Stanley Gracefield, sat on a comfortable leather brown reclinable arm chair in the middle of a mostly brown wooden room. He was positioned directly in front of a woman wearing thin glasses, light makeup, and casual business attire. He looked around the room, and took into account everything dangerous about it. The room was of an adequate size; big enough to fit a desk, a television set, a few paintings depicting some kind of human struggle, a couple wooden shelves completely stocked with books, a grandfather clock, and two arm chairs that look the exact same. The staplers, the pencils, the ticking clock hands, the fine china that was displayed inside a wooden container with a glass panel in the front; it all made him oddly comfortable. Even the foreign designed pattern on the carpet that took up most of the flooring in the room, made him feel right at home.

"Can you answer the question Stanley," the woman spoke shifting her position on the chair. Stanley stopped looking around the room and focused on her. He chuckled before rubbing his chin with his hand. "Can you repeat the question for me please," he mumbled as he hung his head low.

"What led you to be on that roof?"

"Which one," he chuckled raising his head and showing off his smile to the woman, "I've went on many roofs in my lifetime. I'm a vigilante after all!"

"The one where you attempted to kill yourself."

Stanley's smile dropped as the ticking of the grandfather clock seemed to grow louder in this silent room. "Stanley, I'm not going to ask this again. We are both trying to help you. You came here because you wanted to get help. So help me help you, answer the questions, let's have a conversation. Human to human. In this room, our oddities are not what defines us. It's our actions that do."

"What is your oddity," Stanley replied fixing his posture on the arm chair.

"That information is not necessary for our current session."

Stanley scuffs, "You want to have a conversation, let's have it. This world sucks, and I hate living in it. Is that a good enough conversation starter?"

"What do you dislike about it?"

"Everything! The government hates us and wants to use us as some kind of product. Calling people with powers Odd, wasn't enough, they had to separate us with titles like heroes and villains. And if that wasn't enough they had to tie it directly into families."

"Did you come from a hero family Stanley?"

"Are you joking?"

"No? Why would I joke in a situation like this?"

"Cause you have my files, you should know everything about me." Stanley stood up and acted as though he was presenting something, "Introducing, Stanley Gracefield, the product of two great supervillains in a lineage known for producing them, who lives in the worst possible part of the city!"

"That's what the files say about you, but what do you say you are?"

Stanley paused his movements, and slowly sat back down. He raised his right leg over his left and rested his head back. The ticking clock rang in his head as he brought his head back to face the woman. "Dr. Thomas, I am Mr. Morale."

"Hello, Mr. Morale," Dr. Thomas smiled, "What made you come up with that name?"

The year was 2016, 4 years before Stanley would find himself in Dr. Thomas' office. A couple months before his life would steer him into the path of vigilantism, and on a day where he found himself fighting with his rival at the time, Derrick Damien. School had just finished for the day and Stanley had challenged Derrick to a fight. There were 3 reasons to why he did so.

The first reason was, "Derrick is a massive dick head and I wanted to beat him up for being one," Stanley explained to Dr. Thomas. The second reason was, "he had a crush on my girlfriend." The third reason was, "He was making fun of me for not being able to control my oddity. When I was trying to take my Oddity suppression meds for the day, he pushed me and I dropped all of the pills onto the floor. It was at that moment that I screamed out to him."

Stanley pointed his finger at Derrick while he snickered with his friends shortly after Stanley tried to pick up all the pills. "I've had it with you! I'm tired of your shit Derrick! Meet me at the flag pole after school!" The flag pole was an actual flag pole in the middle of the courtyard of their school. It was 30 feet tall and towered over most students, that weren't Odd anyway. This was a common meeting place for students, who were both Odd and normal. Derrick turned around and smiled after hearing Stanley screech at him, there were only two reasons why someone would be called to meet at the flag pole.

"Are we going on a date Gracefield," he laughed as he put his hand on Stanley's shoulder. Derrick was taller than him, so Stanley was forced to look up, grit his teeth, and declare the second reason why someone would be called to meet at the flag pole, "I'm going to beat your ass."

After the final school bell rang for the day, everyone poured out of the building, while most stayed to watch the fight, others left to go home. The first to arrive was Stanley who, despite his short stature, seemed to be taller than everyone around him. His head ached as his withdrawal started kicking in from not using his medication that morning. As he stood in front of the flag pole, he began hearing people yell at him, "Villain! Stan the man, don't get beat now! Gracefield!"

Derrick showed up a few minutes later and everyone cheered as they yelled at him, "Let's go wonder-boy. Spin him! Show that villain how heroes work! Beat that Oddball up!" As Derrick made his way to Stanley, Stanley took the time to look at who exactly called him an Oddball.

"Gracefield. Let's make this quick. My mom is making me spaghetti." Stanley twisted his head over to Derrick. He brought both of his fists up to his face and glared at him. Derrick laughed, "Is that how you Crimson folks like to fight? We Odds in the Kitchen rather fight with our oddities."

Derrick Damien had the oddity of gravity. He had the ability to increase the gravitational pull of his own body, and like a magnet he pulled Stanley over to him. Stanley's feet dragged across the ground as he tried to resist the pull. As Stanley got closer, Derrick swung his fist back and threw it right in Stanley's face the moment he got close enough. Blood gushed out of his nose, and the crowd cheered. Derrick smiled and raised both of his arms up to hype up the crowd.

"While I laid there on the ground, I was so upset at myself. If only I had not listened to my mother and father, and actually tried to learn more about my oddity. Maybe I'll stand a chance against one of the great Damiens. I mean my father was his father's arch nemesis. Which was probably why I even got a chance to go to school in Heaven's Kitchen. If not I would have had to go to a school that taught me how to not feel as bad for slowly becoming a villain."

"Stanley"

"It's Mr. Morale."

"Mr. Morale, I'm sure if you went to a school in Crimson Village nothing would have changed. You would have still wanted to be a hero correct?"

"No. Maybe? I don't know. If I went to a school in Crimson Village, I would have never been able to meet her."

"Who is her?"

Stanley paused, he combed through his short black hair with his fingers. He rubbed his clean-shaved tan skinned chin, and began to hold back tears that attempted to escape from his silver eyes. His face flushed with red as tears flooded out like water carrying screaming children down a dark tunnel at the water park. "She was an angel. She saw everything in me."

"Derrick! Derrick! Derrick! Derrick! Derrick!" The crowd roared as Stanley twitched and felt his nose. He slowly raised his upper body and looked at the blood on his finger tips. "Should a wannabe hero use this much force on a civilian," he said chuckling, "you might kill me at this rate Derrick Damien." Derrick kicked Stanley in the stomach.

"Should a villain suck this much at fighting? Or did your old man teach you to get henchmen to fight for you."

"Wrong again, Double D!" Stanley held his stomach as he tried to get up. "What did you call me?" Derrick asked lowering his tone.

"Double. D."

A vein popped on his forehead, "Don't call me," he raised his hand. Stanley smiled, "Double D!" Derrick dragged the dastardly Stanley towards him with more force than before. This time Stanley stretched out both of his arms and clenched his fists. "Shit," Derrick thought as both of the fists came flying to his face. Stanley was let go, and stopped himself from falling. "I should have shifted my body and kicked him in the face. That would have been way cooler," he thought to himself.

The whole crowd grimaced at Derrick being hit, "ouch," one of the members of the crowd said.

"Excuse me, can you tell me who is fighting," someone outside of the crowd asked.

The same member of the crowd who said ouch, happened to be on the outskirts of the crowd and responded without taking their eyes off of the fight. "Derrick Damien and Shitley Gracefield."

"Shitley, that's a new one. Is he new around here?"

"No, he's Gracefield. Do you not know Stan-" the member of the crowd turned around and saw the beauty that stood before him. He stuttered and stammered over his words, "G- Grace?" He gulped, as he saw her long white hair flow in the wind, her orange eyes pierced through the student's heart as it began running as fast as possible in hopes of escaping the gaze. "Be not afraid friend," she said smiling, "I just want to know who Shitley Gracefield is."

"St-St-Sta-St-St"

"St-St-Stuttering, in 2016? In this day and age where people with oddities run amuck. I thought speaking was the least of our worries. Now. I'm gonna give you a second to tell me who Shitley Gracefield is before I send you to hell where you rightfully and truly belong. But not before I burn you and your family to an absolute crisp for disrespecting my boyfriend!" As she yelled her white hair glowed red, and stood up like a freshly lit fire being fanned.

Everyone in the crowd slowly turned around and cleared a path for Grace. Derrick had just gotten up and began blushing at the sight of her. Stanley was recovering from the kick by Derrick and lit up the moment he saw her. "Grace!~"

"Grace was the love of my life," Stanley said to Dr. Thomas. "Right after she got a bit fired up, she took me away from everything and told me we were going on a date."

"How was the date? Did you enjoy it?"

"It was a shit date," he laughed, "She had to patch me up, but she kept hitting me because I kept making fun of her stupid little mole underneath her left eye. And her fanged teeth, you should have seen them, you would have thought she was a dragon, but she didn't smell like one though. She always smelled of some kind of sweet fruit or flower." Stanley paused, "The way she would hold my hand, it wasn't odd in anyway, but- well it sort of was- she used her oddity to heat up her- her hand up slightly so my hands were never- fuck. I'm sorry. Cold, I was never cold around her. But afterwards we got some chicken tenders and fries and she then told me her worst puns yet."

"Stan," Grace asked as she played with her fries like dolls. "If we get married, would my name have to be Grace Gracefield. Would I have to grace the aisle with my graceful Grace Gracefield presence." Stanley stared at her munching away at his chicken tenders.

"You lost me at Stan, too much alliteration for me honestly."

"Oh my goodness graciousness you graceless great beast. I just graced you with the presence of the great graceful Grace Gracefield. Damn I nailed it on the first try!"

"But if we get married I rather have your last name anyway."

"WHAT! You can't be stanlious."

"Don't combine my name with serious please."

"Nightingale is a terrible last name. Sounds to villainy."

"And Gracefield isn't?"

"Gracefield sounds lovely. When we become a superhero family, people would love to hear Gracefield not Nightingale."

"That's only if we managed to clear my family's name."

"That shouldn't be too hard."

"Oh yeah," Stanley took a huge sip out of his drink, "and why is that".

"Because you make me so happy Stanley," she said laying her hand on his, "you raise my morale whenever I'm feeling my lowest. Oh! You're Mr. Morale. If we can't clear our family's name we'll just take up the name of Morale. Grace and Stanley Morale. It's beautiful isn't it?" She said cocking her head to the side and smiling.

That was the brightest smile she ever made to Stanley, he was taken aback, "That's a dumb name," he said turning his body away from her, blushing. Grace slowly brought back her hand, and dropped her smile. "I'm sorry, I'll come up with something else."