Hi peoples! This is my first actual South Park fic, so please me nice! There'll be Dip, Style, Bunny, and Creek, but, sorry none right away, I guess this is the kind of prolouge, but either way, I'll add the next chapter tomorrow or the day after, depending if school lets me. Enjoy! ^^
Fifteen and a beautifully lean young man, Phillip "Pip" Pirrup nervously trudged down the back roads of South Park. The legs of his old, black skinny jeans made small noises as they quickly rubbed together, hoping to get trough the day quickly without another incident. His plain black converses slapped against the pavement with each scared step he took, jumping at each movement, picking up the pace and shifting nervously every time he was forced to stop by a passing car. Long fingers fidgeted with the dark red fabric of his sweater, playing anxiously with the fraying ends of the sleeves. As his light azure eyes shifted worriedly, he clutched the strap of his worn, tan shoulder bag tightly, hoping to make himself as small as possible, to blend into the scenery.
They could be anywhere. Those wretched boys who's horrid antics marred his memory, ruining his childhood and nearly killing him upon more than one occasion. And now that the dreaded first day of being a sophomore back in South Park was here, all of his previous antagonists would return with a vengeance like no other. Spit wads, wet-willies, swirllies, the countless taunts and jabs at his nationality and not to mention the endless beatings. He shivered as the memories played again in his mind, not helping his hesitating feet as they came to crossroads where the back roads ended and there was a long straight away to the high school. The building looked like every other in South Park; large, boxy and painted a hideous shade of purple. He saw a few people streaming in and out of the doors, and waiting in front for the day to begin, high schoolers and teachers alike. There would be so many people. He gulped hard as the memories grew stronger and took a step back behind the building he was currently standing behind. He'd walked the path many times, memorizing every nook and cranny, every dark corner, every hiding place, for an easy escape when the days were too rough. He'd have a way out if he really needed it.
His accent was still slightly present, but as he mumbled to his dark shoes, it was a lot easier to hear, "Oh, come now feet, we can't be late for the first day of school!"
Lifting his head and pushing out his small chest with a deep breath, he forced his shoes to move out of the shadows that protected his form. Wincing like the sun was harming his ivory skin, he covered his eyes to protect them from the glare reflecting off the fresh blanket of snow. Releasing his pent up oxygen, he reluctantly drug his feet towards the gray doors that hid the horrors of teenage drama.
The hallways were empty, his footsteps echoing off the plain white walls. Seeing as he was at least half an hour early, it didn't surprise the blonde, neither did the hideous color scheme. All of the doors were gray, except for the ones that lead to the bathrooms(pink for girls, and blue for the guys), the lockers were a gross shade of mustard and the occasional spray painted saying on the walls such as "Go South Park Bulls!" or "South Park Spirit!" in a disturbingly brown pigment of green.
A heavy sigh escaped his pink lips and he pulled off his brown paperboy hat to run a thin hand through his smooth, shoulder length, blonde locks. He let his tired feet carry him through the unfamiliar hallways, hoping to find his way to the office, as his head fell back in exhaustion. Sleep had been evading him for the past week, when he was first told the 'greatnews' and would probably continue to do so for the remainder of the school year. His blue eyes watched the upside down signs above the doors, watching carefully for the bold words 'OFFICE' in that hideous green. Freezing mid-step as it passed overhead, he slowly turned on his heel, successfully turning around without falling. Securing his hat back on his yellow tresses, he wrapped his elegant fingers around the knob and had to give it a good pull in order to open it. He raised a hand in greeting to the middle aged white woman sitting at the desk in front of him, saying pleasantly, "Hello ma'am, my name's Phillip Pirrup, I've come to claim my-"
His words were cut short when Mrs. Lily, according to her desk tag, said in a gruff voice, "Schedule, yeah, yeah, I know all about you Frenchie. Just take the stupid thing and leave me alone." She shoved the paper off her desk without bothering to try and hand it to him and turned to the outdated computer screen in front of her and continued to pretend she was working on something.
Pip bent to pick up the strip of paper and strode out of the room, stopping at the door to say politely, "Thank you, ma'am."
He kept a smile secure on his face until the door shut with a loud thtch, leaning against the solid surface, he ran a tired hand over his forehead. He pulled it across his face until it rested upon his pointed chin, holding it there as if he were thinking. His body was aching and he was at his wits end as far as kindness went, how was he supposed to react to bullies and gossipers? He definitely couldn't talk back to them, let alone fight back.
His eyes drifted to the rumpled paper in his hands. He scowled, Phillip had been crossed out with a black pen and 'Pip' was written above it. First period… home room with Mr. Garrison… again? When did class start? Following the little line across the paper to the actual times he saw the numbers 7:50 pop out at him. Shit. His head quickly spun to the digital clock that blinked just above his head: 7:35. They'd be in in a matter of minutes. Fuck, fuck, double fuck. With his long legs pumping, he rushed to the nearest hallway with classrooms and saw the numbers 143 on the door closet to him. Scanning the page quickly he saw classroom 376. Damnit!
Turning on his heel, he sped down the hallway to his left and only glanced at the doors he passed until he came to a hallway with the door 372 at the beginning. He heaved a sigh of relief and placed a skinny hand over his pounding heart, glancing at his old, dialog wrist watch. 7:39. Just in time. Dropping his hand to rest on the side of the wall, he let it drag behind him as he took a happy step towards the classrooms.
"Hey, Frenchie. Good to see you back."
The voice caused him to pause mid-step, almost comically, and turn around nervously. Three large teenage boys stood before him, each covered in acne, sweat and chin bristle, sporting cocky grins. The one who had spoken had his black hair in a buzz cut, revealing his large ears that stuck out on the sides of his wide head. A smaller boy to his left had long, light brown hair, pulled into a greasy ponytail on the back of his slim head. The last boy, and the shortest, had hair almost the same color as the second, only it wasn't long enough to tie back, so he let the stringy strands hang down, almost completely covering his eyes.
Smiling as kindly as his over worked mind would let him, he shyly replied, "Well, h-hello, gents! It's quite nice to see you as w-well!"
Her shapely legs were clad in hip hugging boot cut jeans, emphasizing her hour glass figure that wore a thick, dark green long sleeve shirt made of soft fabric. The black flats the teenage girl wore padded hard against the cracked concrete, luckily plowed free of snow earlier in the morning. The medium sized shoulder bag that hung precariously on her side swung back and worth with her rushed steps, her long braided pigtails swaying as well. Hands clutched into balls, she broke into a run when the high school came into sight. She glanced at the small digital watch on her wrist and startled several other students when she loudly announced, "Fuck, fuck, FUUUCK! I was supposed to be early! God damn it!"
Pushing past others waiting in front of the school door, quickly apologizing to the shocked crowd from the doorway, she slammed it closed behind her. Looking to her watch again, she heaved a sigh of relief, only 7:38, there was still a couple minutes to get to the office before the loud stream of hormones and drama came poring through the doors. She looked left then right, not knowing which way to go, she let a random number pop into her forever wandering mind. ….37.
"Left it is." She mumbled to herself before adding, "What a hideous color scheme, it looks like baby shit was used to write the signs, for God's sake."
She looked to the floor and grimaced at the checkered yellow and white tiles. Horrible, horrible taste. Deciding she liked the simple white tiles better, she criss-crossed across the room, jumping from one tile to another, and let a random tune pass her lips in the form of a hum. The burnet had reached a hallway with the sign 384 at the beginning when she heard a noise coming from the next hallway. It sounded like a person. Loud, rude jeers of encouragement and slightly quieter sounds of pain.
"Mother fucker." Maternal instincts kicking into over-drive, she stormed down to the hallway and turned sharply. Not to her surprise, and much to her displeasure, she saw several teenage boys huddled around a feeble looking figure on the ground, kicking and punching at the child's small frame. She couldn't stand it. Such arrogant assholes picking on someone smaller than them just to get a high because their sex lives were in the shitter.
Stamping her foot loudly, they paused in their beating to turn and listen to her say, "Yo, ass wipes, what the fuck are you doing!"
The largest boy with his black hair cut short stepped forward, eyeing her like a piece of meat. he attempted a flirtatious smile, only earning a disgusted one in return, but that did not deter him in the slightest as he said, "Hey babe. Haven't seen you around here before."
Placing an impatient hand on her hip as he drew nearer, clearly showing himself to be over a head taller, she looked up to him with absolute rage and shoved her middle finger in his face, shouting, "Answer the question , ya fuckin' tard!"
His expression fell and he frowned at her, clearly disappointed by her reaction. Stepping a bit closer, he tugged lightly on a pigtail, "Givin' this French faggot a lesson, wanna watch?"
She showed a look of such anger and hatred and disgust that he took a startled step backwards, but she took a menacing one towards him as words came through her gritted teeth, "What kind of selfish, arrogant asshole could ever do such a thing! Or stand around and let it happen!" She stabbed a long finger into his jacket. "You fucking stupid ass, mother fucking PRICKS have no right to do such a DISGUSTING thing to another person!" She jabbed a finger at his firm chest again and she stepped forward further. "If I EVER see you doing something like this again, so help me God, I will hunt you down, you hear me, ya little fucker. I don't want to ever see this again. EVER!"
His face contorted with anger but she stood her ground. Grabbing her smooth hand with his rough one, he yanked it down and twisted it at an odd angle, but she kept her face straight and gave a glare to scare fucking Saddam Hussein. The two still shadowing the curled figure on the ground let out a couple of encouraging obscenities. He leaned down closer and growled out, "What did you say, bitch?"
Hardening her stare, she said slowly like she were talking to a child, only fiercer, "I saaaaid, knock. It. The. Fuck. Off!" Her free hand came up quickly and before he could react, had a hold of his large ear. Letting go of her arm in surprise as long nails dug into his scalp, the now freed hand came up to grab the back of his head and smash his already crooked nose into her knee. Blood splattered her new jeans and the tile floor, but she still slammed her foot into his stomach, sending him flat on his ass. Stalking over, she stood above him and said, "I fucking. HATE. Bully's!" she brought her foot hard down on the boys chest, causing him to cough violently. Slamming it down on him again, stomach this time, she yelled loudly, "I hate God damn pricks like you!"
She stared for a second at the groaning boy on the ground, feeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Reminded of the other boys when she heard one whisper, "Shit man, we gotta get outa here!" she turned fast enough to scare them into a frozen pose. Moving quickly, she frightened them into the wall. Both were almost a head high then her, but they cowered under her glare. Pointing a menacing finger at both of them, she stared at them like misbehaving children. She heard the bell ring to open the doors and grabbed both by the ears. Throwing them into the main hallway as people could be heard flooding in, she turned, walked past the half-conscious jock still on the floor, giving it a firm kick in the side, and to the small frame still curled up against the wall.
Seeing their body tense when her hard steps approached, she dropped down on her knees and placed a gentle hand on their shoulder. Gently pulling the persons head onto her lap so she could see their face, she was stuck between a feminine boy or a beautiful girl. Deciding it didn't matter, she pulled the bruised frame further up so she could cradle them for a moment to say, "Don't worry honey, I'm just here to help."
Reaching down and picking up the tattered hat the lay on the ground, she placed it gently on her own head, and slowly turned to put their battered body on her back. She felt their ragged breaths against her neck, hair tickling her cheek as they leaned into the warmth of her back. She smiled slightly at the action but it quickly vanished when she saw all of the people gathered at the end of the hallway, watching her like some kind of freak. She glared at them and their glances quickly turned away, like they weren't waiting to go down the hallway to get to class. People were mumbling and most likely saying something offensive, but that didn't matter at the moment. Standing swiftly, she stepped into the buzzing crowd with a "What are you lookin' at?" and the person's eyes flicked open. Their voice was muffled against her hair but she heard them clearly enough to distinguish that it was a boy and he had said, "W-who are y-you…?"
Laughing softly, if just to brighten the situation a bit, she answered, "Just call me Megan."
He could feel the stares against the sore muscles of his back, not only judging him, but this 'Megan' person that was carrying him. Why had she helped him? Did she know of his reputation? Or how often that kind of thing happened? Pip sighed out slowly through his mouth, moving hairs so that his chapped lips were met with skin, but he was too tired to care. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he was greeted by the scent of lavender and vanilla, a pleasantly soothing smell. He buried his face deeper in the masses of hair he had found himself in, welcoming the calming feeling that accompanied it. Her body swayed methodically, a smooth movement every step she took. The maneuver rocking him back and forth softly, lulling his mind into a blissful state of white noise.
I know you might be thinking "What the hell dude! What is she doing to Pip and where's Damien! DX" but I just want to inform you that Megan is not hitting on Pip! She's the motherly mentor kinda person, and seeing as she was meant to be me(cuz I thought it'd be fun), she'll prolly just get another OC person to make out with or something.
Please reveiw! They're very much appreciated! ^^