five times fic, but I couldn't go through with it for personal reasons. I hope you guys enjoy this!
EDIT: This is mega old. Sorry. I have sixteen fics to post and seventeen that need edited. If you're someone that can edit for all kinds of fandoms, please message me. I really need some help.
Fandoms needed for betaing what I have so far: Saw, Insidious, Insidious/Saw Crossover, Fallout 3, Heathers, Heathers/Dismissed Crossover, South Park/TheVVitch Crossover, Assassin's Creed, Kick-Ass, Left 4 Dead 2, Dragon Age and Until Dawn.
If I Only Were A Goth ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
For the first time, Firkle was thankful.
His parents had shipped him off to his first day of school with his hair coiffed and squished into this weird shape, with his backpack filled with random crap and nothing he needed. Having been collecting rocks and bugs the day before instead of getting ready for school, he had yet to pack anything necessary.
"Lady?" He questioned, having carefully stepped over to a fourth, maybe fifth grader in a black dress and tugging on it. "Lady!"
If he was honest, the little kindergartner didn't know why he had chosen this kid over everyone else. Despite her scowl, despite the cigarette holder in her hand, the two boys glaring at him, despite all of this, he insisted on being seen until she finally turned to him.
"What do you want, kid?" She questioned, maybe a little too harsh; a few other kids skirted around them like that girl might knife them.
Henrietta'll put her cigarette out in your mouth and laugh. Some boy said. She'll skin you alive! I heard her say it! A girl whispered.
But those blue eyes remained on her, large as dinner plates and deep and stormy like the raging sea, and she finally sighed. Her lips slid into a more casual frown and she finally opened up her posture a bit more, rolling her eyes.
"Okay, kiddo, what do you want?" Those eyes only seemed to get bigger and he offered the smallest quirk of a smile.
"Paper, lady. No paper." With that, he pulled his backpack off with a slow, careful movement and the two boys leaned in by the time he was tugging the zipper open. A millipede longer than the kid's arm flopped uselessly, trying to get itself unfolded the second the bag was opened. Several flying insects escaped like their lives depended on it, and the boy dug his hand into the infested fabric, pulling out a black and red bug that looked rather angry. "Pets." He offered, his voice soft and fond, even as the insect looked like it might bite him.
If nothing else, Michael seemed impressed. That might have been due to watching a couple newly released bees chasing a couple kids with allergies down the hall. The millipede had found its way into the girls' bathroom, and there was screaming and pathetic squeals coming from there. Pete was pretty sure he saw a brown and white moth flying into a teacher's hair. Panic had ensued from this kid simply opening up his backpack.
Henrietta, Pete and Michael shared a long look between them, before nodding in sync with each other and turning back to the kid.
"What's your name?" Michael questioned, tilting his head just slightly.
"Georgie." The kid replied, voice blase and eyebrow raising.
"You want to hang out with us?" The elder goth questioned, trying to look disinterested.
"I guess." Shrugging, Georgie stepped a little closer, "Do I need paper?"
"No, kid." Henrietta rolled her eyes, snorting slightly, "Just come with us. We hang out behind the school."
"Okay."
"This isn't a decision to be made lightly," Pete began, holding out his hands as if to say 'stop', "You have to be goth. You've proven you have what it takes."
"But," Michael continued, "You have to hate conformists. Can you do this?"
"Yes." He didn't really know what that meant, exactly, but he'd figure it out. "I want to join."
"Works for me." Pete shrugged, looking up at Michael, who sighed through his nose.
"Guess you're one of us, kid. We'll teach you what it means to be goth." He paused, "Georgie's not really a goth name, though."
Henrietta stared long and hard at their new pet project, pursing her lips as she took a drag from her cigarette.
"Firkle." She finally stated, "It sounds good to me."
"He kinda looks like a Firkle." Pete admitted, and two pairs of brown eyes flitted over to Michael.
"...What? I guess it works. It's not conformist, anyway." He huffed, shaking his head. With that, he wrapped his arm around Firkle's shoulders and lead him through the hall, his bug-filled bag dragging behind them. Today was going to be fun.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: