05-13-2018, 10:36 PM
[div style="margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 35px; color: white;"]pierce parker
☀ — and till the end you're my very best friend
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//tldr; it's pierce's "birthday" (he celebrates a month early because he forgot lmaoo) & he's reflecting on his last birthday party. he misses his bf & daughter and to take his mind off things he throws a little party for himself
One year ago today, Pierce had had it all. A sister, a best friend, a bunch of loved ones surrounding him. He'd had a clan to look after, a duty to fulfill- he had been whole, not a care in the world so long as everyone he cared about was safe. What he wouldn't give to have that life back, that life where everything had been so simple. Hell, there'd hardly been any issues between his clan and others back then. They'd had almost no worries, to the point that his best friend had had the time to throw a surprise party for him- his first birthday party. Walking into the little clearing Riddlersgame had set up for him had been one of the best moments of his life, if he was being honest. He could almost feel it, the cool spring air on his cheeks as his gaze settled upon his friend, a broad grin spread across his features. He could feel Riddler's soft fur as he wrapped him up in a hug, smell the familiar, comforting scent of old books and pine on his tabby pelt. It had pretty much been their final happy, whole moment together before the incident, when everything went to shit. How he longed to be in the other's embrace once more.
It wasn't uncommon that Pierce missed his family. No, and that was expected from everyone when they were away from each other. What bothered him wasn't that they were gone, but that they were still gone. It had been, what, three months? He knew they hadn't died - he would have seen him at the festival if they had -, but who's to say something else, something worse hadn't happened? What if someone had taken them? Or they were sick? It was possible Clementine's condition had somehow worsened while he was away and she couldn't make the trip, but he would never be able to know for sure, and it was tearing him apart.
At first, to escape his thoughts, he'd painted and wrote and drawn, but he was getting worse. He'd found he was chewing his claws, and his paintbrushes, and he knew if he let it continue, it would only keep going downhill. So, he found another outlet; cooking.
Pierce wasn't a good chef, and an even worse baker, but it definitely distracted him from things, and since it was his birthday, he figured he might as well give his clanmates a chance to celebrate. And what did people usually eat at birthdays? Cake, of course. Though, Pierce wasn't too keen on the idea of trying making a cake again, so he settled for cookies instead, and just hoped it'd go okay.
Well, it hadn't, really, but the desserts were only a bit burnt, and since they were still warm and their chocolate bits were still melty, he decided he might as well just go for it and serve them. So, carrying a little platter of chocolate-chip cookies into camp, Pierce placed them gently on the ground, a small smile finding its way to his lips. "Hey! I, uh, baked some cookies, if you guys are interested." He felt a little odd announcing himself that it was his birthday, so unless someone asked, he wouldn't mention it. He didn't mind keeping it to himself, anyway- in a year's time, they'd probably all forget, so what did it matter? There was no point in troubling them with it and basically baiting "happy birthday"s.
"speech"
One year ago today, Pierce had had it all. A sister, a best friend, a bunch of loved ones surrounding him. He'd had a clan to look after, a duty to fulfill- he had been whole, not a care in the world so long as everyone he cared about was safe. What he wouldn't give to have that life back, that life where everything had been so simple. Hell, there'd hardly been any issues between his clan and others back then. They'd had almost no worries, to the point that his best friend had had the time to throw a surprise party for him- his first birthday party. Walking into the little clearing Riddlersgame had set up for him had been one of the best moments of his life, if he was being honest. He could almost feel it, the cool spring air on his cheeks as his gaze settled upon his friend, a broad grin spread across his features. He could feel Riddler's soft fur as he wrapped him up in a hug, smell the familiar, comforting scent of old books and pine on his tabby pelt. It had pretty much been their final happy, whole moment together before the incident, when everything went to shit. How he longed to be in the other's embrace once more.
It wasn't uncommon that Pierce missed his family. No, and that was expected from everyone when they were away from each other. What bothered him wasn't that they were gone, but that they were still gone. It had been, what, three months? He knew they hadn't died - he would have seen him at the festival if they had -, but who's to say something else, something worse hadn't happened? What if someone had taken them? Or they were sick? It was possible Clementine's condition had somehow worsened while he was away and she couldn't make the trip, but he would never be able to know for sure, and it was tearing him apart.
At first, to escape his thoughts, he'd painted and wrote and drawn, but he was getting worse. He'd found he was chewing his claws, and his paintbrushes, and he knew if he let it continue, it would only keep going downhill. So, he found another outlet; cooking.
Pierce wasn't a good chef, and an even worse baker, but it definitely distracted him from things, and since it was his birthday, he figured he might as well give his clanmates a chance to celebrate. And what did people usually eat at birthdays? Cake, of course. Though, Pierce wasn't too keen on the idea of trying making a cake again, so he settled for cookies instead, and just hoped it'd go okay.
Well, it hadn't, really, but the desserts were only a bit burnt, and since they were still warm and their chocolate bits were still melty, he decided he might as well just go for it and serve them. So, carrying a little platter of chocolate-chip cookies into camp, Pierce placed them gently on the ground, a small smile finding its way to his lips. "Hey! I, uh, baked some cookies, if you guys are interested." He felt a little odd announcing himself that it was his birthday, so unless someone asked, he wouldn't mention it. He didn't mind keeping it to himself, anyway- in a year's time, they'd probably all forget, so what did it matter? There was no point in troubling them with it and basically baiting "happy birthday"s.
"speech"
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