Sylar licks his upper lip, realizes he's hesitating. He closes his eyes tightly. His thoughts are a constant rapidfire stream of anxiety, and for a second, he's uncertain if the power will happen again. Maybe it had been a fluke? He can't think about what other powers might come back, if it wasn't. Should he warn Matthew about what happens when his hands glow orange? How bad things could get simply by being around him?
There's a soft intake of breath as a pleasant buzzing swarms his mind just before everything goes blank. His eyes snap open, milky white and cloudy. As a man possessed he steps forward and begins painting, dabbing his brush into the mixture of colors. His movements are quick and certain, if erratic. A line here, a swirl of color there, moving from spot to spot as the power demands.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-11-25 07:44 am (UTC)There's a soft intake of breath as a pleasant buzzing swarms his mind just before everything goes blank. His eyes snap open, milky white and cloudy. As a man possessed he steps forward and begins painting, dabbing his brush into the mixture of colors. His movements are quick and certain, if erratic. A line here, a swirl of color there, moving from spot to spot as the power demands.