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girl_ofsecretsSomething has raised your ire and you're not about to keep quiet, so, grab a RP partner and do something about it.
Despite their conversation earlier about how things would get fixed -- how he and Claire would find a way to fix it -- he found he still couldn't shake off his mood. It lingered in his shoulders, in the steel of his jaw, and in spite of all the deep breathing he'd tried to fix it. The anger was so deep seated, in fact, that he wasn't even sure killing something would help, and that coming from him? Well, he was sure it heralded the end of days, somehow.
Frustrated, he collapsed on the bed of their small room, staring venomously at the blank television screen as if it was somehow at fault, and then he shifted, reaching for the remote. He flicked the TV on, surfed through a few channels without anything catching his eye -- then again, they could have been showing a special news bulletin announcing that Nathan Petrelli's head was hanging from the Washington Monument and he wouldn't have cared -- and then he turned it off violently. On impulse, he threw the remote at the wall, like an eight-year-old having a temper tantrum, and then he rolled over, not even bothering to watch as it landed, instead contenting himself to staring at the ceiling and seething.
He needed to do something, he knew -- something to help them out of this mess -- but hell if he could see past his annoyance to bother with actual planning. And hell if he could put aside his pride and call Peter, as was the only idea he could manage in this state.
She wasn't fond of empty promises and yet she was worried she was making them every time she vowed they would fix things. That they would somehow get their abilities back. For a long time she had wanted to be normal but she wasn't so sure about it anymore. Sylar hated normal; he based a lot of who and what he was on the fact that he was special and different. It was what had driven him for so long.
And if she was normal, would he want her still?
It was a fear that left her feeling cold and blank even now as she walked into the small room right as he threw the remote against the wall. A flash of annoyance rushed through her and she did her best to suppress it but she didn't stop in time to stop him from getting a look as she shut the door. "You're going to complain later when you need to change channels without the remote." She replied dryly.
( "If I had my telekinesis, it wouldn't be a problem," he snapped back, eyes dropping from the ceiling to fix on her, angrily. )
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 4544
Despite their conversation earlier about how things would get fixed -- how he and Claire would find a way to fix it -- he found he still couldn't shake off his mood. It lingered in his shoulders, in the steel of his jaw, and in spite of all the deep breathing he'd tried to fix it. The anger was so deep seated, in fact, that he wasn't even sure killing something would help, and that coming from him? Well, he was sure it heralded the end of days, somehow.
Frustrated, he collapsed on the bed of their small room, staring venomously at the blank television screen as if it was somehow at fault, and then he shifted, reaching for the remote. He flicked the TV on, surfed through a few channels without anything catching his eye -- then again, they could have been showing a special news bulletin announcing that Nathan Petrelli's head was hanging from the Washington Monument and he wouldn't have cared -- and then he turned it off violently. On impulse, he threw the remote at the wall, like an eight-year-old having a temper tantrum, and then he rolled over, not even bothering to watch as it landed, instead contenting himself to staring at the ceiling and seething.
He needed to do something, he knew -- something to help them out of this mess -- but hell if he could see past his annoyance to bother with actual planning. And hell if he could put aside his pride and call Peter, as was the only idea he could manage in this state.
She wasn't fond of empty promises and yet she was worried she was making them every time she vowed they would fix things. That they would somehow get their abilities back. For a long time she had wanted to be normal but she wasn't so sure about it anymore. Sylar hated normal; he based a lot of who and what he was on the fact that he was special and different. It was what had driven him for so long.
And if she was normal, would he want her still?
It was a fear that left her feeling cold and blank even now as she walked into the small room right as he threw the remote against the wall. A flash of annoyance rushed through her and she did her best to suppress it but she didn't stop in time to stop him from getting a look as she shut the door. "You're going to complain later when you need to change channels without the remote." She replied dryly.
( "If I had my telekinesis, it wouldn't be a problem," he snapped back, eyes dropping from the ceiling to fix on her, angrily. )
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 4544
