Comments | gray_atonement: 081 - but if you look twice you can see it's all lies

gray_atonement

081 - but if you look twice you can see it's all lies

Jan 22, 2011 14:10

Popularity is a joke. How do you people deal with everyone wanting something from you? Wanting your time, your thoughts. Your opinions.

I can barely even think.

[Private to Tim]
I don't know how to do this anymore.

[Private to Cissie]
Are we going to talk

( Spam for Claire )

action spam, last voyages, she turned into a gecko, my powers are the best thing ever, cissies a little like jailbait, the reddest of robins isnt so bad

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Spam! notarrowette January 23 2011, 03:48:14 UTC

[Cissie trudged into the house Saturday night after her "carpool" dropped her off. She'd been caught by surprise when a mom in a minivan full of girls had shown up that afternoon to pick her up for a ballet recital, but she hadn't been able to escape it. Though maybe that would have been for the best. She hadn't had a ballet recital in five or six years; it was surprising how much came back to her, but she hadn't been perfect. Judging by the reactions of her port counterpart's "friends" and teacher, she hadn't even been close to perfect. It was humiliating and depressing. She'd never done that badly in any class or performance she'd been involved in as a child, and it was not very fun. None of the other girls would talk to her on the way home, which was kind of a relief. Pretending to be nine wasn't that easy ( ... )

Spam! gray_atonement January 23 2011, 04:01:00 UTC

[Sylar had thought that the house was empty as he made his way down the stairs in jeans and without a shirt toward the kitchen to find some food. He had been exposed to lacrosse practice earlier and was covered in bruises from missing the ball and being checked. The aching whenever anything touched his skin was why he opted to be without a shirt now, but he froze when he stepped into the doorway of the kitchen and saw the girl sitting there.

He did an awkward half turn as he considered leaving, turned back toward her, and then away again. The intelligent thing would be to turn around and walk away, but some part of him still held out hope for their reconciliation. He was also concerned, in spite of himself, at her nightmares and the screaming he heard from her room. Multiple times he had lay awake listening or risen to the hall, but never had he mustered the courage to enter her room and make sure she was alright.

And so he stood there, still awkwardly turning occasionally to debate staying or going.]

Spam! notarrowette January 23 2011, 07:07:42 UTC

[Cissie had her back to the door, so she didn't notice him immediately. Instead, she poured herself a bowl of cereal and realized she still needed milk. Which meant clamoring down from the tall chair to go to the fridge and grab the gallon. It wasn't that this was incredibly difficult; she wasn't that small, but she was small for her age compared to the other kids her age, which was something she wasn't used to. And she definitely wasn't used to being this size. A gallon of milk felt about twice as heavy as it should. She was preoccupied, and Sylar was still in the hall, so she didn't notice him even while she carried the milk back to the counter and climbed up on the chair again. She went to pour the milk in the bowl, but her grip on the heavy jug slipped. The carton thumped to the counter, hitting the edge of the bowl and sending cereal scattering across the marble surface while sloshing milk out that completely missed the bowl ( ... )

Spam! gray_atonement January 23 2011, 08:59:24 UTC

"Because you're normal." [He couldn't pass up the quip even if he wanted to. Despite that, the killer moved forward even as he spoke to put a lid on the milk and return it to the fridge. Then he began cleaning up the cereal with his hands, begrudging the loss of his abilities once again. Sylar was silent beyond that, realizing it was probably awkward just for him to be helping her like this, but he didn't know for certain and couldn't decipher her moods very well any more with them being more extreme and his penchant for understanding being lost.]

"Go grab a towel." [Sylar told her softly with an expression usually reserved for the best of times that they had had, minus the smile. A vulnerable appearance with a hint of introversion that only made him seem more sincere. The inmate continued cleaning up the cereal, hoping she would listen to him.]

Spam! notarrowette January 23 2011, 20:19:44 UTC

[Cissie's head popped back up from the counter when she heard his voice, her heart sinking at the insult. She didn't know how to respond, but then he was putting away the milk and beginning to clean up the cereal for her. She watched him, unsure of what to say or do until he told her to get a towel. She looked up and saw the look on his face; it made her pause. She couldn't help it--she missed him. She missed when he didn't make everything an argument, when he didn't use what he knew to try to hurt her--when he didn't try to hurt her at all.

She hesitated just a second, just watching him sadly, before sliding off the stool to do as he asked. She went into one of the downstairs bathrooms to grab a hand towel--the kitchen wasn't the type to have towels hanging off the stove. She returned to her spot at the counter and started wiping up the milk, glancing up at him.] ...Thanks.

Spam! gray_atonement January 24 2011, 02:14:51 UTC

[Sylar finished throwing away the last of the cereal as Cissie wiped up the milk. Then he took the towel from her, if she would allow it, in order to toss it in the sink to worry about later. He felt that maybe if he treated her like he imagined a little sister would be, he could handle the awkwardness between them.]

[The inmate moved to the refrigerator and pulled it open again, this time looking at what was inside.] "What do you want to eat? I'll cook."

[And he was a fine cook, even though he didn't mention it often. Though breakfast was his specialty, hence why he worked the shift on the Barge, he really could cook most things fairly well and he enjoyed doing so.]

Spam! notarrowette January 24 2011, 02:58:55 UTC

[Cissie let him take the towel from her, continuing to watch him as he moved around the kitchen. This was all just so strange, and easily the most civil and friendly he'd been around her in... maybe a month or more, barring their encounter in the infirmary--which hadn't ended well, anyway. Realizing that sobered her, but she tried to hide it. It was easier while his back was turned. She swallowed the lump in her throat and focused on his question.]

...Not cereal? [She answered, a little sheepishly.] What do we have?

Spam! gray_atonement January 24 2011, 03:24:13 UTC

[He was quiet for a moment, opening and closing the drawers in the fridge to see what all they had. His voice was still soft when he spoke again. The truth was that the killer was utterly exhausted and he wanted to get along because he was tired of fighting and tired of everything. Sylar just wanted his abilities back, though he didn't mind the house so much.] "Chicken, pork, bacon. Eggs. Vegetables. I could probably do waffles, eggs, bacon. Or chicken, potatoes, and other veggies."

[The inmate turned to glance at her and grimaced slightly as he agitated some of his bruises. After a beat, he actually realized that he was shirtless and bruised and wondered if it mattered. After a pause, he decided to ask.] "Do you.. want me to put a shirt on? Does it matter?"

Spam! notarrowette January 24 2011, 03:47:03 UTC

[She was tired too; tired of fighting, tired of lying and pretending to be someone she wasn't, tired of playing along and dealing with a body ten years too young, and just physically tired from not getting enough sleep at night. She opened her mouth to tell him that whatever he felt like making would be fine, but stopped, remembering all the times he had yelled at her for asking what he wanted. The last thing she wanted right now was another argument.] Chicken sounds good. Or eggs, if--if that's better.

[...Crap. She did it anyway. When he mentioned his shirt, she blinked at him. She had noticed he wasn't wearing one, of course, but when he mentioned it, she realized she hadn't noticed noticed. Not the way she would have in her own body. (Which was both disconcerting and a relief; those kinds of feelings right now would have been a little too awkward.) And now that she was really looking at him, all of those bruises caught her attention.] It's fine. ...Are you okay? What happened?

Spam! gray_atonement January 24 2011, 03:53:15 UTC

[Sylar pulled the chicken out along with some random vegetables and set them all on the counter. Then he began searching around for the right pan, trying to make this as quick and easy as possible so that they could both eat sooner rather than later. He appreciated her making a decision, even if she was still passive in the end, and said nothing for or against it.]

[To the latter remark, he gave her a very short glance as an acknowledgment before going back to searching. He was glad, since running upstairs sounded like it would be painful with how tired his muscles were and how much his body ached. Finally spotting the deep pan he wanted, the inmate pulled it out and then moved to turn the oven on.] "I'm fine. Lacrosse."

Spam! notarrowette January 24 2011, 04:02:05 UTC

Ow. [She winced at that. From the looks of him, his practice--or game--had certainly been rough. She hesitated and offered softly,] I had a ballet recital today. The other girls wouldn't even look at me after. And I did ballet.

Spam! gray_atonement January 24 2011, 04:13:11 UTC

[Sylar grabbed a knife from the wooden block on the counter and began cutting the various ingredients to make a cooked medley for them to enjoy. At Cissie's story, he paused and looked up at her. After a beat, a smile formed on his lips.] "They wouldn't talk to you?"

[The inmate somewhat wished he had that problem. Half the people he'd run into on campus had known who he was and he was receiving text messages or calls most of the day. Eventually, he had just put his phone on silent and started ignoring them. Then he paused, eyes on the food again.] "I didn't know you had ever done ballet."

Spam! notarrowette January 24 2011, 04:30:21 UTC

No. Apparently I screwed up. I got the silent treatment all the way home. [She paused and looked up, smiling softly in return. She admitted:] I didn't really mind.

[Cissie looked back down at her hands on the counter, taking a moment before answering. This was the kind of thing she might have wanted to talk to him about before, when things were good. Now she wasn't sure how much of what she told him would be thrown back at her later to hurt her. But she found herself answering anyway, tracing the patterns in the counter with her fingertips.] I did it for... nine years? Mom signed me up when I was five, and I stopped when I was fourteen.

[She paused again and continued in a softer tone.] She also had me in gymnastics, karate, tai kwon do and a couple other martial arts, etiquette, self-defense, acting classes, piano... And I don't know. I'm probably forgetting things.

Spam! gray_atonement January 24 2011, 05:03:10 UTC

[Sylar was impressed by the second mention, puzzled by the third, and stopped at the martial arts to look up and stare at her again. His expression remained mostly the same, though a hint more confused as his eyebrows pulled together. Without hesitation, he asked a question he knew might upset her, but his tone suggested he was entirely sincere.] "Why would you want to go back to that, to being 'normal'?"

[He tried to meet her eyes for just a split second before looking down again, setting things in the pan at random as they were cut into smaller pieces.]

Spam! notarrowette January 24 2011, 05:28:15 UTC

That was never normal. [Her reply was swift and a little tense. She was tense. The more she talked about it, the more she thought about it, especially after everything she'd been expected to play along with and do in port, the more anxious she felt. Her childhood was a sensitive subject on the best of days, with people who already knew. Explaining it was always difficult. She shifted on her chair, searching for the right words.] I don't want that. I never--I don't want this. [She gestured at herself, indicating all the activities their counterparts were expected to participate in. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the counter. It was easier ( ... )

Spam! gray_atonement January 24 2011, 05:46:43 UTC

[He was silent as she spoke, diligent in his preparation of their meal if for no other reason than to avoid looking at her. The sad truth was that he never knew those things about her. Because she'd never told him, because he'd never asked. Eventually the killer finished with the chopping and set the knife down. Moving to the sink, he let a random amount of water into the pan and then moved to slide it into the oven. She finished speaking some time before he straightened and returned to the counter. He paused there for a beat before picking up the knife and moving to set it into the sink as well ( ... )

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