08-31-2018, 10:40 AM
[div style="margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 35px; color: white;"]pierce parker
☀ — just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me
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The largest thing Pierce had ever painted had been a portrait of his old clan. He had been one of the only artists in that place - at least, one of the only artists who painted. He couldn't quite recall if it had been a task he was given or just something he decided to do, but he could still vaguely envision the piece in his mind. Riddlersgame stood with his family, two little kittens and a beautiful molly, though he couldn't quite recall any of their names. The kittens, the boys, Pierce could remember growing up to be well-respected in the clan, though he hadn't had the best of relationships with one. He stood near the edge of the group, he was pretty sure, and he'd placed some of his other friends who didn't really have families next to him. The canvas had been huge, way above his head, and filled with each of his clanmates. He'd even put a pretty background of their camp, if he wasn't mistaken. A masterpiece, it had been, though lost to time, left in that other world.
He couldn't help but wonder- had anyone ever come across his home after Riddler and Clementine left? Had someone who had never even known their beloved vice-leader stumbled across the abandoned studio under the overhang, found his paintings of flowers and loved ones alike? Did anyone there even remember him? The thought of being forgotten by those he loved had always terrified him, and it still did, but for some reason, hew as unbothered by this possibility. Perhaps, it was because he had forgotten these people first. How could he be upset they didn't know him anymore if he'd forgotten about them first?
All that dark stuff aside, Pierce was still painting to this day, so when he heard Corryn's call, he was quick to approach. "So there's nothing specific you're going for?" questioned the slender tom, peering into a tin of royal blue paint before glancing up at the avian. "No color scheme or specific landscape, or anything?" This would certainly be... interesting, if that were the case, but he had a feeling they could tie it all together if they were careful, and besides, it allowed for more creative freedom.
"speech"
He couldn't help but wonder- had anyone ever come across his home after Riddler and Clementine left? Had someone who had never even known their beloved vice-leader stumbled across the abandoned studio under the overhang, found his paintings of flowers and loved ones alike? Did anyone there even remember him? The thought of being forgotten by those he loved had always terrified him, and it still did, but for some reason, hew as unbothered by this possibility. Perhaps, it was because he had forgotten these people first. How could he be upset they didn't know him anymore if he'd forgotten about them first?
All that dark stuff aside, Pierce was still painting to this day, so when he heard Corryn's call, he was quick to approach. "So there's nothing specific you're going for?" questioned the slender tom, peering into a tin of royal blue paint before glancing up at the avian. "No color scheme or specific landscape, or anything?" This would certainly be... interesting, if that were the case, but he had a feeling they could tie it all together if they were careful, and besides, it allowed for more creative freedom.
"speech"
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