A glorious digging bastard.

Like I said. There are but a few things I cannot stand. Guard dogs. Idiots that follow in His supposed light. Don't make me add you to that list.

[anti-belief]

newkiing:

‘huh… that’s… that’s peachy, ‘ she realized the pun within her phrasing too little too late. instead of acknowledging it, she instead decided to take another awkward sip of her drink.

that was probably a topic that she shouldn’t tread again if she wanted to keep this conversation SOMEWHAT POSITIVE. she took a mental note and tucked it safely in the back of her mind for later use.

‘ do you ever get lonely here? ‘

“...oui, mademoiselle.”

A sudden burst of honesty from the normal subdued bartender; if only for a moment. The smile from Peach’s pun hadn’t left his face, but it was only slight.

“If only because without the patrons and the guests... it is very quiet. Le silence est assourdissant, parfois.”

“But it is something I have learnt to handle.”

[anti-belief]

“So. What sort of drinks do you like? I am trying to expand the selection that I have available, but my tastes are far-flung and electic. Neat vodka is nice; but not many in this town have a preference for it.”

“And absinthe - I am rarely able to find one that is not absolument dégoûtant - but when I do, it is but a treasure.”

{ @metro-tweek-tweak }

[anti-belief]

“Madam Dee, I again find myself wondering how you avoid the quagmire that is the breakdown in relationships between our... circles.”

He was, in simpler language, merely expressing amusement. Friendships and relationships in this town were like fireworks; short lived, explosive, and you didn’t want to be near one when it went off.

“Or perhaps I merely say that due to a lack of company.”

{ @girlxkingxsuperheroine }

[anti-belief]

“You must be Token.”

Harsh eyes cast over him, a curious gaze mixed with just a tinge of wariness. He had heard many stories from many a person; but Christophe was well aware that it was nearly impossible to build an idea of a person from this town.

You would get so many conflicting opinions and viewpoints (barring some specific circumstances) that the resulting individual would theoretically paradox themselves into oblivion.

“I will admit that the stories I have heard... paint a mixed picture. Although how much of that is due to the inherent mistrust in this town, I am unsure.”

With that out of the way, he held out a calloused hand, the skin rough and firm - unsurprising anyone who even knew him by reputation.

“I am Christophe. It is.. a pleasure.”

{ @token8lack }

[anti-belief]

“How, Monsieur Butters, do you manage to retain your impeccably optimistic outlook upon this accursed existence when you live... here.”

He was, naturally, referring to South Park - home of the wacky, weird, unamusing and frankly frightening town.

“It... is refreshing, in a way, but I cannot help but wonder.”

He moved a hand to his chin, cigarette held in his lips, softly moving his hand from his chin moments after to remove it. “Most have some way to cope. How about you?”

{ @innocent-chaos }

[anti-belief]

Ladies, gentlemen, robots and anything and everything you wish to be;

I have a lot of new followers. Enough that I can’t really parse who needs a thread or not!

So - I figured I’d take the lazy easy option and make a starter call.

You know the drill! Like this... or even reblog it; just make me aware somehow. 

[anti-belief]

despairingcurse:

“Christophe.” He didn’t look like someone that could do half of what the rumors said. Then again, he supposed, he should have learned better than to assume like that. Particularly with someone he’d never seen more than a passing glimpse of, at best.

Accepting the lighter. he let his eyes flicker up and down, searching for something. Some clue as to what exactly made this guy the kind of thing childhood rumors and stories came from. Sure, some strange things happened before, but what were the odds of all of those stories being true?

Probably more likely than he’d let himself believe. Had to try and keep from going crazy somehow around here, and if denial was the only way…

Snapped from his thoughts only with the realization he’d been holding the lighter stupidly for a good moment, he tipped his head, focused on his cigarette and the smoke from it.

“Pete,” a pause, to offer the lighter back, before he continued, new focus either from the comforting motions of having something to do with his hands or out of a desire to keep from getting lost in thought and blurting out something more stupid than usual, “You aren’t what I’d expect from what goes around.”

“That is a common sentiment. Many do not know what to expect; their minds drifting towards the ‘hero’ archetype in their mind. Alas, as I consistently remind people, I am no hero.”

He paused, taking yet another drag of his cigarette.

What was this town, really, but a focal point for the barely-restrained insanity that was life in America? By the standards that Christophe held life to, it barely registered.

“And yet everyone always seems to ask me what secrets I hold.”

A glance, as he eyed up Pete; his stance similar to his own, eyes lacking the shine that many held; the unrestrained optimism of the world. 

“It almost makes me want to ask you the same question. You aren’t what I would expect from someone who would willingly seek me out. At least... not from someone who doesn’t immediately try to draft me for some misguided cause.”

[anti-belief]

naturalxs:

           why could he not just LEAVE it be? it should be obvious by now that she doesn’t want to speak about it. there was no way that someone as ‘PERFECT’ as her would ever let it slip that she was acting so blearily because of a MINOR pill addiction, when she should actually be no where NEAR such medications due to past problems. no WAY could she tell the truth.

      and so – she opts out once again, a small smile on her face followed by a VAGUELY nervous little laugh. her hand has risen to her hair, pale fingers trailing through the violet locks as she ATTEMPTS to work out what to say.

       “ you’re right there. sleep is VERY important. um, but honest. i just have a LOT on my mind lately. i get why you might be worried, it makes perfect sense. but really. i’m FINE. “

          a LIE but she could use it to push past all of this by opening the path to a different kind of DISCUSSION. she does not UNDERSTAND just how he has managed to latch onto one of her biggest WEAKNESSES but it is something she will avoid. and so when she speaks up again there is a VAGUELY forced cherriness in her voice. 

          “ so … we were talking about the VILLAINY of organized religion, right? “

Christophe was running out of patience.

Despite his comradeship with Wendy - if it could even be called that - his nature and his desire to probe for the secrets that lay under her actions was waning; if only slightly.

His eyebrow raised at the cheeriness; the saccharine mark in her voice, the tone ill-fitted to the sharp words and sharper looks that he was accustomed to when speaking to her.

“I believe we were, mon amie. Do not think I have forgotten... but I will allow it to slip, for now.”

It wasn’t a threat; but it was a gentle remark.

“I am happy to repeat my arguments if you require, Wendy, but I would recommend sleeping over hearing my arguments. I can wait.”

[anti-belief]

newkiing:

‘ mommy issues? ‘

you too? peach almost threw in with an amused look, but she managed to refrain herself. she figured everyone in this HELLISH town had some sort of issue with their parents, and she ought to stop feeling so SPECIAL about her in-home problems. or maybe better APPRECIATE that she held a lot in common with her newfound friends here.

‘ a house ain’t always home, that’s what i’ve learned all these years. ‘

“I daresay it is less my issues with her as a person but more the nature of her belief; she puts her every faith into what is at best a noncaring cocksucker above, who enjoys playing with our mortality like we are but ants under his magnifying glass.”

He raised an eyebrow at her remarks.

“Indeed, mon cherie; that is slowly becoming a more obvious fact of life in this town; home is where you choose it to be.”

[anti-belief]

wvnderweather:

     𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑘​;;– As much as he’d love to just drag on about his personal issues, though it wasn’t something he wanted to get into right this moment. He took a moment to think, speaking of drinks, what did he want?

     ‘ I think… I think like something strong but also something I can hardly taste the strength in it. ‘ He then paused. ‘ And, don’t worry about it. It–It isn’t something you should worry about. Just my own stupid little thing. ‘

Christophe took a moment behind the bar, before pulling out his go-to drink for those who needed to burn away their sorrows; but without the feeling of flame.

“Try this, my friend. Strong enough to wipe clean the slate of stress... for a while, at least.”

He raised an eyebrow as Tweek continued, belittling his own issues.

“And every problem is someone’s ‘own stupid little thing’. I am still happy to assist, if there is something I can do.”

He picked up a glass, idly cleaning it.

“Even if it just to act as a listening ear.”

[anti-belief]

birdieflip:

[ @anti-belief ]

  “You have 3 seconds to tell me why you decided to bother me,”

“I hear you punch problems, my friend. I have been given a small task, and I daresay I could use someone of your strength.”

“There will of course be compensation.”

[memesandthings]

TEXT MESSAGE STARTERS ! Send one of the prompts below to get a response from my muse.

drunk texts:

( ✉ → sms ) plea se eh elep me im drunk and i dotn know whe re i am

( ✉ → sms ) i fukcing miss yo u

( ✉ → sms ) i look so fuckigjn GOOD

( ✉ → sms ) i csnst stop throwiging up

( ✉ → sms ) fu ck you  for hurting me

( ✉ → sms ) why dotn you ever call me anymore huh

( ✉ → sms ) stop being so fuckigjn borign and coekm to my party

( ✉ → sms ) i dropped my pzziza o nt eh floror im fuckgin pissed

( ✉ → sms ) i j sut left you a 3 mintue long voicemail singing. sorry

( ✉ → sms ) even when i’m durnk ic ant sotp thinking about oyu

hateful texts:

( ✉ → sms ) you’re pathetic

( ✉ → sms ) you make me miserable

( ✉ → sms ) fuck you. delete my number.

( ✉ → sms ) you never meant anything to me, anyway.

( ✉ → sms ) fuck your apologies, you can keep them.

( ✉ → sms ) congrats on always ruining everything

( ✉ → sms ) my life would be so much easier without you.

( ✉ → sms ) and next time you feel like calling me… don’t.

( ✉ → sms ) i don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

( ✉ → sms ) if your goal was to make me hate you, then congratulations. mission accomplished.

misc/random texts:

( ✉ → sms ) i think my neighbor is an alien.

( ✉ → sms ) help me think of a name for my new dog

( ✉ → sms ) sooooo… what was your first impression of me

( ✉ → sms ) should i get pizza or chicken wings for dinner?

( ✉ → sms ) no one’s ever made me feel the way you do.

( ✉ → sms ) i borrowed your weed. hope you don’t mind.

( ✉ → sms ) why do they say drugs are bad when they make you feel so good

( ✉ → sms ) today is the oldest you’ve ever been, but the youngest you’ll ever be again…

( ✉ → sms ) [ File Attached: 001329.jpg ] of all the drunk pictures i have of you, this one is my favorite.

( ✉ → sms ) i used your pics to catfish someone, and since they bought me a laptop… you have a date with them tomorrow.

[anti-belief]

ukulelesolosandfoiledplans:

“ Ju-Just Tim! And… me. I th-think people can assess the sheet normally right? ”

“ Correct, to some degree. No one knows who you are but other heros WILL be able to view your information, specifically Dee if she manages to acquire it. ”

[ Timmy admits, shrugging. It wasn’t a bad thing. But he takes the sheet and looks over it. ]

He sighs.

“I will have to accept it. I am unaware of any other way of being able to tap into the insanity that is your game without one of these; and thus...”

A pause, as he took a drink.

“If Mademoiselle Dee or Mademoiselle Peach aquire this, I may be in more trouble than I would prefer. May I ask... where, perchance, will you be storing this. Do you truly need my name attached to it?”

Christophe seemed rather desperate to cloak his identity. No surprises there.

[anti-belief]

despairingcurse:

Oh, he’d heard of The Mole– but then, who hadn’t by now?        Some kind of hero for saving someone. Something? Pete had never devoted too much energy or time to figuring out exactly what it was the guy had done. Had only assumed from the rumors that The Mole was yet another weird hero alter-ego, some kid running around with his underwear outside his pants and getting involved in things that only ever seemed to happen in their little mountain town.                He really needed to get away from this place. Yet now, looking at who he could only assume was the myth, the legend, the man himself, Pete found himself… not as impressed as he could have been. “You’re The Mole?”

A pause– where what he’d been going to say faded and he settled instead for, “You have a lighter?”             No need to go around insulting the guy if he was everything the rumors had made him out to be.

Christophe - the Mole - was always surprised about how far his exploits had spread. Every now and again he would find someone claiming to know what he had done.

He always laughed. No one ever knew the range. Most people knew him from his heroic efforts - despite his death - to assist in the rescue of Terrance and Phillip.

Having finally met someone who did not immediately jump to either blind worship or extreme disdain sparked a small flicker of interest; especially considering the recent events with the costumed superheroes having led to a lot of events having his involvement... even when he did nothing.

The rumour mill was vicious, insatiable, and inaccurate.

“Indeed-” The french accent was ever-present, but slightly faded due to years spent in South Park. “-I am The Mole. However... most call me Christophe, at the moment.”

A nod of recognition at the request, as he took a moment to light his own cigarette, placing it between his lips and taking an effortless drag even as he handed his lighter to the stranger.

He didn’t ask for a name. He presumed the stranger would offer it when they were ready to do so.

[anti-belief]

❝ I haven’t had so much fun since I killed my parents. ❞

“My dear, of all the heinous acts I have truly heard, and seen, and performed - that falls not even in the top 20. You will just have to try harder.”

“But I am glad you had fun. That’s when it starts.”

[anti-belief]

newkiing:

‘ didn’t know this place held such SENTIMENTAL VALUE to you, ‘ she spoke after politely listening to him. 

it was a surprise to her because if she had to be honest, the place wasn’t much to look at. perhaps this was all he had to offer for the heroes of south park? from the looks of it, it seemed ENOUGH. the patrons at least seemed content with the warmth the bar provided them as well as the peace of mind.

perhaps it would be best if she looked beneath the exterior. 

‘ i’m sure the place would be find for a few short hours. ‘

“I agree, mademoiselle Peach.”

I would not have been the first time Christophe would leave his bar unattended; and nor would it be the last. His patrons and him had come to a small agreement. That, and the knowledge of what Christophe did in his past, and the fear of him unleashing his full talents on those who took deep advantage.

“And this bar is effectively my home. My... mother and I. We disagree on what she feels is a fundamental aspect of life.”

[anti-belief]

bigboncd:

❝ It’s okay, you can just say it. I get it. ❞ Cartman rolls his eyes. ❝ Catholic priests are pretty fucked up. ❞ He waves dismissively. 

❝ So do you have any lighter fluid? Matches? A barrel of propane’s always fun… Makes it big ‘n loud. ❞ He grins. 

Christophe inwardly smiled. He knew Cartman was only assisting him due to his nature; and love of destruction and flame; but in the end that was one of the driving reasons for his own involvement.

(He would take down the corrupt system that was the Church, and undo all of the damage it has done to the world as a whole; with it’s belief in god being a crutch.)

“I do have lighter fluid, and matches, but sadly I do not possess propane. However, I have recently come into possession of thermite.”

He smiled, a little.

“I imagine we will be able to find some use to put it towards.”