Within These Walls

Summary: In a steampunk future, the boys act as delivery boys towards their mafia-esque families, hoping and begging for a revolution. Stenny, Kyman, Wetters. Accepting OCs!

Author's Note: Well, here we go, on a big adventure. This and Night Lights are going to be my two big projects – this one focusing on more of the OCs, and Night Lights being a canon-only affair. So, as I stated, please toss in your OCs. Read the chapter first, but after you're done, feel free to fill this out.

First Name:

Last Name: (Please put the family name – as in the mafia-esque family in (). State their real name outside of the (). )

Age: (5-19 for normal deliverers and postmortem men. 1-99 for special deliverers. But PLEASE WAIT UNTIL CHAPTER 2 FOR SUBMITTING SPECIAL DELIVERERS.)

Gender:

Appearance: (LONG AND DETAILED, PLEASE)

Allegiance: (Are you a normal citizen aligned with the government? Are you a supporter of the deliverers and their families, but not one yourself? If you're a deliverer, what family do you work for? If you're a postmortem man, same?)

Occupation: (Please state a daytime job – something reasonable and steampunk-ish, along with them either being a postmortem man or a deliverer. If your character is a special deliverer, such as Lilac, please at least wait until Chapter 2 to submit them – Lilac makes her appearance there and we learn about the special deliverers then. If your character is a postmortem man or a deliverer, feel free to submit them now. If your character is a normal citizen, only put a daytime job.)

Alliances: (If you're part of a family, do you have any alliances out of the family's preferences? If you're a postmortem man, do you have a relationship with any of your targets? Please be detailed.)

Rivalries: (If you're part of a family, do you truly hate anyone besides those that your family distastes?

Code Name: (Please see the bit on code names in the chapter. Note that they must follow the rules.)

Life Story/History: (Please be DETAILED! I want the most important events.)

Personality: (DETAILS, DETAILS, DETAILS)

Love Interest: (Please note that Kyle, Cartman, Stan, Kenny, Wendy, and Butters are taken. Everyone else is fair game for your OCs to give a shot at. Note that you can also say 'anyone' or 'no one'.)

Weapon of Choice: (Nothing too strange, please. And if you choose 'a gun', please be specific. 'A gun' won't help me, state some sort of brand, a style.)

More rules being that there can only be five deliverers for each family. This includes canon characters. So, if you wish to be part of the Broflovskis, Ike and Kyle would both have already taken spots – there'd be only three spots left for OCs. There can only be three postmortem men per family as well. This would be the 'leader', the 'commander', and the 'private'. Typically, when a mission is failed, one is killed, so if you get lucky and I decide to kill off someone from a family early, feel free to step up to replace them. There can only be one special deliverer per family. Please wait for Chapter 2 to see. I will only be accepting OCs up to Chapter 10. When we reach that point (that should be a third of the way done, by my estimate), I will not accept any more OCs. Please remember this.

Now, please enjoy the first chapter of 'Within These Walls'!

Chapter 1: Chin Music for the Unsuspecting Hero

The boy ran down an alley, glancing every-so-often behind him, terrified out of his mind. In his arms sat a box, a small box, a music box.

It was the only thing that mattered to him anymore.

He ran quickly, his breath escaping in small hisses as he passed, running towards the trading district. He glanced behind him, terrified out of his mind.

Of course, he had good reason for this behavior.

Finally, he reached the trading district, and finally, his father's shop. Running in, he placed the box on the counter, smiling pleasantly. The only thing he had hoped for, all this time was his parents' approval. All his life, he'd believe that one day he'd escape that feeling.

That feeling of being dad and mom's little disappointment.

That was why he'd become a delivery boy. That's why he'd run out every morning, with his little music box, receiving oh-so-precious but oh-so-rare (not to mention illegal) materials within the confines of it, and running back to his father's store before he was killed. They all knew that all 'delivery boys' were targets for any sort of family in the area. That was why it was remarkable for any boy to volunteer to be one, or any girl, for that matter. The deliverers never cared about their lives. They only cared about getting their materials and returning them to their families, while keeping away from hired guns or other deliverers who'd be apt to take the materials.

Sometimes, deliverers were even modified to have parts implanted into them from discarded robots. These were known as special deliverers, and for the most part, they were outlawed, and all officers, if they note anything out of the ordinary with a child, are suggested, no, ordered to shoot on site. With the incompetent law enforcement that District 876 employed, this lead to many accidental deaths – but there was always an excuse to cover it up.

Just as there was an excuse for all of the families to still get away with this business.

The Stotches were one of these families. Leopold 'Butters' Stotch was their delivery boy –notably, their WILLING delivery boy. He took pride in his job, although he was new to it, and the sheer fact that he'd lost his materials to others at different time periods – and there was always the threat that a hired gun (or as they like to be called, postmortem men) that could take him out. Notably, Little Red – the only name she was known by – the infamous assassin for the most prominent family in the area (being that their delivery boy was notable for always getting the job done), the Marshes, seemed to be particularly dangerous.

That was another thing about the postmortem men – they went by fairytale names, just as the delivery boys went by nursery rhyme names. Butters' happened to be Little Boy Blue, and that was the only thing other delivery boys knew him by – unless they had established alliances, such as the Marshes and Broflovskis had ties - just as everyone seemed to not give any shits about the Stotches, considering Butters, so they had no real reason to hide their identities. He'd known since he started school that Kyle happened to be Little Jack Horner and that Stan was the infamously dangerous Jack A. Nory. It was an unstated truth that if Little Boy Blue, Little Jack Horner, Jack A. Nory, Peter Piper (that being Kenny) , and Doctor Foster (that being, of course, Cartman) were to ever meet during routes, they would pretend to fight, however, they would not kill each other, nor would they steal the others' materials. Only, if truly ordered to, they would truly fight.

This agreement, of course, did not hold true for Little Jack Horner and Doctor Foster, although this was strictly towards each other – and otherwise, this agreement seemed to stay firmly in place, with encounters only leading to a few scratches to prove that they had found each boy – and if their families were to ever get on bad terms, the child would not be so lucky.

Butters had about five of these scars already.

His father took the package and nodded. Butters sighed, slumping down onto the floor, smiling weakly. Another job done. He could only hope that his parents would be proud of him for getting the materials this time. It was more or less something he hoped and dreamed for, but with their wreckless emotions and their equally as wrecked marriage, it was almost a hopeless dream. Thinking about this almost made him cry every time, but he sucked it up. Delivery boys don't cry. At least, he guessed so.

If they did, he'd let his tears fall without abandon. But he couldn't. He had to be strong for those who couldn't be - those who'd died in his same line of work.

Although those deep thoughts only came from Butters on a rare occasion, he blinked, sitting up straight, as a small albino girl walked into the shop. She looked somewhat dazed, but smiled, staring straight into Butters' eyes.

"My name is Iris." She stated. "Is this the Stotch residence?"

"Yes." Butters nodded, getting up. "This is Stotch's Weaponry. What may I do for you?"

"My name is Iris Valmer, otherwise known as Lucy Lockett. I am here to offer my services to the Stotch family, as somewhat of a truce between the Stotch family and the Valmer family. I am a special deliverer, you see." She smiled sweetly as the key – the awkward, jilting, out-of-place key in her back that reminded you that, no, she was soulless, she was one of them, an abomination against the lord, a combination of child and machine, a special deliverer. "I will work to help both the Stotches and the Valmers collect materials, and make sure that both sides are satisfied with deliveries. However, if I turn up dead, the Valmer family will instantly attack the Stotch residence. If I come home empty-handed, but alive, I will be rewarded by Master Valmer and I will be able to go on with my deliveries as usual, however, you will get no benefit. Please, make a decision quickly."

"U-Um….um….mom, dad!" Butters yelped, unsure what to do with this girl. Iris smiled, cracking her knuckles absent-mindedly, still with that overly interested, possessed, bizarre grin and that wind-up key in her back turning and turning as a sign of life in that soulless body that filled itself with mechanics of all sorts. Stephen Stotch, Butters' father, left his workshop room, and walked towards the counter, noticing the situation. He began to discuss matters with the small girl, and she spoke with the wording and manner of a dignified adult, with only a British accent undertone hinting that she, once, had origins in some place, had been a child once before she became a terrifying creature of gears and wires that she was now. Iris looked down at Butters, being about an inch taller than him, and smiled.

"Your father has said that we will be working together from now on. I do so await our first joint delivery, and I will go tell Master Valmer that our alliance has been established. Thank you, Master Stotch, and I will see you later, Little Boy Blue." Iris ran off, her legs running faster than any human could dream of running, and her eyes turning a faint shade of red as she did. Butters glanced up at his father, who got down on his level.

"Now, Butters, you'll be working with Iris now. Do not tell her anything unnecessary." Stephen stressed the word unnecessary in an unusual way. "Do not tell her our private business; only cooperate with her if necessary, or if I or your mother tell you so. Got it?"

"Y-Yes sir." Butters nodded quickly, somewhat terrified by both the mechanical girl and his own father, who grounded him on a daily basis when in an agitated mood.

"Good boy." Stephen patted him on the head, and walked off. Butters sighed, breath escaping from his lips and floating out as if to take all his worries away with it. He could only wish.

He could only wish, and wait, and deliver as each day passed by.

The point being, the Valmers were infamous for passing around alliances like candy. Iris was most likely working for, as well as the Stotches, the Marshes (but who wasn't), the Blacks, the Broflovskis, the Cartmans, and many many others that Jimmy'd established to save his own skin, just as he kept good relationships with the deliverers at school as to establish this as well. He was 'trustworthy', and that was exactly why he WASN'T trustworthy. He was TOO honest, TOO off, TOO strange. It seemed to always work the opposite way in the world of deliverers. Cartman was trusted as he was rotten to the core and cowardly – if he made an alliance, he promised no backup, but it was honest if there was no option to reject it outright – and if it was presented at all, it was a good sign. Butters was the lowest pedal, leading to only beginner alliances – ones presented to insure that in the future, if there was potential, there'd be more presents in the future if the alliances weren't ruined.

Naturally, of course, alliances were the easiest thing in the world to ruin, and there were many who knew this more than others – the Crabtrees, the Mephestos, the Barbradys – that one being particularly gruesome considering how the Barbradys had played both sides of the allegiance, being orchestrated by the Tuckers, and rumor had it that his daughter – a mentally-challenged overweight little girl of only 12 had been turned into a special deliverer FOR the Tuckers, and had her memories changed entirely, just as the same had happened to the mad scientist daughter of Mephesto – Antoinette – being turned into a special deliverer for the Tweaks. Neither of them were to know, and neither of them ended up knowing as of yet.

Butters had been lucky that his family hadn't hired any postmortem men or special deliverers as forces, and they had no plans to – as of the last time he asked, at least. He could only hope that Stephen and Linda's plans hadn't changed – adding 'siblings' to his family would terrify him. The worst thing of all was his neverending fear that once he got 'siblings', he'd be forgotten altogether. Maybe even get his memories erased and turned into a special deliverer, himself. A shell of his former self, artificial happiness and all.

As he walked up the stairs to his room, he sighed, realizing the morning would bring a entirely new show – Butters happened to also be 'Little Marjorine', a performer in cute acts (featuring singing and dancing) during the day on weekends, and that was how his parents got their money, besides selling hand weapons. At least, then, he could see him.

It was a pity that the boy that he ended up loving played the cow. A black-haired boy with his hair cut short – a bit young, but really smart, sweet, kind, cute…he babbled on and on about him, although this had only come out towards Kenny, who'd been high at the time, and so he offered his theories.

"Dude, what if the boy is a crossdressing girl? Just like you're a crossdressing boy. Then you'd have to crossdress as a boy crossdressing as a girl and she'd have to crossdress as a girl crossdressing like a boy and…." Kenny laughed. "It'd be fuckin' hilarious."

"…I don't think that'll happen." Butters grinned weakly. Kenny merely laughed again and wrapped his arm around him.

"My Butters is in looooveeee! So this means I can't offer you casual sex when you get older?" Kenny stared into Butter's eyes as if asking him an entirely serious question of great importance. "I mean, we're both probably natural blondes, we co—"

"Sorry, Kenny."

"Fuck. Well, you know where I am if you ever want a good lay."

"…..Yeah. Thanks, Kenny."

"No, thank you. Hey, why's there a crow pecking at your ear? And it's changing colors?"

"It's because you're high, Kenny."

"Oh. Right."

It'd been forgotten since, but he still seemed to remember the part that Butters hoped would be forgotten – the part where he propositioned the boy for casual sex – and this offer was always rejected, causing Kenny to have mild disappointment.

The only thing, however, that Butters could draw from anything was that Keith – was that his name? – Keith was someone he truly loved. Someone who he could relate to, someone who he could fall for, the first person to join the act and the first person to be truly enthusiastic about them, causing Butters to regain his spirit as well and dance all around as Marjorine, while Stephen and Linda hoped to god that one day, Little Marjorine could go perform for rich families – maybe in Denver, the capitol, the center of the whole state – and some place that some families only dream of going.

Naturally, Butters kept his head held high and his dreams still existing, putting on a good show, always, always, and then switching immediately into delivery boy mode afterwards. There was no rest for those who had to be deliverers. No rest.

Especially those, who, as best summed up, were unsuspecting heroes.