Parker Emery doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: 12 July 1997
Website: No Information
OoC Member Name: Taylor
Occupation: Biology / Criminology Major, Sophomore, & Waiter at Bernard's
Joined: 27-June 16
Last Seen: Yesterday at 08:51 pm
Local Time: Dec 16 2017, 03:13 AM
1,637 posts (3.1 per day)
( 2.97% of total forum posts )
Nov 20 2017, 01:23 AM
Contact: Care 💖
Time: 08/31/17, 10:13 pm
sorry i didnt see your text from earlier iwas at work. howre things going?Contact: Care 💖
Time: 08/31/17, 10:13 pmContact: Care 💖
Time: 08/31/17, 10:15 pm
Sep 16 2017, 05:47 PM
In his newer used car
that he finally got signed to his name last week, Parker makes his way over to the UMM dorms after exchanging a few texts with Adlai and letting Carrie know he'll be spending the day with Adlai for his birthday. In the passenger seat is a paper grocery bag with two bottles of kosher wine (different than the one they had last winter together) and a couple of honey-crumb cakes that the store clerk in Jonesport also told him were kosher.
He sends Adlai another text once he parks his car, and then makes his way towards the dorm building, bag in hand. He waits around the entrance for less than a minute when Adlai opens it to let him in.
"Hey, happy birthday," he says with a warm smile as he steps in.
Aug 5 2017, 03:19 PM
Setting: At the PBP house in the early part of summer. Parker's stopped by a little while before work to spend time with Carrie but also... to get some help covering the just visible hickey peeking out from the collar of his work shirt.
*sitting on her bed* "Lorenzo told me putting a cold spoon on the spot helps? If it doesn't, I dunno, do you have make-up that could cover it?"
Jul 15 2017, 09:00 PM
and i can smell the sentiment on your breath TB Degawa
#homelessness #religion/religious imagery
This time last year Parker was driving his car from New York to Maine, just a few days after his mother’s birthday in what turned out to be a much harder drive emotionally than he anticipated it would be, unintentionally drawing it out into a two day trip. He remembers where he parked his car to sleep the first night he got into town, and the general areas where he continued to do the same for several more nights until the man that owns the pottery shop let him crash on his couch. Not long after, the summer dorms opened up for early move-in, and it was the first time in over a year that he wasn’t living out of his suitcase with most of his belongings hidden away in his car.
He didn’t expect the timing of these events to impact him as much as they did, didn’t want to remember it being as bad as it was, but recently his bad dreams have started turning back into night terrors. Last night the devil spoke through the flaming image of the parish priest he remembers from his first year of primary school, and upon waking up this morning he was struck by a high fever that a cold shower did nothing to help.
It’s a strange sort of hopelessness that brings him to one of Catholic churches in town about an hour or so later.
(He doesn’t want comfort from this.)
And (so) it’s an even stranger, uneasy disappointment that drives him to rush out of the service early, too overwhelmed to bear it any longer. He’s not sure why he expected anything else.
Parker struggles to calm his breath as he quickly makes his way around to the back parking lot of the building where Carrie’s car is, briefly pausing when he comes across a pair of dumpsters. Reaching his hands up to his neck, Parker roughly pulls off his cross necklace and throws it hard into one of the dumpsters, making a loud noise as it ricochets off the metal interior and then impacts into something solid. He continues walking.
(If only it were that easy to rid himself of this.)
Parker slams the car door closed after he slides into the front seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly and leaning forward with a frustrated sigh as he rests his forehead against his hands. He feels even more pissed off at himself over the necklace. Hating that he stole it before leaving, that he’s held onto it for so long, that he’s worn it so often like it means
anything to him. He hates that he knows he needs to go back for it, too, that it means more than he’d like to admit. So the car door swings opens again as Parker reluctantly steps out, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it once he’s closed the door and started walking back towards the church.
“This is such fuckin’ bullshite,” he mutters to himself, ashing off the end of his cigarette and holding it between his lips again as he approaches the dumpster. He grabs onto the side so he can hoist himself up to start looking, but the moment he does he’s met with a face and he just about jumps out of his skin as he startles and backs up, dropping his cigarette onto the ground-- "Fuckin' hell!
Jun 25 2017, 03:56 PM
It’s a chilly Saturday night in late April. Parker takes a drink of almost straight vodka to rid the taste of ash from his mouth and wash the dull sheen of guilt from his thoughts.
He grimaces from the burn as it goes down and makes his stomach churn uncomfortably - turns it to a smile when he notices Adlai look at him, his stomach churning again, but different. Parker sits cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against his bed with a deck of cards spread out next to him, completely forgotten about while folk punk music plays from his laptop in the background as he tells Adlai about the boy that gave him the scar on the back of his head and what the hospital was like when he was getting the staples removed from his scalp.
(It’s a conversation stemming from last weekend when Adlai cut his hair for him. Short around the sides and back, unintentionally a bit choppy but he doesn’t hate it. Carrie complimented it, but he can’t tell Adlai that. He tries not to talk about her when spending time with him and tries not to think about the reasons why.)
Cher and Max have seemingly left for the weekend to spend time with family as they usually do and Dominic is at his friends’ dorm. Parker’s been drinking since before Adlai came over per their plans, since before noon, even. He was also drunk last night and all through Tuesday too, but Adlai doesn’t know that. He doesn’t need to. The music lulls and Adlai laughs softly, feeling so... far away as Parker finishes his drink, trying not to gag. Trying to keep it down with everything else that hurts too much, like he has with everything these past few months.
“But yeah, sorry I got weird about it. I guess... I dunno, I just forgot about it?” Parker rests his hand against the back of is head, still unused to the feeling of his hair being this short. “Feels like it’s a lot more obvious than it prob’ly actually is,” he confesses, the words slurring together with a crooked, forced smile.
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