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genetic_fate: dust is a protective coating for fine furnit
Mar. 12th, 2009 05:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
To say that Sylar's apartment had clearly been abandoned for some time would have been an understatement. A fine layer of dust coated everything, dulling everything from the furniture to the walls in such a way that the room looked like an old photograph. Spiders had taken up residence in the corners of the room at one point, and then vacated, leaving dark, filthy cobwebs in their wake. And as they pushed into the apartment, they left footprints in the grime. It was a mess, and immediately, the killer frowned; he was nothing if not cleanly, and this was a disaster.
"Guess I haven't been home in awhile," he commented dryly, casting a look back at Mohinder. "Give me a minute, and I'll clean up." They needed this space, after all, and he was more than certain that the geneticist wouldn't want the dust and disuse skewing the results of his research.
That in mind, he moved into the kitchen, shifting the microscope he'd been carrying into one hand, so he had use of the other. Then, with an almost idle gesture, the layer of grime on the table was scattering to the floor, motes of dust swirling to the wood floors like fine falling snow. Unfortunately, however, this didn't seem to be enough for the killer, as before the dust had even settled, he was moving for the cabinet under the sink, hoping he could find something to wipe the table down with.
If he still had his cleaning supplies, this wouldn't take long at all.
"Guess I haven't been home in awhile," he commented dryly, casting a look back at Mohinder. "Give me a minute, and I'll clean up." They needed this space, after all, and he was more than certain that the geneticist wouldn't want the dust and disuse skewing the results of his research.
That in mind, he moved into the kitchen, shifting the microscope he'd been carrying into one hand, so he had use of the other. Then, with an almost idle gesture, the layer of grime on the table was scattering to the floor, motes of dust swirling to the wood floors like fine falling snow. Unfortunately, however, this didn't seem to be enough for the killer, as before the dust had even settled, he was moving for the cabinet under the sink, hoping he could find something to wipe the table down with.
If he still had his cleaning supplies, this wouldn't take long at all.
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Date: 2009-03-12 10:36 pm (UTC)Setting himself down on a kitchen chair, he turned to sorting everything out that he could possibly need. Sylar was all but forgotten in his all consuming need to find his own answers.
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