Howler to Sylar

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

After treating Susan, Lily felt it her duty, as a Professor, to take care of a little matter. A school owl was sent out, then, posthaste.



Mr. Sylar ~

It has come to my attention that you have felt the need to RIP OPEN OTHER STUDENT'S HEADS IN ORDER TO ATTACK THEIR BRAINS.

THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOUR. YOU WILL CEASE AND DESIST ANY AND ALL BRAIN-SEEKING ACTIVITIES IMMEDIATELY.

DO NOT DOUBT THAT YOUR STAY HERE WILL BE UNPLEASANT IF YOU INSIST ON CONTINUING IN THIS MANNER. IT IS NOT POLITE TO ATTEMPT TO STEAL YOUR PEERS' BRAINS. IF YOU ARE LACKING IN BRAINS, YOURSELF, THIS IS NOT THE WAY TO GO ABOUT PROCURING SOME OF YOUR OWN.

AS A CONSEQUENCE OF YOUR ACTIONS, I AM TAKING FIFTY POINTS FROM BITCHIWITCH AND ASSIGNING YOU A WEEK OF DETENTIONS.

Arrive in my office at six pm, sharp. I will give you your assignment at that time.

~ Professor Evans
Defense Against the Dark Arts

Comments

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

Who was he really? Sylar stared back to Lily for a few long seconds, but his expression was neither searching nor prying. Because of all questions. Who was he? Was this a high school guidance counselor?

Really, his stare would have just appeared dumbstruck, had he been stupid enough to let such an emotion show in his eyes. It came across more... well, creepy and stalker-ish, kind of his default as of late. He was... he wasn't Gabriel Gray. He hadn't thought of himself as Gabriel for months - not even when he'd visited his mother again - only because Gabriel was just an embarrassment. Not that he was a different entity from Gabriel - no, that would be crazy - but... evolved. Gabriel 2.0, in a way. Better. He wasn't the watchmaker he always used to identify with. He wasn't just Sylar, this cold, heartless serial killer that everybody else in the world seemed to be chalking him up to.

"I'm the Boogeyman," was all he murmured in return to Lily, more for himself than anything.

If only New York could see him now. Sylar? The bomb? No, he was the office assistant. His eyes darted from his hands to Lily, narrowing back at the woman with that same kind of look in his eyes. And so she dumped him. Like the mangy dog with the fleas that the family no longer desires. "As you wish, professor," he commented lightly, picking at a paper on top of the stack. He could also do without a repeat of that damned hex. That was annoying at best, and he had a personal vendetta against the person who had created it.

Filing. ...Papers.

As if he thought he could stoop no lower.

And best yet, it wasn't his powers that could help him now.

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

'I'm the Boogeyman'.

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.

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

Not that it mattered how lowly she spoke her words, at any rate. Lily's mutter sent Sylar's eyes flickering back up towards her, narrowed in that same sort of morbid curiosity that he couldn't help but exhibit with her. Not afraid of the dark. Not afraid of him. For the first time, he noticed her heart rate, the simplistic lub-dup pattern that was barely a blip on anybody else's ear drum. It was surprisingly even. She wasn't spooked. It had been a long time since he'd encountered someone who wasn't afraid of him.

It fascinated him.

He might have frowned upon the filing, and turned his chin up at the sight of the stuff, but damn if his obsessive compulsive nature didn't kick in almost instantaneously. This was the man, after all, who'd meticulously kept his apartment in the same, tidy position, for years. Plastic wrap on the chairs. Something like organizing almost became therapeutic. And it didn't take long for him to have the pile strewn out into categories - twenty-five, specifically, seeing as there were very little people with 'X' at the start of their surname.

Heh. Sorting Hospital Wing records. If only Mohinder Suresh, Noah Bennet, anybody, really, could see him now.