Really? That was either incredibly arrogant or over-the-top cryptic or indicating his desire to slip into a spandex uniform and run about being someone's arch-nemesis. Or an inside joke Lily just did not get. In any case, she simply continued to jot notes, muttering, "Good thing I'm not afraid of the bloody dark then, yeah?"
Lily had some ideas about who the 'real' Sylar was. Just glimpses. Impressions. Images. But one thing she was good at was taking scattered pieces and making a whole. It might not be the entirety - Merlin knows she'd been fooled before, horribly so - but it, in most cases, was enough to go on with.
Every time Sylar spoke, the more he brooded and blustered, the picture was becoming clearer. He desperately needed to be the center of attention. Most people, when confronted with the cold wrath Lily had subjected Sylar to, would be glad when her eyes turned elsewhere. Sylar almost seemed to resent that fact; as if he was too sodding important to have her focus anywhere else. That was...interesting.
The only sounds for quite some time were the scratch of quill and the rustle of parchment filling out the silence. Lily fixed herself a cuppa, sipping it slowly as her head was bent over her work. She felt not a lick of sympathy for Sylar. She'd done similar tasks in detentions whilst she'd been in school as well. Nothing particularly horrific (those - like cleaning up Thestral dung - seemed to be saved for people who went out of their way to earn the detentions, time and time again; like Sirius and James), but boring and unpleasant enough to be a deterrent. Which was...the whole point, really.
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Date: 2007-07-06 04:39 pm (UTC)Really? That was either incredibly arrogant or over-the-top cryptic or indicating his desire to slip into a spandex uniform and run about being someone's arch-nemesis. Or an inside joke Lily just did not get. In any case, she simply continued to jot notes, muttering, "Good thing I'm not afraid of the bloody dark then, yeah?"
Lily had some ideas about who the 'real' Sylar was. Just glimpses. Impressions. Images. But one thing she was good at was taking scattered pieces and making a whole. It might not be the entirety - Merlin knows she'd been fooled before, horribly so - but it, in most cases, was enough to go on with.
Every time Sylar spoke, the more he brooded and blustered, the picture was becoming clearer. He desperately needed to be the center of attention. Most people, when confronted with the cold wrath Lily had subjected Sylar to, would be glad when her eyes turned elsewhere. Sylar almost seemed to resent that fact; as if he was too sodding important to have her focus anywhere else. That was...interesting.
The only sounds for quite some time were the scratch of quill and the rustle of parchment filling out the silence. Lily fixed herself a cuppa, sipping it slowly as her head was bent over her work. She felt not a lick of sympathy for Sylar. She'd done similar tasks in detentions whilst she'd been in school as well. Nothing particularly horrific (those - like cleaning up Thestral dung - seemed to be saved for people who went out of their way to earn the detentions, time and time again; like Sirius and James), but boring and unpleasant enough to be a deterrent. Which was...the whole point, really.