WHO: Sylar and Elle
WHERE: Elle's room
WHEN: Backdated to three days after
this post (Friday-ish).
WARNINGS: Violence and death.
Elle leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. She was sitting in her desk chair, playing with her ability to pass the time until Sylar showed, shooting sparks from fingertip to fingertip. Sylar, she was convinced, could never appreciate her ability the way she did, or understand the fullness of its capabilities and how to work with its limitations the way she did. Still, she'd run out of reasons to keep it from him.
The thought of dying again didn't bother her, which maybe wasn't such a good thing. But she knew exactly how it would happen: it would hurt, and part of her would reflexively feel afraid, and then it would be over and she'd wake up in an uncomfortable infirmary bed and get lectured. The lecture would be worst part.
God, waiting around was boring. He better show up soon, or she was going out and finding something interesting to do.
[ooc: Hey Ang! Let me know if anything needs changing <3]