snowblindrpg | [log] Scared of Lonely [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] Scared of Lonely [closed]

Characters: Stephen, Al, and Sylar
Location: Building 263
Date: Night 219
Summary: A space wizard, a suit of armor, and a serial killer walk into a bar....
Warnings: None yet.

[263: A small office building. It's the sort that looks like it should attach to some larger facility, but whatever it might have connected to is long gone. It's two stories: the first contains a small lobby area, a waiting room, and an area for secretaries. Going upstairs reveals a small honeycomb of eerily empty cubicles. There are desks and chairs in each one, but nothing on any desk or placed on any of the cubicle walls. There's one small one-person office in the back that's similarly empty, and two public bathrooms that work, though the water runs cold.]

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Murder night. That was before my time here.

[He's still trying to decide how much of this he believes. Gabriel seems to believe it himself, which Stephen wishes he could think was more promising than it is.]

You were the one who asked me if I would keep track of powers on the census. Were you looking for something?

[ That's right, he did do that. As Sylar speaks, his eyes shine with curiosity. ]

Just because I don't have the hunger to collect powers anymore, it doesn't mean I'm not interested. So many of us are exceptional in our own worlds- I thought there might be a pattern there. Perhaps the Admin had brought us in according to specific traits, even if those ended up muted. Maybe she wanted people who had been through exceptional circumstances.

[ As he pauses, he looks back up to Stephen. He sighs and shrugs, leaning back against the wall. ]

I'd hoped we could piece together some of what we had to do if we had clues about why we were here. But I doubt it would've helped. We're cut off by all these damn puzzles.

[It's a good argument for gathering the information, and an idea that might have merit. It's also a nice excuse if Gabriel is still interested for more dangerous reasons. Stephen hasn't been collecting more than the bare minimum for probably a week now anyway, though. It's harder to find enthusiasm for the project now that he knows the people behind the names on the obituaries.]

Maybe. I don't doubt there's some kind of pattern to it, but I've begun to think it probably doesn't matter.

[He doesn't matter. He wasn't chosen to be brought here because he's needed here. He was brought here to fill a quota; his conviction of that has been settling deeper as he's watched good people, smart people die and not return. If it mattered to the system which specific people were here, Natasha and Clint would be alive right now.]

I should have a look at that leg.

[ Sylar's reasons tend to align with both his reasonable self and his more predatory instincts. He'd already become a master of rationalization back home, why not continue the trend here?

He does raise an eyebrow with Stephen's response. But he also nods when Stephen moves on, and begins unwrapping the cloth bandage, with a slight wince. ]

All right. I'll need your help with my jeans- wasn't kidding about that one.

[ This was going to be painful, and he frequently couldn't control his left leg when he had to try to bend it. Best to leave it straight as much as possible. He takes a piece of a pill out of a bottle in his pocket and dry-swallows it before they start.

They manage to get the jeans off and now he's half-wrapped up in his constellation throw blanket. There's a much cleaner bandage that had been hiding under his jeans, with gauze underneath. And it's now that he decides to start speaking again. ]

I still think it matters. No matter how we manage here, they have to have brought us all for some reason. Have you met any of the children here? They're all exceptionally bright and resilient. Someone brought in people with the tools to maybe make it through this place. I'm starting to think it's Andromeda.

[Stephen does his best to help, but it'll become clear pretty quickly that he has only limited use of his hands. Still, between the two of them they get it done, and he's as careful as he can be. Stephen lifts an eyebrow at the pill, trying to catch a glimpse of the label on the bottle -- if Sylar doesn't volunteer the information as they're getting his jeans off, he'll have to bring it up once the exam proper is under way.

He looks up from where his trembling hands hover above that bandage, having thought that topic of conversation was closed.]

Interesting theory. We know she's tried to protect us at least once.

[Gently as he can, he starts to peel away the bandage. Alright, if Gabriel wants to argue for meaning, he'll see how well he can refute the thoughts that have made looking for meaning seem pointless recently.]

I could argue, though, that signs point to the system being predisposed to pull from certain dimensions. Nearly everyone here is human, and most of us are from something recognizable as Earth. If we're exceptional, it might be only a byproduct of how the machine works across dimensions.

[ Sylar doesn't call attention to the shaky hands- it's still more helpful than trying to do this himself. He raises an eyebrow back when he's got the bottle out. He holds it out for Stephen to see that it is, indeed, prescribed to Gabriel Gray, even if the prescribing doctor is House. It's also still mostly full. ]

The population of people with special abilities in my world is something like .0001 percent. If you had the whole range of dimensions to go with, mine would not be the place to look, I'd think. But you do have a point about the majority of humans. Again, we're talking about having the right tool- nngh.

[ He winces and tries to be quiet, but once the wound is exposed to the air, the pain's worse. There's gauze stuffed in the hole, and he reaches forward himself to start tugging it out. The wound has been trying to heal onto it, so it's more messy than the rest of the bandages. If Stephen gets a good look at the bone, he can see just how perfect the circle was that went through Sylar's leg- it's more like it had been stamped out than drilled. ]

I have more gauze in my bag. It'd clearly been needing a change.

[ Trying to distract himself with theorizing hasn't worked too well. It had been worth a try, at least. ]

[Outwardly, Stephen's expression remains cool and clinical as he takes the opportunity to examine the wound. Inwardly, he feels a wave of pity as he sees the damage for himself.]

Hang on, I'm going to try to get some more light on it.

[All he has for that is his tablet, but it's the work of a moment to get it out of his bag and switched on. Absently, he swings the Cloak off his shoulders and pushes the tablet into its folds as it hangs in midair.]

Hold this for me, please.

[To Gabriel again:]

Where'd you get the gauze? And did Doctor House prescribe you anything other than the painkillers?

[ Sylar can't help it, he smiles disbelievingly at the cloak as it shifts and moves and holds the tablet. He had nearly forgotten about that cloak, how could he have done that? He stares at it, his eyes sharp as he tries to figure out how it works, his voice a little distant as he answers Strange. ]

Doctor Volakis had the gauze. That's the last of it, in the bag. [ And unfortunately, it wasn't much. ] Nothing else from House. The Vicodin I got for MN poisoning initially, but that's gone now. Thankfully.

...does your cloak have a name?

[ At least he's less focused on the pain now? ]

[The Cloak, for its part, seems focused on its task -- it keeps shifting minutely to keep the meager light trained on Sylar's wound.]

The Cloak of Levitation.

[It's...not a great name. Stephen gently pinches the remaining bit of gauze in Gabriel's leg, drawing it out as carefully as he's able. He's not going to be much help repacking it.]

Doctor Watson suggested Levi. We're trying it out.

[ Gabriel sees that Stephen's not going to be help getting new gauze in there. Well, he's dealt with worse conditions, fixing himself up. He can do this, too. He closes his eyes tight in a prolonged wince as the last bit of gauze pull away. When his eyes open again, he's clearly focusing on the cloak- staring at it so hard that it seems like he's trying to see the nanites in it. ]

Levi? I like it. Although I guess the big question is how does it like it?

[ He should probably address the cloak itself, huh? ] What do you think, you like Levi all right? You can understand me, right? Or do you just pay attention to the doctor?

[Stephen frowns at the wound, his concentration on the problems there though he does his best to keep up the conversation. Smart man, choosing something else to focus on. There's not much he can do beyond a visual examination, not without so much as a saline solution with which to irrigate it.]

Oh, it understands. It picks up on a lot more than you'd think.

[The Cloak ripples, nudging in closer with the tablet, its collar perked. It's an acknowledgment, at least, if a somewhat ambiguous response to the question.]

Good luck getting it to answer any questions, though.

[ Sylar loves this thing. The way it ripples in acknowledgement makes him smile, even if its laced with pain. ]

Of course you pick up on a lot, Levi. You were important enough to shove nanites in, after all, huh?

I wonder...if we could take them out of you, if you'd even notice. Or maybe you'd feel better. I wouldn't think a Cloak of Levitation would get bogged down by radiation, after all.

We'd be able to fly, then.

[It's a wistful comment, but it's followed by a one-shouldered shrug from Stephen.]

Radiation is energy, same as magic. I honestly don't know what would happen.

[ His eyes light up when he hears the Cloak can usually fly- well, fly people around, he assumes. But it's not until the later comments that he looks over at Stephen. ]

Magic is energy, too? It's not...unexplainable?

It's not explainable by modern science, but it's explainable, yeah. I didn't just start doing this stuff; I studied it.

I know you can't do any of it here, but would you teach me some of the principles behind it? [ He realizes he's asking a bit too eagerly and pulls back a bit to explain. ] I'm curious whether some of the abilities on my world might be explained the same way. I can understand the genetic and biological end of things, but not the way some of those things defy physics.

[Stephen hesitates. The Ancient One had been cautious when it came to taking on students, for good reason. Teaching magic to a serial killer, even one who appears to be reformed, even in an environment where he couldn't possibly do anything with it, strikes him as the definition of a bad idea.]

...Some of the theory, maybe.

[ Stephen's right to be wary. Teaching Sylar something like this is like giving an alcoholic a bottle of hard liquor. But Sylar hardly understands that, of course. He just knows it's been forever since he's learned anything unique, so he nods eagerly. ]

The theory is more what I'd be interested in, anyway. I always thought magic was completely unknowable by nature- I didn't even know there was a theory behind it.

[ Thoughts of the pain in his leg could not be further from his mind at this point. So- distraction achieved? ]

[And yet Stephen can't quite resist the opportunity to lecture, no matter how ill-advised.]

What we call magic is the ways in which we can use our mental and spiritual alignment with aspects of the universe to draw on dimensional energy and shape it to our needs. You could call it spells, or call it rewriting the source code of the universe. It's all applied metaphysics.

Applied metaphysics. [ The term makes him chuckle, even if it sounds a little raw right now. ] So you're basically bending reality to your will. And you're using energy from outside your universe, so you're not violating the conservation of energy. That's an interesting workaround.

[ He's looking off into the distance, mind working as quickly as the Vicodin in his system allows. ]

I'm guessing that's a very delicate balance- you have to be really careful not to throw off parts of reality too much, right?

Basically. There are other kinds of power, too. My world's got all kinds of superheroes.

[While Gabriel is distracted, he'll get to work getting the gauze ready to re-pack the wound. They've done about what they can here.]

There are rules. Things we don't do.

[ It's a good time. Although he's not so distracted that he won't be ready to take the gauze if he needs to. Stephen's shaky hands could prove to be too much for this. The Vicodin's kicked in, at least partially, by now, and he's willing to get dinged a little bit. ]

Oh, yeah? Things to keep the cogs of the universe from falling apart, I'm guessing. What are the rules? You ever broken them?

[ Superheroes, right? Rules get broken in that sort of world. ]

Me? I would never.

[Stephen grins to himself as he shapes the gauze.]

Let's see...we don't bend space on the material plane. Never done that, but I've seen it done. Didn't much care for it. We don't tamper with continuum probabilities -- time, I mean.

[No denial of culpability on that one, just a chuckle instead.]

[ Sylar smiles back as he realized he'd guessed correctly. And Stephen was even giving him the specifics, too. ]

Time manipulation, eh? Never did figure that one out. [ Probably for the best, that. ] Time travelers are a real pain in the ass, though, I did get that much.

So what big, important thing was it that you tempered with the continuum for?

[Stephen can't help it; that gets a proper laugh out of him.]

You have no idea how much of a pain in the ass I can be. Fate of the Earth stuff, you know how it is.

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[log] Scared of Lonely [closed]

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cw: addiction

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