Reprieve [Martyr]

[Necros]

Necros aimlessly wandered the outskirts of Jump City. The delay was beginning to annoy him. He swiftly ran through a mental list of his allies, and came up with a grand total of one. And he was in no mood to think about her at the moment. He had been trying not to for a month now, with moderate success. But that wasn't good enough. When Necros decided to expel someone from his mind, he did, and that was it. If for some reason he had cause to recall them, he could do so in an instant. It was like he had vault in his mind for things that no longer mattered to him, and the combination changed each time he wanted to open it, depending on what it was he wished to retrieve. He hardly ever had cause to, but when he did, it was easy. Whatever it was that made him think of something was all it took to enable him to open the vault and examine the corresponding memories. But that was certainly not the case with Achema. He shook his head; thinking of her name only made it worse. His only ally was the one he might never see again. And even if he would, he needed more to join his cause. There were plenty of potential superpowered teens out there, but none were all for it, like Achema was. There was Spirit, and that menacing girl he had sparred with in the cave, not to mention the girl with elemental powers. Mori would probably work with him if persuaded correctly, though she would never agree to assist him with his ultimate goal. Still, she could help to further it, and he would work with Zethis if absolutely necessary. Azraiel could also prove an asset, though even if he wanted to join Necros officially, there was next to no chance that it would happen. Azraiel's type weren't the kind that Necros associated himself with. So he had one ally, two potential ones, two possibly necessary "evils" (the thought almost made him smile), and someone who just might work with him, even if it was just for laughs. But that wasn't good enough. He wanted definite allies.

He had made it a priority to examine all the major "attractions" in the city, though the Underground was the polar opposite of anything even reminiscent of that word, and the Carnival would have been laughable, if Necros had made it a habit to actually laugh. That completed, and after encountering some interesting characters, which consisted of some of the aforementioned possible allies, he just wandered the entire city, looking for more opportunities to turn fellow competent villains or misguided rogues to his cause. Achema had somehow managed to distract him from that. He hadn't really realized it until after she left, and a short amount of time leading up to the incident, but after he had met her he had spent more time talking with her than searching for possible recruits. Now that she was out of his head, he could focus on his main goal once again. ~Except she's not really out of your head. ~You think I don't know that? That's why I'm trying to get her out of it. And talking about her is not helping. Just thinking of her ruins days of work that I spend trying to rid myself of the memories. ~You know you sound like some love-sick- ~Don't start with me.[/i] The voice in his head grumbled for a few seconds before quieting. Necros glanced up at the sky, picking out Nevermore easily from among the fellow ravens with which he flew. He was accustomed to his companions teasing, acting like there had been something besides friendship between himself and the vampire. He could understand where it came from, but it could be slightly irritating at times, not to mention ridiculous. He had still been coming to terms with the fact that there was someone in his life that he had actually considered a friend before she had left, yet Nevermore acted as if there had been more to it than that. Which was impossible. Seeing as making a friend was a new and totally unforeseen accomplishment for Necros, talking as if Achema was his girlfriend was blowing things completely out of proportion, if you were fond of severe understatements.

He shook his head again, and turned his attention back to his current task. He hadn't met any other potential allies, which was strange considering his method of looking for them. With his telepathic abilities, it was easy for him to detect and identify those with powers, and separate them from normal humans. Their minds had a distinctive quality to them that those of humans lacked. It was universal for anyone that possessed unique abilities, usually the only thing they had in common with each other, although most of them didn't know it, seeing as most of them didn't have Necros' powers. He briefly wondered if it was the same for every empath, or if it was who he was that made him see it the way he did: it was like they had a layer of thin icing coating their every thought, lacing them with sugar and giving each one a mildly sweet quality that ordinary people just didn't have. But he had not tasted that for quite some time. The fact that he had not found anyone of interest lately made it seem as if everyone of any significance besides himself had just left Jump City altogether. Either that, or for some odd reason they all managed to be outside his range at all times, a difficult feat to achieve since it would require them to cram themselves into the same section of the city, which was bound to result in some conflicts much sooner rather than later. Whatever the cause, he hadn't found anybody worth considering lately, so he had reluctantly decided to head into the heart of Jump City today. He detested it, but he needed more recruits, and that seemed like the best place to look, considering he hadn't been there in a while, and that was the most likely place to find someone and determine whether they would be a good choice to consider allowing to join him. After a few more minutes of walking just inside the city limits, Necros turned and headed deeper into the chaos of the streets and human life, Nevermore following him inconspicuously through the sky.




((Don't mind the extremely long post. They're always like that when I start and/or join a new thread. I'll usually try to keep my posts the same length as those of the people I'm RPing with. And yes, I know I used the word "allies" a bit excessively.))[/size][/color]

[Martyr]

Day 413. Another twenty-four hours added to the date where she had escaped what she had thought was a family. It was a basic routine now. She’d get up, check if the gym was empty, fasten gloves over scarred palms, push the aerobics mat to its rightful place, sneak out the back, and head towards the bus stop to keep an eye on the liquor store while calculating the right time to get in and out. Salim had grown so accustomed to stealing and conniving and running by now, yet this ache in her chest would still not perished. Even now, as she perched herself upon the usual bench, foot tapping as she slyly awaited the cashier’s weakness of insight. How her face seemed so calm, yet each judgment declared war upon another in her mind, wondering what on Earth she had done to deserve this? How could something that was just so right and so perfect, be ripped from underneath her.

Unthinkingly, Salim Metternich scratched at her hands like the chicken pox. Why me? Why was I abandoned to deal with this… this THING alone? Why didn’t they stay by me to help me through this? Surely they knew what was wrong with me? Is that why they left me? Because they were aware I’d turn into this? A monster?! Continuing to treat her gift like it was the plague for the umpteenth time in her new life, her rose colored orbs caught a flicker of movement. Three, two, one… Ha, it was like clockwork. There goes the cashier hiking his feet onto the counter as he scanned through a magazine. Now it was ‘Martyr’s’ turn. With a pull of her hood and strings and the adjusting of her sunglasses, Martyr casually hastened into the store, short strawberry locks fanning behind her.

Breathe in, breathe out. C’mon Metternich, you can do this. It should be simple. Too simple in fact. But her breath still came slightly shallow as she strolled down the isle, quickly sneaking snacks until her pockets had no room to spare. Yeah, it was pretty easy, wasn’t it? Almost to the point where she felt no shame. Almost. “Hey, you there!” Glancing up sharply, cordovan met lazy green as the man had jolted into a standing position. “What’re you doing?!” How did this happen? What happened to ‘easy? Darting around, the teenaged girl finally discovered her flaw. Cameras. They must’ve set them up last night. Busted. With a silent curse, Martyr shoved the shelves and darted for the exit. But something snagged on her wrist, and one could almost hear her snap into a tense stance, before eyeing her soon-to-be prey. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“Please, let me go, and I won’t hurt you.” A voice as soft and as high tenor as hers only made the burly male laugh, his gut flaunting his mockery of her threat. Guess there was no alternative. With her free hand, Martyr twisted her hand to grasp her victim, already feeling a growth in her energy and strength. It wasn’t long until she kneed him in the stomach before pushing him down, and she was out of there, ignoring traffic and the bewildered looks on passerby’s faces as she bulleted across the street. That was close. Any further delay and she would’ve surely slipped with her powers. “Darn it.” Martyr grunted as her jaw clenched, retreating towards the bus stop and from there, through more people. Looks like she was going to have to arrange a few things in her schedule today.

[Necros]

There, finally. He didn't break stride, merely continued walking, altering his course slightly toward the east, the direction from which the sensation that was now a new point of interest for him was located. He could sense the blast of emotions that were the makings of adrenaline, a splash of discomfort, and the barest hint of fear. The person was female, and around his age, or what he thought was his age, but that was really all he could pick up from this distance. ~Find her. I want to know what she's doing and where she's going. A small drop of acknowledgment from Nevermore's mind, and then his companion sped away through the sky, continuing in the direction Necros was headed. The youth lifted one hand in front of his face and flexed his slender fingers, examining his pure white skin, and wondered what he was going to do about it. His "emo" disguise, the one he was currently wearing, which was also his only one, worked well enough, but it still should have been obvious to anyone with a brain that he wasn't human. And although they didn't act anything like it, he knew that humans did, in fact, have brains. Colored contact lenses took care of his eyes, his black, pointed fingernails could just be explained away as some weird thing that kids, especially stereotypical "creepy" ones, did, and as long as he didn't smile, which wasn't hard at all to accomplish, his fangs didn't show. His skin remained a problem, but so far he had not found a solution for it, and besides, he had other, much more important matters at hand now.

~She's heading for a bus stop. Some man in a nearby store is in obvious pain. She seems to be a petty thief. One who can take care of herself. ~She's still worth tracking. Which one?[/i] Nevermore gave him directions, and Necros teleported twice, almost like he was using checkpoints in a video game, finally reappearing in the shadows of two buildings. Nearby, he saw the girl he was looking for, looking around shiftily, and heading for the bus stop Nevermore had described. As he watched, she passed it, moving through a jostling crowd of people. His eyes narrowed: there was no way he was going into the middle of that heaving, revolting mass of humans. Levitating onto the roof of one of the buildings adjacent to him, he crouched silently, waiting to see where she would emerge, all the while monitoring her emotions, keeping track of her location. It would be interesting to see where this led. It always was.




((Not my best by a long shot, but I didn't have much to work with. No offense. I can often sound arrogant by accident, and if I did in this case, you have my apologies.))[/color]

[Martyr]

Some people -usually kids who did stupid stuff like this- would probably laugh it off and brag on how close that could’ve been. But Martyr didn’t find this situation amusing at all. Not only was she so close to being caught, but also if she had used her powers further, she most likely would’ve been found out as a freak, or a mutant. Of course, in her mind, freak suited her better. And then there was the problem of the regulars. Martyr hated the feeling of so many close bodies near her own. Their energies were too clean, too good to be true compared to hers. And with her stress, ache, and fatigue, it was hard to resist sucking their stamina dry. Still, Martyr amazingly made it through the humans, using almost all of the earlier brute’s energy. Someone was up late; the strawberry head had barely made it into an alley.

Chest heaving, Martyr slid down the wall until her backside had met the dirt. She peeled away her pathetic disguise of hood and glasses, shaking her hands through her hair. She shook off a glove with the help of her teeth, and fished for a random treat. “Down the hatch.” She muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at her now gruff nature. This was so demeaning; it made homeless people look good. She was given a powerful curse, and where was she? In the grim and possible diseases of some animals, munching away at Twinkies and Doritos. Well, it was enough to get her by, and that was all that mattered. Flexing her fingers, and ready to lick the cheese residue, she was unprepared for a jab at her hand and silently yelped. What now? Rolling the joints, she grit her teeth as she found the problem. Apparently the thug had more strength than she thought, for a yellow and purple bracelet of a bruise adorned her arm. “Perfect.” Where was a rat when you needed it? Or a guard dog would do. Anything to get rid of it.

But something else was off: the cliché feeling of eyes on her. Granted, it could just be the hangover of her adrenaline rush that made her so antsy, but considering how in tune she had been with her powers, her senses felt a lot sharper than they used to be. Probably because she wasn’t so carefree nowadays. That in mind, Salim shimmied back up the wall and headed towards the alley, head swaying up before around for any sudden movement. Alright, you can’t hide forever. “Hello?”

[Necros]

Necros continued to watch the girl silently as she pushed her way through the crowd. Her mind told him she was tired, and that she was eager to get away from the talkative, pointless humans around her. I already have something to work with. He experienced a brief flash of pleasure, but reminded himself to be ready. He doubted she would be a match for him in a fight, though he still hoped she wouldn't attack him. If she was the kind of fool who lashed out at someone just for the heck of it, than talking to her would be pointless. Such ridiculous notions came from idiotic minds that need not be bothered with, especially by him. Nevermore came to perch on his shoulder, observing the girl with him. ~Well? ~She has powers; that alone makes her worth investigating. But there is something else...something she has buried inside herself that I can use to further my goals. She is a good candidate. I can feel it.[/i] Normally, lines like that could be found in some absurd human movie or something similar, but in this case it wasn't cheesy in the slightest. What Necros said was true: he had this sense about the girl. She could become a powerful ally. When you're an empath, you really do feel things. Still, he had too find out more about her before he made his decision.

After a few minutes, he saw her make her way out of the crowd, and duck into a narrow alley. He walked swiftly, leaping from the roof onto that of the next building with ease. He repeated the process three more times, until he was crouched above her once more. After a few seconds, he saw her remove her hood and sunglasses, revealing strawberry blond hair and a pair of brown eyes. As he continued to observe the girl, he watched as she pulled a few human snacks from her pockets and begin to eat them. He narrowed his eyes. This was what she had stolen? These chunks of toxic chemicals that passed as food? Disgusting. Why was she in such poor condition? He could tell from her mind that her powers were useful, even though he couldn't see what they were. She should have been able to use them for her own benefit, to aid herself so she wouldn't have to live like this. Unless she is some virtuous imbecile who refuses to do so because it could harm other people. If that was the case, he would have to remedy that, if he deemed her worthy of joining him. The shop owner Nevermore had mentioned indicated otherwise though, so there was still a chance.

He heard a shuffling sound, and saw the girl had finished what she probably considered to be a meal. She stood up, and looked around before calling out to see if anyone was there. As if anyone who didn't want to be seen would answer that. He decided to remain where he was for a short time more. It would be interesting to see how the girl handled herself. Given enough time, perhaps she would even be able to pinpoint his location atop the roof. Not a particularly impressive feat; he wasn't trying to conceal himself. But it would still provide a bit of entertainment before revealing himself to her.[/size][/color]

[Martyr]

Shivers racked Salim’s spine as she stepped towards the shadows. By now, she knew very well that she wasn’t alone, but the feeling of being hunted shocked her; and creeped her out to a certain extent. This is… well, new. She mused with both awe and confusion as she tried to analyze where the being could be. Feeling self-conscious, the red-eyed girl yanked her hood back over her head, shrugging as she did so. She felt her leg twitch back towards the mouth of the alley, feeling as though she was lingering her too long. Her now cowardly persona towards the public began to grow, as her legs itched to move out of habit.

Why was she freaking out so much? She had powers, she could easily defend herself. Maybe it was the predictions in her head of what might happen afterwards that held her back. Idiot. Get ahold of yourself, she mentally slapped herself before reaching into her back pocket, retrieving her knife. A flick of her wrist and it shone dully in the light, threatening her hand to wrap around it, and slinging the palm open with a quiet hiss. By now, she had been used to cutting the certain spot of flesh open that it rarely hurt, which made her feel both pleased and disgusted with herself. Blood danced gracefully down her fingers, dripping from her fingers as she glared about her surroundings.

Aha, there. Atop of the building; there was the pair of eyes that had originally been watching her. “Who’s there?” Her voice, quiet but full of courage, commanded the figure above her to answer.

((Eck. It feels short. T.T))

[Necros]

"Who's there?"

As he watched, the girl replaced her hood. He continued to observe her as she started to inch back into the alley, having walked forward a bit when she had called out. He could understand her aversion to other people, but she seemed almost timid about it. That would be another thing he would have to work on, if he saw fit to have her join him. They always required so much work, the people he considered potential allies. Of course that was because most of them hadn't decided whether they were "good" or "evil" yet. Most of the true villains he encountered weren't suited to his plans for them. Except Achema. While he wouldn't actually describe her as "evil" she was perfect for what he had planned. It was the first time he had never had to work to get someone to assist him. Locking the thoughts of her away again, he noticed that the girl had drawn a knife, and intentionally cut the palm of her hand on the blade. He wondered what she hoped to accomplish by doing that, and began to make his way down to her even as she called out for him to reveal himself. Instead of merely teleporting, he climbed down the side of the building, his slender fingers finding cracks for him to hold on to with ease. In a matter of seconds, he stood before her. Nevermore had left his shoulder and taken to the skies again without being told, staying out of sight of the female. It went without being said that whenever Necros met someone new, that they were not to know that he had a supernatural raven as a companion, or that he possessed powers of any kind. He always made sure that people knew nothing about him except that which he chose to reveal himself.

He stood there without saying anything, waiting for the girl to speak. He was almost half a foot taller than her, and couldn't help looking down at her. His shoulder length midnight-black hair obscured his face, although it wasn't really necessary, the colored contacts he wore turning his eyes forest- green. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans, with some silver rings to complete his "disguise". He supposed it would look more convincing if he added a studded belt and some chains or something, but he wasn't really trying to be "emo" and people seemed to classify him as such even without getting a proper look at him. Mori did anyway, though he didn't care.

[Martyr]

That was certainly fast. Not just the timing of the stranger’s entrance, but his speed. It was impeccable, inhuman, in fact. Well that was almost easy to solve: he was one of them. One of her. Salim flicked her pocketknife open, and close, as if it would save her from the now tense and awkward atmosphere. Salim figured to be the first to speak, out of fear that this silence would end up choking all thought. “So…” A cough to clear her throat, “You’re the one who’s been following me, yes?” There was no need to be suspecting and uncivilized. What had he done that was such harm? Sure, following (though stalking felt like a more appropriate word) someone whom he’d never met was quite peculiar. But still, might as well make the conversation as light and polite as possible.

Flicking the blade shut once more, Martyr shoved it into her back pocket and retrieved her glove, tossing it over her hand no matter how much it bled. Smoothly after, she pretended to scratch at her wound, when her real intention was to weave up the open flesh. With a flex of her fingers, she could feel the skin now taut and healed, even when she still hissed from her actions. Of course, that was the consequence of mending wounds: the tenderness would still linger, if not increase two fold aside from other side effects. Well, it’s healed, The strawberry blonde reminded herself yet again. So be happy there’ll be no infection or anything of the sorts. Weight sunk into a leg, giving her the look of ease, when the contracting of her chest labored. More silence. Was there ever an end to it?

It struck her like a rock. Introductions, of course! She felt like kicking herself for being so naive. “Well, now that that’s settled, names. My name is-“ She caught herself in the nick of time. “I go by Martyr.” She quickly clarified before smiling, if only nervously. “And yours?”

[Necros]

He watched the girl in front of him play nervously with her pocketknife as the silence stretched out between the two of them. He didn't mind it, though it was a far cry from the relaxed, contented silences he experienced talking with Achema. He focused on the girl in front of him again, waiting for her to speak. He knew she would; she didn't enjoy the silence, and as he monitered her emotions, it became obvious that she would be the one to break it. She opened her mouth, and a single word escaped it, like it was difficult for a full sentence to flee from the confines of her throat. A pause, a nervous cough, and she tried again.

"So…you’re the one who’s been following me, yes?”

He nodded silently, still refraining from speaking. It was amusing to see her uncomfortable, but he was also observing how she dealt with tense situations, especially when she encountered strangers, especially when they might be seen as intimidating. The feelings she was experiencing told him a few interesting details, not the least of which being that when she had first spoken, she had indeed sensed him and wasn't just calling out at random to see if she was truly alone, though he had suspected as much. Contrary to what some people might have thought he would react, Necros was pleased. If he had actually been making an effort to conceal himself, he might have been slightly annoyed, but as it was he had just been quietly observing her, not bothering to try and keep himself hidden. It was rare to find a person who could sense another's aura, or whatever you wanted to call it, without having it pegged as paranoia. She also knew he was different, although that also came as no surprise. He had made no attempt to slow his descent down the side of the building. All it really told her was that he was unnaturally athletic, and didn't necessarily mean that he was...special.

As he continued to watch, she closed her pocketknife and placed it in her pants pocket, before pulling the glove she had taken off earlier back onto her injured hand. She made as if to scratch the wound, but her thoughts told him otherwise. His eyes widened imperceptibly behind the curtain of his hair, as he felt the dull throbbing in her mind that had stemmed from the laceration lessen considerably. He wondered if she had healed the wound, or simply gotten rid of the pain somehow. If she had actually sealed the cut... I haven't encountered anyone with a power like that since... He listened as she gave her name, rolling it around in his mind, getting a feel for it. Marytr. It was obvious, to him anyway, that that was not her real name. Even if she hadn't hesitated, even humans weren't strange enough to actually give one of their children a name like that. Of course, some of them named their offspring after months in the year, so you could never be sure. Her name tasted strong and slightly bitter, but had a speck of something sweet at its core, like a piece of dark chocolate with a small bit of carmel hidden in the center. He held out a gloved hand, and replied, his soft, silken voice whispering through the alley. "I'm Necros."

[Martyr]

To be standing on the balls of her feet with anticipation to hear the stranger’s voice was a huge letdown when the boy only responded by nodding to Salim’s question. Well, that was a waste of a question. And all he was doing was staring, which by the way, was really creepy. She understood she was different, but being looked at in that fashion made her feel very claustrophobic and self-conscious. Against her will, Salim felt her arms wrap around to hug herself for some security. And one would think this would make him realize she wasn’t comfortable, but no. On the boy looked. That’s when something inside of her snapped, something she hadn’t been in contact with in a while: anger. It was odd, to feel something she hadn’t used in her life, but in a weird sense, it felt good to let the following thoughts rile her up internally.

What, did he enjoy toying with her, to stare at her as if she was a new artifact on display at the museum or something? Well, never was she the one to start a fight, but if this guy was joining to ogle at her like a stalker, he had it coming, powers or not. Muscles strained around her jaw as Martyr slammed her mouth shut with a click of her teeth. The arms that had once protected her unfolded into a fighting stance as she slowly glared at the boy. Regret would probably rear its ugly head once she was through, but if it’d get this guy off her case… “Listen,” Her voice trembled; out of excitement or fear, she couldn’t tell, “I don’t know who you think you are. Yes, I’m a freak,“ She brought up snappily. It made her blink with surprise at what the powerful emotion brought out of her. Ah well… “But you don’t have to—“

“I’m Necros.”

The boiling emotion flickered out like a light. Her soft red eyes widened with realization and, to some extent, embarrassment. That is, before they stared at the ground as if it was the greatest thing created. Hesitantly, Salim slid out of her stance, feeling her face darken with shame for jumping to conclusions. Idiot. You are an idiot. You just had to make a big deal out of things, didn’t you? If you’re trying to stay hidden, why do you look for trouble?! All of these inquiries were better left unanswered as she muttered a sheepish, “Pleasure to meet you.” What a great way to get familiar with a new face. NOT.

But something stuck out at her, and she tensed lightly at his hand that offered to be shaken. It was almost something she was about to do without thinking twice on it. Luckily she was no longer a people person. With an apologetic smile, Martyr nodded her head with gratitude. “Sorry. Please do not take offense to refusing; I shouldn’t touch people.” Wouldn’t want to hurt you out of my control, would we?

[Necros]

He was making her anxious; he could feel it. His unbroken silence and the way he was studying her was putting her ill at ease. He knew he probably seemed like a stalker, but that shouldn't have bothered Martyr too much. Even though he didn't know what they were, he could tell from her mind that she had powers, and as far as she knew, he didn't. Besides, he was the same age as her. Until she knew more about him, she had no reason to feel threatened by him. Of course, the opposite was true as well. Why shouldn't she fear him? But she would, and often did, react this way with other people as well, just another bit of information he gleaned from her thoughts. Getting back to the point though, nothing about him seemed too out of the ordinary. He just looked like your average, dark, creepy teenager. Then again, she had sensed him nearby: maybe she knew there was more to him than unnatural speed and balance. Martyr had wrapped her arms around herself, a habit he had noticed was often displayed by nervous or uncomfortable people. But now her jaw clenched shut, her arms moved to her sides and she assumed a rigid stance, obviously preparing for a fight. Her actions were accompanied by a momentary blaze of anger, hot and fluid. She glared at him, and spoke again, her voice still soft, but harsher than before, now that she was more aggressive.

"Listen, I don’t know who you think you are. Yes, I’m a freak. But you don’t have to—“

She broke off abruptly once he deigned to respond. Her anger disappeared, to be replaced by embarrassment as she took a sudden and intense interest in the concrete underneath her feet. He watched as she relaxed, and although he couldn't read her mind, he could tell she was berating herself. I shall have to fix that if she joins me. It will not do to have her emotions remain so turbulent. He knew not everyone could control their emotions as well as him. He was even willing to admit there might be one or two beings who were better at it than he was, though they would not have originated from Earth. But he couldn't have his allies let their emotions rule them and remain out of their control. That would limit their usefulness by a large degree. He drew himself out of his thoughts as he heard her voice. When the words left her mouth this time, they were laced with a hint of shame rather than anger.

"Pleasure to meet you. Sorry. Please do not take offense to refusing; I shouldn’t touch people.”

Necros nodded at Martyr's words, but neglected to say likewise. After all, he couldn't be sure if it really was a pleasure so soon after meeting her, even though he knew more about her by now than other people would, given his abilities. And it would have been obvious even without them that she wasn't being entirely sincere. He couldn't blame her though. Finally speaking without the need to be prompted, he murmured, "Why would you call yourself a freak?" He knew of course: whatever her powers were, they had somehow brought her grief, and now because of that she viewed herself as abnormal. Other humans had undoubtedly helped her reach that incorrect conclusion. He had voiced the question to see how she would answer it. Maybe she would lie. He wouldn't think any less of her for it, although he made it a practice not to do it himself. He always managed to word things to achieve the result he desired, without technically lying, something he prided himself on. When Martyr politely refused to shake his offered hand, he lowered it. "I do not take pleasure from making physical contact with others either. Something tells me your reasons are different than mine however." He didn't mention that the "something" were his powers.

[Martyr]

“Why would you call yourself a freak?”

For many reasons, was Martyr’s first thought. Let’s enlist chronologically, shall we? Well, first off, she was given this oh-so lovely curse and doesn’t know how she had gained it. Second, she inflicted pains on the ones she loved without much control over it. Thirdly, she’s a criminal against said family because of this curse. And of course, we can’t forget that she uses her powers nowadays just to get through everyday life. God, just thinking about what she had done makes her feel disgusting, but it didn’t show on account that that might raise more questions from Necros. She knew she wasn’t alone with the whole-powers ideal. There were the teen Titans; she had caught glimpses now and again from the sidelines when danger reared its ugly head, while the other locals decided to head for the hills. But, contrary to her, they had powers that did good things. She hardly believed tat some gifts would include making people writhe on the ground from a dangerous ache. Heroes help, not harm, so that definitely wasn’t the path for her.

But how was she going to answer her question without revealing herself? Great. Thanks to this slip-up, Martyr was now cornered for an explanation. What had she done to deserve such unfortunate events? If she blabbed her powers, what if this boy turned her in. Quirking her eyebrow ever so slightly, Salim shifted her weight from one foot to the other, as if she herself was the scale that wagered her options; there seemed none. Cursing bitterly, the redhead sighed with submission. If this guys talks, I’ll have to get out of town...

"I do not take pleasure from making physical contact with others either. Something tells me your reasons are different than mine however."

“They most likely are.” Martyr finally spoke up, clenching her eyes shut, and inhaling deeply. Hear goes everything. “I’m cursed.” She concluded bluntly before putting slight detail into her situation, but hopefully not enough to freak this guy out. “I can make pain. Or transfer it, or burden it. But I don’t know why I have it…” She paused, looking down at her gloved hands, as if flexing her fingers or clenching her fists would life the weight she carried on her shoulders. But no, they just made the leather squeak. “I… I just do.”

Looking back up, Salim examined Necros’ face closely. Odd. He wasn’t one of the faces she passed by at any time this morning, so how did he know where she was, or what she was doing? And this guy, Necros, was very perceptive about things. She knew it seemed silly to jump the gun, but by the way things were examined in her mind, she’d say that this boy could be possibly gifted as well. Not to mention the following and the agile movement while he descended from the rooftop couldn’t be mere coincidence, right? His name was out of place as well. She wasn’t an idiot, she could very well tell that that couldn’t possibly be his real name; unless his parents were drunk when they had him, but that’s a rare case. “And what of you, Necros? I didn’t see you this morning. Do you have any… abilities?”

[Necros]

Necros examined the surrounding area with his mind as he waited for Martyr to reply to his question. Nevermore was nearby of course, and flashes of jeering satisfaction told him that the raven was tormenting a dove. Humans were also close by, but they paid the two of them no mind. Even without his cloak and hood, Necros was difficult to spot in a dark alley. Plus, people had just been avoiding them even more since the Titans had seemingly vanished. Even the petty criminals, such as muggers and pickpockets, were becoming more active. Although it could stand to be darker. Turning his attention away from the wandering, pointless humans, he stared up at the rising sun. He had gotten up early, having slept for only five hours, and had been scanning the city for recruits since six that morning, as he had been for weeks now. Light interfered with everything. Most of his conversations with potential allies had come to abrupt halts, on account of his aversion to sunlight, as had many of his talks with Achema. But the time would come when it would no longer pose a problem, ever again. All in due time. Still, until then, he had to limit the amount of time he spent talking to potential allies and searching for more. There was a balance there.

Focusing on Martyr again, he found some new emotions to examine. The most evident was some form of self-loathing. Splendid. That would be yet another obstacle to overcome. He couldn't have the people working with him feeling like they were worthless and at fault for everyone's troubles. It was feelings like that that led to suicide. Of course, the only reason he would care about Martyr committing that senseless act would be that it deprived him of a useful tool. Also along for the ride were traces of despair, self-pity, and that constant, underlying nervousness. As he continued to wait, Martyr shifted her weight from foot to foot. She gave an audible sigh, as if resigning herself to something, and then spoke.

"I’m cursed. I can make pain. Or transfer it, or burden it. But I don’t know why I have it… I… I just do.”

Necros listened silently while the girl spoke, intrigue beginning to take place, though it didn't show anywhere on his face. He knew that wasn't the extent of her powers, since she hadn't mentioned anything concerning what she had done to her hand. Which meant she could be hiding other things, though that didn't surprise him. In fact, he would have been disappointed if she hadn't. Zethis had lost some of his respect being so free with the information about Achema, though he knew the vampire couldn't care less, and that by no stretch of the imagination was that all he had to offer. Still, the fact that he didn't care was the reason he had shared any of he information with Necros in the first place, and had perhaps even been a factor in the decision the vampire had made not to attack him that night. Of course, that was just a testament to his foolishness. Necros had expected better from Zethis. Bringing himself back to the present, he shook his head. "Martyr, that is not a curse, that is a gift. To be able to do things ordinary people can't, to separate yourself from them, that is what your powers allow you to do. You should be grateful for them."

"And what of you, Necros? I didn’t see you this morning. Do you have any… abilities?”

He had noticed that she had avoided answering his question, so he decided to give her the same treatment. "Everyone has abilities Martyr." He smirked. "Some people manage to be oblivious to even the most obvious things, even when they are explained in clear detail, some think themselves the smartest beings on the planet, which actually makes them the stupidest, and still others are able to spend their entire lives pursuing worthless careers that they think are important, but in reality are of little importance in the grand scheme of things." Obviously that wasn't what she had meant, but even if she hadn't declined to answer his question, whether intentionally or not, he found it amusing to dance around queries like that, to play mind games with humans. Really, most everything they said could be taken different ways depending on your point of view, and Necros would sometimes entertain himself by taking advantage of that and utterly baffling humans in the process when he did. Honestly, they had to learn to phrase things more precisely. He could tell from her mind that she knew he was different, and on a level that was not the same as that basic instinct other humans seemed to get. He had answered that way to have a little fun, or what passed for fun in his book, as well as to see how Martyr would react. He closed his eyes and meditated while he once again waited for her to speak. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

[Martyr]

"Martyr, that is not a curse, that is a gift. To be able to do things ordinary people can't, to separate yourself from them, that is what your powers allow you to do. You should be grateful for them."

That may be how Necros saw it, but Salim still found her ‘gift’ to be more like a plague. Sure, it aided her in continuing on for days when she stole her victims’ energy, or put an end to the mocking jeers of other muggers or thieves like she, and mend any wounds if she had gotten into any trouble with said people. But the scars underneath her skin, over her judgment and heart… those wounds were hard to repair. If he had been there to see what she had done to her family, maybe then he’d understand. With a shrug, the red-eyed female placed her hands up in defense. “I wish I could believe you, bu- Ah…!” Her jaw clenched and her uninjured hand flew to her bruised wrist, hissing as she tried to contain it. She had forgotten about her run-in with the brute of the liquor store. The idiot nearly crushed my wrist. It seemed that in order to catch a thief, you needed to break every bone in their body. Brilliant.

Maybe to prove to Necros, she’d have to show further of her powers. Her smile was empty as her wrist felt enflamed with ache, biting back another sound of protest. “I’m… I’m sorry. I uh… just, hold on.” She encouraged, eyes darting about for any kind of animal. Without enough energy, she couldn’t perform her healing on her suffering wrist; and in her state of exhaustion, she was in no condition to do so. “I just need…” Martyr trailed off, heading towards the back of the alley, when squeaking caught her ears. “There.” A pack of rats, digging for scraps in the garbage cans. She moved a strand of hair behind her ear before removing her glove, and extending it out towards the vermin. With a deep inhale, Salim concentrated as she placed her hand right above the enlarged mice, feeling the invisible strings of energy connect to the animals. There was no remorse when it came to energy draining, as she noticed the mice’s tails limping and their eyes closing for eternal sleep, in exchange that her skin was more flushed, and her muscles quaked with newfound liveliness. She shifted her hand towards her wrist, and began weaving the blood vessels back to health. That should do it. The numbness should die down within a while, and she was already used to the side effects.

Back to Necros. “I’m sorry.” Martyr repeated, finding her vision sharper than before as she spotted the quiet boy. “I had to fix my wrist. Not to mention I couldn’t concentrate. I hadn’t slept very well.” She explained, hoping he would get what she implied. This is what she had to go through everyday; everyday she’d either be sleep deprived or hungry, or sick, or any combination of those three, so this was normal for her. Stepping closer towards him, Salim eyed her hands as she fixed her gloves back on. “It’s quite difficult to explain, so I hope that clarifies what I can do. And why I can’t touch people. So, you were saying?”

"Everyone has abilities Martyr. Some people manage to be oblivious to even the most obvious things, even when they are explained in clear detail, some think themselves the smartest beings on the planet, which actually makes them the stupidest, and still others are able to spend their entire lives pursuing worthless careers that they think are important, but in reality are of little importance in the grand scheme of things."

So he was playing either her, eh? There was no mistaking that smirk as he avoided her question. I guess he liked speaking in riddles or something. Though she never expected any other facial expression from him; it was both funny and surprising. Her own lips quirked up a tad into a half-smile, chuckling as she shook her head. And that caught her off-guard. Since when had she cracked a smile, or found anything to joke around about? Quite odd, it was. “Alright, alright. Let me try again.” Clearing her throat, as if to add a dramatic effect, Martyr tried again. “Are you ‘gifted?’ What powers do you have?”

[Necros]

“I wish I could believe you, bu- Ah…!”

Necros opened his eyes in time to see Martyr shrug and hold out her hands in an apologetic fashion before uttering a muffled cry and grabbing at her wrist, the one opposite of the hand she had healed earlier. Or whatever it was she had done to it. He saw the muscles in her neck tense as she hissed quietly, biting down on the pain. Switching his gaze to her wrist, he saw a bruise forming on the slender limb, and wondered he she had acquired it. Most likely she received it from the owner of the shop she stole from. She would require hand-to-hand combat training if he took her in, so to speak. Accompanying her feelings of pain was doubt, doubt in what he said, uncertainty as to whether he was right or not. He glanced up again, noting how sunlight was slowly creeping its way into the alley from above, oozing down the wall behind Martyr like some type of hideous yellow infection. The temperature was rising too, crawling upward, the increasing heat leeching the cold from the stone surrounding them. He turned back to Martyr as she spoke again, turning away from him. Her mind told him she was looking for something.

"I’m… I’m sorry. I uh… just, hold on.”

After a few moments of searching, she spied the pack of rats burrowing through a nearby dumpster, whose incessant squeaking had begun to grate on Necros' nerves, but only just. As he continued to watch her, Martyr brushed her hair out of her face, removed the glove from her uninjured hand once more, and took a deep breath. He observed in silence as she gently placed her hand on some of the rats, one by one, watching their bodies slump lifelessly into the filth they had been digging through, their tails going limp and their high pitched squeals fading into nothingness. After she had drained a few rats of their life, she placed her hand over her injured wrist, and he saw her eyes narrow slightly as she concentrated. Almost immediately, the pain in her mind dimmed, numbness settling in as she repaired the injured limb. Not only that, but her skin regained some color. While she worked, he spoke, still in that flat yet soft voice, but loud enough for her to hear from where she now stood next to the dumpster. "Why can you not believe me?"

"I’m sorry. I had to fix my wrist. Not to mention I couldn’t concentrate. I haven’t slept very well. It’s quite difficult to explain, so I hope that clarifies what I can do. And why I can’t touch people."

By reflex, he stepped smoothly backwards as she walked back toward him, his aversion of being close to other people waking up. She is different, he had to remind himself. She can be useful to me. It would be unfortunate if she got the idea that he couldn't stand to be near her. It was nothing personal, he just didn't like being in a close proximity with other people, emotionally as well as physically. Sometimes physical contact couldn't be helped, no matter how much he was repulsed by it. He had, however, been successful on the emotional front. Except for Achema. It wasn't as if he had been crushed by her sudden flight from the city, but he had found himself surprisingly disappointed. Ignoring those thoughts, he returned his focus to Martyr. He was fairly sure she hadn't noticed his reaction, but if she had, he would deal with it when the time came.

"Alright, alright. Let me try again. Are you ‘gifted?’ What powers do you have?”

She learned quickly. Good. Her half-smile and quiet chuckle surprised him faintly. Most people didn't react like that whenever he gave responses that made fun of the question. They just called him a "smart-ass", which in itself made no sense whatsoever. Not that he cared what people called him. The opinions of humans were of no consequence. Her mind told him that she was mildly taken aback by her reaction as well. Not by the fact of what she had laughed at, but the fact she had laughed at all. That was something they had in common: both of them rarely found something humorous. Even aside from that, the prospects of Martyr being a competent ally were looking reasonably good. It would take some work, but that was nothing new. In response to her question, he murmured, "I would prefer to keep that to myself for now Martyr." He paused. "Perhaps once we get to know each other better, I will tell you." It was rare to find a polite villain, but Necros wasn't exactly ordinary. His refusal wasn't rude; it was just common sense, not to mention part of his personal policy. Just because she had seen fit to tell him her powers didn't mean he had to return the favor. Addressing one of her earlier statements, he said, "It would be a simple matter for you to use your gift to make a better life for yourself. Why do you not?" He made a point of continuing to call her powers a gift. Subliminal messages could work wonders.