::I Want You! To Spread Propaganda – Playacting::

"Hey, uh... it's kinda full everywhere else- can I sit with you?"

Rumors about the new kid had been zinging around all day- that he used to go to the same school as Dee back in the day, that he had moved here just to see him again, that he had a crush on Dee, that he was actively stalking Dee, that he was actually a much older kid who had been held back multiple times and had some sort of growth disorder- any new kid was liable to have a number of rumors going around on the first day, but Butters could attest that this was somewhat more than the norm. Usually it was just one really bad rumor that gained too much traction in the first week or so, and how any new kid dealt with that rumor sorta helped them find their niche for the rest of the year... assuming they stayed.

A lot of new kids didn't.

That said, he didn't want Steve to sit next to him. Both Dee and Kenny had texted him, warning Butters that Steve was bad news and the stay away from him if possible. If the rumors hadn't painted him in a bad enough light, texts from two of his close buddies was a fast way for him to decide which side he was on.

"Uh, well, I'd prefer if you didn-"

"Thanks."

The new boy's tone suddenly changed, going from the nervous diction of a fish out of water to that of an entirely certain adult who had already decided the answer before he'd asked the question. He plopped down, his girth effectively blocking the seat from the view of other kids on the bus, and the shifting of his backpack to his lap made that block even more effective. All of the sudden, Butters felt rather... walled in.

He didn't like this.

"H-Hey there, feller, I said no, I would really-"

Steve's head quickly turned inwards to glare at him. Butters could suddenly why kids thought this guy was older than them; he got the same authoritative look his dad tended to get when he was sore. The sort that made it hard to continue speaking, his tongue feeling as if it briefly twisted itself into a knot.

"I-I mean... uh..."

C'mon, buddy, stand up for yourself. He's invading your space!

"I really would rather you... uh... sat somewhere else." He mumbled, looking down and shrinking back against the window.

"And why's that?" He asked, as if genuinely surprised, but his eyebrows didn't rise up. No, that glare remained, laser-locked, bearing down upon Butters as he sat like a lump between him and the rest of the bus. The idling engine got louder as wheels began to roll, and the scene of South Park in autumn began to scroll by the windows. "You don't know anything about me."

"W-well, that's not entirely true, I don't think. See, my buddies don't think you're that great, an' I trust 'em, so... uh..." So buzz off is what he wanted to say, but the bus was already in motion. He wouldn't make another kid break the rules just because he was uncomfortable. "I don't think I should talk to you." He finally surmised, squishing himself more against the wall and turning his gaze outside.

"So... you're prejudging a new kid based on what your friends say? Isn't that kinda... cruel to me? Not giving me a chance?"

I guess so, but you give me the willies.

"M-Maybe." He admitted, disliking the feeling that took hold. He always tried to do the right thing with the information he had... but everything was second hand. Wasn't there something about not just going along with stuff because all of his friends believed something? Oh, wait, that was for drugs and peer pressure. "But I figure if all my buddies think you're a no-good-nick, they must think that for a reason. Heidi said that Bebe said that Kenny that said you're stalking Dee, that you have been since you were little kids, and that you got your family to move here just to be close to him, and that's just... just... creepy! And I don't wanna talk to creepy kids!"

Steve didn't respond right away. Butters looked back to him to find some genuine surprise on his face, blinking a few times as he murmured. "Well, that explains why no one would talk to me today... Stalking, huh? That's a pretty serious charge..."

He wasn't denying it, which made Butters more nervous than he already was.

"W-well?" He pressed.

"Well what?" Steve questioned.

"Is it true? Were you... are you stalking Dee? Eric said you wouldn't stop askin' him questions about Dee, and you were creepin' around their lunch table, and-"

"Okay, okay, you got me, kid!" Steve suddenly exclaimed. His tone had changed gears, suddenly; the authority flowed out of it to expose something. "I... I just... really miss him, that's all. He's a good guy. We used to be really close friends, and then his family moved without a word."

Did he sound... hurt? Butters peered closer at this girthy new kid, at his face as it twisted it apparent regret and anguish.

"I donno if that counts as stalking, I'm just... really worried about him. I wanted to know he was still doing okay. Maybe that's stupid, but... I'm here 'cause I care."

"But he's scared of you." Butters pointed out, unwilling to move past a certain point. Sympathy brought him a few inches away from the window, but it didn't change the fact that Butters had been at Bebe's house, and he'd seen Dee choose to hide from this guy rather than confront him. That wasn't the way Dee usually did things. "Even if you miss him a whole, whole lot, it don't matter none if he don't wanna see you, now does it? You've just gotta respect his boundaries, and that means you can't be houndin' all his friends or followin' him places. That's just not nice, see?"

Steve listened, thoughtfully nodding as Butters spoke, though he still appeared quite upset. It was a hard truth whenever somebody cared that much about somebody else, particularly when that somebody else didn't wanna see 'em.

"... I guess moving just to be closer to him was kinda... out there, wasn't it?" Steve admitted before bemoaning his plight. "But I didn't know I chased him away before! He didn't tell me!"

"Ah, well, Dee's all secretive like that."

"Jeez, I feel terrible now." Steve marveled, leaning back in the bus seat and gazing up towards the roof of the vehicle. "I feel like I need to apologize to him... but he doesn't want to see me. Maybe... maybe I could write him a letter?"

"Hey, now, that's a great idea!" Butters encouraged, feeling as if he were being helpful to both parties. Dee would get his stalker problem solved, and this guy would be able to settle things a bit in his own mind. "Get some closure for it all."

"Augh, but I have no idea what to say..." Steve muttered, lips pressing together before looking over to Butters again. "... you know Dee, right? Maybe you could... help me word it right? Maybe even deliver the letter when its done?"

"M-Me?" Butters quested. It was one thing to give a supposed stalker an idea, but to help him make contact? "Well... I suppose, but you gotta promise that once it's done, you're never gonna bother Dee again. I'm not gonna help you get close to him when he doesn't want that, you got that?"

"Of course!" Steve agreed heartily. "This is about closure, I'm not trying to start something, I'm trying to end it."

Steve smiled. Butters smiled back on habit, but... there was still a vibe he was getting that made it somewhat difficult to do so genuinely.

How bad can it be? I'm just trying to help.

Kenny had a bad feeling about this.

He'd gotten a text from Butters asking to meet up near the children's park, on the basketball court. It was after dark, a few street laps having kicked on and another one on the corner flickering in and out of life every few minutes. This didn't seem like the kind of place Butters would ask to meet, and the text hadn't seemed like one Butters would send. It had been too short, too straight to the point; Butters tended to explain his invitations, what he wanted to do, why he was asking at this specific time and not earlier. Kenny's first assumption was that Butters was dipping into the Professor Chaos persona again, playing some kind of prank... in such event, Kenny currently had his backpack with him with the Mysterion costume inside. The public restrooms just off the court would be a fine place to change if necessary.

The suspicion, once he arrived and no one was apparently there, was that Butters was in trouble. It crept up his spine, one vertebra at a time, on the spindly legs of a spider that made his skin prickle and dance, turning in slow circles as he began to scan the area around him. One hand holding onto the strap of his backpack, the other reached into his pocket for his phone. Shoulders tensed as he felt he was being watched, rather intensely so. He could not see them, but he was certain there were eyes on him.

Text someone? He was pretty fast, but what if he got interrupted? It wouldn't send. Was he being paranoid? Doesn't matter. Paranoid is good sometimes. Better to send a false alarm than suffer needlessly. Call someone, he decided. At least if someone burst from the shadows and whacked him in the back of the head, a connection would still go somewhere, even if that somewhere was a voicemail box.

Wendy was on his speed-dial.

The line rang once, twice, -click-

"Hey Kenny, what's up?"

The spiders danced upon the back of his neck, hairs standing up on end- but hearing Wendy's voice brought a warm flood of relief over his head. Tugging down his muffler a little, he responded. "I got a text from Butters to meet him at the playground, but he didn't show... have you heard anything?"

"Butters?" Wendy's voice tightened. "His parents were just here; Butters didn't come home for dinner, and they're getting the search party together. Text him back, ask him where he is!"

"... I'm not sure it was him who sent it." He answered, lowering his voice. The creeping feeling he'd been getting had just been confirmed. "Tell Dee, gotta go."

"Kenny, wait-"

No time, sorry.

Kenny bolted for the public restrooms as he clicked the connection off. He'd heard it, just as Wendy was telling him about the fact that Butters was missing- movement off to one side, just inside the fence. He didn't hesitate, or stop to look who it was who might be lurking in the dark, but rather bounded away for the nearest building that would offer a moment's cover for some kind of misdirection.

Once he broke line-of-sight, it was time for a wardrobe change.

Wendy felt as if she were in shock. She'd been kept in the loop about recent developments; the fact that 'Steve' was likely an agent from the government, sent to try and ensure that Dee did as she was told... but this kind of escalation? There were still a few more days before the end of the month! Apparently it wasn't good enough just to watch Dee until the deadline, this guy was out to be an over-achiever and force capitulation. Butters was missing, it sounded like Kenny had just found some trouble... which meant that government asshole had been paying attention to who Dee's friends were.

I haven't been hanging out with Dee since that guy arrived- unless someone said something, I'm probably not on that list. But Stan and Kyle are- I need to warn them that they might be in danger.

Several texts were sent out in quick succession; first to Dee to apprise her of the situation, and then to Stan and Kyle to let them know that some shit was going down, and not to respond to any odd texts asking them to leave their homes and meet anyone anywhere. Just as she finished sending those off, she got a response from Dee.

[Received, 6:21] Shit

[Received, 6:21] On my way to Kenny's last known location, any chance you can figure out where Butters is?

That was a question; Butters probably didn't have any hardcore security on his phone, but it would all depend if he'd ever used any location services on the device on whether or not Wendy could find out where the hell it was... and even if she found out where his phone was, there was no guarantee the boy was with it.

[Sent, 6:22] I'm on it, but no promises.

[Sent, 6:23] I'll open our usual communication channel in a minute, bring your headset. Will add Kenny once we've made contact.

It felt like an emergency deployment of the team, and it left Wendy so excited she couldn't remain seated in her computer chair. No, she had to get up, pacing the space between her bed and her window in her room as she anxiously thumbed through other texts she'd gotten back. Kyle and Stan both confirmed that they were okay, at home, and wouldn't leave- though they both wanted to know what the hell was going on. Kyle had even put it together enough to ask if this was about Butters going missing. Her responses remained vague for now, confirming that yes, this had something to do with Butters, but giving nothing more than a reminder to stay safe. She'd tell them more when she knew more.

Mission control. I've got this. She told herself. That was her job when she worked with Mysterion and Buttlord, carrying the mental of Call Girl far longer than she'd ever expected to hold onto it. She even still had a costume, though it had been a long while since she'd had to suit up herself and join her friends in the field. Tonight was shaping up to be like most of their jobs in the way that she wouldn't have to leave her room, providing communications and information support.

That old thing is probably out of style. I wonder if I could get Bebe to design something new without tipping her off that I'm still playing hero after all these years...?

The abnormal thing about all of this was how rushed it was- panic was a hard thing to contend with, breeding so much raw energy that Wendy found it difficult to hold still. Operations involving government agents were carefully planned traps that Dee and Kenny set after a week or more of preparation. This time, the trouble had come to them, pulled the trigger and begot whatever it was to come. It was a different feeling, one rooted far more in fear than it was in confidence.

I've got this, Wendy told herself again as she got another response from Dee.

[Received, 6:25] Headset on, ready when you are

It was as if steady hands had suddenly gripped her by the shoulders, and Wendy found herself stilling. Preamble gave way to action, and she drew in a deep breath that stretched her lungs before driving it out. The jitters went with it, and she returned to her computer desk with a sense of, if not calm... dutiful certainty. She had a job to do. It was one of the hardest ones on the team; to resist the urge to run out into the streets, resist the frightened parts of her brain that demanded primal action... and instead use her skills to much greater capacity by way of her computer.

In a desk drawer was her own Bluetooth earpiece, which his slipped on before opening the connection.

"Let's do this."

::The Author's Corner::

HERE WE GO!

After a great deal of preparation, we finally get to start in on some scenes that have been occupying my brain basically since I got started on this installment of the story.

ONWARDS!

-Buttlord