Walking down the street with a flask of jagermeister in his hand Asylum looks from his left and to his right to see the new world that surrounds him. Some people are tall and skinny while some are short and chunky. All from different backgrounds from the world.

"I never knew a world this big existed. When I was only a child my father left me with my uncle up north on a ranch in North Dakota. Probably the quietest place I've ever been aside from the sound of a rooster in the morning."

Taking a few sips from his flask Asylum rubs his lips dry with his left sleeve.

"Seems odd I came all the way to Los Angeles only to find a dead man. My father - Absolut. About a year back I hired a private detective to find my parents for me and after 365 days, 17 hours and 16 minutes I finally got word about them. Turns out my father was a Consigliere for a crime organization in the city of Angels. Seems he was trying to kill some bum when his gun malfunctioned. I guess it's good he went out quick instead of accidentally choking on a wash cloth during a bath like my mother. God knows how that happened."

Chuckling Asylum screws the lid back onto his flask and puts it back into his inside pocket.

"Honestly I wasn't much surprised to hear both my parents had passed. After spending the last 18 years 6 months and 12 days on a ranch in the middle of bum fuck egypt you're only bound to be cultured shocked to an extent. I came to Los Angeles with a few bucks in my pocket, a flask and some dirty clothes. Luckily though I made my way to finding Sherlock, my fathers crime boss. Seemed it was only right to finally figure out something about one of my parents at least. Gotta say though, that TonyAlacchi is some character. Luckily though I got to deal with the big guy, Sherlock."

Pulling a bugler tobacco pouch and roller out Asylum begins rolling his own cigarette.

"I'll tell ya one thing, I've never met a guy whose enjoyed a joke like good ole Sherlock. Not only that he is quite the welcoming man. After he had a few very fine ladies help clean me up and get me into a suit he sat me down and explained the dirty business my father was in. After talking over a bottle or two of liqour and hearing stories about Sherlock and my fathers galavanting through the cities he finally popped the qustion."

Asylum lights up his cigarette and rolls a spit wad in his mouth.

"He says to me; Asylum, think you can learn the ropes and pick up where your father left off? Now at this point I'm a little confused, what would you want with a farm boy who doesn't know a trigger from a slide? Well he threw a book at me explaining all that so that got taken care of lickity split. After consuming a few more glasses I told Sherlock the only thing a man could... Do I get to keep the ladies to clean me up?!"

Chuckling Asylum takes a breath and clears his thoughts.

"Now here I am today, a young prospering mafioso. Apparently my ancestory is all about the mafia and they were trying to keep me away, but luckily I'll be here awhile... hopefully at least... seems theres guns blowing up quit a bit out there. Shrapnel might catch my jugular. Anyways I think it's high time to get... well high. It'd be a pleasure to meet some more fine mafiosi out there."

Hellboy listens to Asylum as he tells a story about his family.

"Very nice Asylum, I'm sorry to hear about your father Absolut and his gun problems."

Antonio_Montoya takes one look at Asylum and knows somethings amiss

Why on god's green earth are you drinking anesthetic? That shit's a field anesthetic for the boys over in Germany! Christ, man! Aside from your obvious lack in taste of drink, I have to say I've heard about your family. In fact, our family lines cross paths many times in the diaries I've read. It seems to be again. Oh how fate intertwines the lives that weave through this world we call ours.

But seriously.

Get rid of the anesthetic and get a real drink. Like a whiskey. Stop by Philly some time, you choose the bar, we'll sit and I'll teach you to drink like a man.

It's quite alright Hellboy, accidents happen.

Chuckling a little bit Asylum smiles and straightens his suit up a bit.

Montoya, a drink sounds great but I just have one question. Who doesn't like something that tastes like black licorice!

Oh, Asylum, I don't doubt that it tastes good, I'm just saying that it's not an alcohol... it's medicine! Who drinks medicine? It's quite absurd to me, but I guess every person has their own tastes. Mine just happens to be aimed more at alcoholic beverages then anesthetics.

Either way, the offer stands, meet me in Philly sometime, drop a line in my mailbox, and I'll be happy to have a drink with you, hell, who knows, you might even get me to try your "black licorice" tasting medicine. Hey, maybe one day it'll be a popular alcoholic drink, I mean, whiskey used to be used for medicine too!