Tweek
Tweek was getting really sick of this green goo that kept showing up everywhere.
"No, no, I'm telling you that I need more men!"
I mean, sure, he'd only seen it last night for the first time, but when it came to something like this, once was definitely enough.
"That might be, but-"
The smell was horrid, and it made Tweek feel physically ill. It smelled like torture and pain, like the total inability to get away, and the helpless choking terror that Craig wasn't going to wake up again. Tweek hated it. And yet here it was, once again.
"Kyle has too many people for us to deal with him without more help, and I will not lose this fight. So don't tell me, that I don't need more help, Token." Cartman exclaimed, slamming his staff against the ground.
Of course, this time it was accompanied by shrapnel from the flying saucer, which really had no business showing up here when Tweek hadn't been prepared for it. Craig, who was standing next to him with his arms crossed and his chullo pulled low over his forehead, didn't seem to care, but Tweek very much did. Maybe the Noirette was already over it, but every time the shorter boy looked up at him, he saw the lump left behind by his own shoddy bandage job and cringed internally.
"I'm not saying you don't need more help," Token attempted to argue, crossing his arms. "I'm just saying that you have more important things to be worrying about." Gesturing at the greenish glowing hunk of shrapnel that had torn through half of Cartman's castle, the boy continued, "Your castle is on fire Grand Wizard, can we focus on the Stick later maybe?"
He had a point, the castle was definitely smoldering and glowing overall with a horrible, repulsive light. Why won't the stop arguing? Jesus, I've had to deal with too much over these past few days, I can't take any more of this! Oh, but when had that mattered to Cartman?
"But Kyle stole it and he won't even admit it!" Cartman exclaimed, much like a pouty child. "He's a dirty Jew, and that's clearly more important! Come on Token, you should agree, the Jews are terrible people. I mean," he narrowed his eyes and admitted, "Well, you're too black to be Palestinian, but the Jews have probably screwed over the Africans at some point."
At which point Token lost his patience, "Okay, so first off-"
"OH JESUS NO!" Tweek finally burst out, reaching a hand up and yanking on his hair as his face twisted grotesquely. Instantly, Craig's shoulder bumped up against his and the look the Noirette gave him said very clearly, they can't get you anymore. They're gone.
So he does care, Tweek thought distantly, and the clenching fist around his organs loosened somewhat.
"Um, Grand Wizard, where are we supposed to find more people," Scott Malkinson interrupted nervously, which in Tweek's mind was a wonderful thing. "I mean, haven't we sort of pulled everyone who's allowed to play into the game already? The only people who aren't playing are the trekkies, right?"
Princess Kenny, who was lounging across the bench that someone had pulled over, picked his head up from its place in Butters' lap and called, "Don't be silly Scott, there arealways more factions and people to bring into the game~" Laying back down, closing his eyes, Kenny continued, "For instance, the Goth Kids are technically registered as a separate faction, yes? And what about the girls? Perhaps they can help us lay waste to the entire Elven Base."
At the idea of Bebe and Craig fighting together, Tweek couldn't help but let out a squeak. Even though the matter felt resolved, at least between Craig and him, he still didn't know what was going on with Bebe and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. "Ngh- C-can we just get the goths?" he asked, shivering. "I mean, do we r-really need to drag the girls into this?"
Opening one eye and giving Tweek a mischiveous look that made the blond jump back with a start, Kenny softly purred, "But Tweekers, the girls are far more powerful than The Goths ever could be, don't you know? Girls could take over the world if they could just stop worrying about whether they were wearing the same dress as each other."
Clearing his throat, Craig said, "Actually, I talked to Bebe over te- The Carrier Ravens, and the girls want no part of this one. They're still a little bit pissy that The Grand Wizard and the High Jew Elf spent lunch time arguing about the game."
Crossing his arms, Cartman muttered, "Well, Feldspar is right I guess. I don't want Wendy Testaburger anywhere near the Elves, because she's dating Stan again and she'll be a dirty traitor if we give her the chance." At the words dirty traitor Kenny looked at Craig, and the Noirette flipped him off. Unsure what that was supposed to mean, Tweek furrowed his brows and let out a soft growl, which prompted Craig to bump up against him again.
"W-well gentlemen, I don't mean t'interupt or nothin', but if we're gonna get th' goths t'play, then someone's gonna have t'go get them!" Butters piped up. He'd been silent up until that moment, but Tweek didn't blame him. He would be scared speachless if Kenny had decided to rest his head in his lap too. "Do they even play? I mean, I've never seen'em around, s-so what if they don't really wanna play?"
"They took the time to register," Token pointed out, having already gotten over Cartman's comments. Honestly though, the day Token actually got upset about something Cartman said would be the day that Tweek stopped needing coffee. "They might not be currently active, but they're part of the game, and if we're going to go to the trouble of finding more help, then the Goths would be a suitable choice."
"Yep," Craig agreed, popping his 'p' as per the usual. It made Tweek giggle, which in turn made Cartman mutter something under his breath and roll his eyes.
Whatever he'd said, Kenny followed it up with, "Well, you're not wrong."
"So who's gonna go get them?" Scott asked, clearly the only one there that actually was paying attention to the proceedings. "Cause someone needs to tell them, otherwise we're never going to get anywhere. And I have to put the castle out still!"
"I volunteer Tweeky and Fucker as tribute!" Kenny announced, raising up a delicately gloved hand. "After all, Feldspar's practically already gone through his goth phase, and Tweekers drinks enough coffee to be one of them, they'll fit right in."
"Hmm, that actually makes sense," Cartman admitted, nodding along with Kenny's words. "Lady McCormick, you might be right. If anyone should go after the Goths, its them." Pulling something from his robes, Cartman shuffled over to Tweek and Craig and handed them a scroll. "Here, it's a more official summons, seeing as they might only listen to authority, which I have."
Raising an eyebrow, Craig took it before flatly saying, "How do you know the Elves took the Stick?"
"Oh my god," pressing a hand against his temple, Cartman said, "Because Feldspar-"
"Craig."
"Because Feldspar, the only dirty cheaters in this game are the Drow Elves, and Kyle, who is their leader, is a dirty Jew who's already pulled this trick on us before. He needs to learn that his actions have consequences!" Cartman glared at Craig, who stared right back at him, entirely unimpressed. Wow, I missed this, Tweek realized, even as the rest of his brain shrieked about how Craig was going to get himself killed. I missed him standing up for himself. It's… nice.
"Look, just go," Token said. "We're going to figure this out one way or another, so why not rush into it." Shaking his head and turning around, he continued, "I mean, it's not like waiting and thinking things through would be the intelligent decision."
Scott raised his hand tentatively. "Um, so can we do something about the castle now?"
))))-((((
"I don't th-think they did it."
Tweek shivered as Craig looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. Admittedly it had been a total non-sequitur -they'd been talking about Red Racer up until a minute before- but it had been brewing in the back of his mind, and he hadn't been able to stop himself from letting it out. Of course, now that Craig was staring at him, Tweek realized how crazy he sounded.
"OH JESUS I MEANT THE ELVES!" Fumbling at his belt for his small thermos, Tweek gulped down half the container of espresso as Craig hummed softly, thinking over what he'd said. He probably thinks I sound stupid. But it's Craig, he doesn't usually think I sound stupid. Oh god, I think I sound stupid! What if-
"Yeah, I don't think they did either," Craig finally admitted. He was fiddling with his phone while they walked, intent on something, not that Tweek knew what. Bebe, probably.But Craig was here with him, and Tweek managed to quell the remaining sparks of jealousy that flared up without too much trouble. Remembering Craig's arms around him the night before, Tweek had to admit that being jealous at this point would be a little stupid.
"Rrrr- Kyle's a lot of things man, b-but he's not stupid!" Picturing the angry redhead, Tweek shivered in apprehension and said, "He'd be more likely to break it than steal it at night!" Oh god, but if he breaks it, then what happens to the game? Shaking his head violently, Tweek muttered, "H-he would have done it better if it had been him. Only Cartman's s-stupid enough to try the same trick twice."
"I agree," Craig hummed evenly, tugging at his chullo as he did so. "Stan and Kyle are fucking idiots, but at least they're smarter than Cartman." Shrugging, he added, "Besides, they honestly didn't seem to have known what happened when Cartman talked to them at lunch."
"Th-they could have been lying!" Tweek squeaked, but he didn't mean it. Craig was right, the two Elves had been perfectly clueless, much more clueless than two people who were pretending to be clueless could have managed to be, and Tweek would know, he did clueless really really well. "But I d-don't think they were. They don't have the Stick."
"Nope," Craig agreed, his gaze steady as they continued walking. They were almost to school, the only place either of them knew to look for the Goth kids, but Tweek wasn't really paying attention. No, his mind was full of a million thoughts about the game, Cartman, Elves, and admittedly, Craig. Only one of those things was in any way a good thing.
"B-but then I don't get what's going on," Tweek muttered, scuffing his feet against the sidewalk as he walked. "I mean, who else would have stolen the Stick?" Ugh, this game is so stupid. What if Cartman still has it? Or what if Kenny stole it! That sounds like something he'd do. And Jesus, where's Clyde?! WHAT IF CLYDE STOLE IT?! Letting out a screach, Tweek smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand and was about to do it again before Craig caught his wrist and held it loosely, keeping him from continuing his attempt to knock the thoughts from his head.
"I'm not sure it matters anymore," Craig said, his words slow, like he was choosing each one of them carefully. "I don't think the game is going to be around for much longer, eventually, Kyle and Cartman are going to tear eachother apart. And if they don't then everyone is going to get sick of their shit and leave them. Who has the Stick is irrelevant, all they care about is showing the other who's better." The Noirette squeezed Tweek's wrist slightly, and he he sucked in his cheeks, looking to the side darkly almost. "At least that's what I think."
"I h-hope you're right," Tweek said, shivering and squirming his hand a little till he managed to catch Craig's hand in his own. Tightening his hold on the taller boy's rough fingers, Tweek squeaked, "I'm -rrr- ready for this game to be over man!"
As he reached the gate that closed off the alley outside of school from the outside, Craig snorted and said, "Yep. Let's get this shit over with."
Pushing open the gate, Tweek kept ahold of Craig's hand as he crept into the alley. Hit in the face with a blast of familiar cigarette smoke, Tweek sneezed and shuddered as the music that the Goth kids always played got louder. I don't like them, they're terrifying. What if they try to kill us? What if I get cancer from the smoke and I die?! Do they sacrifice their victims? WHAT IF THEY SACRIFICE ME TO SATAN?!
Except Craig was with him, and with the Noirette around, Tweek felt like he could probably keep himself from getting sacrificed a bit better than he would have been able to do otherwise. Which is why he attempted for confidence as he walked around the large trash bin and faced the four familiar kids who were sitting there.
The Goth kids had hung out here for as long as Tweek could remember. There were four of them, and despite the fact that they were very obviously different, most of the time Tweek thought they all sort of looked exactly the same, just different heights and genders. Pete, Michael, Henrietta and Firkle were there names, as far as Tweek knew. They'd always been here, always smoking, always dressed head to toe black no matter the season. It was mildly terrifying, but then again, they'd never thrown anything at him, so Tweek supposed they weren't horrible.
None of them bothered to glance their way when they walked up to them, they only reacted after Craig had cleared his throat. When they looked up at the pair of them, Tweek tilted his head up and Craig, true to form, flipped them off.
"Oh, it's you," muttered Pete, flipping his hair out of his eyes before it promptly fell back across his face.
Pulling her long, delicate looking cigarette holder from her mouth with a netting covered hand, Henrietta looked Tweek and Craig up and down and drawled, "Um, what are you two doing back here?" It was amazing how preppy someone who hated the preps could sound. Oh god, why am I doing this, they're terrifying, they hate people like me!
From his seat on the steps, Michael blew out a cloud of smoke and said, "You both look like fucking conformists. What are you even wearing?" Tweek struggled not to reach his hands into his hair, but it was a close thing. Instead he clenched his fingers around Craig's hand and wished that they'd stop staring at them like that. There were few things more scary than a group of heavily painted people all giving you the same dead expression.
"I think it's supposed to be armor," Firkle supplied, his black hair falling into his small pale face. "But I don't know, I just work here."
Groaning, Michael said, "Beat it you two, I don't have the energy to deal with you right now."
Stepping forward before Tweek could scream, Craig flatly said, "Tough, because we have the energy to deal with you. So you're going to have to get used to it, because we're not just leaving."
"Uhh, who asked you for your opinion," Henrietta asked, looked up at Craig with her lips twisted into a disgusted line. "Cause I don't remember asking."
"We just won't talk to you," Pete told Craig flipping his hair out of his face once more in what Tweek knew was nothing but a vicious and endless cycle. "Leave us alone, we don't care."
"They might not listen, people can be unbelievably stupid," Firkle muttered, lifting his little cigarette to his mouth before taking a drag. The motion was mimicked by the other three, and as one, they let out streams of white, spicy smoke.
Oh god, why do we have to deal with them? "W-we aren't here because we want to be!" Tweek burst, shivering hard. "We're here because the Grand Wizard sent us!" At that, Michael looked up suspiciously and Craig hurriedly dug around under his cloak for the scroll, which he handed to Pete. Reading it, the boy passed it onto Henrietta, who frowned and finally handed it up to Michael.
"Join the Kingdom of Kupa Keep to battle the wicked Drow Elves," Michael read, his tone implying that this was the worse piece of poetry he'd ever read. "All recruits welcome." Rolling his eyes, the boy balled up the scroll and said, "Sorry Frodo, but we don't play dungeons and douchebags."
OH GOD MY NAME ISN'T FRODO! "GRR- IT'S NOT DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS!" Tweek screeched, glaring at the goth kids, who didn't react to his outburst at all. "W-we just need help, alright?!"
"Tweek, we don't want to play," Pete said, his brows knitting together. "So beat it."
"Aww come on, let's do it," Firkle said unexpectedly, surprising Tweek, who stumbled backwards, blinking at the boy. When the other Goth kids looked at him suspiciously, the first-grader said, "We never do anything, wallowing in the misery of the world is hard when we don't go anywhere."
"We went to that cafe that one time," Pete ventured, puffing on his cigarette and watching Firkle in concern, as if he'd grown a third eye. "That was going somewhere. We drank coffee. Why would you want to go anywhere with these conformists."
"We always drink coffee," Firkle reminded Pete.
"Look, we can't just do what they're saying, okay?" Michael snapped, tapping his foot against the pavement in annoyance. "They're nothing but conformists. Look at his hair." He gestured at Tweek, who twitched and let out a soft involuntary cry. I know it looks horrible, don't remind me! "And look at his cape!"
The moment the boy's words were aimed at Craig, Tweek growled. "Ngh- D-don't just talk about us like we're not there!" Gripping the handle of his club in an attempt to calm down, the boy ground out, "Jesus if you don't want to p-play then just say so! Rrr- I don't care! It's only Cartman th-that cares!" All four of the Goths stared at him, making Tweek shiver, but stand his ground regardless.
After a moment of silence, Henrietta admitted, "I mean, it might not be that bad. It's not like it can make me want to die anymore than I already do." Taking a drag, the girl said, "Maybe we should play so they'll leave us alone."
"Come on Michael, you might almost have fun," Firkle said, his eyes wide under all the eyeliner.
Huffing in irritation, the boy muttered, "Ugh, I need more coffee, this is too much for me to deal with right now. You conformists make me feel dirty."
"Actually, coffee sounds really good right now," Pete agreed, looking over at Michael. "I need more energy if I want to deal with these idiots."
Unexpectedly, Craig said, "If we get you coffee, will you play?" Looking up at the boy with a sound of surprise, Tweek found the boy intently studying the Goths with that unnervingly blank expression. Squeezing the boy's hand more tightly, only just remembering that he was still holding it, Tweek was rewarded with Craig's soft nudge as the boy bumped up against him comfortingly.
Taking a moment to communicate silently with the other Goths, Michael finally said, "We'll talk about it after we have coffee. I'm not making any promises, you guys are conformists, and I hate being around conformists almost as much as I hate the rest of humanity." Why would anyone hate everyone that much? Doesn't that take a lot of energy? But then, Craig hates everyone and he seems to do fine at it. I wouldn't be able to hate that many people at once, that's way too much pressure!
"Dude, we really don't care about your Emo shit," Craig bit out, looking duly unimpressed.
"Oh my god, we're not emos!" Henrietta snapped, as if this was a sore spot for her. "We're fucking Goths get it right, asswipe!"
"Yeah, Goths are cynical, Emos are just nihilistic," Pete agreed, flipping his hair out of his eyes.
"But I thought we were the nihilistic ones," Firkle said, his frown exaggerated by his makeup.
Pete turned around and furrowed his brows at the younger boy. "No, we're clearly the cynical ones because- Look, it doesn't matter."
"See, you're being nihilistic," Michael said matter o' factly.
"JESUS OKAY!" Tweek shrieked, shaking his head hard in an attempt to get the thoughts out of his head. "W-we'll get you your coffee!" Before he had to deal with any more conversation, Tweek ran down the alley, pulling Craig after him. You see, this is why I don't like them!
"God they piss me off," Craig muttered the moment they were a safe distance from the other kids. Tweek shivered, but didn't disagree. "I mean, I get it, the world sucks, but do we have to spend all day writing poetry and crying about it?" Huffing, the boy let go of Tweek's hand and instead pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. "I would have rather talked to the goddamn trekkies."
"They aren't th-that bad," Tweek found himself saying, gripping his belt in the absence of Craig's hand. Jerking horribly, he quickly amended, "I mean oh god th-they're horrible! B-but they never threw things at me when I used to sit out there for lunch -ghn- and they'd sometimes share their coffee when I ran out."
Craig was silent for a moment, and when Tweek whipped his head up, he found the boy staring at him, his brows drawn together. "People threw things at you." It wasn't so much a question as a statement. And yet in it, Tweek found a whole host of emotions that Craig was keeping carefully locked down just beneath the surface. I wish I could see what he's thinking.
But he couldn't so he just stared into those shockingly blue eyes and stammered, "I m-mean, yeah, all the time. Rrr- s-some sixth graders used to throw rocks at me when I was in second grade because they thought it was funny w-when I screamed. And jesus! Cartman's always thrown stuff at -grrr- me!" Shivering, he insisted, "It's not th-that big a deal, I mean, no one does it now."
"No one should have ever done that to you," Craig muttered, and then, just as Tweek might have predicted he would, the boy reached over and wrapped a protective arm around him, pulling him close to his side. "People are shit Tweek, and it fucking sucks."
"I'm over it now," Tweek mumbled, even as warmth spread through him.
"It pisses me off that you have to get over it," Craig mumbled, and though Tweek would never have accused Craig of being awkward, the boy sounded like he wasn't sure what to say. "I'm sorry I never stopped anyone when we were younger."
"You couldn't have -ghn- known," Tweek pointed out.
"I can still wish," Craig muttered.
Stopping, right outside of the coffee shop which they'd somehow reached much faster than should have been possible, Tweek looked at Craig and said, "I'm just glad you're my f-friend now." Nibbling at his nails before yanking his hand away from his mouth, the boy softly continued, "Before I knew you, everything was s-scary, but now stuff isn't that scary. And when you're around, even stuff like the alien ship doesn't seem th-that bad."
Once more, Tweek felt a few words attempt to crawl their way out of his mouth, but he couldn't have known what those three words were, so he swallowed them back down and simply watched Craig, watched as the boy's eyes softened and he reached out a hand towards Tweek's hair. The boy didn't really need to speak, because Tweek kind of justunderstood and he hoped that Craig did too.
Just as the boy's hand landed in his hair, there was the sound of a familiar someone clearing their throat. Spinning on his heels, Tweek suddenly realized that they were surrounded by boys in green. Elves. All of them had weapons drawn, and it only took one look at them to know that they were powerful. Jesus, what's going on?
Stepping into Tweek's line of sight, the owner of the laugh grinned, raising an eyebrow at Craig as he ran a hand through his golden curls. "Well well well, if it isn't the monster duo once again. You know, it's like every time I think that I've seen the last of you, you both pop up again~" Shaking his head, Chris Donnelly shrugged. "Hey, I'm not complaining, you two aren't completely intolerable."
"Oh, it's you again," Craig muttered, rolling his eyes even as his hands twiched towards his knives.
Chris let out another laugh. "So touchy." Shaking his head the boy continued, "While I'd love to just chat, I'm actually here for business. The Elf king has requested your presence Feldspar, and even though you're allowed to fight back, I'd suggest that coming quietly would be the best."
"Wait, wh-where are you taking him?" Tweek demanded, his hand tightening around the handle of his club. "Why are you taking Craig?!" Oh god, I can't have something like this happen again, the last time they took Craig, it was the girls and he ended up married, I can't handle this anymore!
"Look, Tweek, I'm going to be real here, I have no idea," Chris said, shrugging. "But Kyle's the king, and he told me to bring Craig to him. So that's what I'm going to do. You… well, you weren't included in that."
"Th-then you can't have him!" Lifting his club suddenly, Tweek readied himself for battle. "Craig d-doesn't have to go anywhere with you Elves! He's gonna stay right-"
"I'll go."
Wait, what? Staring at him in surprise, Tweek couldn't even begin to formulate a response as Craig continued, "I'll go with you assholes to wherever Kyle wants me, but in return, you leave Tweek out of it."
"Fair enough." Shrugging, Chris Donnelly said, "Trust me, we'll return you in one piece, probably."
"But-" Tweek tried to start, but Craig cut him off with a calm, even look. Those eyes said trust me and Tweek realized that despite everything, he honestly did.
"I'll be fine," Craig said.
"Now that we've said the tearful goodbyes-" Chris signaled to the other boys and one of them pulled out a bag which they threw over Craig's head. Glancing at Tweek, the curly blond boy said, "Look, just, don't make this awkward."
Before Tweek could ask what that meant, something heavy connected with the back of his head and everything went black.
A/N: Heyyyy, so I just wanted to say that there's a discord for this, where lots of pretty people congregate and gather. You can become one of them. Believe, cause I believe in you. Though I have no link it here, if you go to the Ao3 version of this story, you should be able to find the link in the first chapter.
I look forward to seeing you there ;)
