Okay, Pyth, fine. You win. Enjoy. :P
Gabriel Gray conducted all of his life through certain... neccessary masks.
Now he is used as one by the man who used to be him.
Mending little watches, polishing up other people's tired old trinkets, is no longer satisfying even in the small and pedestrian ways which he used to accept. But it's still neccessary. So many things are, if he is to continue down this new and exciting path and not sit and stagnate any more. He has to keep Chandra's acceptance, Chandra's trust, and that requires a mask.
It's a mask that takes up more suffocating hours than he should like.
He can't concentrate on something so infuriatingly small, both in physical size and in importance. Sylar's tea mug scra-aa-apes across the grain of his desk, and judders into his impatient hand.
Now he is used as one by the man who used to be him.
Mending little watches, polishing up other people's tired old trinkets, is no longer satisfying even in the small and pedestrian ways which he used to accept. But it's still neccessary. So many things are, if he is to continue down this new and exciting path and not sit and stagnate any more. He has to keep Chandra's acceptance, Chandra's trust, and that requires a mask.
It's a mask that takes up more suffocating hours than he should like.
He can't concentrate on something so infuriatingly small, both in physical size and in importance. Sylar's tea mug scra-aa-apes across the grain of his desk, and judders into his impatient hand.