Dealing With Failure [Solomon/Violet]

It was hot as hell by the time the afternoon hit. Violet was in the backyard of her new home, trying to figure some of this stupid Quincy shit out on her own. So, wasting her time. Summon your spirit weapon. Do this, do that. Fuck Quincy bullshit. None of it made any sense. And what was up with these dumbass German names? Speak one and it sounds like you're having a hard time sneezing.

"DAMN IT." Violet yelled in frustration, the third time in the last ten minutes. She was likely irritating the neighbors. Luckily, there was some distance between houses.

There wasn't much in her backyard yet, but she grabbed whatever she could and threw it at an old tree. First was a potted plant she just bot, then a couple of rocks, and of course a whole fucking chair. She ended up on her ass with that last one, sitting in the dirt, knees up, and gripping her hair as if she were ready to tear it from her own scalp. She was breathing heavily, angrily, and her eyes focused on dirt.

Outside of nearly losing his life multiple times in the span of a single day, Solomon was in relatively good spirits. He had walked away from his training with Hannah with an ideal vision for where he wished to take his abilities moving forward. The art of the quincy was more than just rushing in without a gameplan, and although he probably would preferred to avoid the three brushes with death to learn that lesson, he still held the battle as a sufficient memory to reflect on for the future. He recognized that while he surpassed most of his peers in natural talent, he was something of a work in progress even now.

By no means was that a strike against his pride, though. Simply food for thought more than anything else. It was time to visit the other people in his life. He had provided one woman with a home, but his focus was set on one specific lady in general. Violet Gardener. Somewhere within the spiritual depths of his soul, he thought the woman a brat.

On the other hand, he understood her background enough to excuse it. It was kind of endearing in a way. He preferred woman with some fire and substance to them than none at all, after all. Wearing a pair of sunglasses, along with a reasonably comfortable black coat and pants, Solomon could hear the seemingly endless wave of ruckus as he approached her house. Yep, she was home. There was no doubt about it. Part of him wondered if he ought to knock, but she sounded pretty frustrated as it were, and simply used Hirenkyaku to shift his body toward her location, hovering above a platform of reishi as he gazed down at the woman. Grinning softly, he waved his hand.

"Having trouble?"

Violet was roughly running her hands through her hair out of frustration by the time he spoke up. She tensed, jumped to her feet, and looked up at the blue eyed bird floating above her head. Her mind worked quickly and calmed down. There was a brief moment where yelling at him for scaring her was the goal, but this was the first time since this man bought her a fucking house. She can't yell now!!

Violet grit her teeth and took a deep inhale through her nose before speaking like she was struggling to move her jaw. "What. Are. You. Up there. For?" If you ignored the mess she just made in the backyard, Violet seemed more stable. She was clean, wore nice clothes, and her hair was actually brushed. She even wore perfume, though he likely couldn't smell that from his current distance.

"I overheard you causing a ruckus at the front door. Naturally, I was a little worried you were having a panic attack of some sort, but I'm glad that isn't the case. That's why I chose flight over knocking and entering the door."

Solomon chuckled softly, noting the irritation in the woman's expression. He couldn't really pinpoint what she was attempting here, but the small increments of reishi told him all he needed to know. She was attempting to cultivate her skill in the Quincy Arts. Solomon drew in the ambient wisps of energy, transmuting it into the shape of a small arrow. Toying around with the small artifice, Solomon cast his gaze toward the mess in the distance.

"Training, I presume?"

"Training? Ha! What the hell would Violet Gardner be training for?" Violet said. She stood up and kicked another potted plant hard enough that it shattered and the soil inside spread along the grass. "Wasting my time training... Like I would do that. Useless, stupid, worthless, fucking bitch." Every insult she spat was about herself.

Violet looked back up at Solomon, breathing heavily. "What? You gonna stay up there all day, or you gonna get your ass inside and have a lemonade or something?"

Violet wiped sweat from her brow and headed back into the house, leaving the backdoor open for Solomon. She already had some lemonade made, along with a few home-baked cookies. She set the plate of cookies out and poured him a glass. "So, are you just checkin' on me, or you wanting to finish that lame ass date?"

"Two things. The destruction of this house or to cultivate your potential with the quincy arts." He answered with a humorous retort.

Solomon was well-equipped by now for this woman's particular brand of ferocity. She was a firecracker in every sense of the word, one who was liable to pop at any moment. Of course, while he did find it tempting to antagonize her during her mood, he could relate to the frustration that arose during a failed training session. As such, he simply accepted her invite, following the woman into the her house to enjoy a cold cup of lemonade and a few freshly baked cookies. He oft preferred washing his cookies down with milk, but this would suffice well enough, he supposed. Biting into a cookie, he softly rolled his eyes as he leaned on the counter, an azure gaze of exasperation. She was still holding that against him? Well, perhaps that was t obe expected. Sharing the story with his female peers had earned him his fair share of glares and disappointed expressions.

"No, I dare not invite the ire of the Violent Violet. To answer your question, I was visiting to check on you. See how you've adapted to living in this new household. Beyond whatever that was in the backyard, has everything been to your liking?"

Hearing her nickname, Violet snort-laughed at the worst time she could imagine. In taking a sip of lemonade, it retaliated and came out her nose. She coughed and fought to breathe. The intense burning sensation brought Violet to the sink, trying to wash out whatever she can. Eyes watering, she grabbed a paper towel and dried her face off, specifically around her nose. She groaned in pain.

"Ohh, that hurt. Citrus in the nose is pure evil... It burnt so bad," Violet said, eyes now red. "And yeah, everything's been great, Solomon. Thanks. Been a while since I could just be at peace somewhere... Believe it or not, even got that job I told you about. Nothin' special, but I can start paying my own groceries... and have bought a few things for the house. It's no mansion, but it's mine. Thanks to you, of course."

"And please don't." Violet waved the backyard stuff off, clearly upset. "Don't make fun of me for that, okay? It's my backyard, I can kick a plant or throw a chair..." Violet sighed and walked over to the couch in the living area. She plopped down and laid her head back. "The only thing I do right is make lemonade..."

"Happy to hear that. I'm glad to see you've been making out well with your living arrangements so far. Hopefully you've found a job that you feel comfortable with."

Solomon had aimed to offer some lighthearted humor, though his plan backfired when she snorted lemonade through her nose. The sting of citrus was never pleasant. Solomon allowed her a moment to regain her composure, chewing absentmindedly on a cookie. He wasn't particularly attempting to antagonize the woman for her progress, turning his head to face the woman as she settled onto the couch. To reiterate, he was quite familiar with the frustration that came with fruitless training. Even for his current skill, he was far from a level he felt wholly content with. It was a less than enviable position for a man who sought to attain a strength worthy of protecting his loved ones.

"No need to worry about that. I have no desire to antagonize you over your progress, Violet. It's nothing less than lighthearted humor on my end. I know you despise receiving false encouragement, but there are resources I can offer if your truly intent on learning what it means to be a Quincy. Everything is a process. That's always something we all must be mindful in life. It may surprise you, but I'm not always so composed of mind during my own training."

"It's just a retail job at this bath products store," Violet explained. "You know, soaps, perfumes, wash clothes, towels, hair products... It's all that kind of thing."

Certain subjects pushed Violet's buttons, and that was one of them. Training to be a Quincy, even though Violet swore she wasn't one, was the most difficult task. She wasn't even sure why she was doing it since she had no intention on ever seeing he family again. Trying to please them now was kind of pathetic.

Violet took in one of those deep and relaxing breaths. As she let it out, she turned to Solomon with a small smile. "Believe it or not, I'm not always an angry, tantrum throwing bitch," she said, chuckling. "I've never gotten this Quincy thing. The meaning of being a Quincy just... I don't know. I don't get it. Doubt I ever will."

"Though... What resources do you have that my parents don't?"

"Patience for one."

Solomon uttered those words firmly, his eyes emblematic of the conviction Violet found annoying in their first meeting. He didn't personally know her mother or father, but there had to be a significant reason for her to run away from their household, to purposely choose living a life wandering around the streets and pickpocketing random passerby.

There were two sides to every story, of course, but Solomon could certainly relate to almost any personal issue concerning family. To this day, he was not on conversational terms with his father. He visited when he was required, foregoing any form of visitation otherwise. The man had done nothing to slight him in particular, but

Solomon could not abide what he viewed as passive behavior. From his point of view, his father was a weak-minded man. Someone who valued the glory of the richter name over the solidarity of the family he built. Tch... this train of thought was growing stressful. Violet was the focus of his curiosity. It was better to reflect on what was going on with her.

"More precisely, the resources I have is peers and I myself personally who can walk you through the process, where you are allowed as much time as you need. If you so desire, of course. Even if you never pursue it entirely, you still have my support no matter what. No need to push yourself. Your parents aren't here. There is no one around to appease but yourself."