heroslayer | for writer's block table: awake (rp for its

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for writer's block table: awake (rp for its_notluck)

Something shatters downstairs.

The sound is faint, not a window breaking but a cup, but it's enough to cut through the haze of faint awareness he's been floating in for the last few days and drag him gasping into full alertness. He lays there for a moment, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to wrap his head around the sound and the odd, displaced feeling that comes with waking up somewhere you can't remember ever being, and then there's another crash from downstairs. He sits up abruptly, glaring holes in the twilight of the room, straining to listen.

He hears voices but nothing else, not even with his hearing, his focus shot to hell and wrapped in cotton, but it's enough to put him on edge. He can remember Samuel now and everything move he's made against them since he and Claire walked out of that damnable carnival, and he's quick to assume that they're under attack again. The barker has sent his cronies after them or come himself again, and he won't stand for it.

He moves to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and winces once he manages, teeth gritting, his muscles crying out from months and months of disuse. He ignores the pain, however, not even sure why it hurts in the first place, and staggers to his feet, a hand going to the nightstand to steady himself. And once he feels certain enough standing, he lets go, pushing away to move towards the door.

He gets exactly three steps away before the IV line tugs at his hand, and the shock of it is enough to send him off balance. He sprawls to the floor gracelessly, a snarl on his lips, and the voices downstairs stop abruptly.

A long, tense moment follows and then the sound of someone coming up the stairs chases the silence away. The door opens cautiously a moment later, and Peter pokes his head in, backlit by strange, flickering light. When he steps into the room, he realizes it's coming from the flames lapping harmlessly at his fingertips. He hums, amused, and tries to drag himself to his feet again.

"Whoa, hey." Peter is by his side in an instant, the fire at his hand dying suddenly, and wraps his arms around his waist. He doesn't even try to claw his way free as Peter hauls him back up to the bed. "Take it easy. You've been out of it for awhile."

Confused, he stares at Peter, trying to work out what the hell he means by that, and it all filters back to him slowly, a chill creeping up his spine as each snippet of memory returns. Giving Peter his original ability back. Passing out afterward. All of it. He opens his mouth to ask the other man just how long it's been, but he misses his chance, Peter sliding away from him to rush towards the door.

He pushes it open widely, yelling down the stairs, "Claire! He's awake!"

And Sylar can't help the stab of annoyance that follows when he realizes he must have been out of play for quite some time.

Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 526
Note: Pretty sure the ex isn't stalking me and my muses anymore, so ... Peter is

hadtobeahero and all mine to use and abuse.

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Claire savored the gargling noise that came from the man when Sylar cut off his words, no doubt choking him with his telekinetic ability. Looking around, she was careful not to touch anything as she made her way towards the kitchen to slide around the corner where she paused once the two of them came into view.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave a pleased little smirk at the fact that Sylar had been kind enough to wait before he started sawing into the guy. At one time she hadn't been able to endure the sight of what he was going to do next but now she found herself looking forward to it. It was a rush because it confirmed that he was getting better but it was also because she could watch with a critical eye. She needed to learn how to take abilities after all.

He shuffled over a step or two, allowing her both a clear view of their victim and his hands from where she was standing, then raised a finger, leveling it with the guy's hairline. He cast a glance back at her, fingers of the hand holding the other man in place flexing as he put extra pressure on his chest to stop him from struggling, and offered her a small, cruel smile.

"It's like using a knife or a scalpel." He turned back to the man, jabbing his finger at his hairline. A soft, pained noise followed as a bright red dot appeared on his skin. "You just -- I can feel it. The resistance from the skin and bone. How much pressure to use. I can just -- just tell."

He pressed a little harder, and the spot of blood became a jagged little mark on his forehead, the howl of telekinesis through the first little bit of his skull no where near loud enough to cover the yelp of agony that followed. Sylar smiled just a bit more, the sound something he found he missed, no matter how long or short a time it had been. "After that, it's easy. Just cut."

The guy had gotten the hint now and he hissed out something, begging for his life. Sylar took it in, humming pleasure, but he largely ignored him, finally and quickly sawing into his head, suddenly desperate to see what there was to see now that his work had begun.

Claire moved closer to him, stopping a few feet from his side as she tilted her head. It was a dark and almost comedic scene as they talked back and forth like they were committing a science experiment instead of a murder. "But my problem is that I can't seem to focus it enough to use it like a knife or a scalpel. I'd end up bashing his head in instead."

Narrowing her eyes at the man, she watched the blood well up from the cut as the sawing noise filled her ears. It was a haunting sound, one that she was all too familiar with, but it didn't bring the horror that it once did. Instead she envied Sylar and his control, wishing desperately that she had the same control that he did. It would take her time but it frustrated her that she didn't have it now.

A little frown marred her features as she waited for him to be done, taking a step closer to watch him as he went looking for the ability.

Finished with the cut, he lowered the guy to the ground slowly, letting his head leave a wet, messy smear against the white of the refrigerator doors. Then trembling with want, like an addict in need of a fix, he moved over to him, lowering himself to his knees so he could drag his head into his lap. He'd have to sneak upstairs when they got home to change his jeans, but right now it didn't matter -- right now, he had his fingers in the guy's ruined skull, searching for answers.

"You have to imagine it," he told her, his voice distant and dimly strained. "Or like ... using your fingernails to peel an orange. Same principle."

He could have continued making suggestions all night -- three more had sprung to mind when he'd mentioned peeling an orange -- but instead he stopped short, humming in pain, and closed his eyes tightly. He bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, there and then gone in an instant, and winced, a whimper falling out of him in spite himself. Clearly he had found what he was looking for and, as always, it hurt.

She took everything that he had to say into consideration, all while deciding that she should get some oranges from the grocery store when they made the stop. One because she could use them to practice on but also because she actually enjoyed eating oranges. Watching Sylar as he hauled the guy's head onto his lap, she mentally kicked herself for forgetting to grab a change of clothes for him. She had been getting good about taking care of that back in the past but not working with him for four months had caused some old habits to slip away.

When he whimpered, she pulled herself out of her reverie and she bit back a sigh as she wished once again that he could do that without causing himself pain. "Got it?" She asked after a few moments, eying the corpse critically.

He allowed himself a moment before answering, waiting until the rush kicked in and the pain faded, and then opened his eyes, flashing her a vicious, crooked smile. "Yep."

He paused, propping the guy up like a broken marionette doll against the refrigerator, and flexed his fingers, eager to go find something to climb on. Maybe the wall outside the apartment as they left. One thing at a time, though, as much as he itched to try out his new toy. "Don't suppose you want to look?"

"You know what would be useful? A power to get blood out of clothes." She mused with a chuckle, stepping closer to the broken body as she eyed his brain in consideration. Taking a new power was incredibly tempting but she wasn't really enthused by the idea of having the ability to crawl up walls. Still, the hunger was tugging at her, gnawing deep at her insides.

Inching closer, she paid mind to the blood on the floor, not wanting to ruin her shoes as she stepped over him and went at his brain from the side where there wasn't much blood at all. Focusing, she searched for the ability till she felt it. She didn't feel the pain the same way but she felt the change as it rushed through her, causing her body to shudder a bit as everything shifted to click into place.

"There used to be a guy in New York who could control blood." Back when they'd been play their cat and mouse game, when he'd been avoiding taking new abilities as to not draw his attention to himself, he'd come across the guy. A mortician. He'd been careful enough to avoid using his power in public, but Sylar had followed him around for a few days, idly, waiting for Claire to show up on his radar again after her latest bloody escape. "Wonder if he's still there."

He'd have to find out later. For now he just watched her, something near jealousy tinging his thoughts for an instant before the high reasserted itself. If only he could get away with taking a power without that first stab of pain as his brain shuffled around to make room.

There were times when she wished for the stab of pain still, even after the time where their powers had been taken. Drawing in a slow breath through her nostrils, she straightened while closing her eyes so that she could just enjoy the feel of the new ability for a moment or two.

Once everything was righted, she turned around to look at him, blinking a bit like a stoned druggie before she nodded. "Wouldn't hurt to go look. We'll stick around here for a few more days and then we can take off." After they got the other power, she figured.

"Sounds good." He offered her another smile, this one just as lazily cruel as the last, and got back to his feet slowly, glancing towards the window as he stretched. "We should get out of here before someone comes to check on our friend."

That and he was still possessed by the desire to try out the ability they'd just stolen.

"He doesn't really seem to have any friends but I'm sure someone will come looking in a day or two when he doesn't show up at his work." She chuckled faintly, nudging the corpse's leg gently before she stepped over him and walked out of the kitchen.

"Let's get out of here. We need to stop by a grocery store, I want oranges." Plus she wanted to see if the new ability worked too.

He followed her out of the kitchen, sliding past her to lead the way out of the apartment as they got nearer to the door. Rather than go straight back to the car, however, he made for the other end of the apartment block, towards the alleyway outside their victim's apartment. "Plan on practicing your telekinesis on an orange? Or did that just sound good when I mentioned it?"

"It sounded good when you mentioned it and plus I love oranges." She chuckled, following after him as he walked towards the alley exit of the apartment building.

His only response to that was a shrug, and he slid into the alley, looking up at some indeterminate point on the wall thoughtfully. He hummed softly, flexing his fingers, splaying them wide at his sides, then raised a hand, pressing the tips of his fingers to the brick lightly. He followed suit with the other hand, then one foot, then the other, until he was clinging to the wall in much the same way the comics suggested Spider-Man could. Another hum, this one closer to a sigh of a laugh -- he felt ridiculous -- and he cast her a sideways smile before scaling the wall, creeping towards the top idly and putting more and more distance between himself and the ground.

When he looked back at her, she had one hand covering her mouth as she giggled softly in amusement. It was a peculiar sight, one that was rather amusing as he continued to scale higher up the wall like Spiderman. Dropping her hand to the side, she tilted her head with a small smirk. "Having fun up there?"

He glanced back down at her again and flashed her a wicked smirk. This power was relatively useless as far as potential applications went right that second -- he was sure it would probably come in handy later, particularly if they couldn't get to the teleporter -- but it was still fun. "You have no idea."

That said, he inched back down a few feet, then pushed away from the wall abruptly, landing in a crouch as he dropped back down to the ground. "You should try it. The oranges can wait a few minutes."

(ooc: Sorry this took so long. Caught a case of the Wanting to Knife Myselfs from work.)

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