(no subject)
Who: Sylar, OPEN! (multiple threads).. Ten; Serena, Claire;
Where: Level 0
When/What: Ten puts Sylar in Level 0 for killing Shego; this is in the few days following
Warnings: None yet
It wasn't unexpected, ending up here. That's what happened when you killed people. Still, that unbearable silence was already weighing on Sylar's mind. Sometimes he wondered if the new ability that would come in time was worth the painful seeming years of pain. The sense of loss that tore at his heart when his abilities were completely stripped away from him caused a depression that nothing else could compare to. It felt as if the world were empty and nothing that could be said or done would return any joy, except his eventual release. It was only that hope that kept him still, serene. Waiting.
The killer sat silently in the center of the bed, staring out at the space between the bars. Waiting. He knew his warden would come. Perhaps others. Last time it had only been Prefect who could help him endure; this time he suspected that Prefect wouldn't make an appearance. Apathy reigned supreme in the killer's mind. Sarcasm, sadism. So long as he didn't descend into anger, his facade wouldn't crumble.
And so he waited, calm, for the seconds to pass and the time to fade away into escape. Freedom. A life again.
Where: Level 0
When/What: Ten puts Sylar in Level 0 for killing Shego; this is in the few days following
Warnings: None yet
It wasn't unexpected, ending up here. That's what happened when you killed people. Still, that unbearable silence was already weighing on Sylar's mind. Sometimes he wondered if the new ability that would come in time was worth the painful seeming years of pain. The sense of loss that tore at his heart when his abilities were completely stripped away from him caused a depression that nothing else could compare to. It felt as if the world were empty and nothing that could be said or done would return any joy, except his eventual release. It was only that hope that kept him still, serene. Waiting.
The killer sat silently in the center of the bed, staring out at the space between the bars. Waiting. He knew his warden would come. Perhaps others. Last time it had only been Prefect who could help him endure; this time he suspected that Prefect wouldn't make an appearance. Apathy reigned supreme in the killer's mind. Sarcasm, sadism. So long as he didn't descend into anger, his facade wouldn't crumble.
And so he waited, calm, for the seconds to pass and the time to fade away into escape. Freedom. A life again.