The Black Parade
Great. Another new person. It's not that he minds the current influx of people into their not-so-little enclave, it's just that there are more potentials for disaster. Luke's been keeping to himself as much as possible, trying not to pay attention to the 'reformed' Sylar sleeping in one of the nicer caravan trailers. The man doesn't recognize him, not even after Luke had a bit of a one-sided screaming match with him a few days after he arrived. Sylar is nothing more than a cow. He pouts and apologizes and looks away. That man that Luke wanted so badly to be like a few very, very long months ago is dead now and replaced with a doppelgänger.
Well that suits him just fine, really. He doesn't have any competition for biggest badass anymore (and no, he doesn't count Edgar as competition for anything with the way he sucks up to Lydia and Samuel, thank you).
Luke's been at the Carnival for a few months now. His costume consists of a white and red striped vest, red pants, and a frown when Samuel takes him aside. As usual for the human microwave, Luke's latched onto the older and supposedly wiser man. He's started painting his nails like Samuel and he's gotten a piercing too. Emulating Samuel takes the edge off of being himself -- something he really and truly hates to be. "What d'ya mean I have to share my trailer?"
"Jus' for a little while. Jus' until we settle down and can find a more permanent space for him." Samuel puts a hand to Luke's shoulder. "An' I trust you."
Trust is one of those catnip words and Luke finds himself nodding. He looks back up at Samuel, but he doesn't manage a smile. "Why can't he just stay with Lydia?"
He doesn't get an answer unless a wry smile counts so Luke just nods and grabs a new pouch of popcorn kernels before he heads back through camp towards his trailer. He sees the lost looking, formerly amazing man in the window as he approaches and sighs, banging open the door. "That's my fucking bed, blondy. Off."
Well that suits him just fine, really. He doesn't have any competition for biggest badass anymore (and no, he doesn't count Edgar as competition for anything with the way he sucks up to Lydia and Samuel, thank you).
Luke's been at the Carnival for a few months now. His costume consists of a white and red striped vest, red pants, and a frown when Samuel takes him aside. As usual for the human microwave, Luke's latched onto the older and supposedly wiser man. He's started painting his nails like Samuel and he's gotten a piercing too. Emulating Samuel takes the edge off of being himself -- something he really and truly hates to be. "What d'ya mean I have to share my trailer?"
"Jus' for a little while. Jus' until we settle down and can find a more permanent space for him." Samuel puts a hand to Luke's shoulder. "An' I trust you."
Trust is one of those catnip words and Luke finds himself nodding. He looks back up at Samuel, but he doesn't manage a smile. "Why can't he just stay with Lydia?"
He doesn't get an answer unless a wry smile counts so Luke just nods and grabs a new pouch of popcorn kernels before he heads back through camp towards his trailer. He sees the lost looking, formerly amazing man in the window as he approaches and sighs, banging open the door. "That's my fucking bed, blondy. Off."