The first two posts in this thread were cut and pasted from this thread due to clutter: viewtopic.php?f=13&t=332&p=3059#p3059
This thread exists to allow a development of character for Gregory, if I so should see fit to use it. Participation in this thread is open! Please PM me first before posting.
Paladin Residence; 1430 Hours
Outskirts of Clinton, Iowa; Old United States, Earth
Three(3) months before arrival on the USS Portland
AUTHORS: MCPO Gregory Paladin
"Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?"
The question caught Gregory off guard. The afternoon sun bore down on him harder than he remembered as a child, and the lack of humidity helped little in quelling his condition. The off-duty Master Chief Petty Officer had been working on an old tractor unit for his fathers farm, just concluding his work as he had let down the hatch only to be startled by the question from behind him. His body was drenched from head to toe with sweat, a careful wipe of his wrist only smudging grease into the droplets on his forehead. He blinked, ignoring the stinging that came thereafter, turning to look at his father.
"Thought you wanted some chores done, Pa." Gregory had answered with a smile. He looked on as his father approached, the eighty-two year old man wearing overalls with a shirt - and probably nothing else underneath - with a set of well worn work boots. He looked much like Gregory, as would be expected, though more aged and with a more stern expression. The elder Paladin did not return the smile.
"You know what I meant, boy," Arytiss Paladin said, motioning a hand toward the tractor. "You come home and Ma has you doing chores already, then you blame it on me. Gosh darn it, son, I told you that vacations were for relaxin', not workin'!"
Gregory maintained his smile. His father caught him there. It was his mother that wanted the tractor worked on. Samantha was caring, though slightly manipulative in her methods in such caring. When something needed done, she was always the first to ask, though in what fashion she asked always seemed to change. Regardless, the majority of her requests seemed to lean towards helping Arytiss and the home rather than hinder, so Gregory had no right to complain about her, or his father. With a casual turn, he opened the small tool chest he had carried over, returning a wrench he had been holding into its confines. Closing the lid, he lifted it, turning back to face his father.
"Alright Pa," he said, maintaining his smile. "I'm heading away from doing any work. I promise, this time."
"See that you do, boy," Arytiss said. He then reached for the tool chest. Gregory handed it over without resistance. "I'll get the rest of the darned chores your Ma wants done, and you-" he emphasized by pointing a finger at Gregory "-go relax."
"Right away, Pa."
Gregory knew the truth of the matter. His father and mother considered him an adult, and fully respected his decisions in life. Yet he was residing in their home which, at one time, was his. By that right, they had every right - in their minds - to treat him like his younger self. They never seemed to cross the line between respect and authority, and much of it revolved around the manner in which his recent interaction with his father had concluded in, so for the most part Gregory never complained. He knew they loved him.
Waving to his brother as he passed on one of farm trucks, Gregory set about to the guest room; the guest room specifically set aside for Gregory when he decided to return home. He needed a shower, an old fashioned one. Water always seemed to do better than the sonic pulses did.