Sinful Freedom [Training]

The dinner had actually been quite nice, even though it was rather casual. Samael didn’t eat burgers often – he generally stayed to things like grilled chicken, salad, things that were good for you. Nothing gluttonous. And yes, pride crept in there too – nothing that would add to his waistline. Pride was always the weakness, wasn’t it? No matter how pious, almost all of the truly great men suffered from the sin of Pride.

But now he was in a rather dark alley with Devon, and it felt slightly awkward. This is normally the kind of place he dealt with the wicked in, not a place he went with friends. Was Devon a friend? Samael actually wasn’t even sure, wasn’t sure what it felt like.

But he knew what Devon wanted, and he looked to the younger man, taking note of the grin. Samael knew that feeling, the feeling you got just before you let your powers wash over you and the rush you got when you took off. Devon shot off into the night with a gust of wind. With Samael, there was nothing at all except a tiny breeze caused by his passage as he shot up after Devon, quickly gaining some altitude. He pointed off slightly into the distance, moving away from the crowded city areas as he wanted to be sure there weren’t any witnesses or issues – he still wasn’t sure what kinds of things radar could pick up, especially in the capitol.

The pair sped off over the rooftops, quickly getting high enough to where it would be impossible to notice them against the dark night sky, and Samael directed them further away from the city center, towards some of the rare green space off the main areas, away from the highways where the moon might actually shine and provide enough light to show the beauty of nature.

Dinner was a distraction but a good one. For Devon, who stretched his dollar probably too far most weeks, it was a great meal and the company hadn’t even been that bad. He enjoyed a good burger with a seemingly good if a little misguided person. It was all rather mundane except for the discrete discussion on ability use and then the weirdness of Samael’s childhood.

This was going to be good.

Devon didn’t fly. He rode the winds. Where a breeze could have been enough, he summoned a squall to whisk him upwards. He strode upward and the sky urged him to go higher. It was with him and he wanted to know it better. There was always something more beyond his understanding he hadn’t yet grasped. He had listen, see, feel…

Oh he soared high, grinning widely. Gone was the nervousness or the cool discomfort at the odd deflection Samael had seemingly posed. Whether intentional or not, Devon was picking up on some sinful and closed-minded behavior. As rude as he could be, Devon still preferred free thought and open discourse, unless of course there was a news anchor nearby with a camera and a microphone.

When Samael gestured off, Devon was only too happy to nod. A swift howl roared down from the clouds, bringing with it a squall of snowflakes. It twirled haphazardly through the air and then sprayed off into a fan shape. Seizing one of the currents created, Devon spun it back and seemingly flung himself forward nearly to the maximum of his speed. He relished it.

Rooftops and street lights became small memories like dreams a few minutes after waking. The clouds sent tiny flurries dancing through the air and in kindness but also in a desire to hone his control, he pushed them away from Samael. He’d complained of cold and Devon could keep one stream of air warmer over the Jesus freak. Nothing touched him and the air warmed to near 50 Fahrenheit. Devon grinned though all mirth was lost in his dark eyes.

Trees stretched out over hills with the highway upon the horizon. An errant breeze would blow bringing with it a dance of snow. Devon howled in delight as he spun through the air and bade the snow spin after him in twin trails. Another slow whisper of wind built up to a gust before silencing suddenly as Devon dropped to the ground. He threw up his arms as if going down a roller coaster.

As he landed he kept the warmer air around his newfound ally. Friend wasn’t certain yet but hey, beggars can’t be choosers now can they? It’s not like he’d killed that Jason kid after all. He was trying to help. Poor Samael needed more normal conversation.

“So,” Devon said with a breathy tone. “Shake my beliefs because let me tell you, they are lofty!”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

As they flew, Samael watched as the winds propelled Devon’s body. It was quite different from his own flight. The only wind that he felt was that made by his own passing, but with Devon they seemed to hold him aloft, which made it look all the more interesting as his hair and clothing blew every which way as it stabilized him. It was interesting, if a bit more windy perhaps? Samael actually wasn’t quite sure about that. Samael didn’t really think it was safe and he liked his own telepathy – nice, steady and exacting.

As Samael indicated they should head out, a howling gust of wind came and carried Devon off that direction at a rather amazing speed and Samael had to strain with all of his power just to keep up with the guy. They sped out away from the city proper and just as the chill was starting to get to him, everything seemed to warm up just slightly. Surprised, Samael looked around as they hurtled through the air and spotted the grinning face of Devon. This must be his work then – well that was certainly useful!

Samael watched – and listened – as Devon howled in delight, apparently really, really loving his flight. Even through all of Devon’s antics, the warm air seemed to circulate around Samael, for which he was most appreciative. With the various snow flurries in the air and the cold winter breezers, he was pretty sure he’d have been rather cold out here on his own. In weather like this he usually wore a mask to help cut down on things.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Devon. He was pretty sure he could trust him – the guy would have tried something already, and Samael didn’t sense anything sinister about him, though he avoided probing too deeply. Overall he seemed in many ways like someone younger than the age he appeared to be. How old was he anyways? Samael didn’t think he had even asked.

Devon zipped out ahead of him and landed after going on what appeared to be a wind rollercoaster. Samael shook his head and grinned a bit as he followed after. As he approached land he reversed himself, feet first, and as he got within a few feet he stopped and appeared to walk down an invisible set of stairs until he was on the grass in front of Devon. He looked around and noticed a little frost here and there and then eyed Devon curiously, “You’re kind of useful to have around, you know?”

But then Devon asked him to shake his beliefs, to tell him why Samael had mentioned what he did earlier, and now Samael found himself unsure what to do next. How do you explain something like this when you hardly believe it yourself? What if it wasn’t even true? But then, it had to be. After all, he had the… things… to prove it. Normally he would not have hesitated to tell someone about himself and where he came from, so why did he hesitate now? Was he afraid of how Devon would judge him, and even if so – why would he give a fuck what Devon thought of him?

Samael eyed Devon for several long moments, “Are you sure you want to know?”

Devon had to be impressed with the precision of Samael’s flight. The TK, or telekinesis whatever, sure seemed versatile and adaptable. More than that, it showed Samael had a keen sense of control. The invisible stairs bit grew a chuckle. Normally Devon would have assumed he was showing off, but the way the Inquisitor acted this was probably the norm.

The immediate comment drew a smirk, “Useful? Don’t get any ideas there, friend.” He shook his head. While he was teasing, Devon didn’t want anyone who either thought they knew best or that God told them what was best to push any choice decisions about the weather. Making it very warm in the winter suddenly could have some rather negative effects. It sure would make the flu season even worse for example.

Still, Devon understood the implication, keeping the warm air flowing soothingly around Samael. His eyes remained midnight black, a warning of his powers in use. He never associated such with anything dark or malign, though he knew others would. To him, the darkness represented the endless skies.

Over the awkward silence of Samael’s pause, which Devon assumed to be reflection, the weather warlock drew down shifting currents to tease the trees and artfully funnel flurrying snow flakes around them. As they drew close to Samael they melted and with a mere thought, they flew away as sudden shards of ice. Devon was getting better with this the more he practiced. It wasn’t really practice with Devon though; it was exploration and understanding.

They were one, the skies and he. He felt that power calling on him, needing him. He needed it. Together they were stronger and something about the woes of this world made Devon want to be stronger. He didn’t like how easily his rages or sorrow could affect storms, the winds, or the temperature but if he didn’t explore it would never get better. So he’d been patient, but like now with Samael, enough was enough.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, you know,” came his response. Devon shook his head, brow dropping and knotting together in apparent concern. “My shrinks have always said if I’m not ready to talk, to move on then all the sessions in the world aren’t going to help. I think I finally understand why. So don’t beat yourself up, but yeah, of course I want to know. You’re making it seem like your parents were super spies who could manipulate space and time or something.”

He chuckled briefly and shrugged. “Honestly though, it seems you’ve got a much different perspective than I do. I’m sure they’d tell me learning and understanding others places in life – which is why they have group therapy – would help us both. No offense, as masterful as you may be and all, but I think you need to hear some other perspectives too.”

“Tell me about the church, your parents, your beliefs, why you’re certain of your mission. I’m asking.”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael smiled back as Devon smirked at him about the useful comment and he offered a shrug. It was useful, and he certainly didn’t mind being kept warm, as the night was chilly enough to have some occasional bits of snow even without Devon’s help. He stared back at Devon curiously, taking in his dark swirling eyes. They looked almost demonic, though if anything Devon seemed more angelic than somebody like Samael, almost innocent in many ways even though he seemed to have seen a lot in his time.

His eyes flickered away as Devon continued to play with the snow, melting it as it came towards Samael though he wasn’t sure if it was the warmth or Devon’s own doing. Either way, it showed remarkable control over temperature and fine particles. He watched some of the melted ice turned to icicles, shooting away from him, and Samael made a lazy hand gesture causing several of the icicles to explode as if they hit a wall. Another icicle turned around and came back towards Samael and landed in his hand where he inspected it curiously as if wondering if it was really water, or perhaps just looking at the clarity of it.

“That is pretty amazing,” he said as it started to melt from his hand and the warmth that surrounded him. He looked back towards Devon as he said that Samael didn’t have to talk, and Samael was tempted to take him up on that offer. He still didn’t know why he was considering telling Devon except that maybe he wanted to see his reaction, wanted to see his faith shaken, or rather perhaps see it confirmed. After all, if Devon believed in devils and demons, he had to believe in angels and thus the Heavenly Father.

“I wasn’t directly involved with the same church where my mother was a nun,” he said, speaking slowly as he pondered the best way to tell Devon about it. He slowly lifted himself a few inches off the ground, then slowly rotated at the waist until he was head down and doing a one handed hand stand (with a little help). He eyed Devon from his upside down position, “She was kicked out of that one when she got pregnant. Normally they’d let her stay until she had the baby. But they didn’t really care to after she kept claiming that the father of his unborn child was the devil himself.” He shrugged slightly, moving back to stand on his feet.

Samael gave a small gesture and some of the snow from the previous flurry jumped into the air and then there was a little flick of his hands and the snow just kind of stood there in place, unmoving in mid air as if the entire little snow flurry had frozen in time for a moment before starting to fall again.

“That’s where she said my powers came from,” he said, “From him. I always thought she was wrong though. I knew they came from another source.” He glanced at Devon and then glanced up at the sky and back, “I’m not a mutant, or a freak of science. So where did it come from? Where else could it have come from?” It could have came from his father, that’s what his father had said… but Samael still wasn’t sure if he trusted his father. He was a Devil after all and they all lied, right? They especially lied about lying…

Devon was more than a little concerned when Samael started floating upside down. He’d not seen the guy relax even once, let alone seem silly. Some may think Devon acted like a kid sometimes, but Samael acted like he was forty. You know, based off the two encounters they’d known each other it was pretty clear Samael was a bit uptight.

But this tale he was telling was more than anyone would believe. What sort of nun claims to have the son of the Devil inside her? What sort of church doesn’t try to help that kind of person out? Who else got her pregnant then? Why was the guy playing with the snow as if this wasn’t a fucking crazy ass story?

Black eyes went wide; there was no hiding it. Devon was more emotionally aware than many but that didn’t mean he could hide it. He wore his surprise, concern and whatever else was brewing together in his mind rather plainly on his face. He nodded once or twice, but the way he drew his head back showed serious hesitancy. Still, he didn’t fly off.

“Okay, first off, wow,” Devon nodded. “No wonder you’re… you.” He grimaced but forced a sort of awkward family photo smile. “I’m sorry about your mother and how she was treated, but that’s some tale.”

Another small nod was made as he continued, “I don’t think your powers come from the Devil. I tend to believe all sorts of things are possible now that I know what’s out there, what’s possible.” He glanced around, “When I was young I thought maybe I had the blood of Greek Gods in me. Maybe I do. Maybe the Greek Gods were just mutants of their time. How do you know you’re not one? Because your mom thinks your dad is the Devil?”

“No offense, but there’s all sorts of tricks and mental stuff,” he tapped his temple and inclined his chin toward Samael, “That can mess with the mind. What if she was made to think that so your dad could avoid the powers he knew he’d pass on? And even if it was from a malign, biblical, corrupting source like that… If you use it for good reasons, who the fuck cares?”

Devon’s tone spoke of his intent at least. His voice was upbeat, casual and even friendly. He wasn’t sure how to process any of what he’d heard because based on what he knew, it sounded like utter bullshit. This guy needed a doc way more than Devon did.

His brow knit together in sincere concern, “I’m sorry I mocked you and all before. Growing up hearing that has to be horrible. I don’t think anyone wants to be evil or anything.” Devon certainly didn’t want to think of himself as evil, even if he knew he’d killed people. They’d been kids and he’d been the one to blow up a school. He was one of those kids-

Devon sighed, clearing his throat and glancing down at the ground, snow flakes outlining his boots on the grass. “Your mom okay?” he asked, glancing back up with dead eyes.

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael spoke to Devon of where he came from, who his mother was, and who she said his father was, and he didn’t miss it when Devon’s black eyes went wide. In fact it seemed even easier to see than normal in the quasi darkness of the evening time. Maybe his eyes were just getting used to the night more and more as he spent more nights out hunting and slept during the day. That or it was something else his father had done.

He shrugged slightly, “You don’t have to be sorry about how she was treated. She probably should have been in a mental institution, she didn’t exactly handle it well.” In fact, she had been batshit crazy, but Samael was pretty sure he had already implied that well enough so far.

Samael looked at Devon a little skeptically as he said he didn’t believe his powers came from the devil. It seemed as if Devon was already dismissing what he had said, or making excuses. Samael knew he wasn’t a mutant. He just knew it. Their powers usually came on at puberty, and they weren’t like his, not really. Plus there were… the new things, the things his father had given him. Mutants didn’t just hand out powers.

But then there was a tiny bit of hope, as Devon mentioned that even if the powers were from such a source that they could be used for good and Samael nodded in agreement, “Exactly, which is part of why I do what I do every night. Ridding the world of sinners seems the best way to make use of the powers passed on to me.” Using the powers provided by his father to punish sinners and even send some of them to hell was what kept Samael going each night. It was what he would need to buy his way into heaven. If he only managed enough of them, perhaps it would be enough to undue the blemishes put on his soul by his faith.

Then Devon had to go and ask that question. Samael looked back to Devon, “She’s dead.” He gave a small shrug.

Devon’s hopeful smile became a disdainful frown, “No one deserves to be in a mental institution.” He snorted and smirked, “They don’t help anyone. They just struggle to keep people alive. Yeah, maybe they are better now than they used to be, but do you know how rare it is for people to get better? It’s sad; those are more for people who can’t afford expensive treatment. You have the money you get to walk around on drugs and…”

He shook his head, “Anyway, I wish it could have been done differently.” And what could he do about it? Yeah he felt bad for people that were worse off than him, didn’t have some cash, or the ability to fly off when things went bad… Was he seriously thinking about this?

Samael expounded on his feelings of how to use his abilities and Devon remained quiet. He wanted to point out something, but now wasn’t the best time. He felt the need to ask reflective questions like his shrink would. It wasn’t what this was about though. They were just talking and Devon wasn’t exactly well trained, just experienced with psychiatry.

Devon was right; it wasn’t the proper time. Samael’s admittance that his mother was dead proved that. Never would have Devon expected someone so young to have already lost his mother. The smirk he’d worn immediately faded to a frown. That small shrug Samael made told Devon that the Inquisitor was trying to let it go, but it implied the pain was deeper. At least that’s what the homeless kid with amazing powers, bipolar disorder, absentee parents, frequent psychological visits and a confused approach to people thought.

“I’m sure she’s proud of you then,” Devon started with. “You’re trying to stop what evil’s in the world. And if your father is really the Devil,” and he wasn’t so sure he believed that, but who knew what was really possible in this world, “Then we know your mom is happy now.”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Devon mentioned that nobody deserved to be in a mental institution and it drew another small shrug from Samael. Where else would you put someone like his mother? She’d fallen apart, she couldn’t function. The idea that she had had relations with the devil and given birth to his spawn had been too much for her and over the years she had just slowly degraded until she was hardly even a shell of her former self, and eventually she just gave up completely. Samael thought that maybe a mental institution would have at least kept her alive. Maybe at least… But he didn’t say as much yet.

He gestured vaguely and a few small rocks lifted themselves off the ground and started to slowly swirl around him as the pair spoke. They moved a little quicker as time passed and Samael seemed to concentrate for a moment before several of them shot straight up and then started to plummet back down towards him. He looked back towards Devon, listening as Devon stated his assurance that his mother was proud and he gave a small snort. Just before the rocks would land on Samael an unseen force would grab them and launch them safely away from the pair, seemingly without real effort.

“Proud of me? Happy?” he shook his head and stared at Devon darkly, “She was a broken, beaten woman by the time she died. And proud of me? She cursed me every day for having my father’s blood. She hated what I was and what I had become, ever since I was a child. I sincerely doubt she is proud, and doubt even more she is happy wherever she ended up.”

Samael paused for a few long moments and shook his head before looking back at Devon, “What about you? Where’s your family?”

More small rocks picked themselves up as a small shimmering dome seemed to cover a small nearby spruce. One by one the stones rocketed towards the spruce, ricocheting off at the last moment when they hit an invisible hard field. Samael continued this process, the stones beating relentlessly against it though he still maintained eye contact with Devon.

And here was where Devon chose to debate the point. Whether he should or shouldn’t have, that’s difficult to say. However, he did because he felt he should have.

“I bet she is proud and happy,” Devon asserted with a nod, ignoring the questions posed to him. The long pauses were inner conflict; he knew those. The change of subject meant pain and frustration, best to leave alone. Devon didn’t really care; he was going to poke and prod now just like his shrinks did.

“She didn’t understand; she didn’t know. It sounds like she was harassed and tormented by what happened to her and how people she trusted responded to it,” he said with a firm gaze and a nod of the head. “I’m sorry she was cruel to you, but even you said she was broken. You know what gaslighting is? It’s where people purposely try to make you crazy, sociopath like, by lieing, tricking, torturing… They hated her and she turned it on you. I’m sorry.”

He frowned, “But now she’s free. She’s in heaven. She knows what’s really going on and she gets to check in on you. She’s free of all the guilt, mental anguish and all that was done to her. Well, not all the guilt I bet.” He paused a mere moment, “Worst of all is she must feel horrible for what she put you through, what she did to you. If you’re going to believe in the Devil and your powers being divine, then I suggest you think about this too.”

A sigh escaped his lips as he glanced back at the nearby spruce. He wasn’t distracted by the rocks though they were annoying. Samael must’ve been upset, trying to move his attention or divert his anger. He was starting to think he owed Dr. Kohlitz an apology. This is exactly what Devon did. Damn it.

“Sometimes people do things they don’t mean to, that they don’t realize. This world gets people down, breaks them apart. They’re fucked up even without magical bullshit going on,” Devon stated in a loud, firm tone. It softened as he continued, “It will probably be the hardest thing you do, forgiving your mother. I bet you know that already.”

Not that Devon could forgive himself or what he’d done, what he’d experienced or how he’d reacted. He felt lost and barely could understand why it had all happened the way it had. Hell, here he was passing out advice he’d gotten himself.

“You should put your doubt aside and have some faith,” Devon said sheepishly, a heavy brow dropping over blue eyes. The coolness of the air was creeping back in but only slightly, the weather having been adjusted. Devon could always make it cold again later.

The loud voice returned with a laugh, “And could you please stop tossing stones around? Geez.”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Devon seemed intent on insisting that Samael’s mother was proud and happy for him. Samael just thought Devon apparently had a hard time understanding just what she had put him through. She wasn’t proud, she spent every day telling him what a wicked child he was, spawn of the devil, evil. She wished he’d never been born, or that she had the strength to end his existence. Often Samael had wished the same on her, but he was never able to bring himself to take his revenge on her, even when she raised her hand or the switch to him.

The thing about gaslighting, whatever that was, sounded like it might be exactly what had happened. Perhaps the church had done it to her, and in turn she had turned on him for more of the same. But Samael was still unsure, and he doubted he’d be letting go of those feelings any time soon.

He was somewhat rigid as he stood there and listened, head held just a fraction up as he watched his rocks whirl around as they chatted. Devon spoke about people doing things they don’t made and the Samael’s teeth ground slightly as his jaw tightly set. That was taking things just a bit too far. Things they don’t mean? Really? And he said as much.

“You think they do things they don’t mean? For a decade and a half? To a child? Over and over again?” he asked, “You think that is just something they ‘don’t mean’ or ‘don’t realize’ what they doing? How can you not? How can you do things to a child, over and over again, and claim ignorance? It doesn’t work like that,” he said shaking his head. “It just doesn’t work like that.”

He laughed as Devon said he should have some faith, “But I already have plenty of faith, you should know that by now. I thought it was part of me you didn’t care for actually.” He gave a small sigh, “I do have faith. Faith that I was put here by our Heavenly Father, and that these things were put here to test me. If I work hard enough I can overcome what made me and work my way back into His good grace.

Devon asked for him to stop playing with the rocks and so he did. They simply dropped to the ground where they were, rolling a few times before coming to a stop. He crossed his arms loosely and glanced towards Devon, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Devon shook his head as Samael spoke back to him, insisting over and over again. Literally, he even used those words. Now he had no idea to what extent this woman had gone, but he also believed quite clearly that a normal person didn’t act like this. She’d clearly have had to have broken.

“Well I believe her mind was damaged. There’s no way under normal circumstances a mother, let alone a person, would want to do that to a child. I’m very sorry that happened to you,” Devon stated, “But when she needed help; she got none. She did break and unfortunately you bore that burden. It happens a lot, supernatural elements or not. I guess I just think more of the mind than I realized. It seemed clear to me, but I’m no shrink. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

He shrugged, frowning, and was staring off and away. He avoided eye contact and all the fear, judgment, anger – whatever Samael was feeling – that was bound to come with it. It was clear to Devon now that Samael didn’t really have faith. He believed what was comfortable and easy for him; that’s not how faith worked for most people. Devon’s faith was difficult and made him angry more often than not, maybe a bit like Samael. Samael believed only what he wanted to and let it justify his actions.

Devon chose not to say anything about that, not now anyway and probably not ever. He didn’t really know what to say but was glad the rocks crashing around behind him stopped. The way Samael passively-aggressively brought up his question didn’t exactly sit well with Devon either.

An annoyed sigh left the storm lord and he shrugged again. “My former family’s alive but they don’t want a mutant so I’m on my own,” Devon said with a defeated tone. He didn’t look back to Samael, still watching the trees move in the distance. He felt the currents around them and saw the ones in the distance, stirring over one another and bending the tree tops. They swerved and cut between branches with ease, just as Devon practiced when flying.

“Sounds like you win bad parenting and terrible childhood,” Devon nodded, a bemused smirk upon his face. “Your prize is anger that fuels you,” he chuckled, “But also, I’ve got twenty bucks if you want to grab a handle of vodka.” He was wishing now he’d had a drink or two.

“You probably don’t drink though,” he groaned. And then he stopped suddenly, tilting his head and looking back to Samael, “Wait. Did you say you have to work to get back into God’s good graces? You don’t actually believe that do you? You didn’t buy into that you’re a bad person just cause, right?”

“Ha,” Devon said, eyes rolling back for a moment. “Because that’s bullshit. God is about forgiveness and hope and doing the right thing. Sounds to me like the worst you’ve got is possibly being born from the Devil. So, you’re fine. Rapists, molesters, killers – that’s who’s got to work for forgiveness.” He nodded a few short nods.

The wind currents whistled through the trees as the air started to grow cooler once more, returning to freezing.

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Devon continued to make a lot of assumptions about Samael’s mother, and for now he just shrugged them off. To him, it didn’t really matter much because he had written her off long ago, so why would he care what Devon thought of her or what he wanted her to be? Samael knew she was a broken person, that doesn’t make her a good person. She still did the things she did and he wasn’t sure she ever sought forgiveness before she died, so he doubted she was in heaven.

He was interested and listened when Devon talked about his family, sucked that they apparently disowned him when they found out he was a mutant. He would never understand that even though he saw similar persecution every day with humanity and even the church – though he was working to change that. Devon didn’t really go into much detail after that, though. Had he tried to talk to them? Counseling? Did they kick him out or did he leave?

“You’re correct about drinking,” he said, “I don’t. I don’t mind if you do, however, as long as it is not done to excess.” Gluttony was one of the worst sins and was to be avoided at all costs, though Samael did not say as much.

“As for God’s good graces,” he continued, “It depends. Everyone should seek to live within them, sinners should attempt to atone. As for the spawn of devils and demons? Nobody knows, so as they say… better safe than sorry.” He paused for a moment, “I do not believe it makes me a bad person, but just as man is born with the sins of Adam and Eve, surely the man born from the spawn of evil is surely born with worse.”

Devon seemed to try to make light of it and Samael crooked a small smile though he remained largely serious, then he tightened his crossed arms slightly and glanced around as if looking for the source of the cold before realizing it was just the warmth fading. He gave a small smile towards Devon, “Is that a hint you are ready to leave?”

Devon laughed and nodded as Samael affirmed his suspicions. Of course he didn’t drink. Heaven forbid the Devil’s son allow himself to imbibe a cocktail. God forbid he act human. Really though, ancestry clearly had nothing to do with it. Samael obviously felt himself the virtuous sort and virtuous people did not drink.

Things were getting too preachy though. Instead of sounding like belief or faith, this sounded like church and man’s rhetoric. As Devon said, he hated churches and something told him that man had things all wrong. Besides, he wasn’t even human. He was a mutant. Now just what did God think of that?

Despite Devon’s confusing and contradictory thought processes, he was following the conversation well enough. He was going to hold back while Samael made clear why he hated himself. He’d gotten the truth of the shaken beliefs statement and whether or not the Devil was involved, Samael had made clear he was just as fucked up – if not more – than anyone else. The concern was, how far would that blind faith take Samael? Devon was a little concerned where he fell into the hierarchy of sin…

“Oh,” Devon uttered as his eyes swam and filled with darkness. The area around Samael began to warm once more as the Tempest focused. Snow flakes melted but the a fair breeze that remained above the two diverted the droplets. The temperature once again hovered in the high 40’s, low 50’s. “Sorry, I- Well I think my emotions were playing with the temperature.”

He shrugged a shoulder as his eyes remained dark, “I’ll keep things steady for now.” He let the prevailing weather return to the cold it knew. As night laid on, the temperature would drop but with the diverting winds and the soothing warmth, their small bubble was fairly comfortable even as the grass grew dewy beneath their feet. With an errant thought, the deflected droplets became small ice crystals that slid down the umbrella of air Tempest had made and fell down to the ground, some rolling back into the warmer air.

“You said you live in New York right? You work there or something? I mean, you seem… well off, I guess,” Tempest nodded his head once as if gesturing. “I take small jobs here and there. More than once I’ve thought about offering my services to a resort to ensure good weather,” he laughed.

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael didn’t find it amusing that Devon found the fact that he didn’t drink was funny. It was a virtuous choice, and the fact that he kept his body pure and took care of the gifts given to him by God was something he would never stop doing, not as long as he could help it. It was just one more way that he proved himself before God, one more chance… He wished he could bring Devon around to it. Maybe the guy would come to church with him some time? A real church without the bigoted bullshit.

The area warmed up and it caused Samael to smile again. “Man, you are handy to have around,” he said with a chuckle, “So you could always keep it a nice 72 around you? That’d be nice in summer and winter both.” Samael wished his own powers had more day to day uses, outside of just handing himself things from across the room at least. And he had to admit, he liked the comfort that Devon was providing him right now.

He glanced down, noticing the frost melting a bit here and there, the air moist and almost a chilly spring day rather than the middle of winter. Glancing up, he stared as the little ice crystals seemed to slide down the shield of warmth that protected him. “Impressive,” he said with another slight smile, “You’ve got quite a variety with your powers.”

Devon asked about New York and he nodded, “Yes, I live there. For work… I don’t have time. I deal with the city’s sinners and consider that my work. I am not particularly well off, I simply use the sinner’s resources to continue my fight against them.” He gave a small shrug, “I am sure you could find a resort owner who did not disapprove of mutants. That sounds like it would be a fine job. Why not do exactly that then?”

Samael thought it would be a perfect job for a mutant, and one that suited the powers well, and the prospect of enjoying virtually forever on a resort beach…. He held in a sigh – It would be gluttonous. Sitting around, doing nothing. Sloth. Sinful and wicked. No, he could never go to such a place, no matter how nice it sounded.

Samael uncrossed his arms and unzipped his jacket, enjoying the slightly warmer air again, “You fly fast, too. I gotta work on it so I can keep up with you.” He chuckled a bit, “So you going to visit New York or what?”

Samael seemed really impressed but there was that sentiment again: handy to have around, useful. Devon knew his powers could be useful. Still, he didn’t want to destroy the atmosphere or the environment; people were doing that well enough on their own.

“Yeah,” Devon nodded with a small smile. “I can ask for changes locally, which take longer but has a more widespread effect. Or I can modify a small area directly and quickly. Seventy degrees is easy,” he nodded again quickly. “Lately I’m practicing more and more, getting finer control.”

When Samael said he used the sinners’ resources, Devon winced. So he felt it was okay to take their money because they had sinned? Wasn’t that everyone by definition of the bible? Man, this guy walked a fine line and Devon was worrying more and more what side he fell on. It sounded like everyone was on the other side of that line.

“Flying is second nature to me,” Devon inhaled deeply. “I can see currents of air, manipulate the wind but I simply sail along. It’s freedom and power but when I need – or want – to go very fast I can fling myself along on gusts. Granted, I can manipulate the pressure to make it easier too… I should work on that.”

“So going to an island would be easy. I’ll probably head back to New York soon,” Devon nodded. “But I’ve thought of other places,” he glanced from left to right and then cleared his throat. The sliding water droplets and ice crystals seemed to spray apart but didn’t enter their small clear radius. The shattered and spread, becoming a mist and within a second a cloud of fog surrounded them, severely limiting vision beyond five feet of their clearing.

“I’ve thought about London, too,” Devon grinned. He let the air cool and settle as the fog quickly fell and dispersed, coating the grass around them in a fine layer of frost. “I’d get bored working the weather though. I don’t think that’s what I’m supposed to do. Besides, I hate feeling tied down like that. With all that’s going on, I like to move, explore…” He shrugged, glancing to the ground. Clearly it was more than that.

“It doesn’t matter where I go anyway. My body adapts to the air, the weather so high pressure cold mountain or dry desert, I’ll be fine. Well, until I get dehydrated but even then I could probably pull something out of the upper atmosphere…” he looked up in thought. “I can see pressure systems, moisture levels, the air currents like I said… It’s amazing how busy it is.”

“You must have had a hard time at first, everyone’s thoughts bouncing around or whatever?”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael listened carefully as Devon spoke about making changes to the weather. Not that Samael had gone to college, but he remembered from his earlier schooling just how wide an effect small weather changes could have. Plus he’d seen the Butterfly Effect which was really way better than the things he learned in school in regards to teaching people how small changes could spiral out of control. It was pretty good then that Devon had learned this and even could figure out how to use his powers in wide areas without messing things up. He was… responsible.

It didn’t seem that Devon approved of him using the money and whatnot he’d gotten from sinners, but Samael didn’t really care what he thought about that. What did it matter? It was… tithing if nothing else. If he didn’t do it, he wouldn’t be able to spend as much time finding more sinners, so in essence they paid to help him find their other sinner friends. It was win/win as least as far as Samael was concerned, and who could judge him but God?

“Flying wasn’t as easy for me,” he said, “I didn’t even learn how to do it until recently, and it was a… bumpy start, basically throwing myself from place to place like I was one of those rocks from earlier.” His eyes followed the droplets of water and ice crystals then looked back towards Devon’s dark eyes. As the fog rolled in he slowly turned in a circle, taking it in the way it looked and how the fog seemed to obscure almost everything. Something like this would be useful for him too, when it came to punishing sinners. Samael wondered if he could do something similar with darkness…

“You would get bored working the weather?” he asked curiously, “So what is it you think it is you are supposed to do then, as you said? Fight crime? Be a sinner finding sidekick?” He smirked slightly then admonished himself – he always worked alone, no room for anyone else. Plus they never understood anyways, so really what was the point?

“London would be nice, but overseas travel is expensive, and I don’t think I’m quite up to flying that far yet. Maybe once I’ve gotten a bit faster, yeah? It’ll be a lot easier then. Otherwise too long, too tiring, too easy to get lost.”

“As for the thoughts, it wasn’t as hard as you might think,” he said, “Like I said before it is a fairly new development, not something I was born with. So far it mostly seems to only come on when I really concentrate on someone, so it really hasn’t been too bad. If anything it was harder to get it to work than make it stop. Now that I’ve kind of mastered it though it is definitely easier to just kind of eavesdrop when I need to, or pick out random information.”

“How about you?” he asked, “Any accidental tornados or anything?”

“You were flying pretty good there,” Devon gave an encouraging nod. “It must require a lot more concentration on your part considering your abilities, but like all things… practice, right? Be sure your body can withstand the force before you push yourself too hard though. It can be dangerous.” He finished in a grave tone, a clear warning.

“But yeah, with the way the world is, I’m not going to sit around on an island. I can do some good. Sinner finding sidekick doesn’t exactly sound my style though,” he chuckled, smirking. “I think my focus will not be as narrow as that, but I guess the sin part applies sometimes.”

He listened more closely to Samael’s explanation of the thought detection. He’d forgotten that was new for the guy. He seriously hoped it wasn’t a practice that Samael used on just anyone, himself included. Devon felt guilty for a lot of things. He got upset often enough about nothing, when he thought on…

Was he listening in now? Was he reading Devon’s mind? Why would he ask that question? Was he eavesdropping? He had to be.

Devon’s brow narrowed to a sharp point over the black of his eyes. “Yeah,” he said with a menacing, angry tone. “I didn’t think you would do that to me. If this was all some sick joke for you to fuck with me after reading my thoughts, then you have serious problems.”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: normal. Two more threads can be normal.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael shrugged slightly as they spoke of flight. “It has gotten quite a bit easier,” he said, “Once I kind of realized I didn’t have to throw myself and instead could just kind of.. perpetually move myself.” He shrugged again, “I guess with powers sometimes it is just finding the right way to picture them in your mind and then exerting that on your body, rather than just refining what you already know. You know what I mean?”

“Your focus won’t be as narrow as finding sinners, hmm?” Samael asked curiously. “How narrow of a focus do you think it is? Look at so many of those who are causing problems. Would you consider them sinners? It is not very narrow at all, but sadly far too broad at times.”

Samael watched as Devon seemed to grow uncomfortable after he spoke of peeking into people’s minds. He didn’t need to read Devon’s mind to see each of those thoughts flowing through him, they flowed through Devon’s face like someone had written them on a wall. Honestly Samael was surprised it took Devon this long. Samael hadn’t told very many people about his abilities, but he’d seen it all over the news. The distrust. The hate. The assumptions. All because people hated being powerless, they just couldn’t stand it. Samael could have read Devon’s mind a hundred times by now. Could have made Devon do anything he wanted a hundred times by now. Could have made Devon kill someone and forget all about it. But what do people get angry about first? The thought that you might read one little thought in their mind.

“How did we get to this, Devon?” Samael asked, staring back at those dark eyes, “How did we get from our talks today to you looking at me like that, challenging me to say I’ve ‘fucked’ with you or read your thoughts? I would think as a mutant you’d be reacting a little more trust, considering what I’ve told you so far.” He shook his head a little, crossing his arms, “I’m disappointed.”

“Disappointed in me? Who the hell do you think you are? Our talks today? I just met you. You were just saying how your focus is broad’ Devon said loudly. “Everyone’s a sinner right? And you’re standing all defensively. I know!” He crossed his arms over his chest, “I do it too!” Flinging out his arms, he shook his head.

“So you just happen to bring up the tornado?” Devon scoffed as a couple wind gusts howled through the nearby trees, bending them violently. “You’re the one who said you like to make sinners confess and then force them to repent, not me. You fuck with anyone you believe should be, right? Well I’m no rapist and I don’t deserve this weird mind game.”

He shook his head and pointed a finger at Samael, “I’m sorry if your mother was horrible to you and sorry if it’s all true, but you can’t just go around invading and pushing like this. It’s not fair!” Shouting as he was, Devon was quickly growing upset as his black eyes began to water. The tears flowed up off his cheeks and whirled off into the air as a strange slow wind began to tussle his black hair.

“I didn’t think you would do this and I know you told me all about what happened, but maybe I’m not ready okay? Give me that would you?” his voice was still elevated but it cracked here and there. The flurries gathered into clumps of snow and flew in haphazard directions around them, though never quite nearing their small area. The wind howled angrily from all directions but the air remained warm.

“I trusted you. I figured, hey he’s had it rough, he’s trying to do the best he can, but do you realize how you sound? How you keep sounding? Your beliefs seem to only be right when they satisfy what you want, and I don’t want this,” Devon pointed up into the air. His brow was knitted in severe concentration.

Despite this, a tree branch cracked a broke from a nearby pine. Rain was falling into their small bubble as thunder boomed up in the heavens. Devon was starting to shake, his arms and head twitching. “I barely know you,” he said in a low, contemptuous tone. “I just met you. I- I-,” he paused, the tone softening, “I’m barely holding on lately.”

The tears flew off his face and up, oddly defying gravity to bounce around his head and then drop into the grass below. It was clear the weather had descended into chaos and the near calm, warm area around the two was barely being held by the distraught Devon. He wore a severe frown, but one of deep sorrow not anger.

“Give me a chance to explain. It wasn’t on purpose. I- I-”

((OOC:
Bipolar: Low State. Highly Emotional State: Sorrow.
Maintain environmental conditions nearly failing as he struggles to take the 2 posts to keep things together against the chaos his emotions are causing.
))

And there Devon went, going on about how Samael shouldn’t ask for trust when they had already confided in each other about their past, their powers, their nightly rounds and things they did with their powers, even possibly what they planned on doing for the future. But asking for a bit of trust was apparently way too much trouble. Samael should have known this would happen.

He wasn’t sure why Devon thought he was playing some mind game, he had simply been asking him questions after the guy implied that Samael had been rooting around in his head. A lot of this was making no sense at all and Samael wasn’t really sure what was going on now.

Then things possibly got a little more clear – Devon thought Samael was in his head, pushing him towards things? Again, the trust issue, but also clear that the guy might not have a clear grasp of what normally went on in his head. From the things he said, there may be some mental stability at play. That would explain quite a bit actually, quite a bit indeed.

His gaze followed Devon’s up and towards the heavens, noticing that the weather had turned rather severe and looked almost dangerous as the storm clouds gathered. A loud boom of thunder reverberated close by and Samael briefly wondered if he was going to get electrocuted shortly. He wasn’t sure his new blood would do very well at regenerating that and he didn’t really plan on finding out.

When Samael looked back to Devon he saw the young man crying in a rather odd way that perhaps was just another indicator that mutants were never really fully human. There were always something unique – and sometimes it became apparent in something as simple as crying. When a mutant lost control… things were different.

Then Devon was begging for another chance – another chance at what Samael wasn’t sure. Was he now acknowledging the lack of trust after the intimacy of sharing secrets? Or was it something else? What wasn’t on purpose? Samael uncrossed his arms and cross the short distance between them, placing a hand on each of Devon’s shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Devon,” he said softly, “Relax. Explain all you need, though you don’t have to.”

“I want you to know, however, that I have not been in your head at all,” he added, “I didn’t need to be. I know you have your secrets, perhaps even your own sins, but I know you are not a bad person who intends to hurt people.”

Devon’s body was truly twitching. He was struggling to keep it together, concentrating to bring things back to normal. He knew he was losing it and he wanted so desperately to hold the weather together. Again, his emotions had gotten the better of him all because Samael had asked about a tornado.

Did he believe the Inquisitor? He came up and squeezed Devon’s shoulders, who in return stared back at Samael with a furrowed brow. The thunder boomed twice more, but it was quieting. The wind started to subside but only just, the trees still contorting much like Devon’s arms and shoulders were.

“Okay, okay,” Devon stuttered, nodding fervently. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It just sounded like-“ He turned around, gesturing with fluid motions. The snow clumps dispersed to flurries as he tried to bring his breath back to normal. He inhaled deeply as he turned back around, lowering his arms but inclining his head. He was still shaking, though at least the temperature remained warmer.

“Thank you, I’m sorry. I’m not alright, I said, you know,” the black-eyed boy sighed. “I don’t want to hurt people… I’m not like that kid.” He shook his head, “But can we change the subject? I need to calm down.” Another deep breath followed his curt tone.

“Sometimes I’m not rational, but I don’t mean not to be, you know?” he asked with a frown. “This is why I said your mother… Look, nevermind, I’m sorry, again,” he nodded once more. “You okay? You seem fine,” he stepped back a pace, glancing around awkwardly.

“You don’t drink- You don’t work- You like to see movies or read or something?” Devon asked, desperately trying to find a new subject. “I do. I think it’s important we have mundane interests too. Our powers aren’t us; I won’t let mine be.” He shook his head and inhaled again.

The trees were no longer cowed, but the breeze remained to eagerly stir the faint snow and the churning clouds. Devon ran a sleeve over his face and nearly growled, shaking his head. He didn’t look very happy with himself, but he scowled often enough anyway.

((OOC:
Bipolar: Low State. Highly Emotional State: Sorrow.
Second post spent to maintain weather, though still upset.
))

The weather had seemed to go more than a little crazy with the thunderstorm previously, the wind, snow flurries. It had essentially gone nuts as Devon lost control of his emotions. Samael appeared concerned, though part of him was rather detached as he took note of it all. What would happen if the guy truly lost control? Hurricanes? Tornados?

As he grasped Devon’s shoulders with gentle hands, Samael noted that things seemed to subside just a little. The guy took a step back from him and seemed to calm the weather down even more with a little more work from his powers, for which Samael was grateful. Things remained warm but he wondered about the surrounding area.

Devon spoke of how he wasn’t alright, and that much was obvious to Samael. Truly the boy seemed more than a little troubled and Samael wasn’t really sure what the root cause of it all was. It was tempting to just go look, but he chose not to. Devon would never know, but… the guy seemed to trust Samael, and for once Samael felt like maintaining that trust both ways.

“I understand,” he said, “None of us are rational all the time, trust me.” He gave a small chuckle, “But I do, I do understand what you are saying.”

Devon asked about mundane interests and Samael shrugged slightly, “I…. rarely have time for them, to be honest, between church and my work and research. You could say I read a lot, however it most likely is not the same things that you read.” Samael watched Devon curiously, “I know you believe I take things too far, and perhaps am overzealous, but perhaps some time you would come pray with me. You may find it brings peace and you don’t even have to believe everything. I have faith you will feel it.”

“You don’t have to though,” he said, then smiled as Devon wiped his eyes and seemed irritated by it, “It is okay to cry. All men should sometimes.”

“Thanks,” Devon said quickly, the annoyed tone still present. He wasn’t annoyed with Samael; he was annoyed with himself. He’d overreacted, letting his thoughts and fear run away from him. He knew he got emotional over such things, but it was hard to control. Things had been very close to getting out of hand. How many times was he going to let that happen?

“You mean the Bible?” he asked, sounding tired now. Every few minutes he would turn and look off in a different direction, his eyes still awash with night. As he calmed, so too did the weather but he’d disturbed the local area. Currents had been set off incorrectly, flowing away while the atmosphere had been unbalanced by the colliding pressure systems and increased temperature of his anger. He could see the chaos clearly.

“I don’t mind praying. I do it plenty,” Devon said, not sounding any less happier. “I’ll go, sure, but I don’t like churches.” He shook his head, “Doesn’t feel right to me, like I said. I’d rather pray under the open sky, or more likely above the clouds. It’s amazing at dawn.”

A slow, deep breath came with that thought. Those were some of his favorite memories: the first sunrise above the clouds, floating over a thunderstorm, seeing the sunset into the ocean. “And I wasn’t exactly crying. I was upset; it happens,” he shrugged as he moved a hand through the air, closing it into a fist.

The winds quieted further and the clouds thinned above as the flurries floated normally down over them again. The warm air heated each flake into a small droplet of water that Devon let fall between them, but not upon them. “But yeah, I got you. In every life a little rain must fall,” he smirked.

“You should make time for movies and other books, too. They tell a lot about people, not like the characters do I mean,” he shook his head. “But how people are doing. When people are trying to get away from things they go to fantasy movies. Feeling powerless? Go to an action movie. Stuff like that. It’s sort of therapeutic I guess.”

((OOC:
Bipolar: Low State. Highly Emotional State: Sorrow.
Second post spent to maintain weather, though still upset.
))

Samael could tell that Devon was still annoyed, though it did not seem directed at Samael himself this time but perhaps rather the things Devon was feeling and the lack of control he currently had over the weather around them. Though the weather control seemed to be fixing itself rather quickly, which was good all things considered. No need for a blizzard in DC this time of year, after all.

Devon questioned if he meant the bible, and then talked about how he disliked churches and preferred praying under the open sky – or apparently also praying way high up in it. Samael pondered what the dawn must look like above cloud levels. Very bright, he supposed. And very cold. He also didn’t understand how Devon disliked churches, as Samael loved them so much. Large or small, if they were well tended they were places of God and places to relax. He didn’t even mind the opulence of so many of them, after all the people had tithed to build it, and if they didn’t like it they would give their money elsewhere. A well made church reminded people of strength and of the power of God, it gave them strength which was something that lasted far longer than a simple can full of beans. Samael got the feeling that might be Devon’s biggest issues with the churches, he was sure the guy would find them hypocritical – that or maybe just claustrophobic, though that might be odd considering the very definition of a cathedral ceiling.

Samael watched as the winds seemed to quiet down even more at Devon’s urging and he watched the guy work, somewhat curiously. Throughout their conversation Devon seemed to change direction as if taking care of each of the cardinal directions’ weather bit by bit, and indeed perhaps that is exactly what he was doing. It made Devon’s power seem quite epic in proportion.

“I make time for movies and television sometimes,” Samael said almost slowly as if unsure of himself, “Just not… too often. I think sometimes people escape too much rather than face reality.” He didn’t add that he did not want to be seen as gluttonous or slothful either by attending too many, as much as he’d like to see some of them. He always had to be careful, the seven sins were always right there tempting you. He eyed Devon curiously, seven deadly sins indeed.