((Done with permission from Peter- and Noah-muns. Claude is taken from after the end of the first chapter of Heroes (ie first season) and will have spoilers for that.))The Sorting Room appeared to be empty. For a few long moments the application and the quill poised, waiting, seemingly for no one. Then, with a flicker, a man appeared in the
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Her arms become uncrossed as she looks at him again rather hard. She doesn't want to judge, because she's become aware that's her most sanctimonious trait and Mel wants to, you know. Be liked.
'Not everyone's out for themselves,' she says eventually, because the angel in her won't let that rest just yet. 'I don't think...'
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((Reposted for typo >>;))
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Mel clamps down on her lip to keep from a gasp escaping as she touches that wound. How many times did Sky say she was out for number one? Mel remembers when she thought she'd touched Sky, that the dripping tap technique worked. 'You're magic,' she remembers saying, and Sky shot up like she'd heard.
And then she slunk away with her boyfriend, who would be a demon if he were any closer to Hell. Sky had been burned enough with her Mum abandoning her; when Mel did, she completely shut herself off from anyone else.
'Okay, so I won't deny everybody looks out for themselves,' Mel says, trying to let the thoughts of Jax, Sky and Karms float away. 'But there are people who are completely selfless, and people who make a living out of helping others. What about them, do they not get a look-in?'
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So, yes, Peter had been walking up from the tent village to lurk in the Sorting Room at random hours, wanting to catch Claude when he finally arrived. The drawing hadn't specified a time or date; for all he knew, the guy might be showing up next year.
He'd just arrived as soon as Claude did, in a rather amusing coincidence of time - Peter had spent the whole application lurking at the back of the room, unseen. And though he was glad to see Claude, to know that he was still alive, his happiness was a short-term thing.
Features darkening in anger, Peter wasn't going to give Claude a chance to avoid this. So he quickly stormed over, scowling heavily, and threw a solid punch at Claude's jaw. Served him right.
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He had questions. Oh, he had many questions. Why Claude was here, how he'd gotten here, what did he think he was doing looking so casual about sneaking into a castle, whose watch was that, and which family did he rip off to steal food. If it was one thing that Peter had tried not to learn in his 'lessons' with Claude, it was his proclivity for stealing.
"I did screw up!" Peter shouted, flexing his fingers which were already healing from the punch. He ignored everything else Claude said in favor of the last sentence. "I exploded, alright? If Nathan hadn't been there, I would have taken out New York! I don't call that 'not screwing up ( ... )
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Jaw working for a second, he gave Peter a look of extreme disgust. "Oh, so, you nearly wiping us all out is my fault, now, is it? My fault you couldn't control yourself? Listen to me, friend, and listen well. Until you stop looking out at the world as something that you can change and then blaming it for your failures, you are going to wind up, again and again, face down in the mud. Do you not get it yet? Did I teach you nothing that got through your thick skull? Anyone dog can do tricks for ( ... )
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"Have you ever considered writing a book on human relations?" House piped up sarcastically, taking a lollipop out of mouth just long enough to talk. Critically, he eyed Claude, mentally ticking through a list of diseases easily picked up by living on the streets, and what possible symptoms he might have based on appearance.
Pity. He looked obscenely healthy for a bum. "You'd have a lot of free time to write it, too," House gestured at Claude with his lollipop, "Your general twitching when you first arrived indicates that you're on the run from something, which is boring because I'd bet you $100 they're not here. Either that, or you've got some sort of motor neuron disease causing muscular twitches, and that would be interesting."
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"So, you're some kind of doctor, then." Wasn't a question and Claude studied House with narrowed eyes. "Get into it because you wanted to be God or because you don't think there is one?"
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"Both, eventually," House said blandly, eyeing the lollipop in Claude's hand with irritation. Bastard. Now he was short one lollipop. "I wanted to save lives," House feigned a choked up voice, wiping a tear from his eye. "But then I discovered that God isn't real and it's just random fate. Oh, the humanity!"
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Huh. Debating philosophy with someone who didn't have huge puppy eyes and a saving people complex (combined with an inability to see reality and crippling self-esteem issues). Claude had almost forgotten he could have a conversation with someone that didn't involve beating with sticks.
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And then a moment's pause, before he hit the point he was obviously looking for in this conversation. "Invisibility." He tilted his head, curiously. "Interesting, I'd like to see how that one works."
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Claude had worked a long time for the Company before he'd been chucked aside. He knew when to trust his gut. And his gut was telling him that Sylar was the type of bloke he'd have been sent in to bag and tag. Playing the gruff homeless guy was second nature to him; if that didn't work, Claude didn't doubt his ability to extradite himself from the situation. He'd survived a lot worse that one scrawny little punk.
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"Thanks for that, pal. The world's the top, we're the bottoms, and only isolation is the safety word. Probably could have accomplished the same spin with, I dunno, a sports metaphor, but no. You had to freak us all out." Ron shook his head, slightly exasperated, but otherwise alright. One thing was for sure, he was back in Hogwarts
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Weird spot, this.
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"So, you been on a subway before? I swear, those places are more bizarre than this one. It's actually a bit worse, because you're packed together with the weird ones."
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"Lived in one for a while," he nodded. "Not so bad, really, once you got used to the smell. Nice corner, bit of a blanket, maybe a hat stuck out for change. Better than the park."
Claude took his whole 'homeless fugitive' role seriously.
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