Note: I have reversed the age of Mordecai by four years in each Flashback.
The legal age of drinking as been altered to the same age to smoke in the United States: which is Eighteen.
Rise: From the Ashes
Trigger Warnings:
Extreme Grieving Of Death
Addiction/Narcotic Abuse
Alcohol mentioning.
Torture
Self-Harm
Hallucination.
PTSD
Ruthless Violence
Depression, Anxiety, Psychotic, and Paranoia.
More additions will be added as the story goes on.
Prologue: Quarters
Mordecai's heart couldn't beat any faster if it hadn't already been pumping a million miles every so decade, a strange hum built up in the park worker's ears. The workings of both fear and despair hung thick and inedible inside of his throat. Each word processed through his head, how the hell was he going to explain this to the others? If Mordecai could breath right now, he would be wailing at the top of his lungs, but any air fly into his burning lungs? No, he couldn't breath without reading it again again, it just restricts him from doing so.
Mordecai finally drew a sharp breath as he started to finally read the paper over again, looking for any sort of mistake, or blemish to allow him the solace of this being a nightmare. The bluejay even licked the paper to test it was there, and he got the bitter and inky taste in his mouth that he took twelve minutes to spit out. The even thought of this paper being real seemed to pull Mordecai from his own reality, as if he's been pushed out of his window of sanity and meant to be perished in the cold and dark space. Heh, just as Rigby did that time they had to hold on to the Microwave and...
Actually, let's not go back to that memory.
Mordecai reread the paper, allowing himself to be dolled into how nicely refined the postcard looked, on how good the paper itself looks actual font of the words that stained on it. It wasn't printed out, oh no. It looked like someone took the courtesy of actually taking a typewriter and making the letter actually seem personal, which touched him deeply. Despite his inevitable doom looming over his shoulder, as if someone took a cross and placed it on the end of his heart and just stuck it in and he was slowly bleeding to death. Each word haunted him.
If there's anything that I hate about this damn country, is that we try to police the entire world as if we own the streets; and it leads to us fucking about with diplomat. Draft laws.
The paper that Mordecai was holding, was his Formal Demands. The demand was he enlist into the military, for reasoning is a experimental training program that would prove the the Psychiatrists that the average mind can be as strong as the most harden, ruthless, and spiteful cynic on the Earth. Mordecai would have to be in deployment for two years, one year for training. Mordecai could just rip the paper, and claim that he never saw it; except... some prying minds like to look into his mail, such as a certain Gumball Machine, and find out what he gets. If it wasn't as serious as today, Mordecai would be incredibly pissed.
The blue jay looked outside to the night sky; It's been three days since he's gotten the note, and it just seems to be dragged on. Today was his birthday, and he's done everything he could think off with Rigby without leaving the city. High speed Cart-riding, laser-tag, coffee drinking game, swimming (which was an utter disaster, it involved Mordecai getting CPR from a really muscled guy with a green Mohawk). Mordecai sighed and leaned back into his bed, wallowing won't help now. It's set in stone, and there was nothing that he could do a bout it. Mordecai leaned back and his aching back hit the double mattress.
Mordecai looked onto the bed desk, and there was a bottle of gum. Not any sort of gum, Nicotine gum. This sort of gum wasn't just like those ones you find in the corner store, this one was actual gun that tasted like gum. Mordecai was using it for three months now, and nothing other than what the side affects promised it would do. Just slight nightmares, and slight heart burn. However, Tums can contradict that. Mordecai didn't care, will care, about the nightmares, they can't hurt him unlike the kind of crap he's seen in the past being at this damn park.
Mordecai reached for it, grabbing the blueish bottle and popped the latch off. They were partnered with the Ice Cubes brand gum, so they tasted like sour apples, but they were easy to open. Mordecai popped three into his mouth and sighed, feeling the peppery and sort of tingly sense onto my tongue. Mordecai shifted the gum between his cheek and his gums. Allowing the nicotine to flow through his bloodstream, Mordecai felt the stimulant course through his systems and gave him the sort of pleasant sensation. Mordecai cared for his health he hasn't and never planned on smoking a cigarette or cigar. the blue jay dislikes alcohol equally as he hates getting punched in the stomach.
Mordecai preferred the bubbly alcoholic drinks that would get him a few winks from the few men on the booth corner. Even so, Mordecai enjoyed wine- but never indulges himself too far to the point of being intoxicated. It just never been his source of fun, unlike many young men at his age of twenty. It just seemed to his other friends, the meaning of live at such a young age is to exercise, get drunk, party, ecstasy, and deflowering female virgins. Have a three way with one of your guys and your 'g-bitch' if you so wished. The last time Mordecai had ecstasy, he woke up in a motel cuddled to a blue and yellow female macaw who was all the happy with waking up with a hangover to a random blue jay who was stoned when they hooked up.
Well, we never spoke another word after that day. I haven't taken that club drug for ages...
Mordecai swallowed the gum, either out of carelessness, or the fact he doesn't want to go downstairs chewing Nicotine gum. Mordecai's done this for a while, so stomach aches doesn't hurt him as much as it did when he accidentally swallowed the gum and went incapacitated out of sheer pain in the stomach. Mordecai seethed out of his bed and rubbed his eyes, and opened the door. He closed it behind him, and went down the hall and descended the stairs. Mordecai noticed his shaky wings/arms weren't acting up and shaking uncontrollably.
It was quiet downstairs, way too quiet. Mordecai growled internally, Benson told them surely. Mordecai noticed the clock reading twelve o'clock sharp, three hours since he received the letter in his PO box. Benson always goes through his shit as if he was the parole office and Mordecai was on House Arrest, there was no privacy for his own mail either. It really pissed him off lately when he realized that he's never had anything for him to know himself, because if he so much as stays out past ten; Benson has to ask him where he's been and who he was with.
Last time I checked, I was a groundskeeper— not a gangbanger!
Mordecai noticed that the lights were off, and he wondered why. The lights were usually never off, even at night there is at least a bright light shining through the windows. Mordecai, with the biggest bored look he ever had possible, went to the door and reached up to the light switch. Mordecai heard snickering and his eyes narrowed, but a smile was growing on his face.He switched the light up and a roar of praise flooded his ears. Two words rung unanimously, all around him and broke this cold stone he's been feeling for the entire day.
Two very words he's not heard for a while.
"Happy Birthday!"
It's been four years since Mordecai last stepped onto the Park, much less anywhere else that seemed familiar. The park was neatly cleaned, Mordecai didn't see a trace of gum on the sidewalk. There was graffiti on trees, but it looked like someone took the initiative to try and clean it off. Mordecai was truly impressed on the condition of the park that was left in. Mordecai hummed at the new door that blocked his entrance to the Park, there was a sign on the gate door that read Closed for Privacy Reasonings.
Dammit, Mordecai thought, Never could do things the easy way!
Mordecai pulled at the latch and hummed at it being locked, it was midday January. Mordecai looked around, and noticed a dumpster nearby. The former solider looked around him and smiled shortly at the lack of people, it should make his job getting in easier. Mordecai was wearing a blue and white hoodie, which matched the pattern of his feathers. He had a black neck-warmer, as it was cold day. Mordecai was also had a bag on his back, filled with shirts, canned food, and a canteen with a filter. Mordecai lifted his hood and let it drape over his head, his neck-warmer now pulled up to the hole for his beak to go through.
Mordecai heaved and pushed the dumpster a reasonable distance from the door, the blue jay smiled and took a few steps back. Mordecai knew he couldn't clear the gate-door, because of the stone sign, but he could go over the sides of it. Mordecai sprinted towards the side of the gate entrance, hoped off the ground, and he shot from the dumpster. The gate rattled slightly as his arms landed on it. Mordecai kicked off from the bars and flung his legs over the top and rolled when he landed on the ground. The blue jay was certain they raised the gate slightly since he left.
Mordecai lowered his neck warmer from his face and walked strolled around the park.
"Hey! You can't be here!"
Mordecai looked behind him in a bored gaze. It was a red robin, she donned a blue sweater with faded jeans. The female robin had a bulge in her sweater pocket, the same size as a thick stick. She has a baton. The blue jay looked forward again, he was really hoping he would get the sense of nostalgia to last. Mordecai lowered his hood and hummed an apology, he growled at the growing pain in his chest, the stinging sensation started to form around his chest. The blue jay reached in his bag's side pockets and pulled out the nicotine gum capsule in the noticeable Ice Cubes gum container, and he took three pieces and casually tossed them in his mouth.
"Looks different..." Mordecai hummed, feeling the stinging in his chest increase the more he speaks. "Doesn't it, Margaret?"
"How do you know my name.. Just who are you?" Margaret scowled, slowly reaching into her sweater pocket. Mordecai took a glance at her name tag, so he know's her name and that she's a groundskeeper, but he doesn't recognize this person. Mordecai had his hands in his jacket's pocket. He was pretty sure this female meant business; this was proven by the reasoning she was reaching in her jacket, and brought out the metal stick.
"Did you hear about the rose that grew from concrete?" He murmured, hearing the shift in her stance, as the robin swung the baton and missed terribly. Mordecai ducked under her next swing, the blue-jay was moving in quick and fluid motions, as for her attacks: Sloppy and adjusted.
I sighed; Never could do things the easy way!
I grabbed her attacking wrist and twisted the limb and she dropped the metal weapon, I swooped quickly to pick it up. Feeling the object in his hand gave his feathers on the back of my neck a trilby shock. Mordecai's heart raced and his eyes widen, it was like someone took a defibrillator to his neck with a steel wool rag attached to each of his pecs. Mordecai breathed shakily. He dropped the baton and he grabbed her arm, swept her legs, and let her fall on the grass.
Mordecai looked down, and their eyes met, even in her pained and exhilarated state.
"Mordecai?!"
