Application for Claude Rains (Heroes)

[invisibleclaude]

((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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[totallyluminous]

'I can do that too,' says the girl in a rather small, quiet voice. 'And I don't fade away.'

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...'

[invisibleclaude]

Oh, great. Some chippy going to bleed on about how everyone's got goodness and light and sod all just bursting from their insides. "Look, girlie, let me tell you one thing clear. Every last man, woman, and child's got one thing and one thing only on their minds. And that's themselves. At the end of it, that's what everyone will look after." He poked his chest with one finger. "Myself included. No shame in watching your own back; you're the only one who'll be doin' it."

((Reposted for typo >>;))

[totallyluminous]

God, he sounds like Sky.

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?'

[invisibleclaude]

"Name one." Claude looked almost amused by this. He leaned back, arms across his chest like the world's most homeless professor about to impart wisdom. "Go on. Name one person who fits that little pie in the sky category."

[likeabadpenny]

It had come as a surprise when Peter sat down to draw a few days ago, and had ended up drawing Claude in the Sorting Room. Of all the people he'd expected to see, Claude was the least likely, considering that this was a place full of people and Claude tended to stay away from that.

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.

[invisibleclaude]

One second he was sitting in his chair, enjoying a bit of an apple and contemplating just forgetting this whole stupid idea and disappearing again. The next he was being attacked. He barely had time to react before Peter had clocked him one, sending him to the ground holding his jaw

[likeabadpenny]

God, there went the dog metaphors again. Peter would say he missed them, but he'd be lying if he said anything like that - he'd gotten used to talking to people without being compared to a puppy every five minutes. Claude would never change, would he?

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

[invisibleclaude]

Like a thundercloud, Claude's face darkened and he leaned in with a scowl. "First of all, Petrelli, don't ever think that I'm anything more than a selfish bastard who will run at the first sign of trouble. I have no delusions of grandeur or saving anything. As I've said from the beginning, people suck. That is the long and the short of it and the sooner you realize that no one is going to offer their neck for yours without something in it for them, the sooner you'll stop this bleeding heart shit and actually be able to do something."

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

[canes_can_kill]

Ah, a man after his own heart.

"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."

[invisibleclaude]

"It's the motor neuron one," Claude replied blandly. "Can't stop twitching. Dead annoying, really." With the deftness of someone long accustomed to stealing, one moment Claude was empty handed the next he was unwrapping a lollipop. Red. His favorite!

"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?"

[canes_can_kill]

How House wished that Claude was actually serious. Having someone around with a seriously hilarious brain disease would be funny. He could poke the brain damaged guy whenever he got bored and watch him twitch.

"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!"

[invisibleclaude]

Smirking a little, Claude leaned back against the wall. This bloke was all right. First person he'd talked to in this place that hadn't made him wish Peter'd gone nuclear. "Rather have it be random fate, myself, then think there's some being up there getting his jollies off a crap shoot."

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.

[mmm_brainz]

"Actually, yes, the watch is wound correctly," Sylar randomly offered, in a kind of voice that clearly was not approving of Claude's sense of fashion. Layers of... moldy hobo clothes. He didn't want to think of what kind of anything this guy had been rolling around in. At least it couldn't have been as bad as those sewers, but, God. "Surprising," he added, lightly, raising both eyebrows at the other man. "Most people don't."

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."

[invisibleclaude]

"So would I, friend," Claude said, not shifting an inch from his spot leaning back in the chair, arms folded. "But invisibility's a myth. For story books and bad movie remakes. Got an inherent ability to fade into the background, though." He tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially. "It's all in posture. And wearing earth tones, they really blend in well."

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.

[mmm_brainz]

Sylar's mouth turned upwards into a bit of a smirk, eyebrows jumping in a knowing manner. "Yes, of course, a myth. That whole concept of powers, right?" He let his eyes flicker around the room momentarily, as if he was contemplating the matter. "Mind-reading... flying." And let his gaze land back onto Claude, with a shrug. "Radiation manipulation." Nearly making all of New York go 'boom' in one big go.

[invisibleclaude]

"Only the mentally insane jump off of buildings, thinking they can fly," Claude agreed dryly. Watching Sylar with boredom and irritation, as if the man was wasting time he could be spending doing other things, he tipped his chair back further on two legs. Not a flicker of the sense that Claude was analyzing him; all his thoughts were in Japanese, of course, as he'd been taught in the Company, but now Claude was trying to figure out just how powerful of a person he was dealing with. "Can't say as I see the point of wanting to manipulate radiation. Unless you're hoping to put some nuclear plant out of business. Or get kickbacks from an oncologist. Then again, most of the stories are bleeding pointless, really, so maybe it's a metaphor for sexual impotence. Who knows?"

[dungbombsrule]

"Oh, nice." Ron blanched at Claude's answer for 5B. Sometimes his travels were a blessing, other times they were a curse. For instance, before he would just assume that this guy was just talking about Harry being a dog or something. Now, Ron had the thought of his childhood best friend being his brothers' gimp. Not a thing a bloke wanted to wake up to.

"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

[invisibleclaude]

Claude stared at the redhead for a moment, blinking. "Have you fallen," he asked, "and hit your head? Or do you just enjoy walking up to random people and speaking gibberish? Hells on fire, man, can't just go on about things like that in public! This isn't the subway!"

Weird spot, this.

[dungbombsrule]

Ron rolled his eyes, and pointed to the question in question. "Harry, tied down and petted like a dog?" The redhead frowned a bit. "That's what I was talking about. Just... euck." The freckled young man was happy to change the subject.

"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."

[invisibleclaude]

Obviously Ron did not get the finer points of Claude's analogy. Sadly he didn't feel much like explaining it. His teaching methods were beyond reproach.

"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.