Also, don't feel too bad for Pickles. He did bring a lot of these problems onto him self with his irresponsible behavior. It feels kind of weird a silly character with too tragic of a back-story, so I wanted to make it partially his fault.
Maybe Violet Reaper shouldn't defend Pickles, but kind of distract Angel Grace? I can see Violet Reaper saying:
"Uh, I do not have time for these petty squabbles. When do we get to do heroic stuff?" or something along those lines.
Mrs. Pickles was surprised by how personable the Guardian was. He had expected heroes to be more… different. He always imagined them to be either openly arrogant or have a certain presence that made them seem significantly more important than the others in the room. But the Guardian clearly talked to Mrs. Pickles as an equal, and he didn’t feel like it was just because he had slaughtered a Crab Monster with an elevator. As the Guardian talked about a banquet, Mrs. Pickles started to become confused. He remembered Dreadlock (mostly because of her moderately obscure superpower) but wasn’t sure why he’d make extra for Dreadlock. His first assumption was correct- she had been hurt, and this was confirmed by the shrieks of Angel Grace, who he hadn’t noticed approaching.
At first, Clarence felt sorry for the Guardian. He realized that the mistake had put someone in a dangerous situation, but he was pretty sure that he didn't need somebody reinforcing the guilt with physical pain. Then, he remembered his... uneasy... relationship with Angel Grace.
The memories of urinating in the garden were shaky. What Clarence really remembered was the morning afterwards. Mostly, the hangover. But soon, memories of his mother shouting at him started to return as well…
“I can’t believe you urinated… in a church!” exclaimed his mother.
“Actually, it was their garden. I wasn’t technically in the church… just, you know… on the property…”
“Do you know how upset I was to get that call? You know how much the church matters to me! And you never even go!”
“I can’t. I’m too busy…”
“Doing what?”
“Looking for a job.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Clarence shrugged.
Clarence’s mother shook her head and muttered something under her breath. “You’d think going out to all these parties you’d be able to at least find some nice girl, but all you seem to care about is goofing off and getting wasted,” she said.
Clarence shrugged and tried to ignore his pounding headache.
“You’re not going to parties, are you?”
Clarence shrugged again.
“You’re just drinking. Alone. Am I wrong?”
Clarence shrugged, and his mother flung up her hands, “Well, you’re going to have to be sober Wednesday.”
“Why? What’s Wednesday?”
“Cecilia has soccer practice.”
“I don’t think she likes soccer practice.”
“Well, she has to do something. All she does is sit at home and draw pictures. We don’t want her to become an antisocial alcoholic.”
Clarence was enraged. "Alcoholic? I’m not an alcoholic. I’m just… I just drink a lot.”
Clarence’s mother sighed, exasperated, and left him to sleep off his hangover. That Wednesday, only a few days later, Clarence wouldn't drive his sister to soccer practice. He’d be at some bar, drinking, and with his cell phone turned off.
His parents did drive his sister to soccer practice. He didn't realize until Thursday, when he had slunk back into the house at five in the morning, that they didn't make it to soccer practice that day…
Angel Grace spoke to Violet Reaper softly, and Mrs. Pickles began to calm down. Maybe she had forgotten about the incid… oh, no. She remembered. She remembered alright… His face fell as her rage built. He was both embarrassed and horrified.
“... How durable are you?” asked Angel Grace. It certainly did not take a genius to know that she was mad. Very, very, mad.
How durable was he? What kind of a question was that? She wasn't going to actually… or was she? He hadn't heard from her since his parent’s funeral… she had never really gotten revenge…
Clarence thought about his response carefully. He was in a tough spot, and he also had to stay on her good side. He remembered that she technically had some sort of custody of his younger siblings. Finally, he spoke as he slowly backed away from the enraged hero. “I've been on a… stressful elevator ride, punched by a scientist and tackled by a Chimera today. Maybe you shouldn't use the hammer… I’m sorry about your garden. But I have changed!”
Clarence quickly realized that was obviously a lie. He had not shaved in a week or two, and his face was covered in unattractive whiskers. He still smelled like alcohol. The clothes he was wearing were tattered from his fight with the Chimera. He had just arrived from prison. He was also completely homeless. He only had about forty-five dollars, some clothes, a hunting rifle, his mother’s box and a little bit of alcohol to his name. And these were all kept in the suitcase that he was currently toting around with him. He had lost control of his siblings. He didn't even have a job! If he had changed, it had been for the worse.
Guilty, Mrs. Pickles scratched the back of his head and looked at the ground. “Uh…. well… I've tried to change.” He felt the wall and he realized that he was backed into the corner.
Even in peak medical condition, Mrs. Pickles would barely be able touch Angel Grace in a fight. Now, he just stood still, looking at the floor, prepared to accept his fate.
@FallenTrinity@SpookySquid So, I should wait before posting right? Not that Reaper will react that much besides raising an eyebrow and taking a meager step out of the way...
Sorry, but it will probably be awhile until I can have a post up... also, the Guardian's personality kind of reminds me of Brock's from Pokemon for some reason. Maybe it's the cooking? Honestly, I have no idea.
Ah, Ukraine. Mrs. Pickles had done a project about Ukraine once for school. However, he re remembered almost nothing about it. It was sort of like Russia. But it wasn't Russia. At all. Reminding himself that Violet Reaper didn't seem to be a fan of chit-chat, he nodded in response to her answer and remained silent for the rest of the trip.
Surprisingly, Clarence enjoyed the company of silent people. Although they were definitely judging you, just like every other person, they wouldn't openly criticize you. Although Clarence was usually open to hearing criticism, general tips about how to live life were annoying. He already knew that he was doing that wrong, and didn't need somebody reminding him.
Clarence also noted that the hero was attractive, like most heterosexual males. However, Clarence was far too clueless and busy for girls. Clarence knew he'd make a terrible boyfriend, as he'd be far too preoccupied by his two pastimes. Taking care of his family, and drinking.
Mrs. Pickles spent most of the ride staring out of the window and thinking about how this whole hero thing was going to work and quickly realized that at least one of four things would have to happen for his life to work out.
1. He'd have to research and figure out a way to get super powers. Fast. 2. He'd have to find someone to train him. Fast. 3. He'd have to stumble upon a useful and extremely powerful weapon or artifact. The his mother had given him was great for party tricks but not much else, and the hunting rifle could only do so much. 4. He'd have to give up and find another job.
Right now, option one seemed the most appealing. Mrs. Pickles made a mental note to go to the library at some point, or at least ask around about how some people had gained their powers. Then, the police cruiser came to a stop and Mrs. Pickles realized that he was at HQ.
Clarence hopped out of the vehicle, impressed by the building. However, he had seen enough photos to avoid embarrassing himself by audibly gasping at the large headquarters. Then, Clarence realized something horrifying. This wasn't just climbing through the ranks. This wasn't a Class C jumping up two or three ranks. Usually, Class Cs who ranked up by only a few slots were sent an email or a letter. This was a significant climb in the ranks.
Mrs. Pickles tried not to gulp as he and Violet Reaper walked up the stairs quietly as several heroes, number crunchers, and other individuals walked in and out of HQ. Upon entry, Mrs. Pickles saw a woman exiting the lobby, but did not know it was to retrieve Angel Grace. A young man with sharp looking suit and tie strode over to the two heroes.
He looked at Violet Reaper and smiled politely. "Hello Violet Reaper," he said. Although the man didn't literally bow, he was so polite and sincere that he seemed to. He looked at Clarence.
"And you must be..." he paused, "...Mrs. Pickles." Clarence nodded. The man smirked. "So, you're the one that defeated a Chimera and managed to slay the crab monster?" Clarence slowly nodded.
The young man seemed prepared to lead them to the lobby but then hesitated. "Erm... if you don't mind me asking... what powers do you have, exactly?"
Clarence had enough experience lying, so his lie came quickly and naturally. "Ah, my powers are a bit complex. I'll spare you the details of a boring and confusing explanation."
The man nodded, understanding. "Fair enough. I'm sure we'll have time later to discuss them in detail." Hopefully not.
The man walked Violet Reaper and Mrs. Pickles to the lobby where the Guardian was already waiting. An S RANK! thought Mrs. Pickles. He recognized the Guardian immediately. He, like most citizens, could recognize the majority of S ranked heroes with ease. Upon entering the room, something at the back of Mrs. Pickles mind reminded him about previous run ins with the church and vaguely recalled that the Guardian was associated with them, but he dismissed these thoughts as he extended a hand to the hero. As long as Angel Grace didn't show up, he'd be fine. "Erm... hello. I'm Cla-Mrs. Pickles. It's nice to meet you."
Oh, I just realized I kind of misread your post, so it is down to us two. Oops... I'll start working on a post and try and have it up within the next two or three hours.
