Matthew watches the telekinetic dance of the art supplies instead of looking at Sylar, his cheeks turning a warm shade of red. He's still not used to how casually these powers are brought to bear; for him, everything about being a wolf is difficult and he hates it. But for Sylar, it seems as effortless as breathing.
"So you've been told? You say that like you don't have much experience with friends, Gabriel."
A muscle in his jaw twitches and one of the paint bottles falter in its exit from the satchel. It could've just been a bump of the bag, certainly nothing that Matt had said. The colors begin to dole out tiny dollops upon the palette.
"The life of a watchmaker doesn't exactly lend itself to social opportunities, Matthew." Slightly tense, but not regretful. After a couple more bites he offers, "Friends are nice. But not for me."
"Ah. Of course." A pause, then an uncertain little laugh. "Does that mean we're not sharing a meal together as friends, then? You're certainly sending mixed messages."
He looks sidelong for a moment, watching Sylar's reaction closely.
The next spoonful pauses in his mouth. Oh. He had trapped himself there, hadn't he? Sylar stirs at the rice for several seconds.
Finally, "You said before you weren't interested in a relationship." He puts the lid back on the rice, goes next for a satay. He bites off the top portion from the stick, watching Matt inquisitively.
"So this? It's whatever you want it to be. If what I drew is accurate, and it unfortunately always is, this is just the beginning."
It's a thoughtful sound, and it's followed by a moment of silence as Matthew examines what it is he actually would like. More information, first and foremost.
"I mean, what I've said is actually that I don't think I'm your type, and that I wasn't interested in sex with you during our first meeting. Is your definition of relationship wholly a sexual one, Gabriel?"
Sylar is silent as he finishes the chicken, sucking on the end of the stick as he watches the supplies settle back into the bag.
"No. It isn't. I find that I do not often... desire that at all." He responds but his eyes are on the blank canvas. Well, blank to Matthew, but to him, it's a blurry mess of swirling colors. He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. A deep inhale of breath, then exhale, and he stands.
"I'm glad you're here to protect me. This thing is like a trance. Once it starts..." He holds out his hands, drawing both the palette and brushes to his fingers.
“Is there anything I need to know so that I can protect you effectively? How to pull you out, or what might happen?”
That’s sort of a concerning thought to hear, that someone is trusting him to act as their protection. But he finds himself quietly hoping that maybe it might somehow be possible that he could. Even if it means shifting, he’d go wild wolf in order to protect Gabriel.
Someone actually wanting to protect him. The monster. It's a thought that makes him laugh a little. If the man only knew the things he'd done... How many people he'd killed.
"There's no coming out of it until the painting's finished. It's like... being high." He lets another small chuckle. "In fact the man I took this from, that's the only way he could access it. Doing drugs. Fortunately, I am spared that affliction."
“Took it from?” Cautious, not sure if he’s prying, but suddenly sort of sure he needs to know. It feels like there’s a lot here he just doesn’t know, doesn’t grasp.
His head tilts, watching the canvas. Shifting shapes, different scenes. Which glimpse into his future would his mind settle upon?
"Maybe I'll explain that snippet. Maybe... I won't." He likes this, he realizes. His past unknown. To Matt, he was just Gabriel. To the most wanted database somewhere, he was Sylar. The duality of man. Angel, or demon? He continues, rousing himself from his own thoughts.
"For you, if all goes well, this will be just a show. I am no Bob Ross but I am certain it will be... hm, enjoyable." A deep breath and he turns back towards his new lupine friend. "Ready?" Was he?
“As ready as I can be, I think. I mean, given how little I actually understand.” But he nods, nabbing a satay before settling back into the bench to see what comes next.
He’s nervous, though. Even if Gabriel won’t talk about what he’s done or what’s going on, Matthew is aware of some darkness about him, some thread of malice that’s threaded through his demeanor. He just doesn’t know yet how deep it all goes.
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.
Matthew watched, mingled confusion and awe warring within him as Gabriel works. The utter blankness in his eyes is frightening, but more because of Matthew’s concern than anything else. He can tell that Gabriel is unsettled, that whatever all of this means is taking a toll on him.
But there’s nothing he can do in this moment to help, besides watching his back, being here to support and bear witness.
Lips parted, his movements nearly serpentine, he paints for the next half hour. He doesn't slow or look away from his task. Brushes fly to his hands when one becomes too dirty because Sylar, in his haste, forgot a container of water.
He is many things but a natural artist is not one of them. Some of the lines are skewed, there's splotches of ink that aren't smoothed over, but eventually, a clear picture begins to form. A giant blue ferris wheel is front and center, sparkling with neon lights. The bright full moon in the upper right corner crests above a dark cloud. Matt and Gabriel with linked hands move towards the carnival ride, seemingly at peace.
It would be romantic were it not for the dripping blood in the foreground, just barely above the canvas's bottom edge. Its a river of blood and torn limbs, as if discarded or reaching for the pair, with the actual body count unseen. Sylar kneels to finish painting in the redness, abandoning the brushes entirely and using his hands.
He falls back into the grass, his hands sprawling beside himself. He closes his eyes, takes several deep breaths, and when he opens them again, his eyes are his own once more. Sylar blinks several times, like a man faced with too-bright sunlight after being cooped up in darkness and focuses on the painting before him.
"Gabriel?!" Matthew moves off the bench, to be closer to him, to make sure he's okay, a hand reaching out to brush against his cheek before he realizes how weird and invasive that probably seems and pulls back away. The painting can wait--it already doesn't make sense.
Gabriel reaches for that hand before it has a chance to pull completely away, grasping with his own colorful grip. There's a second where he leans into it, seeking whatever comfort it might bring. The gestures are entirely by reflex, so he'll tell himself later, and only a half second later does his mind catch up to his actions.
"Oh, um. Sorry." He says shakily and releases him. Are they at that level of trust yet? Only a short while ago Matt had him turn away when he shifted, and now... Gabriel takes a couple more seconds of silence to settle his mind before he pushes himself up from the ground.
A towel flies to him and he absently wipes at his hands, looking of the drying canvas board.
"I've never seen that Ferris wheel in my life." He finally concludes.
"Nor have I--but there's absolutely no way I'd be out at a carnival on a full moon. I'd be...it would be a Very Bad Thing." He'd probably become the cause of the bloody mess in the painting--but he'd never let that happen.
Gabriel's nodding before Matt finishes. He recalls a mention of the full moon the last time. "And I wouldn't... Not that many, and never any innocents."
They didn't have anything he wanted, why would he do it? There's no missing heads at least. But the body parts, it could be either of them as the cause. But, why?
"This ability is never exact. It's a snapshot of things to come, like a comic book, but things can always change."
"Well, something needs to change, because that sort of carnage isn't acceptable." He lingers at Gabriel's side, not touching him again, but very clearly wanting to be close, to be present, to offer comfort, even if he doesn't quite know how to with Gabriel. But the fact that he wants to this badly, even he can recognize that as a thing he's feeling.
"Agreed. Well. I know where not to schedule our next..." Gabriel glances over at him and there's an urge to reach out for him to touch his hand, put an arm around his shoulder... He licks his lips and turns away. "... Our next whatever." Sylar backs away a couple steps, grasping a satay and biting into it. "I could do more. Paint more panels. That is, if you don't mind knowing your future."
Matthew watches Gabriel step away, not sure how exactly to interpret that. "I think I'm good. I'd rather stay in the present with you, for now. If that's okay?"
Though he'd hesitate to admit it, seeing him trance out like that had been a little bit frightening. He needs time to get used to the sort of superhuman powers that Sylar is already very used to.
Sylar nods, and for a few seconds, looks relieved. This power took a lot out of him, more than he could recall it doing before. And there was still that concern about what else may come back. He waves the satay stick at the paint supplies, as a conductor to a band, and the mess begins to clean itself up.
"That's fine. I'd like that, actually." Except, there had been that question earlier. He nibbles on the stick, then turns to watch Matthew closely. "Before we go any further, in any direction, you deserve to know: I kill people for their abilities." No trace of regret, nor promises he'll stop.
"Uh. That's...a lot to take in. Why do you do it?"
There's a part of him that wants, despite what he just heard Gabriel say, to find some sort of...justification? Explanation? He wants to see the best in people. In everyone but himself, honestly.
"For what it's worth, you don't need to kill me, if you want to become a werewolf. I'd just need to bite you."
The all important 'why'. The most obvious question. It's as if killing needs to have a reason when nature is itself chaotic and kills indiscriminately. He can't help but grin at that.
"No. I don't want a wolf's hunger inside my mind. Combined with my own it would not be ideal." And that's a fine way to explain it though, isn't it? A hunger, an addiction... an excuse. He doesn't require the veil of a compulsion to hide behind.
"I do it because I like to. I want to become better. And these abilities are hidden, tucked away..." He taps at his forehead with the stick. "Along with so, so many other things. All the answers in the universe lie within."
"I...can't be okay with that, Gabriel. You come out here and tell me that--how am I supposed to react? 'Oh, okay, good to know, now let's be BFF, if not more!' Fuck." He stands and begins to pace, tension clear across his shoulders, the line of his back, his hands clenching.
There's a part of him that says the best answer would be to shift, right now. To shift and to attack. He tells that part of him to fuck off.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 04:45 am (UTC)"So you've been told? You say that like you don't have much experience with friends, Gabriel."
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 04:56 am (UTC)"The life of a watchmaker doesn't exactly lend itself to social opportunities, Matthew." Slightly tense, but not regretful. After a couple more bites he offers, "Friends are nice. But not for me."
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 05:05 am (UTC)He looks sidelong for a moment, watching Sylar's reaction closely.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 05:17 am (UTC)Finally, "You said before you weren't interested in a relationship." He puts the lid back on the rice, goes next for a satay. He bites off the top portion from the stick, watching Matt inquisitively.
"So this? It's whatever you want it to be. If what I drew is accurate, and it unfortunately always is, this is just the beginning."
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 05:29 am (UTC)It's a thoughtful sound, and it's followed by a moment of silence as Matthew examines what it is he actually would like. More information, first and foremost.
"I mean, what I've said is actually that I don't think I'm your type, and that I wasn't interested in sex with you during our first meeting. Is your definition of relationship wholly a sexual one, Gabriel?"
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 06:25 am (UTC)"No. It isn't. I find that I do not often... desire that at all." He responds but his eyes are on the blank canvas. Well, blank to Matthew, but to him, it's a blurry mess of swirling colors. He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. A deep inhale of breath, then exhale, and he stands.
"I'm glad you're here to protect me. This thing is like a trance. Once it starts..." He holds out his hands, drawing both the palette and brushes to his fingers.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 06:31 am (UTC)That’s sort of a concerning thought to hear, that someone is trusting him to act as their protection. But he finds himself quietly hoping that maybe it might somehow be possible that he could. Even if it means shifting, he’d go wild wolf in order to protect Gabriel.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 06:39 am (UTC)"There's no coming out of it until the painting's finished. It's like... being high." He lets another small chuckle. "In fact the man I took this from, that's the only way he could access it. Doing drugs. Fortunately, I am spared that affliction."
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 06:48 am (UTC)“Took it from?” Cautious, not sure if he’s prying, but suddenly sort of sure he needs to know. It feels like there’s a lot here he just doesn’t know, doesn’t grasp.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 06:54 am (UTC)"Maybe I'll explain that snippet. Maybe... I won't." He likes this, he realizes. His past unknown. To Matt, he was just Gabriel. To the most wanted database somewhere, he was Sylar. The duality of man. Angel, or demon? He continues, rousing himself from his own thoughts.
"For you, if all goes well, this will be just a show. I am no Bob Ross but I am certain it will be... hm, enjoyable." A deep breath and he turns back towards his new lupine friend. "Ready?" Was he?
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 07:03 am (UTC)He’s nervous, though. Even if Gabriel won’t talk about what he’s done or what’s going on, Matthew is aware of some darkness about him, some thread of malice that’s threaded through his demeanor. He just doesn’t know yet how deep it all goes.
no subject
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.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 09:11 pm (UTC)But there’s nothing he can do in this moment to help, besides watching his back, being here to support and bear witness.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 12:15 am (UTC)Lips parted, his movements nearly serpentine, he paints for the next half hour. He doesn't slow or look away from his task. Brushes fly to his hands when one becomes too dirty because Sylar, in his haste, forgot a container of water.
He is many things but a natural artist is not one of them. Some of the lines are skewed, there's splotches of ink that aren't smoothed over, but eventually, a clear picture begins to form. A giant blue ferris wheel is front and center, sparkling with neon lights. The bright full moon in the upper right corner crests above a dark cloud. Matt and Gabriel with linked hands move towards the carnival ride, seemingly at peace.
It would be romantic were it not for the dripping blood in the foreground, just barely above the canvas's bottom edge. Its a river of blood and torn limbs, as if discarded or reaching for the pair, with the actual body count unseen. Sylar kneels to finish painting in the redness, abandoning the brushes entirely and using his hands.
He falls back into the grass, his hands sprawling beside himself. He closes his eyes, takes several deep breaths, and when he opens them again, his eyes are his own once more. Sylar blinks several times, like a man faced with too-bright sunlight after being cooped up in darkness and focuses on the painting before him.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 02:25 am (UTC)"Oh, um. Sorry." He says shakily and releases him. Are they at that level of trust yet? Only a short while ago Matt had him turn away when he shifted, and now... Gabriel takes a couple more seconds of silence to settle his mind before he pushes himself up from the ground.
A towel flies to him and he absently wipes at his hands, looking of the drying canvas board.
"I've never seen that Ferris wheel in my life." He finally concludes.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 02:58 am (UTC)They didn't have anything he wanted, why would he do it? There's no missing heads at least. But the body parts, it could be either of them as the cause. But, why?
"This ability is never exact. It's a snapshot of things to come, like a comic book, but things can always change."
no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 10:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 03:54 pm (UTC)Though he'd hesitate to admit it, seeing him trance out like that had been a little bit frightening. He needs time to get used to the sort of superhuman powers that Sylar is already very used to.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-27 08:56 am (UTC)"That's fine. I'd like that, actually." Except, there had been that question earlier. He nibbles on the stick, then turns to watch Matthew closely. "Before we go any further, in any direction, you deserve to know: I kill people for their abilities." No trace of regret, nor promises he'll stop.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-27 09:16 am (UTC)"Uh. That's...a lot to take in. Why do you do it?"
There's a part of him that wants, despite what he just heard Gabriel say, to find some sort of...justification? Explanation? He wants to see the best in people. In everyone but himself, honestly.
"For what it's worth, you don't need to kill me, if you want to become a werewolf. I'd just need to bite you."
no subject
Date: 2020-11-27 09:39 am (UTC)"No. I don't want a wolf's hunger inside my mind. Combined with my own it would not be ideal." And that's a fine way to explain it though, isn't it? A hunger, an addiction... an excuse. He doesn't require the veil of a compulsion to hide behind.
"I do it because I like to. I want to become better. And these abilities are hidden, tucked away..." He taps at his forehead with the stick. "Along with so, so many other things. All the answers in the universe lie within."
no subject
Date: 2020-11-27 09:49 am (UTC)There's a part of him that says the best answer would be to shift, right now. To shift and to attack. He tells that part of him to fuck off.
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