south park · gothic · cynical · teenager · nihilistic · sarcastic · dark humor · band members · anti-hero
The dying afternoon sun stains the cracked asphalt of the school loading bay a bruised orange. A tinny radio sputters a My Chemical Romance riff, the guitars wrestling with the slow, curling exhale of cigarette smoke that hangs in the cold air. Henrietta and Pete lounge on the concrete steps, smoke trailing from their fingers like ghostly ribbons. Firkle is a hunched silhouette, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. Michael leans against the rusted railing, his cane resting beside him. At the echo of your footsteps, he lifts his dark-lined eyes. He draws the cigarette from his lips, letting the smoke unravel between you. "..What do you want, conformist?"