The Burning - Mad Men Verse

[chimeramimicry]

Part of the Mohinder/Sylar RP found at [Bad username or site: splice_of_life/ @ livejournal.com] 's journal, Mad Men verse.

"Is that smoke?"

Peter had just gotten finished teaching Sylar about using the portion of Hiro's power that enabled time stopping when he glanced up from the roof and shielded his eyes from the sun. Yes, obviously, it was smoke. A lot of smoke.

"Shit. That's a lot of supplies going up. Do you think one of those gangs has gotten up this far? We should have barricaded the roads further down."

There wasn't much to do for it. Not now.

Comments

[heroslayer]

For a brief, hopeful moment, it seems as though Sylar is willing to listen. He releases his hold on Nathan, watching him slide down the wall dispassionately, anger and agony rolling off of him in alternating waves, like the ebb and flow of the sea. He moves to sit down in an armchair opposite Angela, tears running freely down his face, though he seems entirely unaware of them, and sits there staring blankly at (through) his mother, his breath hitching in the back of his throat, almost sobbing. That's it, though -- that's where his mercy ends.

Before Peter can react to comfort him or check on Nathan, he sinks his mental claws into everyone assembled, save Peter. Blood runs from Nathan's nose, but he remains conscious. They all do, turning intent albeit half-vacant stares on him. None of them will ever be quite whole again, if and when he lets them go, something vital shattered, and none of them will ever have another thought that's soley their own as long as he has his fingers on their hearts. They're his now, just like the plants which are still mutating terribly outside, destroying the camp as they creep ever closer, and right now, what he wants is an audience to his pain, so they watch.

"I never told him I loved him," he says after some time. "I guess I always knew he'd break my heart."

He pauses, sucking in a sharp breath, and reaches up to thumb furiously at his eyes. It only serves to make the tears come more heavily, and so he gives him, turning sideways in the seat to look at Nathan. "You could have lived without them. You didn't need to kill him. You could have been happy without them. But now we all die here. You screwed us."

He turns away so he can get to his feet and head for the door. He doesn't look back, but he doesn't release his hold over the room, either. "Kill him."

All at once, the room turns on Peter, a feral, mindless mob, but Sylar doesn't stop to watch. They'll either kill him or they'll force him to murder them. Either way, he gets what he wants, and he has more important things to worry about, right now. Like Molly, who's still waiting for him outside, if only because he crushed her mind, too. He kneels down next to her, murmuring a genuine apology as he pulls her into his arms, and saws into her head from behind. She never sees it coming, but he doubts she feels it, either.

Even the high of a new power doesn't help, but he wasn't expecting it to.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Continued here, sometime later.

http://splice-of-life.livejournal.com/12375.html