Something Wicked This Way Comes (Closed)

The previous several days in DC had certainly been interesting, that was for sure. With the odd meetings, and all of the wicked, wicked sinners he had found – and oh had he found many. DC was a corrupt town, full of corrupt politicians, lawyers, and everything you could think of. They were everywhere, all trying to get ahead at the cost of their fellow man. Lust, greed, and all of the lies… the city was overflowing with them.

This evening he was doing more of the same, trying to hunt out a few more before he left back for New York City, his real home. He had decided to try to nip some of the problems early on, and so found himself at the George Washington University library in the early evening hours. This is where many young politicians and political lawyers got their start. This was where sin took hold and grew. Luckily Samael was here to stamp it out – by whatever means necessary

So now, he found himself wandering through the massive library, one used by a university whose numbers were over 20,000. It was a large story structure the size of a small block, full of reading rooms, stacks, computer areas, study areas. He listened in here or there now as he walked, making use of his newer abilities. It made it much easier to find the quietly wicked. The one whose outward appearance showed nothing and who covered their tracks far too well to get caught.

So Samael wandered, looking left and right now and then. So many young people. Even though Samael was the same age as many, he felt far older at times with all of the things he had seen. With all of the things he had had to do. If only they knew the burdens he bore for so many of them.

Eventually, he found what he had been looking for. A college senior. Tall, handsome, nice shoulders, sexy jawline. He had no problem with the women at all. But that was the problem with him – it was too easy. So he went for the few who didn’t want him. A rapist. Though this one was clever about it. Samael delved into his memories from a distance and saw that he had done it several times wi thout getting caught, usually getting his targets drunk or even drugging them. Or just picking ones he knew had a history and it would never stick.

Samael reclined in a ch air and pretended to read for a while as he watched the young man. Then he slowly got up and found a nearby study room – an actual study, actually, with multiple chairs and bookshelves liking the walls, a couple windows facing the outside street. It was perfect. Returning to the doorway, he stared at the college senior for several long moments. Then, like it was his own idea, the young man stood, and come into the study where Samael was.

Samael made sure they were alone in this section of the library and turned to the young man, “Mymy, you have been naughty, haven’t you?” He started to walk in a circle around the guy, his hand retrieving his rosary and twisting it around his wrist, “Be sure not to make m uch noise, we wouldn’t want anyone to come by and hear you confessing, now would we, my dirty little rapist?”

The man sort of blinked and started to try to run, but something grabbed hold of him and flung him back into the wall before letting him drop, at which point the guy fell to his knees. Samael walked up to him, towering over the guy, “You have been a wicked little boy. Are you going to confess on your own, or am I going to have to force it out of you? Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind forcing it, not after what I’ve seen…”

Devon was balancing sight-seeing, training and some education. Today he was going to do all three. George Washington University was a beautiful and prestigious school. With his leather jacket pulled on over his hoodie, he traversed the campus and even chatted with a few students. Maybe he’d missed out not getting to go to college. It seemed there was a lot of fun to be had in between classes.

The old statues of past professors and politicians were striking. The easy views of the Lincoln and Washington Memorials as well as the White House were prime. The proximity to Dupont and his stomping grounds since he arrived made it an easy visit. It wasn’t all eye candy, however. He’d swiped a student id from a group he’d chatted with so he could get into the library.

It was massive collection of buildings to form a new fortress of learning. How wonderful was that? They guarded their knowledge because you had to pay for it. Heaven forbid they share information to form a more perfect union. Now why did that sound familiar?

Devon was looking for books on meteorology but also aeronautics. His run in – if you wanted to call it that – with the plane had given him questions and he’d realized, he hadn’t done any reading, even light reading, in a while. Understanding how planes, helicopters worked could help in the future. What if he had to stop one instead of help one next time?

Picking up a book on plane design, actual aeronautics, and stratospheric phenomena, Devon settled into a study room with a number of college students and the odd professor or two. With some of them it was hard to tell which they were. He read up on lift, drag and how propulsion figured into the movement. Wind still played a huge role, just not like it did a bird of a flying mutant.

Reading the science book, however, wasn’t as easy with a limited knowledge of chemistry let alone physics. Physics could help with aeronautics too. He was reading things three times and still struggling, especially with all the study groups chatting about where to party and what songs they had on their iPods and… Devon had thought this room was for studying, but it turned out it was social academic hour.

Thankfully, he could pack up and rummage around for a quiet area. The place was huge after all. If he was going to read on how thin ozone layer areas meant more solar radiation and thus increasing stratospheric temperatures, more low pressures systems, and shifting particle charges to produce localized pressure drums in the air, he really needed a bit more peace. With books in hands, blue eyes peered up the levels of stairs and up he went.

He found a deserted area seemed set aside for finance and tax law. No wonder it was desolate here. It was a few floors up and the air was relatively still. He’d just sat his books down on a desk in a back nook when there was a loud grunt and a bam from a room nearby. What was this? If a bunch of coeds were having sex up here, Devon was going to… Well, he’d probably take out his camera and film it maybe. That’d be hilarious. Oh YouTube.

Coming down one of the stacks, Devon heard a familiar voice. It was creepy, but he wasn’t sure how he knew it. Confess and force what? Oh no, really? What was that guy doing here, studying theology and finance?

Dressed in near black jeans, a black t-shirt with that same gray hoodie and an open leather jacket, Devon came around a corner and saw an open door way. There were a few books astray on the floor and there was a sort of wimper coming from the room? This definitely didn’t sound good.

Blue eyes bore into Samael’s back as Devon stepped into the doorway. “What the hell are you two doing in here? I’m trying to-” He glanced down at the larger guy on the floor, who was holding a shoulder as if pain.

“Leave him alone,” Devon said, his voice an icy calm.

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael stared down at the college senior who trembled on his knees in front of the Damned would-be priest. The guy seemed to be in shock, not answering Samael at first. Samael could wake him up. There was a loud crack as a strong force slammed into the guy’s back, driving him forward and then immediately yanking him back up into his kneeling position.

“I said: Confess,” Samael said calmly, staring at the man, “Confess your sins. Ask Him for forgiveness and you may receive it, if you are truly repentant. Do you understand? Do you understand what you have done?” There was a loud crack as the force of an imagined club struck the young man’s shoulder who muffled his cry of pain. “Confess,” Samael repeated, “And be saved.”

But then, there was a voice behind him. How had he missed that? Samael really should have heard him coming, but he had let himself get too carried away again with his job.

He turned his head slowly and raised an eyebrow when he saw Devon. The man on the floor looked towards Devon and opened his mouth to ask for help, then abruptly closed it, unable to.

Samael turned to fully face Devon now, and he shook his head a bit, “Good to see you again, Grey. Though this is probably not the best time for a chat. I’m working.”

Confess and be saved?

This guy was absolutely insane. Devon was also starting to feel this was a bit more supernatural than he had wanted. He didn’t know what was going on, but it didn’t sound like anything normal. There was that and there was also a jock whimpering on the floor. That didn’t seem right when White Leather was more or less… less.

Devon didn’t dare take his eyes off of the tomato soup-sipping Inquisitor before him. He saw that the boy had tried to talk, but had said nothing. Was it fear or something else keeping that tongue from wagging? The Inquisitor had been demanding a confession…

“Working?” Devon laughed. “Sounds to me like you’re attacking someone in a library study room. I don’t think you’re campus security.” He shook his head, “Maybe you should consider a change in career, yeah?”

Devon nodded this time, “Leave him alone. Dude, get the hell out of here right now.” He was talking to the one on the floor, but again he didn’t look away from White Leather who stood only a few feet from him.

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

The man kneeling on the floor looked towards Devon, hoping somehow that this other young man would save him and he can’t seem to save himself. He can’t run, he can’t call for help. Was Devon his savior?

Samael raised an eyebrow at Devon’s laugh. This boy was confident – or stupid. If he was confident in the face of all this, that meant that there might be something else afoot…. But what? Why would somebody, when confronted like this, not freak out and call for help? Run away? Attack?

Samael smiled, “You are correct, I am not campus security. You could say I take my orders from someone higher in the food chain.” Then Devon told the guy to get out of there, but the guy just stayed where he was.

“I can’t!” The guy said in almost a hushed whisper, too soft to really be heard outside the room. “I can’t leave! What’s he done to me? Oh God!”

Samael chuckled again and eyed Devon, “No, I won’t be leaving him alone. You see, Jason h ere has been a very wicked boy. Haven’t you, Jason?”

The guy kind of went wide eyed, “How do you know my name?!”

Samael looked back to the guy again, “Why don’t you tell my friend here exactly why you’re so wicked.” There was the sound that almost sounded like a whip snapping and the guy’s body jerked and he stifled a cry. “Confess!” Samael said again.

The guy looked sadly at Devon, “I’m a rapist. I’ve raped four women. Girls, really. And I was about to do it again. And I stole some frat donations. And I lied on me-“ His reply was cut off.

“Enough!” Samael said, “The rest of your sins aren’t worth mentioning.” He then turned his gaze on Devon with a slight smirk, “Still want me to leave him alone?”

Devon stared at what he was seeing with a look of horror upon his face. When the boy – Jason – called out to God, Devon looked upon the White Leather Inquisitor with a look of disgust. This was power at work, supernatural powers. Was he a mutant?

His crystal blue eyes mirrored a tragic scene of admittance when Jason revealed – no, was made to say what he had done. Devon swallowed hard and uncomfortably at this turn of events. The tone the Inquisitor was using made it even more sickening.

“Yes,” Devon answered Samael immediately. His face flushed red as he continued, “Do you know what rape is? It’s about control, taking away someone’s control and keeping it all for yourself. You like that power over someone?”

He shook his head quickly and violently, “I’ve had my head shrunk enough. I know a lot about what gets people ticking. This is absolutely damning! He’s not even confessing unless he chooses to. You’re making him. You’re taking a mundane crime, a horrible mundane,” he glanced at Jason, “but mundane crime and making it a supernatural fiasco. You think you’re supposed to do this to people? What the hell is wrong with you?!” Devon screamed.

“You’re raping his mind, raping him of his free will… If you knew something was wrong, you tell the cops. This is not… You’re attacking some guy in a library for God’s sake!” Devon shouted.

“Let him go!” Devon screamed again as his eyes ran as dark as midnight. Outside a ferocious gust roared past the library, trees bending from a sudden downdraft that was clear through the windows. In the room the air grew still save for the whistling wind whipping at the glass.

“This is not right,” declared the black-eyed savior.

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
Emotional state rising but no percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael, keeping the college student where he was, calmly waited and listened as Devon spoke. He smiled slightly as Devon went on about knowing what rape is, control, and power over people. How little this young man knew. Did he consider politicians with their lobbyists rapists as well then? Samael was actually almost sure he did.

He watched as Devon’s eyes went black and the room went still, the wind picking up outside. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. Mutant then? Something else? He definitely played with wind. And those black eyes, oh so intriguing they were. They made Samael smile slightly.

“A mundane crime? Is that how you see rape then? Just something mundane and normal?” Samael asked before immediately continuing, “Taking away his free will? What about the free will of the women – yes several – that he raped? What about their free will?”

Samael cocked his head to the side, “And really? Go to the cops?” He took a few steps towards Devon, “Are you really so naïve? How endearing… And tell them what? That this man raped four different women? And I know because I can see in his head? There’s no evidence. The women wouldn’t testify, or would be shamed away by their own previous crimes. And what would happen to this wicked man here? Why… nothing.”

He took another step forward, “So tell me. Since you seem to know everything. What should I do with him? I should just let him go? To go off and rape some more? You would be responsible for the next woman it happened to then. Is that what you want?”

“Are you really this fucked up?” Devon asked incredulously. “Sounds like all you can do is twist my words. Why’s that? Avoidant? Yeah I know what that is too. You’re avoidant because you feel guilty.”

“Have you ever even considered another means? Or can you see the future too? And what does making him talk do? He could still do it again?” the blue eyes returned as Devon’s questioning went on. “You going to do something worse? Is this God’s work you think you’re doing?” he laughed.

While shaking his head, Devon leaned in closer, “You’re pathetic if you think I meant just go randomly announce someone’s guilt at the cops. Why not have him do it? I mean, really… You know he might have a serious mental problem and disturbed background for that kind of shit…”

Devon leaned back and shrugged, “And maybe he doesn’t, I don’t know. Just because you can get into someone’s head doesn’t mean you go barging in there and play Judge and Jury. You’re fucking up the world, idiot. People like you, using your powers like this… This is why the government is coming down on everyone.”

His upper lip curled at the corner, “Rape isn’t normal, but it is mundane. It doesn’t take any super power to do it. But what you’re doing is a perversion far beyond natural, and making the excuse of using it on a rapist doesn’t make it any better.” He gestured down to Jason, “You’re just pushing him and proving you’ve got the bigger dick. Well aren’t you special.”

“You’re so,” he drew out the word as he gazed back at Samael, “virtuous. Well good for you. If he rapes again, I’m not responsible… He is. He’s fucking up his life while he ruins the lives of these women.” Dark curls swirled over Devon’s blue orbs as he glared this time at Jason, “And you’ve gone and caused this crazy shit. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Devon made an exasperated sigh as he flicked his hands away from him, dismissively. “I don’t know what you can do, Inquisitor, but beating up and making a guy – anybody – plea and cry before you doesn’t solve anything. It’s disgusting and if you don’t see that, you need help yourself.”

Now he laughed as he gestured to himself, “Listen to me! Wow, how the hell did I get here?” He shook his head, “Send him to the cops. Send him to a shrink; God knows he needs it. But if he doesn’t make the decision to change, to feel bad for what he’s done on his own then you’re perpetuating the theft of free will and the dominance of control…”

He inhaled sharply as the gusts outside quieted. “Yeah, I know… It would still save the next woman. I sure hope in prison he’s the biggest guy walking around,” Devon smirked down at him. “What the hell is wrong you?”

Devon shrugged again, locking gaze with Samael and leaning toward him, “So what do you plan to do do? Lobotimize him? Make him piss himself? Or are you just going to end it? It sure seems to me like you learned your morals from one place only and forgot to pick up something on ethics.”

A hand rose, gesturing behind him, “I bet we could find you something.”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael just watched Devon for a long while as the young man ranted and raved, seemingly without end. Meanwhile the college student just stayed on his knees, quivering occasionally and was either unable or unwilling to move. Either way, he certainly didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

Devon said that Samael was virtuous, and Samael nodded in agreement with a slight smile. Indeed he was. He did the Lord’s work after all, with his gifts. Of course he was virtuous, even if he was a sinner in his own way at times.

He just chuckled slightly as Devon continued, going on and on and drawing his own conclusions. Samael shook his head slightly, smiling again at the talk of ethics. Where did ethics fit in? Samael did what was necessary because no one else would. No, because no one would could. That was his gift, his right, and his burden.

“For all that you complain about what I do, it seems you certainly judge rather quickly yourself,” he said, still smiling, “You do not know my intentions. You only know that a serial rapist is now being made… slightly uncomfortable… as he confronts the enormity of what he has done. Yet you feel the righteous one.” He shook his head, “You don’t really appear any better than I do.”

“As to what is going to happen to him. Well, the severity of the punishment is commensurate with the harshness of the crime,” he said, “First, they must confess their sins outloud, and see what they have done. Yes, I coerce this from them. I give them the opportunity to do it willing as well, but they never – ever – do so. Not until it is too late.”

“This one,” he said with a glance towards the young man, “Has been very naughty. He fucked these girls up pretty bad mentally, but at least he had the decency” – he gave a slight cough of laughter – “to not harm them physically. But it looks like he would never turn himself in. So what I would normally do, and what I will do, is send him in to confess fully.”

He looked from the student back to Devon, “And truly I have no idea why I am bothering to justify myself to you.”

“You attacked a guy who didn’t do anything to you because you can read his mind apparently, so that gives you the right?” Devon smirked. “I didn’t say I was righteous… And I didn’t say I was better than you…. But if I am, I wouldn’t be surprised. So stop putting fucking words in my mouth, loser.”

He laughed, “They call me arrogant, right… You sound like a psychopath. I can’t believe I have to stick up for a crazy asshole because a crazier one attacked the other in a library. This…” Devon looked around. “This is my life right now. Awesome,” he finished with a sarcastic tone and a smirk.

“You know I don’t know why you’re bothering either, unless of course you are struggling with your motivations and behavior. You know, because, well, your powers are letting you feel like a big man and you’ve gone crazy. Did God come down and tell you to do this in his name? No… You just decided, ‘Well gee, I have this power and I see bad thoughts cause he did a bad thing so I’m going to make him pay.’”

Devon shook his head, “Fucking wonderful. Well I can’t stop your mental mumbo jumbo, so go ahead and knock him around again. I hope that makes you feel better before you send him in to confess for the police. Hope you know what those girls want too.”

With that, Devon turned aside so as not to put his back to Samael but clearly he was now heading out the door. “At least get rid of the white leather, you ain’t so pure,” he mocked before walking out of the room.

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
Tempest is getting aggravated but no percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

“I did not attack him,” Samael said, “I did what was necessary. I punished. I taught. Using the powers given to me by God himself, doing his work, and his duty. Do you think he was all compassion with no punishment? Have you read the Bible?”

He continued to listen as Devon went off again and was apparently growing more frustrated. He accused Samael of being egotistical, which Samael knew he struggled with. It was a fine line between having the confidence to do God’s work while not being overly Prideful, yet another sin. He failed sometimes, but he always atoned, and he had bled and had the scars to prove it.

Then Devon started backing away. “Some of the girls might not want it to come out – but it has to, because there will be more girls. I can’t just stop him from every doing it again, it doesn’t work like that,” he said, his voice growing a little harsher. Then Devon felt a force press into him from in front and pull him through the air back into the room, plastering him back first against the wall just next to the door as Samael stalked forward towards him.

“Do you think this is easy?” Samael asked. “Do you think I chose this life? What would you do with it? What would you do when you encountered a murder, a rapist, a child molestor, a serial abuser? Would you let them go? Ask them nicely to stop?” His voice broke slightly as he spoke again, “I didn’t choose any of this. But I saw it every day. I let the first ones go after some punishment, after they promised to stop. But you know what? They never do.”

He let Devon go, looking away, “I do what is necessary. My power comes from a higher power, and I have to use it to stop the wicked.”

When asked if he read the Bible, Devon could only laugh loudly. He’d read it more than most he knew. His father saw to that. He could have spelled that out, recited verses even but he had nothing to prove to this guy.

“Whatever,” Devon commented flippantly as Samael went on about the girls. He was gone; he was leaving. This was ridiculous and he wanted no part of this insanity. Unfortunately it seemed he had no choice.

He felt the pressure on his body and he struggled as he was drawn back into the room. For a moment he struggled to breathe, surprised by the power that held him and kept him against the wall. With surprisingly azure eyes he stared at Samael as he went into the common villainous tirade of guilty self-assessment.

Boo hoo. Life was so hard when you had super powers. I could win every poker tournament but instead I break into people’s thoughts and then torture them for all their past misdeeds because God gave me these powers. How ridiculous did this sound?

“What a fucking martyr. Your life is so horrible because you know what people did. Well, I’m sorry. There’s horrible shit going on in the world. Stop looking. You want to do something? Stop people that are actively getting attacked, at least then you’re preventing what you know is happening, not what you think is happening,” Devon spat quickly.

“A couple weeks ago, I saved a whole plane full of people from crashing. Did I stomp around asking for credit, a thank you, a reward? No. Because people like you have everyone terrified!” he shouted. “If I’d have said a word, I’d have gotten blamed and probably shot dead. I didn’t do it because any told me to; I did it to help stop something terrible when I knew I could try.”

“You on the other hand seem to think it’s right to do whatever you want because Oh God gave me this power. What proof you have of that? Seems you’re the one who wanted confession. If you wanted to bellyache to me like I was your shrink, all you had to do is ask. You didn’t have to,” and as he continue his voice grew louder and deeper, clearly angrier, “use your telekinetic bullshit on me, drag me back in here and throw me up against a wall! That’s a fucking theft of my free will, asshole. Way to cross another line.”

Devon reached into his collar and drew out his cross, the chain clutched in his right fist, “I’ll be sure to pray for you tonight. I’m going to pray some guy in a different colored coat shows up and teaches you a lesson next. I hope you enjoy that spanking, you fucking asshole.”

“Now can I leave or you going to just decide you want more of my attention? Seems like I should be billing you for the psych visit.”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
Emotional state rising but no percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Devon’s flippant and accusing attitude put Samael on the defensive. He’d told Devon things he hadn’t vocalized to a single soul on this planet, but here the young man sat accusing him, yelling at him, and worse. It made Samael want to lash out, but he held himself back.

“A martyr?” Samael asked in response to the accusation, “I don’t believe I ever complained about what I do. I said I was given a power, and a duty, and it is not difficult to deal with. But I never made myself out to be a martyr. Perhaps you are projecting.”

“I don’t make it worse for anyone else, mutants or otherwise,” he added, “I’m careful to make sure they can’t talk about what happened. Confessing is always their idea, the guilt surely overwhelmed them.” He smiled thinly, “I am not stupid.”

He watched as Devon equated telekinesis to sapping away free will, and then whipped out a cross. Samael had to admit he was surprised to see the young man wore one, and just the sight of it softened him slightly. “Is it any different than if I was a strong man who grabbed you by your shirt collar rather than used my powers?” he asked, “I think you have your own power issues.”

He shook his head slightly, “This part of it all is kind of new to me, and maybe I am still learning, but at least I’m trying to do good. I spend my nights hunting down criminals in the act, like you said, but this… I want you to think about what you would do if you walked through a room and the loudest person in the room was showing you, in great detail, how he had raped a woman and how there was no proof and he would never be caught. What would you really do to make sure he didn’t do it again?”

Again, his head shook, “Just go. You don’t understand – they never do.”

Devon groaned, “You’re getting on my nerves.” He sighed, “You are acting like a martyr. You’re even doing it now. Trust me, I know projection. I’ve had to talk about it like three or twenty times.” His voice was sarcastic but he wasn’t kidding, “I don’t think you’re stupid but you sure aren’t thinking things out.”

“I sure have power issues. Clearly I think about it more than ya,” Devon nodded. “It’s quite different than a strong guy. Anybody can take the time and develop muscles. I don’t think anybody can just do what you do. I mean, especially if God came down and told you, ‘Hey, want to punish criminals? Here you go.’”

Devon smirked, blue eyes remaining on the Inquisitor, “I heard something before I came in here. It wasn’t merely talking. You threw him or something… Know what happens when cops do that to criminals for no reason? They get put off the force or suspended. Be careful or I bet the heavenly choir will come down and bench you.”

“Take this as pause for some reflection. I fucking hate you’re making me think back on my own shit, but I guess I’m glad it’s coming in handy and if it helps… Whatever,” Devon sighed, shrugged, groaned and nearly spat.

“I don’t think I can truly understand what’s going on, but I’m telling you it’s not right. If only you’re seeing it, and you’re just seeing memory, then you’ve got to find a better way to do this. I’m glad at least to hear you do try to hunt down people actually committing crime. Letting it happen and then punishing would just be so hypocritical I’d have to punch you.”

“So make him go confess to the police, keep him from disclosing… well, all this,” Devon said with an incline of his chin. “But quit the bullying, I’m the high mighty angel of vengeance shit. It ain’t helping whomever he hurt and it’s just you showing off on him. Hell, a little less obvious origin for what fear you’re putting in him would probably serve better anyway.”

“Symbols of God are far more powerful than some dick in a white leather jacket yelling at you because he’s angry he has to hear your thoughts,” Devon continued the tirade. “Help but… don’t show off. He’s a jerk college kid who’s committed crimes, not a super powered jerk trying to take over Tokyo.”

Devon crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive gesture. Did he actually enjoy trying to talk people through their shit? This was a frightening realization.

“And then you can talk to me more about help me understand, if you want,” Devon paused, “Over dinner. No deli sandwiches.”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
Emotional state relaxing and no percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Samael shook his head as he listened to Devon. This guy clearly had his own issues and no clue what he was talking about. He didn’t know what it was like to be like this. To have this power, this burden, and to be able to feel exactly how disgusting these people were inside?

Throwing them against the wall? What was wrong with that? This guy had raped several women. Samael should kill him. Or rip his balls off. But tossing him into a wall? Way less than he deserved. Way, way, less.

But this guy in front of him seemed to be opening up slightly, talking a bit more about himself, and even offering advice. But even as Devon spoke, he knew they had things they may never agree on. “He’s not a super villain taking over Tokyo, man. But he’s a guy who ruined several women, and wants to do more. If you could just see inside his head…” He shook his head, “You could say I’m putting the fear of god in him. Showing him wh at can happen if he ever does this again – once he gets out of jail.”

Samael moved over to the man who was still kneeling and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back and staring into his eyes. The room was silent for a few moments and then Samael let him go. The guy kind of staggered to his feet and then moved towards the door in a daze, ignoring Devon as he went out into the library and off towards the downstairs.

Looking back at Devon, Samael sort of blinked, catching the last bit of what he said.

“What?”

“That’s a line you’ve chosen to cross,” Devon said. “I- I haven’t had to consider it yet. You are choosing you know better than the law people decided on for themselves. Maybe you should get into the legal field. This is D.C..”

“Want to be a lawyer?” he continued with a sarcastic tone. “Actually, at least you could choose to pick only honest clientele. Good, clean, whatever…” Devon quieted, however, as he saw Samael move closer to Jason.

A few moments passed before the kid was running out of the room. Devon watched him go warily, frowning and keeping his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t know what was happening; he didn’t pretend to understand or to even guess how it all worked

Apparently the Inquisitor hadn’t been paying attention. “Talk. Dinner. Nevermind,” Devon shrugged dismissively and looked out the windows. “I’m glad that’s…handled. I’m free to go then?”

Devon wasn’t sure he could trust this guy. He also wasn’t sure if the guy should be trusted out alone. Had he been scanning everyone in the deli? Had he been harassing Devon because of the deaths in his past? He had to know Devon didn’t mean to, didn’t want it to happen. He was trying to control his powers. Was he trying enough though? When had he had his last appointment?

Gray, punctuated by blue, stared back at white.

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
Emotional state relaxing and no percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Of course Samael had crossed that line. Somebody had to. Funny how everyone judged him but no one had a solution, or could say why it was bad to punch a rapist in the face. Wouldn’t most people really do it given the chance? Except for this blue eyed judge in front of him.

“Yeah, you’re free to go,” he said, “I wasn’t keeping you here, just for that.. that one comment.” Samael shook his head a little. He did feel a bit guilty about it, in some ways. But what did this guy expect to happen? His hand reached into his pocket and he gave his Rosary a squeeze as he deposited it there, glancing back towards Devon.

There was something haunted in those eyes, something that made Samael want to delve in there with his newfound powers and see, but he knew that was a sin and he had abstained from that generally speaking. When he went hunting now, he just… listened. There were things on the surface, and sometimes they just jumped out. But this wasn’t one of those times.

“Are you hungry? I’ll buy.”

“Yeah I could eat,” Devon said dismissively. “Something about having the gall to confront a guy who’s willing to confront a rapist made me hungry,” he added flippantly.

Despite his cavalier tone, he didn’t move. He looked awkwardly around the room, lingering on the spot where Jason had been kneeling for some time. He peered at the wall where numerous books had fallen to the floor and a few that were near the door beside his feet. His eyes went back to the Inquisitor.

Slipping his cross away, his hands went into the pockets of his leather coat. He inhaled sharply and then turned, walking out of the room with an unceremoniously long first step. Thereafter he moved aside so as to let the other guy pass.

“You want me to follow you or…” he paused, “Maybe meet you somewhere? I don’t know,” he asked in an awkward tone. “I had grabbed some books to read but I guess they’ll get put away.” He sucked on his lower lip for a moment, glancing into a stack of books and the direction of the study table he’d chosen.

“Whatever.”

((OOC:
Bipolar Disorder: Not this thread. Must be in next 2 threads.
No percentage chances necessary at this time. ))

Devon indeed had a flippant tone, though the defensive words and tone together made Samael wonder if in fact the young man had been scared of him. It was probably wise, all things considered, with everything Samael had done – and would probably do in the future.

He watched Devon for a long moment as the young man turned to leave and then took his time catching up to join him. Samael remembered how the young man had counted out change so carefully at the deli and wondered just how poor the guy might be. Maybe that’s why he had such a problem – he was a potentially powerful mutant, living a life of poverty, when if he let loose with his powers he could probably find a way to be rich.

As they walked, he glanced briefly towards Devon. They couldn’t go anywhere too nice, not in DC with him looking like that, but maybe they could find something enjoyable. “We can travel together, I’ll get us a cab if that works for you,” he said, “There’s a good burger place not far from here, if that sounds good to you.”

Devon wasn’t sure how to act around White Leather now. It was hard to tell how human he even was. By how much did he believe God had come to him, granted him power to confront the wicked, and then actually sent him along his merry way? Devon was inclined to believe that the Inquisitor at least believed it. He had that much conviction at least.

“A cab?” Devon asked when offered. That would probably be safe, except White Leather could control people apparently. Tornados and taxis didn’t mix; that’d be fine. “A cab… Sure. A burger place is fine, I’m not picky.”

Clearing his throat, he proceeded on his way, leaving the books he’d wanted to finish reading. His shoulders rolled back, Devon pulled up his hoodie and followed the white rabbit out. Where was the caterpillar?

Hopefully not in his cheeseburger.

Samael walked outside next to Devon and nodded, "A cab." It was mundane, but he still wasn't really used to flying yet, and there was always the possibility of being seen, or showing up on air radar in a place like DC. A person missile maybe? Not good. Samael didn't want to chance it.

Raising a hand, he hailed a cab and when it stopped, he opened the door and waited for Devon to get in before getting in to sit beside him. He told the drive to take them to a place called Black & Orange, and off the pair went.