An Odd Church

Adam absolutely did need someone to tell him he was bad to make it worth it. His crimes were an accessory to his persona after all, not the ultimate goal; money was a backdrop to the story he was trying to create. He had no interest in the seedy underbelly of the crime world, not really (which was good, because back home they had considered him a local joke). He tilted his head up easily and let her touch his chin, but he did have to hold back a flinch as her fingers brushed against the bumpy and smooth skin of his scars. As her fingers left him he smiled and rested his chin on his fist, clearly impressed. "Ooh. A witch, huh? I've never actually met one before." Ignoring the comment about not being able to handle her for now, Adam watched the flame in her hands transform and grow. "That's a neat fucking trick. Can you make it bigger? ..Ha. That's what she said." The last part was mumbled to himself. adam Mistreat your Altar Boys long enough and this is what you get Sad and angry... can't learn how to behave Still won't know how in the darkness of the grave