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girl_ofsecrets: racism is man's gravest threat to man
Mar. 12th, 2009 06:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
heroslayerClaire was silent as she swirled one of her fries through a small mound of ketchup beside the half eaten burger that was sitting on her plate. She was frowning to herself just a bit and she had been since Sylar had told her that they were gong to go kill her father without telling her which one she meant. Not that it had sent her away from him, she was still traveling with him and everything was continuing like they had. In a very, confusing manner.
The addiction was just getting worse.
She glanced up, taking a bite as she glanced at him and then past him to look at the television behind the counter. They were in a small diner in the middle of nowhere, the night dark around them and the place mostly empty except for a couple guys at the end of the counter, a couple in a booth nearby and one lone biker looking dude who was also watching the television.
Something caught Claire's attention, her eyes narrowing as she watched Nathan Petrelli's face fill the screen.
Sylar looked up from his own half-finished burger, sharply, frowning. He'd been having a bad day as it was, every tiny thing grating on sanity that was fragile on the best of days, and this? This was nearly the straw that broke the camel's back.
Fingers curling tightly around the mug of coffee he'd been nursing, he ground his teeth together, trying to resist the urge to either shut the television off, telekinetically, or launch something through it. He managed, albeit narrowly, knuckles near as white as the ceramic of his cup, and looked away. Tuning out Nathan's speech was another matter entirely, however--he couldn't--and so he continued to look sour, even as he traded his coffee out for his burger, taking a vicious bite out of it.
They had both been on edge, perhaps they were feeding off of each other more than anything but the day had been tense and silent. It didn't help that he kept growling every time she tried to say something and so she had given up, choosing to ignore him on the times that he tried to reach out to her.
She heard him grinding his teeth together, choosing to ignore him as she focused on the screen since she was almost unable to look away. She wanted to ask them to turn it off too but they didn't, instead the waitress turned to watch as the biker seemed to focus on the screen too. Of course Nathan was talking about the threat that he was fighting and how he was taking steps to stop it.
Claire shook her head, her muscles tightening as she started to look away but then suddenly the biker was speaking up. "Good, they should lock those freaks up and never let them out. Put them all out of our misery." He muttered, glancing around as though for support but no one said anything.
Sylar shot the biker a black look, his fingers all but twitching as he set his lunch down. "I should kill him for that," he growled, taking care to keep his voice low. "Put him out of our misery." Not that he hadn't heard anti-evolved human statements before and done nothing about them, but considering his mood, that just seemed to twist the knife.
Claire was seething as she looked at Sylar, her eyes dark as she pondered protesting but she found that she just didn't have it in her. Freaks? Yes, at one time she had called herself a freak show but that was different; she didn't want to hear it coming from someone else. Not like that. "I'm tempted to help." She hissed softly, one hand tightly curled into a fist as she glanced at the guy again.
He seemed to feel them looking at him as he twisted around to look at them, "What? Got a problem?"
"And if we do?" Sylar asked, coldly, his tone a sharp contrast to the way he was staring at the thug from under his eyebrows.
Claire merely watched as the biker turned around on his seat, "Don't know. What are you going to do about it?" He asked, smirking almost.
The killer made a noise at the back of his throat that may have passed for amused, were there any humor in it. "Here? Nothing." He shook his head a little. "But I'd watch your back, when you leave."
Claire almost smirked too but the biker merely scoffed, seemingly unimpressed as he rolled his eyes, muttering something as he turned back to his meal. She watched him for a moment before looking back at Sylar, "Should we leave?" She asked, knowing that he had no plans on going far. Neither did she now.
Maybe they could just lay in wait somewhere.
"I've lost my appetite," he answered, that being the closest thing to a yes that she'd get, considering the mood he was in. That said, he dropped his burger back to his plate before pushing away from the table. He hesitated for a moment, and then reached for his wallet, fishing out enough to cover their meals and then some, and then he was turning on his heels, heading for the door. He didn't glance back to see if she followed, but there was the sense that if she didn't, there would be hell to pay.
It wasn't like she was going to stay. Instead she watched him get the money out and then she was sliding out of her seat, rising to her feet as she moved to follow after him. She was half tempted not to follow right away, knowing that he would take it out on her later and then she wondered when she had gotten to that point that she would almost enjoy such a thing. Stepping outside, she looked over the parking lot before she glanced at him, watching to see what he was going to do.
He moved towards their car, wheeling back towards the door once he got close to stare at it, heatedly. Perhaps they should have gone somewhere else--found somewhere to hide, so that when they jumped the sonovabitch, they wouldn't be seen--but his head didn't seem to be on straight, right now. Fury did that to him, and that one little comment had pushed him headfirst into his anger.
Claire moved towards him, seeing the fury in his eyes and she glanced back at the diner as she knew that the biker was done for. Not that she cared, she wanted to see it. A dark little desire wanted to play a hand in it too. "There's a motel just over there." She nodded to the east, "He's probably heading over there."
Sylar considered this for a moment, before nodding; it seemed logical. Especially when he didn't see anything that even remotely resembled what he'd seen bikers drive in the sea of cars around them. "We'll head there, then. Wait for him." Maybe they could even find his room and wait for him there, rather than loitering out in the open.
Claire nodded her head, brushing some hair back from her face as she could see a path leading through a small bunch of trees and then suddenly she smirked. "Or we could wait there for him?" It would be better than attacking someone in their room where all rooms were attached to each other. Then, if they wanted, they could stay there for the night after the hid the biker's body somewhere.
"Sounds good," he replied, flashing her a vicious smirk in return. Canting his head slightly in the direction of the path she'd pointed out rather than gesturing to it, he offered, "Ladies first."
For a moment she almost looked surprised, but then she nodded as she slipped away from him while heading to the path. The lights from the parking lot didn't reach that far, so the path was surprisingly dark as she slipped into the trees. She could see the motel on the other side of the small bunch of trees and some more light but they had cover for now. She glanced back over her shoulder to see if Sylar was following.
He was--or, rather he had been, moving behind her without so much a scuff of his shoes on the pavement. He'd stopped just short of the enterance to the path, however, and was now lurking in the shadows the trees cast, almost unseen. How he did that was still a mystery, but he was so damn good at it.
Claire was getting used to him pretty much hiding in the shadows and she had to smirk as she leaned against a tree near the entrance to the path, crossing her arms as she watched the diner. It was no surprise to her when the biker appeared about ten minutes later, lighting himself a cigarette before starting right towards them without any idea of what he was walking into.
The killer tilted his head to one side, watching the biker like a cat that had just caught sight of a mouse, but other than that, he remained motionless. It was easier to remain hidden that way, honestly, and he planned on letting the thug get close to Claire--maybe he'd even let her play with him first--before destroying him. It was more fun that way.
Claire didn't move, she didn't bother trying to hide and so the biker caught sight of her as he moved closer. He arched a brow at her before suddenly smirking, "Well well, ditch your boyfriend, sweetheart?"
Claire arched a brow right back, chuckling, "Maybe. He's a little pissy at the moment."
"Yeah, he seemed a bit uptight. Got a stick shoved up his ass." The biker chuckled as though he were truly amused with himself.
"That's my baby for you." Claire almost cooed though her tone was a bit dry, "He was a little pissy over the comment you made." She admitted, her head tilting.
"What? He a freak lover?"
Suddenly, Sylar was behind him, rather than lurking in the gloom. He stayed his hand, however, hovering so close behind the biker that he could reach out and touch him if he wanted, but the other man seemed unaware and that was how he wanted it. He simply planned to stand there until Claire gave him some sort of sign or until the biker said something he truly didn't like. And really, judging by how riled the killer looked as he stared over the man's shoulder at Claire, the latter seemed far more likely to happen than the former, and soon.
Claire didn't really look at Sylar even though she saw him, she was aware of him just like always as she stepped closer to the biker, not at all amused. "Maybe he is." Her voice was lower, her eyes glittering in the darkness. "Maybe we both are. Maybe we are freaks."
The biker's eyes narrowed then, all humor dropping as he growled faintly. He didn't say anything, he merely reached for her and she didn't move. She knew that it would piss off Sylar faster as the guy curled his fingers around her throat, pushing her back against a tree. "Then I'll kill you."
The killer raged, his lips twisting into a sneer, and he held up a hand. Then, snapping his fingers back, he was tearing the biker's fingers away from Claire's throat with vicious thought. "No, you won't," he purred, tone all too calm as he lowered his hand, letting the other man have control of his fingers back.
As her back collided with the tree, she narrowed her eyes as she didn't bother trying to stop him because she knew Sylar would. The biker was startled as suddenly his fingers were ripped from her throat, stumbling back as he turned to look at Sylar with wide eyes then. Claire pushed away from the tree, brushing hair out of her face, "Oops, guess he heard you." She replied with a little smirk, looking at the biker as she clucked her tongue.
"Oops," he echoed, still looking far from happy. "But I'm a nice guy. I'll give you a chance." A pause, and then he ordered, "Run." Not that he expected the biker to run--he was waiting for the guy to try pulling a knife or a gun--but that would be where the real fun lied. He'd let the guy get in the first attack, maybe even kill him, and then he'd peel himself off of the pavement much to the other man's shock.
Sylar seemed to guess correctly as the guy reached to his side, pulling out a butterfly knife as the blade appeared. Then he growled, lunging forward as he took a swipe at Sylar. The cry that came out of Claire could have been faked or maybe it was genuine; it was hard to say even as she jumped forward a bit.
He let the knife connect, making no effort to stop the weapon from cutting through clothing and skin, nor did he fight back now that he'd been marked. Instead, he simply took a handful of steps backwards, hissing--he could still feel pain where Claire couldn't--broken skin already making an effort to heal itself. Which, hopefully, the biker would notice, in spite of the dark.
"First one's free." Then, with that, he was wrenching the knife from the biker's hand with a wave of his own.
The biker did notice, he could see it through the tear in the clothing as the skin started to seal and the cut disappeared, taking his flash of smug satisfaction with it. "Freak." He growled, about to attack against but then suddenly he stumbled forward as Claire cracked a thick branch over his back. He hissed in pain before whirling to face her, his anger distracting him from Sylar for a minute as he lunged at Claire.
"Says the bigot," Sylar shot back. "Though I guess you're not all that uncommon, anymore."
If he'd wanted to say something else, however, the words evaporated on his lips as the thug made a move on Claire. She couldn't be hurt, true, or at least not permanently, but he thought he'd gotten his point across to the biker when he'd pulled him off of his companion in the first place. Clearly not. Clearly, he'd have to teach by example. And making another sharp gesture with his hand, he threw the biker neatly into one of the trees at his side.
The biker didn't catch the chance to hurt her as he suddenly flew to the side, slamming into one of the trees before hitting the ground in a crumple. The knife had fallen from his fingers at one point and Claire bent down to scoop it up off the ground, intending to keep it for herself now. She held the hilt tightly, looking at the biker on the ground as he started to pick himself up with a groan.
"You plan on using that?" Sylar gestured to the knife, seemingly unaware that the biker was trying to get to his feet.
Claire looked at the blade in her hand before glancing over at Sylar, seemingly ignoring the biker at the moment. "Not sure. Did you want it or something?" She held the blade up.
"Gimme my knife back." The biker growled, taking a half step forward.
The killer ignored him completely. "I was just wondering if it would keep its edge, if we used it to cut him into little pieces."
She pursed her lips while tilting her head, considering it, "Maybe? You should be able to sharpen it somehow though, right?"
"Telekinetically, yeah," he replied, nodding.
The biker took another step forward, as though he thought that they weren't keeping track of him even while they were talking with one another.
"I kind of want to keep it." Claire nodded, ignoring the growl that came as a response.
"So, keep it." He shrugged, nonchalantly, and then held up his hand to make a stopping gesture, the biker rooted to the ground, now. Other than that, however, he continued to pretend that the other man didn't exist. "It's a nice knife."
"Let's see how sharp it is." She chuckled then, pressing the blade against the palm of her hand as she drew a hard line, cutting the skin and causing the blood to well to the surface. Then she glanced over at the biker, watching his eyes widen as she didn't seem to flinch or really care as she bled for a second before the cut started to heal. "Yep, nice and sharp. Sharper than your finger thing?" She glanced at Sylar with a smirk.
"We could always find out," he suggested, shooting a glance down at where she'd cut herselt before returning his eyes to her. "If you can cut through bone, it might be." He only hoped she had enough sense to test their theory out on the biker, rather than herself.
Claire seemed to consider her options and for a moment it seemed that she might try it on herself. She looked over at the biker then, stepping closer to him as she looked him over. He couldn't move but that didn't mean he couldn't talk, so he hissed, "Don't touch me, bitch."
Her eyes narrowed in response then as she lifted the knife up, pressing the blade against his throat, "I'd watch how you talk to me."
"If she doesn't kill you for that, I will," Sylar agreed, flashing the biker a small smile that was disturbing for how pleasant it was, considering the circumstances.
"Go ahead, prove that you're monsters." He growled, challenging them. "Bet I could kill you both if you didn't have freak powers."
Claire gave a low laugh then, smiling over at Sylar, "Hear that? He can kill us both." She gave him a smug and knowing smirk.
Calmly, Sylar lowered his eyes to his ruined shirt, picking at the gash in it for a moment, before snapping his attentions back to his companion and their prey. "Funny. Last time I checked, he already tried that, and it didn't go very well."
Claire smiled as she looked at his shirt and then looked back at the guy, "You're not the sharpest tool in the box, are you? Didn't you see, we both healed." Then she pressed his blade to his arm, "Let's see if you do."
She cut through the skin quickly, letting the blade sink deep as she ignored him starting to cry out even though he tried to bite it down. She watched the blood well up, running down his arm as she stepped back. "Hmm, guess not."
"What a shame." Sylar flashed her another one of those unsettling smiles; truthfully, it was a little disappointing, somehow. Maybe because with the mood he was in, he would have loved to kill someone with an ability. Not that he needed another new toy--he'd long since mostly quelled the urge, if only because there were more important things to have to worry about then than hunger--but well. He couldn't say he didn't miss his old life. Oh, well. Some things just couldn't be helped. "Guess we won't have to worry about him coming back, after we kill him."
"Kind of almost seems pointless, doesn't it?" She sighed a bit as she met his gaze, then twirled the blade a bit before reaching to hand it to him. "Want to try?"
He took it from her wordlessly, spending a moment in silence as he tested the feel of it in his hand. He wasn't used to using a weapon--didn't need to, when he was one, himself--and as such, he wasn't sure if being handed one was entirely awkward or if, at very least, it would make this worth the effort, somehow. He didn't know, but he decided it was worth a shot, and just like that, he was returning the favor the biker had visited upon him just minutes before, slashing brutally through his chest. An eye for an eye in nearly the most literal sense, except for the fact that, as they'd concluded, the other man didn't heal.
"That's different," Sylar murmured finally, the words barely audible over the whimper the biker tried so very hard to silence.
"You mean actually using a weapon?" She watched him curiously, not even looking at the biker. Her arms were crossed under her breasts as she leaned against the tree. Even for all their games and how she had killed agents, it was still different for her to hurt someone else. She was changing though.
He made a small, affirmative noise. "I'm not used to it," he told her, and then he was cutting into the biker again, this time almost experimentally.
"Well, not everyone is as skilled as you are." She listened to the biker try not to scream but he was having a harder time with it this time. "Can't you silence him?" She asked, glancing to the two buildings nearby.
He cast her an almost disappointed look, and then sighed, turning his attentions back to the biker. He considered him for a moment, from under his eyebrows, and then he was reaching out. He didn't touch him, however--instead, he simply curled his fingers in mid-air, closing down on his vocal chords with telekinetic fingers. "Done."
She smirked a bit as he looked at her, disappointed. "What? You want someone to overhear him screaming and come ruin your fun?"
"I miss the screaming." Sylar shrugged, tracing another line of red down over the biker's chest, idly.
"I'll scream for you later." The words come out before she even thought about it or stopped herself.
Another little look was chanced in her direction, this one hungry--needing--in a feral sort of way, and then, slowly, he smiled. "I'll hold you to that." A pause as he refocused on the biker yet again, and then, "Think he's suffered enough?"
Claire met his gaze as she realized what she had said but she found any denial dying in her throat as he looked at her in such a way that her stomach tightened and her heart was in her throat. She also felt ... anticipation. So she smirked, "You do that." A gaze was barely flickered to the biker, "Probably not but I'm almost bored now."
"Same." That in mind and in such a way that it would almost have been considered nonchalant if not for how brutal it was, he drove the knife through the man's chest, watching him choke soundlessly on his own blood. Then, he was pulling the knife out, wiping the weapon on the man's shirt, carefully, before letting him drop. And calmly, he moved over to her, holding the blade out to her, as she had mentioned wanting to keep it. "All yours."
Claire barely winced as he suddenly stabbed the guy and she watched as the man choked on his blood, flecks of red staining his lips as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. As he slid to the ground, she focused on Sylar and took the knife as he held it out to her. She smirked then, "Thanks, baby." She chuckled a little, as though amused by something.
Baby? Well, that was new, even if she was just kidding. And yet, somehow, he couldn't stop himself from responding in kind, looking more than amused. "You're welcome, sweetheart."
She looked amused as she slipped the blade into back pocket, "You know, it's kind of cute how you got all protective over me." She teased a bit, her head tilting to the side.
He popped one shoulder in a shrug, sobering slowly. "Like I told you, Claire. You're mine."
The addiction was just getting worse.
She glanced up, taking a bite as she glanced at him and then past him to look at the television behind the counter. They were in a small diner in the middle of nowhere, the night dark around them and the place mostly empty except for a couple guys at the end of the counter, a couple in a booth nearby and one lone biker looking dude who was also watching the television.
Something caught Claire's attention, her eyes narrowing as she watched Nathan Petrelli's face fill the screen.
Sylar looked up from his own half-finished burger, sharply, frowning. He'd been having a bad day as it was, every tiny thing grating on sanity that was fragile on the best of days, and this? This was nearly the straw that broke the camel's back.
Fingers curling tightly around the mug of coffee he'd been nursing, he ground his teeth together, trying to resist the urge to either shut the television off, telekinetically, or launch something through it. He managed, albeit narrowly, knuckles near as white as the ceramic of his cup, and looked away. Tuning out Nathan's speech was another matter entirely, however--he couldn't--and so he continued to look sour, even as he traded his coffee out for his burger, taking a vicious bite out of it.
They had both been on edge, perhaps they were feeding off of each other more than anything but the day had been tense and silent. It didn't help that he kept growling every time she tried to say something and so she had given up, choosing to ignore him on the times that he tried to reach out to her.
She heard him grinding his teeth together, choosing to ignore him as she focused on the screen since she was almost unable to look away. She wanted to ask them to turn it off too but they didn't, instead the waitress turned to watch as the biker seemed to focus on the screen too. Of course Nathan was talking about the threat that he was fighting and how he was taking steps to stop it.
Claire shook her head, her muscles tightening as she started to look away but then suddenly the biker was speaking up. "Good, they should lock those freaks up and never let them out. Put them all out of our misery." He muttered, glancing around as though for support but no one said anything.
Sylar shot the biker a black look, his fingers all but twitching as he set his lunch down. "I should kill him for that," he growled, taking care to keep his voice low. "Put him out of our misery." Not that he hadn't heard anti-evolved human statements before and done nothing about them, but considering his mood, that just seemed to twist the knife.
Claire was seething as she looked at Sylar, her eyes dark as she pondered protesting but she found that she just didn't have it in her. Freaks? Yes, at one time she had called herself a freak show but that was different; she didn't want to hear it coming from someone else. Not like that. "I'm tempted to help." She hissed softly, one hand tightly curled into a fist as she glanced at the guy again.
He seemed to feel them looking at him as he twisted around to look at them, "What? Got a problem?"
"And if we do?" Sylar asked, coldly, his tone a sharp contrast to the way he was staring at the thug from under his eyebrows.
Claire merely watched as the biker turned around on his seat, "Don't know. What are you going to do about it?" He asked, smirking almost.
The killer made a noise at the back of his throat that may have passed for amused, were there any humor in it. "Here? Nothing." He shook his head a little. "But I'd watch your back, when you leave."
Claire almost smirked too but the biker merely scoffed, seemingly unimpressed as he rolled his eyes, muttering something as he turned back to his meal. She watched him for a moment before looking back at Sylar, "Should we leave?" She asked, knowing that he had no plans on going far. Neither did she now.
Maybe they could just lay in wait somewhere.
"I've lost my appetite," he answered, that being the closest thing to a yes that she'd get, considering the mood he was in. That said, he dropped his burger back to his plate before pushing away from the table. He hesitated for a moment, and then reached for his wallet, fishing out enough to cover their meals and then some, and then he was turning on his heels, heading for the door. He didn't glance back to see if she followed, but there was the sense that if she didn't, there would be hell to pay.
It wasn't like she was going to stay. Instead she watched him get the money out and then she was sliding out of her seat, rising to her feet as she moved to follow after him. She was half tempted not to follow right away, knowing that he would take it out on her later and then she wondered when she had gotten to that point that she would almost enjoy such a thing. Stepping outside, she looked over the parking lot before she glanced at him, watching to see what he was going to do.
He moved towards their car, wheeling back towards the door once he got close to stare at it, heatedly. Perhaps they should have gone somewhere else--found somewhere to hide, so that when they jumped the sonovabitch, they wouldn't be seen--but his head didn't seem to be on straight, right now. Fury did that to him, and that one little comment had pushed him headfirst into his anger.
Claire moved towards him, seeing the fury in his eyes and she glanced back at the diner as she knew that the biker was done for. Not that she cared, she wanted to see it. A dark little desire wanted to play a hand in it too. "There's a motel just over there." She nodded to the east, "He's probably heading over there."
Sylar considered this for a moment, before nodding; it seemed logical. Especially when he didn't see anything that even remotely resembled what he'd seen bikers drive in the sea of cars around them. "We'll head there, then. Wait for him." Maybe they could even find his room and wait for him there, rather than loitering out in the open.
Claire nodded her head, brushing some hair back from her face as she could see a path leading through a small bunch of trees and then suddenly she smirked. "Or we could wait there for him?" It would be better than attacking someone in their room where all rooms were attached to each other. Then, if they wanted, they could stay there for the night after the hid the biker's body somewhere.
"Sounds good," he replied, flashing her a vicious smirk in return. Canting his head slightly in the direction of the path she'd pointed out rather than gesturing to it, he offered, "Ladies first."
For a moment she almost looked surprised, but then she nodded as she slipped away from him while heading to the path. The lights from the parking lot didn't reach that far, so the path was surprisingly dark as she slipped into the trees. She could see the motel on the other side of the small bunch of trees and some more light but they had cover for now. She glanced back over her shoulder to see if Sylar was following.
He was--or, rather he had been, moving behind her without so much a scuff of his shoes on the pavement. He'd stopped just short of the enterance to the path, however, and was now lurking in the shadows the trees cast, almost unseen. How he did that was still a mystery, but he was so damn good at it.
Claire was getting used to him pretty much hiding in the shadows and she had to smirk as she leaned against a tree near the entrance to the path, crossing her arms as she watched the diner. It was no surprise to her when the biker appeared about ten minutes later, lighting himself a cigarette before starting right towards them without any idea of what he was walking into.
The killer tilted his head to one side, watching the biker like a cat that had just caught sight of a mouse, but other than that, he remained motionless. It was easier to remain hidden that way, honestly, and he planned on letting the thug get close to Claire--maybe he'd even let her play with him first--before destroying him. It was more fun that way.
Claire didn't move, she didn't bother trying to hide and so the biker caught sight of her as he moved closer. He arched a brow at her before suddenly smirking, "Well well, ditch your boyfriend, sweetheart?"
Claire arched a brow right back, chuckling, "Maybe. He's a little pissy at the moment."
"Yeah, he seemed a bit uptight. Got a stick shoved up his ass." The biker chuckled as though he were truly amused with himself.
"That's my baby for you." Claire almost cooed though her tone was a bit dry, "He was a little pissy over the comment you made." She admitted, her head tilting.
"What? He a freak lover?"
Suddenly, Sylar was behind him, rather than lurking in the gloom. He stayed his hand, however, hovering so close behind the biker that he could reach out and touch him if he wanted, but the other man seemed unaware and that was how he wanted it. He simply planned to stand there until Claire gave him some sort of sign or until the biker said something he truly didn't like. And really, judging by how riled the killer looked as he stared over the man's shoulder at Claire, the latter seemed far more likely to happen than the former, and soon.
Claire didn't really look at Sylar even though she saw him, she was aware of him just like always as she stepped closer to the biker, not at all amused. "Maybe he is." Her voice was lower, her eyes glittering in the darkness. "Maybe we both are. Maybe we are freaks."
The biker's eyes narrowed then, all humor dropping as he growled faintly. He didn't say anything, he merely reached for her and she didn't move. She knew that it would piss off Sylar faster as the guy curled his fingers around her throat, pushing her back against a tree. "Then I'll kill you."
The killer raged, his lips twisting into a sneer, and he held up a hand. Then, snapping his fingers back, he was tearing the biker's fingers away from Claire's throat with vicious thought. "No, you won't," he purred, tone all too calm as he lowered his hand, letting the other man have control of his fingers back.
As her back collided with the tree, she narrowed her eyes as she didn't bother trying to stop him because she knew Sylar would. The biker was startled as suddenly his fingers were ripped from her throat, stumbling back as he turned to look at Sylar with wide eyes then. Claire pushed away from the tree, brushing hair out of her face, "Oops, guess he heard you." She replied with a little smirk, looking at the biker as she clucked her tongue.
"Oops," he echoed, still looking far from happy. "But I'm a nice guy. I'll give you a chance." A pause, and then he ordered, "Run." Not that he expected the biker to run--he was waiting for the guy to try pulling a knife or a gun--but that would be where the real fun lied. He'd let the guy get in the first attack, maybe even kill him, and then he'd peel himself off of the pavement much to the other man's shock.
Sylar seemed to guess correctly as the guy reached to his side, pulling out a butterfly knife as the blade appeared. Then he growled, lunging forward as he took a swipe at Sylar. The cry that came out of Claire could have been faked or maybe it was genuine; it was hard to say even as she jumped forward a bit.
He let the knife connect, making no effort to stop the weapon from cutting through clothing and skin, nor did he fight back now that he'd been marked. Instead, he simply took a handful of steps backwards, hissing--he could still feel pain where Claire couldn't--broken skin already making an effort to heal itself. Which, hopefully, the biker would notice, in spite of the dark.
"First one's free." Then, with that, he was wrenching the knife from the biker's hand with a wave of his own.
The biker did notice, he could see it through the tear in the clothing as the skin started to seal and the cut disappeared, taking his flash of smug satisfaction with it. "Freak." He growled, about to attack against but then suddenly he stumbled forward as Claire cracked a thick branch over his back. He hissed in pain before whirling to face her, his anger distracting him from Sylar for a minute as he lunged at Claire.
"Says the bigot," Sylar shot back. "Though I guess you're not all that uncommon, anymore."
If he'd wanted to say something else, however, the words evaporated on his lips as the thug made a move on Claire. She couldn't be hurt, true, or at least not permanently, but he thought he'd gotten his point across to the biker when he'd pulled him off of his companion in the first place. Clearly not. Clearly, he'd have to teach by example. And making another sharp gesture with his hand, he threw the biker neatly into one of the trees at his side.
The biker didn't catch the chance to hurt her as he suddenly flew to the side, slamming into one of the trees before hitting the ground in a crumple. The knife had fallen from his fingers at one point and Claire bent down to scoop it up off the ground, intending to keep it for herself now. She held the hilt tightly, looking at the biker on the ground as he started to pick himself up with a groan.
"You plan on using that?" Sylar gestured to the knife, seemingly unaware that the biker was trying to get to his feet.
Claire looked at the blade in her hand before glancing over at Sylar, seemingly ignoring the biker at the moment. "Not sure. Did you want it or something?" She held the blade up.
"Gimme my knife back." The biker growled, taking a half step forward.
The killer ignored him completely. "I was just wondering if it would keep its edge, if we used it to cut him into little pieces."
She pursed her lips while tilting her head, considering it, "Maybe? You should be able to sharpen it somehow though, right?"
"Telekinetically, yeah," he replied, nodding.
The biker took another step forward, as though he thought that they weren't keeping track of him even while they were talking with one another.
"I kind of want to keep it." Claire nodded, ignoring the growl that came as a response.
"So, keep it." He shrugged, nonchalantly, and then held up his hand to make a stopping gesture, the biker rooted to the ground, now. Other than that, however, he continued to pretend that the other man didn't exist. "It's a nice knife."
"Let's see how sharp it is." She chuckled then, pressing the blade against the palm of her hand as she drew a hard line, cutting the skin and causing the blood to well to the surface. Then she glanced over at the biker, watching his eyes widen as she didn't seem to flinch or really care as she bled for a second before the cut started to heal. "Yep, nice and sharp. Sharper than your finger thing?" She glanced at Sylar with a smirk.
"We could always find out," he suggested, shooting a glance down at where she'd cut herselt before returning his eyes to her. "If you can cut through bone, it might be." He only hoped she had enough sense to test their theory out on the biker, rather than herself.
Claire seemed to consider her options and for a moment it seemed that she might try it on herself. She looked over at the biker then, stepping closer to him as she looked him over. He couldn't move but that didn't mean he couldn't talk, so he hissed, "Don't touch me, bitch."
Her eyes narrowed in response then as she lifted the knife up, pressing the blade against his throat, "I'd watch how you talk to me."
"If she doesn't kill you for that, I will," Sylar agreed, flashing the biker a small smile that was disturbing for how pleasant it was, considering the circumstances.
"Go ahead, prove that you're monsters." He growled, challenging them. "Bet I could kill you both if you didn't have freak powers."
Claire gave a low laugh then, smiling over at Sylar, "Hear that? He can kill us both." She gave him a smug and knowing smirk.
Calmly, Sylar lowered his eyes to his ruined shirt, picking at the gash in it for a moment, before snapping his attentions back to his companion and their prey. "Funny. Last time I checked, he already tried that, and it didn't go very well."
Claire smiled as she looked at his shirt and then looked back at the guy, "You're not the sharpest tool in the box, are you? Didn't you see, we both healed." Then she pressed his blade to his arm, "Let's see if you do."
She cut through the skin quickly, letting the blade sink deep as she ignored him starting to cry out even though he tried to bite it down. She watched the blood well up, running down his arm as she stepped back. "Hmm, guess not."
"What a shame." Sylar flashed her another one of those unsettling smiles; truthfully, it was a little disappointing, somehow. Maybe because with the mood he was in, he would have loved to kill someone with an ability. Not that he needed another new toy--he'd long since mostly quelled the urge, if only because there were more important things to have to worry about then than hunger--but well. He couldn't say he didn't miss his old life. Oh, well. Some things just couldn't be helped. "Guess we won't have to worry about him coming back, after we kill him."
"Kind of almost seems pointless, doesn't it?" She sighed a bit as she met his gaze, then twirled the blade a bit before reaching to hand it to him. "Want to try?"
He took it from her wordlessly, spending a moment in silence as he tested the feel of it in his hand. He wasn't used to using a weapon--didn't need to, when he was one, himself--and as such, he wasn't sure if being handed one was entirely awkward or if, at very least, it would make this worth the effort, somehow. He didn't know, but he decided it was worth a shot, and just like that, he was returning the favor the biker had visited upon him just minutes before, slashing brutally through his chest. An eye for an eye in nearly the most literal sense, except for the fact that, as they'd concluded, the other man didn't heal.
"That's different," Sylar murmured finally, the words barely audible over the whimper the biker tried so very hard to silence.
"You mean actually using a weapon?" She watched him curiously, not even looking at the biker. Her arms were crossed under her breasts as she leaned against the tree. Even for all their games and how she had killed agents, it was still different for her to hurt someone else. She was changing though.
He made a small, affirmative noise. "I'm not used to it," he told her, and then he was cutting into the biker again, this time almost experimentally.
"Well, not everyone is as skilled as you are." She listened to the biker try not to scream but he was having a harder time with it this time. "Can't you silence him?" She asked, glancing to the two buildings nearby.
He cast her an almost disappointed look, and then sighed, turning his attentions back to the biker. He considered him for a moment, from under his eyebrows, and then he was reaching out. He didn't touch him, however--instead, he simply curled his fingers in mid-air, closing down on his vocal chords with telekinetic fingers. "Done."
She smirked a bit as he looked at her, disappointed. "What? You want someone to overhear him screaming and come ruin your fun?"
"I miss the screaming." Sylar shrugged, tracing another line of red down over the biker's chest, idly.
"I'll scream for you later." The words come out before she even thought about it or stopped herself.
Another little look was chanced in her direction, this one hungry--needing--in a feral sort of way, and then, slowly, he smiled. "I'll hold you to that." A pause as he refocused on the biker yet again, and then, "Think he's suffered enough?"
Claire met his gaze as she realized what she had said but she found any denial dying in her throat as he looked at her in such a way that her stomach tightened and her heart was in her throat. She also felt ... anticipation. So she smirked, "You do that." A gaze was barely flickered to the biker, "Probably not but I'm almost bored now."
"Same." That in mind and in such a way that it would almost have been considered nonchalant if not for how brutal it was, he drove the knife through the man's chest, watching him choke soundlessly on his own blood. Then, he was pulling the knife out, wiping the weapon on the man's shirt, carefully, before letting him drop. And calmly, he moved over to her, holding the blade out to her, as she had mentioned wanting to keep it. "All yours."
Claire barely winced as he suddenly stabbed the guy and she watched as the man choked on his blood, flecks of red staining his lips as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. As he slid to the ground, she focused on Sylar and took the knife as he held it out to her. She smirked then, "Thanks, baby." She chuckled a little, as though amused by something.
Baby? Well, that was new, even if she was just kidding. And yet, somehow, he couldn't stop himself from responding in kind, looking more than amused. "You're welcome, sweetheart."
She looked amused as she slipped the blade into back pocket, "You know, it's kind of cute how you got all protective over me." She teased a bit, her head tilting to the side.
He popped one shoulder in a shrug, sobering slowly. "Like I told you, Claire. You're mine."
