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Name: Kyle Broflovski

Age: 17

Eyes: Green

Height: 5'4

Weight: 136 Ibs

Status: It's complicated

Magic Anon: N/A

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Going down to South Park →


He probably won’t think I’m weird right? Choco thought to himself I mean, to him, I’m just a stay pup. It’d be different if I was human. Hope I get his attention…man that ice cream looks good. Wish I had one too…

He noticed the boy glanced at him for a few times and then back to his ice cream. He was starting to get a few good signs. But it wasn’t the time to talk just yet. So he started off with a simple


Man, it’s been so long since I barked…

(Wow that description of that ice cream is sublime)

[[ I’m so glad you liked it! I am sorry it took so long to respond though, I am trash when it comes to responding on a very timely basis. D; ]]

Shoulder’s stiffening very siddenly at the high pitch barked that emminated from the litle bundle of fur at his feet, Kyle blinks pulling the plastic oval from his lips, head tilting down to take in the sight of the yorkie as a whole. Fur, teeth, claws, beady little eyes, yes that was a dog alright, with a shrill bark, and perhaps demanding personality.

Lips gently curving at the corners of his mouth, his knees bend, torso dropping down, and boots shuffling apart so that he could squat down before the young looking beast. One elbow resting against his knee, the hand cupping the plastic bowl of ice cream lowers just so, showing that not very much of the green sweet remained within the confides of the clear container. Placing that down on the snow covered pavement, he altogether shuffles back on his heels, red brow curving upwards curiously, “you want some ice cream, girl?”


The walk from the motel to the small mountain town wasn’t that far, thank goodness, but it was much too cold and windy for her liking. She had lived with snow her whole life, being from North Carolina, and before that France, but she had never liked walking in it. Her feet kept sinking deeper and deeper into the stuff, her worn out boots getting soaked in the process. She’d ask her dad for new ones, if he wasn’t so busy all the time.

Her dad was a business man, mainly a spokesperson for a few companies in America and France, and traveled all over the world to make deals using his multilingual vocabulary. It also helped his career as a military doctor, which was his main profession, but he rarely traveled for that nowadays, usually staying at the base back home. But neither of his professions explained what they were doing in South Park. Lillian sighed again, this time more irritably, deciding to give up on trying to figure out why they were here.

She smiled slightly when she finally came up to the town, the quiet streets actually making her feel somewhat calm. Still didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want to stay here, though. Watching as her breath floated into the air, she continued walking, the snow lightly crunching beneath her feet. She pulled down her hood, revealing her long, blond hair that gently fell to about above her knees. She instantly regrets it, though, as a gust of chilling wind rushes past her face, sending shivers down her spine. Then, in an instant, it happens.

A pound of snow, lazily tossed into the air, plummets directly on top of her. It caught her off guard, the shear cold feel of it making all of her hairs stand on end. She stepped back, bewildered, and slipped on an ice patch on the sidewalk, falling down hard. She groaned slightly in pain, sitting up on the frozen ground, then looked over at the person with angered tears forming in her eyes. “Hey! What did you do that for?!”

To say the least, the sudden thud of body smacking atop of ice and shrill voice accompanying the air moments later accusingly pointed in Kyle’s direction, was startling. Kyle’s shoulder’s rise, back going rigid and straight, mid-scoop of a larger pile of snow on the walk way, his attention slowly shifting so that his neck casually cranes around behind him to the view of a blond girl with her ass in the snow, the white substance powdering the top of her head and her shoulders… Dropping the shovel handle, he spins around on his heel, eyebrows curving upwards in mild concern, his lime green gloves extended outwards towards the girl, palms up for her to take.

“Shit, dude, that was my bad.” Taking responsibility very quickly for what could only be interpreted as his carelessness having toppled the poor girl over and covered her in snow, his knees bend to lower himself down. Hands grasping her own briefly, he puts his weight into the back of his heel using it to help tug her back onto her feet.

Carefully brushing the snow from her jacket shoulders, rather casually, he blinks eyes going over the features briefly, before finally coming to the conclusion he didn’t in fact know the girl standing before him. In such a small town, that was an odd occurrence, maybe she’d just moved in, or something? Though, why anyone would want to come to live in a place like South Park was beyond Kyle. Patting her coat shoulders briefly, his hand return to his sides, slapping his gloves against his hips, any stubborn flakes clinging to the woven material shaken from his gloves.

Heaving out a sigh, he makes an obvious once over of her person, brows knitting together, tongue sliding over his chapped lips, while his jaw shifts along with a curious nod in her direction, “Are you from around here?”

Going down to South Park


((RP with askthejewishfuck Sorry it’s late. Here we go!) )

Choco was visiting a small town in Colorado. His parents were sick and tired of the summer heat, so they decided to go somewhere cold. Choco didn’t know why they’d do a strange thing like that. He wished Flora and Fluffy was here with him to keep him company. But they had other things to do…

Bored,Choco sat a small little corner in a neighborhood. As he watched humans passing by, he noticed a boy in and orange coat wearing a green hat. He seemed like a cool guy to hang out with, even though he wasn’t a dog like him. He walked up towards the boy to get his attention. He decided not to talk yet; the time wasn’t right yet…

((Gah, this intro’s not really that good. I hope this is a good start though…))

[[ Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry I’m replying late, too. Lol, I didn’t know Choco was a dog, this is going to be experimental, so forgive me if my replies are a little odd.]]

Feet padding down the snow sprinkled cement walkways of the humble little Mountain town, a blue book bag slung across his back, and a cone of ice cream in hand, trudged forward a lone Kyle Broflovski. Or, at least such had been for a time, at least until the boy had found himself in the peering company of a miniature puffball at his feet.

Green eyes casting over the small pup, briefly, Kyle’s gaze shifts to the frozen treat in hand, returning to the small canine a moment later. Pace slowing considerably, as he took in the sight, the red plastic spoon in his hand dips into the melting sweet, carrying  portion of the dessert past his lips so that the chunk may meet it’s inevitable demise. Tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth briefly, Kyle’s feet come to a halt, the red head standing erect in the midst of the walkway, testingly anticipating that the yorkie would continue to trudge forward.


Just a few days, sweetheart. It’s gonna be fine, and I’m sure you’ll make some friends while you’re here. Just, think of it as a vacation, okay?’

"Yeah, a vacation." Lillian scoffed as she replayed her father’s words in her head. What she had imagined when her father said they were taking a vacation up north was the generic sitting by the fire in the log cabin, and drinking hot cocoa while she looked at the snow and stars in awe. ‘South Park’ was nothing like the snowy vacation spot she had in mind at all.

Sure, it had snow, and it was nice to catch on her tongue and crunch beneath her boots. But, the town was so…off putting. Some of the people were nice, sure, and it was quiet and peaceful. But that was it. The town was just too boring, and she barely saw any kids around her age. The most fun she had was watching TV at the motel on the outskirts of town.So, when her dad told her that they were staying in the mountain town for three more days, she was not pleased.

She had decided to take a walk around the town after hearing the news, a gust of cold air rushing past her face as she stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. She didn’t want to stay here any longer. At all.

Today was like any other in the snowy redneck mountain town called South Park; in other words not particularly great, and not that horrible. It was an acquired taste, some would say- especially with some of the unfathomable rumors anyone outside of Denver might hear of the small arrangement of a town. For example, tales of “mooing” alien abductions, and brooding celebrities hiding their faces as local geologists. 

It was more than likely one would have had to have been born into the town to like it, and still such was often not the case for growing children and teenagers bred in the area. Such was not the case specifically for one Kyle Broflovski shoveling off the snow from the cemented in drive and walk way belonging to the towering green home behind him.

Green gloves tightly wound around the worn wooden handle, a loud exhale of irritating passes through the skin of his lips in the form of a sigh, his breath ghosting a white color before his mouth before fading off at the edges and then all at once. The damned job was meant for his little brother, something to make the pre-teen grow hairs on his chest, build character, all that good shit, for $5 no less… and somehow he’d weaseled out of the task. He must’ve ducked out into the back yard in the bright and early morning, long before the household had gotten, by evidence of an empty plate and cup in the sink, and the absence of one pest of a little brother. Following the cycle of command in the home, the duty of snow-shoveling the drive way fell to Kyle, being that the teen was not a parent evidently.

Focusing on the task of begrudgingly dragging the metal of the flat shovel beneath the piles of snow resting against the walk way, and depositing it neatly into a bank of snow on the surely dead grass of his lawn, he hardly notices the shaded figure approaching him.

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"Ah yes, god forbid you freeze your ass of on your own" Stan joked. He scuffed his heel along the snow beneath him. Slowly the large yellow bus came rambling down the street. Stan gave a relived sigh as it stopped in front of him and the doors hissed open.

He nudged Kyle lightly as if to say ‘c’mon’ and stepped on to the craplily heated bus. The bus driver glared at them as per usual as he shuffled past the other students and down the thin isle. On the last seat he plopped down his bag. And then himself with a content sigh.

"Well, yeah,that’s what best friends are for, so you don’t freeze your balls off all alone." Rolling the green marbles that made up his eyes around his head, his heels pad behind the teenager atop the screeching bus, and down the aisle. Plopping his rear into the seat just before last, he shuffles his bag off his shoulders, and waits for the bus to gentle roll forward off the salted roads, before twisting on his hip lightly to face his friend, arm resting against the back of his seating.

"Tomorrow, if you want, for at least until your car gets fixed, we can take mine to school. Provided, you know, you let me take your parking spot for the time being." As riveting as conversations about the temperature, and offhanded comments about the past were, it would probably be better to avoid that conversation topic and trade it in for more useful subjects, such as ‘can I borrow your homework for a second’ or pretty much anything else, actually. "What do you think, dude?"

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Stan chuckled at his friends comment about the bus. He leaned into his friend slightly when he came closer. He uncrossed his arms and stuck his hands in his pockets. It was ridiculously cold and Stan could’ve gladly gone without it. “Yeah,” he replied “it sucks. But waiting here with you isn’t all that bad. Except for the cold” he finished.

He stayed silent a moment before breaking the short lived silence that hung in the frozen air. “This is ridiculous. Why does school even start this early anyways?” He asked aloud. Stan already hated school. And almost everything that came with it. Except for football and his friends Stan hated it.

The cold weather was definitely a damper on the mood, for Stan at least, but hell, Kyle had been progressively getting used to the chilling winds and sweeping snow, standing stubbornly at the stop every morning since School had started. And god, if he hadn’t thought the same thoughts and asked the same questions… shoulders rising and falling in a singular humble shrug his tongue clicks to the roof of his mouth, “It has something to do with farmers, from like way back when, the kids got up early in the morning to help their parents with the farms, and it just stuck ever since.”

Huffing out softly, his shoulders hunch, toe crunching the snow beneath his feet.Running his tongue wetly over his lips, his back straightens awkwardly as a chill runs through his body produced by a strong wind, “It sucks, though. But at least I’m not the only one freezing my ass off.”

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Stan smiled back and crossed his arms over his chest in a sad attempt to stay warm. The breeze was icy and sharp, and annoying Stan to no end. Cold wet mush seeped through his shoes and gloves causing them to almost go numb.

"Oh right." Stan breathed in reply his words freezing the air before him. "Jesus Christ." Stan muttered. "Is the bus ever gonna get here?" He asked rhetorically. The bus was almost always late and almost always delivering them to school late.

“It’ll get here, dude.” Nodding knowingly the smaller boy shuffles in closer to his friend, trudging past the snow that distanced the two of them besides the bus sign, his arm presses up against Stan’s comfortably so that they’re side to side. Hopefully it was a little warmer like that, any little bits of wind resistance helped, right? Essentially they were like penguins, except with less fat, and more brains. “It’ll just take a couple of years.”

Pulling his gloved hands from his pockets, he rubs them harshly against each other warming them up with friction, raising them to his lips to huff out a soft breath of hot air. It was about the only warm thing on him. Huffing softly, he cranes his neck to the side, bumping his shoulder into Stan’s lightly for attention, “Sucks that your car won’t start, but I’m glad you’re here. You have no idea how much it sucks waiting on the bus all alone. “

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Stan sighed “well yeah I was but my stupid car isn’t working. I think the battery is shot.” He explained. The cold air had slowly turned Stan’s cheeks rosy and turned his face numb. He thought of all the times they’d ended up here at the same bus stop.

He waited in silence for a second. Trying to think of what to say. He hadn’t gotten much sleep…and he most definitely wasn’t a morning person. So his mind was only pulling up blanks. He brought a gloved hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. He let out a tired groan. “So how come you didn’t buy a parking spot?”

Shuffling the heel of his boot to scuff at the surrounding snow collecting around the sidewalk, his toe taps pointlessly into the cushiony white flakes, delicate brow lifting curiously, if unimpressed by his companion. Asking the big questions early in the morning, tone unimpressively low and raspy no doubt from sleep, Stan just wasn’t a morning a guy, unlike Kyle. Poor bastard.

Scoffing softly, his shoulders hunch up in a shrug, but remain in the air, while a cool gust of wind presses his jacket and pants hard against his front side. Breath crystallizing briefly before his own lips, his jaw closes, green eyes darting towards his friend, a curious look on his face, “Last year when I bought a parking space, someone scratched the paintjob on the right side door, but the weird part is that my neighbor was always pretty careful not to fuck up my car when they got out, and then Cartman got new keys the same day.”

Shrugging the implication off, he offers a soft smile towards Stan, winking casually. “Anyway, it took me forever to save up enough money for the new paint job, and I didn’t want the same thing happening again this year, and now all the parking spaces are sold out, so that’s why I didn’t buy a parking space.”

· rp tag · rp ·

http://askthejewishfuck.tumblr.com/post/98896039166/standardmarsh-wasnt-it-a-bit-early-for →


'Just wonderful. Great' Stan muttered, his breath misting in the cold air of his car. He pressed in on the ignition until he felt like the key might slice into his hand, hoping brute force would make the car start. He released the breath he'd been holding in and gave up. He stepped out of the car into the cold air, slung his unnecessarily heavy bag onto his shoulder and began down the street.

Crunching noises sounded beneath him as he walked down the pavement. Tugging down on his beanie to cover his freezing ears. The warm weather had ended too soon for Stans liking. He crossed his arms and huffed. He could’ve been in his car warm, listening to music already almost to school. But sure enough his old trash bin of a car wasn’t starting.

He watched his breath appear and disappear before him until he saw the familiar yellow sign of the bus stop. And to his surprise a familiar green hatted figure. He quickened his slow pace to meet his friend by the sign. “Hey, Dude” Stan greeted

Left to nothing but his own thoughts, Kyle settles fumbling with the fingers of his gloves, ideas pointlessly bouncing around the inside of his head, as well as careless bantering back and forth a logical based argument surrounding the political aspects of school policies.  At least until the sound of crunching snow hurriedly coming closer to the studious boy, breaks his train of thought. Neck craning his head in the direction the silhouette form belonging to his best friend, the small boy’s posture visible shifts, his form straightening out and perking up in what could only be dubbed as excitement.

Green boots carrying his small form back on the cement walkway, his hand lifts from the warm comfort of his pocket, to the open air, his hand waving casually to beckon the other boy closer, only to stuff itself between the furry pockets in his jacket quickly. Turning to better face his friend, his shoulders lift in a shrug, though a smile forms across his lips, “Dude, what are you doing here? I thought you were gonna like, buy a parking space and drive your car to school every day? What happened?”

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