A martyr and the damned

Escaping prison was something that Samael had never expected to actually do, and that was what made  being a fugitive from the law all the more annoying. His business was ruined, and he found himself without an apartment either. Likely that would have been a surprise to a few people, but overall something told him not many would be surprised the half demon was a felon. That was what lead him to Las vegas, on the phone as he stood on one of the many corners The City of Sin had. ”Yeah yeah, if this doesn’t work i’ll move in with you.” He said with a sigh, knowing at this point he had little room to deny any manner of hospitality.

”I have a feeling this isn't the first time you’ve said this.”

”I know, it’s just….trying the whole self-reliance thing ya know?” He said with a sigh, knowing he was also supposed to do the whole trust thing with significant others. ”Besides, don’t you have a few hatchlings to raise mister dad?”

”Yeah, but they’ve been begging to see the mysterious Sammy i’ve been talking about.”

”Get too sappy there Zeth and you might have me vomit.” He said with a chuckle, walking up to the seediest looking bar he could find, and it did look like the place he was looking for anyway. Adjusting his own sunglasses, despite it being night and he pushed past what looked to be a bouncer without even wasting a second.

”Should also introduce me to this Ashley guy I keep hearing about. I mean, if you want to add him to the fold.” He would have blushed and he did, cheeks turning a faint black color. The scent of smoke, booze and various other things could be sniffed out in the place.

”I’ll call you later. We can...explicitly skype or whatever.” This drew a pleased growl bordering on sexual from him, Samael then hanging up on. Slipping the smartphone into his left pocket, he coughed and ripped a drink from one of the thugs hands. ”I’m looking for Martyr! One of you bring him out here.” He called out as loud as he could, reaching a hand up and catching the pool stick aimed at his head, snapping it with a twist of the wrist. This was followed by him kicking the idiot across the room casually, likely seriously injuring him.

Settling down in a seat, he reclined and waited.

A man looked up from his glass at the mention of the name Martyr. He had been starting a crusade against the minor criminals in the city of sin. Those who refused to join his staff; were quickly dealt with. He had some scary people working for him. The man didn't like that.

He walked over to Samael. “I know the man you speak of, though his name speaks nothing of the monster unleashed upon this city. They say he works out of the casino on 45th street, and that he's kicked all the residents from their homes before selling their belongings.” The man spoke with a heavy Scottish accent, and wore an eyepatch that revealed the bottom of a scar underneath it. “They say he lives in the penthouse suite, watching desperate housewives. They also say he showers using his shampoo as body wash, and that he eats his fruit loops using the same spoon because “it's too hard to wash out another spoon”. They say his eyes blaze with fire and he shaves his chest. That way he has $47.38 in his wallet, along with a Mickey Roark trading card, a Visa card, a “I voted Nixon 2024” sticker, and a four leaf clover. They say his social security number is 263-15-6327.” The man seemed to continue rambling drunkenly about the Martyrs info.

Martyr walked out from a back room holding a mug of something as he looked around the room. "Someone is looking for me, eh? Come on then! Show your face!"

The Scottish guy turned to Martyr confused. "Who the heck is that guy?"

Someone came to him, reeking of fear and likely the cheap booze this place served. Most of it sounded ridiculous, especially within the given accent and he found himself smirking with each line that was meant to hype him up but ended up falling flat. All of it sounded likely Ashley, which meant he was following the right path in the city. ”have a little too much to drink old man?” He ask, raising a single brow skeptically, looking to anyone else within the room as if they were believing anything that this guy was saying. They only looked with abstract, shocked silence as the man continued to speak about things he knew nothing about.

That was when someone came on the scene, looking just as familiar as he could recall, with a face a mother and many others could love. Asking if someone was looking for him was just metaphorical icing on the metaphorical cake. Like a whip his hand launched his half drunk glass of scotch forward, careening towards Martyr’s head with exceptional force. If the durability he displayed before was still there, it would have done nothing more than shatter against his skull and leave him slightly damp.

”Right here Ashley. Thought I would have stood out being the only ginger that isn’t insane in here.” He pushed himself up from his chair, looking around to the others with silent challenge before turning to Martyr. ”Unless i’m not welcome in Martyr’s Vegas paradise.”

Martyr looked around the room, looking for the person who had asked for him. The glass of alcohol smashed into his head and he turned quickly. Realizing who it was; Martyr grinned. "Oh, hey Sammy!" He said as two of his goons went over to try and subdue Sammy. "Stand down guys, he's cool. He's like my brother."
Martyr said and the two goons backed back into the corner.

"Sammy, you know you are absolutely welcome here.
I just didn't think you'd want to join me. I mean, this is kind of a super-villain thing, you know. And you've always seemed like a uh..."
Martyr motioned with his hand as if trying to find the word. "A good guy?" A random drunkard in the back asked. Martyr blasted the guy with his eye beams. "What he said." Martyr said shrugging.

Ashley seemed to recognize him almost immediately, taking on a grin that almost immediately reminded him of the big goofy meta-human he had come to know. Two of his thugs were coming his way, looking to apprehend him, and Samael was more than ready to break a few of their bones. Without much visible motion, his fingers had already clamped around the hilt of a dagger on his back, before Ashley called them off with a single sentence. How they backed into the corner showed some degree of fear within them, likely a justified fear if half of the might he showed at the prison was true.

Being welcome here was a plus, though he had more of a reason to be here than just the pleasure of seeing his friends face. There was mention of this place seeming like a place for super villains, which did sound like something Ashley was trying to be but a good guy was not something he was. If anything, people would have argued he was evil if for nothing more than his infernal heritage. Adam at times sympathized with him if only for the same demonic blood running through him. His nostrils did drink in the scent of burning flesh when a bolt of energy released from Ashley’s eyes and immolate someone.

He lowered his sunglasses, letting the black eyes peak from behind them. ”Real sweet of you Ashley, but i’m kind of a wanted felon. 8 counts of second degree murder kind of removes me from the good guy spectrum, even if it was for a good reason.” He pushed the glasses back up, standing up and pouring himself a drink at the bar. ”Was hoping the up and coming kingpin of Vegas might be able to offer me some help. A job even if you aren’t one to give handouts.” Scotch poured into another glass, Samael placing a twenty on the counter. ”For the glass I broke.”

Turning back to Ashley he shrugged.  ”I’m sure you could go for a competent underling or two.”

Martyr had to admit. He hadn't ected his old roommate to come here asking for a job. Samael never seemed to be that bad. There were a couple instances where Martyr had wondered about the ginger haired meta. But this was usually just chalked up to heat of the moment.

Martyr nodded at the mans asking for a job. Samael was trustworthy if not entirely evil. Having an enforcer he could actually trust was a prospect he couldn't exactly afford to deny and it was always nice having him around.

”Sure, Sammy. I’d be more than happy to hire you. I mean, it's not like I had nothing to do with your business failure.” He said accepting the man's offer with very little prodding at all. A good kingpin needed a right hand man.

The old Scottish man returned to Martyr and Samael. “So, you are the martyr?” He asked raising a single eyebrow. Martyr’s eyes flashed with the orangish energy he had immolated the other man with momentarily. ”That'd be me.” He said grinding his teeth at the rude interruption. “You stole my casino, and killed my wife; Martyr. For this, you should be killed.”

With that, the man pulled a knife from its sheathe. A knife so sharp; it atomized the air molecules between the pair of people. At first, it seemed as though martyr wwe going to simply kill the man. Before something happened. The knife sliced through Martyrs left arm; severing muscle and bone. His arm fell away, leaving nothing but a stump. His arm was already beginning To cover itself with skin to avoid his death by bleeding out. Martyr himself was simply too stunned to do anything but look at his arm.

Samael could feel the that there was a jab somewhere within the statement, though he couldn’t help thinking that Martyr had no ill intentions. At least, not from what he could tell in any real capacity. ”Well, I look forward to working with you.” He said with a smirk, turning to someone approaching Ashley with purpose. Eyes black light night glared at him from behind his glasses, narrowing suspiciously as he called the metahuman out. His fingers clenched tightly, though he said nothing as the man called him out for what sounded like killing important people to him.

He expected Ashley to kill him without a thought, but something else happened entirely. Blood spurted, along with the sound if flesh and bone being sliced through with a single clean slash. ”You’ve got to be kidding me.” He growled, and with a quick movement before the man could react, a fist shoved itself through his chest from behind. Blood coated the hand, leather jacket pulled back enough to reveal glowing dark red lines along the flesh, from wrist and likely beyond. A heart was clenched within his hand, still pulsing with aortas attached.

”Now, you can join them.” He said a little darkly, cardiovascular muscle squished like a fruit. ”Anyone else have any grudges they want to act upon?” Ripping his arm from the chest of the now dead man, he flicked a few droplets of blood from his knuckles. Leaning over and taking the blade alive with vibrations as he looked to Ashley with what amounted to cocnern. ”So, can you reattach limbs or is it a lost cause?” He asked, picking up the dismembered arm with a free hand.

Martyr fell back into a chair stunned, when skin began covering the wound once more. His blood stopped, but the stump did nothing more than twitch as the pain sensors continued to go off. He hadn't expected such a thing to happen so soon. Martyr looked back to Sammy to see his arm plunge its way into the would-be assassins chest and pulling out what amounted to ground hamburger on his hands.

He was unable to speak for a moment, before Sammy looked at him. Then, Martyr grinned like a fool. "Guess I don't have to see if you're up to it, eh Sammy?" He said before walking over to the corpse and picking up the super knife.

He sliced it through the air; creating little streaks of lightning where the knife cut the air. "Hey, Sammy. You need a new knife?" Martyr asked kind of kidding, kind of not.

The thick scent of blood was pungent on his hand, causing a faint burning as Samael looked to Ashley with faint worry. No one challenged what he said, stepping back infear of the metahuman that had snuffed out a life with a single violent motion. For a moment he found himself  in a mode that was ready to kill, though that haze faded when he took notice of the grin that caused it to fade like nothing else. His own lips twisted into a small smile, and the anger abated as he casually kicked aside the corpse of the now dead man once Ashley had picked the knife up. ”I’m sure one of you do the dead body clean up. Get on that!” He said, clapping his hands loudly. Someone would walk up to them, dragging the corpse away to wherever they would place it.

Maybe a large vat of acid.

”A new knife huh? Guess I could take something like that, though the blade might be a little hard to make a sheath for.” He admitted taking the weapon and turning the blade around examining it. ”I’ll work on something, unless you have any science geeks around.” He mentioned with a single arced brow, noting the arm slowly beginning to repair itself. ”Looks like you’ll need a hand with the whole crime thing now.” He added with a faint chuckle at the terrible joke.

”So, I was thinking that he could get a drink and talk over the terms of my employment. Maybe...I dunno, catch up on what the big badass of Vegas is up to.” Despite how sarcastic his words could be taken, his tone suggested otherwise.

Martyr watched as one of his associates took the body away. He wasn't sure where he always took the bodies, he honestly didn't even care. The fact was that no bodies were ever solidly linked to him. Martyr had also had Mister Magnet disrupt the security cameras in order to avoid any video evidence against him. Really, the only thing police had was civilian witnesses. And most of them were too scared or too high to do anything about it. Yeah. Martyr loved Vegas.

Martyr shrugged at the question of the science geeks. I might have someone lying around. I'll see what they can come up with.
He said putting his stump of an arm on Sammy's shoulder, chuckling at the bad joke. "Luckily I've got the handiest meta-human in Vegas by my side." He grinned.

He nodded in agreement. "Let's go get a drink, and uh.
Catch up. It'll be fun. Like old times." He said without a trace of worry for his missing arm... although certain tasks would be difficult now...just had to take righty...

Samael nodded when finding someone was mentioned, growing more conscious about how he carried the knife within his hand. Not like he would want anyone else to take the knife and get any funny ideas when it came to Ashley. A second scare was not something he wanted to deal with, and cleaning up an entire casino of bodies would have also been a pain for him. There was no flinching from the stump settling onto his shoulder, Sammy looking over the people that turned their gaze from him and continued to drink their drinks. ”Could even say i’m your right hand man.” He lowered his glasses and offered a sly wink as the two made their way over to what looked to be the bar.

”I’ll have absinthe and get the big guy whatever he wants.” He hand waved the bartender, though he was sure they would be able to bring whatever the two wanted. The concept of catching up was nice, and so he rested his elbow on the bar and looked to the male with usual expression, if not somewhat softened. ”So how have you been Ashley? Been taking care of yourself?” He asked, more focused upon seeing to his well fare than anything else.

”I must admit i’m surprised you haven’t set yourself up in one of those big casinos lining the strip. You could totally rule this place if you wanted.”

Ashley laughed at the awful pun. This was another thing that he liked about Sammy. Even when things got messy, he didn't just turn around and freak out; instead. He made jokes about it. His arm was tingling, and it would likely be that way for a while. He'd have to learn to rely on his left hand for a little bit. He could also feel the serum wearing off, so he would have to return to base soon. But he wanted to talk with his old friend.

"I'll have a hurricane." He said to the bartender. He preferred fruity drinks because the taste of alcohol was extremely reminiscent of cough syrup. The grape kind. "I've been well, Sammy. I've been well. I've almost completely taken over the drug trade here in Vegas, and I'm in talks to merge my gang with a larger gang of dealers in northern Nevada. Plus, as you may have heard. I've bought myself a casino with some money I liberated from a Swiss bank." He said with a slightly smug look.

"That's a bit of a work in progress, Sammy. These days I've always got something planned." He grinned and tapped the side of his head before returning to a more serious look. "So...
How are you Sammy? I haven't seen you since... you know."

He couldn’t help feeling at ease with Ashley, though maybe that was just something he needed. Laughing even when one of his arms were severed, though that could have been fixed with a  few phone calls on his end. If the right people were willing to help. It was an unknown if Helios would have been up to making arms regrow, but money did manage to do a great many things. As the two set down to have their drinks, Sammy took his absinthe and down it with a single toss, letting the strong liquid slide down his throat. He listened to Ashley talk, tapping the bar which seemed like enough of a sigh that he wanted another drink, which came down in usual fashion.

”Sounds like you have things going pretty well down here.” He said, sounding somewhat content with the answer given to him, despite knowing his friend could do so much more. Ashley planning things ahead was a little surprising, though he tried not to undercut what looked like rising confidence. ”Well, hope I can factor in all of these plans you have in the future. You’ve got quite the future brewing here.” Then came the question about his own life, Samael downing another drink which steadily began to wear away at his tolerance. Luckily alcohol poisoning was a distant danger more than anything else.

”Life has been a little rough. Since I can’t have a normal job or keep my business going anymore since i’m a felon, have had to delve into less than legal jobs. Assassination and the like, killed a few people and made a pretty penny from it.” He tapped a fingertip against the bar, brows knitting into pensive formation. ”Came here hoping you could...help me in that. I mean, i’m not the type to take hand outs and I guess the job angle was something I meant.”

A second of silence existed. ”I also missed you actually.”

Martyr raised his glass to the mention of Sammy and the future. "Sammy, I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled at his best friend. He would take a sip from his fruity drink and listen to Sammy's story. Not even flinching at Samaels talk of killing people. It was a common thing to him now. Normal for a monster in the making.

After a moment, Samael told him that he missed him. At first, Ashley wasn't sure how to respond. It's not like he didn't miss Sammy, but. He looked at him and smiled again. "I missed you too, Sammy." He said and took another drink.

"I'm glad you found me, Sam. When playing with super-villains, you always have to watch your back. But with you?
I... I can trust you."

He would have had it no other way either. Well, he had a feeling he would hear about it later but then again Samael was known for dong what he wanted regardless of what most people thought. A man who thought himself a monster and a monster in the making, quite the pair they made. Not that he minded too much, though some might have even said that he was blind within a sense. He did find himself a little emotionally hit when the feeling of being missed was returned, even if it was likely just something being said.

”Yeah, you’re one of the few people I probably can trust. Glad the feeling is mutual, even if I am...whatever I am.” Without thinking about it, the glass within his hand shattered into fragments that slipped through his fingers. They didn’t cut him, but they did  prove annoying with the fluid that it once held. Samael ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at the small glittering fragments. ”Sorry...I...just a little stressed is all.” He sighed, wiping away the liquid on his palm against his pants.

”You can fly right? Wanna go for a little fly tonight?” He asked, standing up and stretching a little. He felt the same tingling sensation within his back, and had a feeling what that meant. The wings had manifested once when he was on the run, and they proved a saving grace when it came to escaping. Placing a few bills on the counter, and motioned for Ashley to follow him. This meant mostly walking into the small alleyway behind the place, Samael removing his leather jacket, and removing his shirt with a few motions, a blue of black motion causing large black feathered wings to form from his back.

They drew close to his pal figure, likely a new thing for Ashley. ”Pretty neat, right?” He asked with a smirk.