Application for Claude Rains (Heroes)

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

((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 center of the room, eyes warily searching the corners before he approached the table.

He was, in a word, scruffy. Worn clothes, shaggy beard and hair, the all over hunched look of someone who didn't sleep in a clean bed every night. Homeless, one might even say. A bum.

Pulling a soft pretzel out of his pocket, he began to absently munch on it while he looked around. "What kind of place is this?" His North London accent was thick and his eyebrow twitched up in an expression that might have been amusement. Or could have just as easily been disgust. It was hard to tell.



1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?

Now that question was out of the ordinary. Pausing, looking around one last time, Claude shrugged and slid into the seat, popping the last of the pretzel into his mouth and brushing off his hands.

"Right, okay, cheese." The quill helpfully jotted down his words and Claude let out a snort. "Nice trick." But he looked around again, nervous, before hunching over the application, almost as if to present a smaller target. "Um, well, can't say that I'm much of a connoisseur. Good basket of chips and a beer's all I usually need, you know? Nice steak, whatever I can nick. But if I had to choose, I guess I'd say cheddar of some kind. Versatile, yeah? Lots of things you can do with it. Tastes good on sandwiches."

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?

For a moment, Claude remained absolutely still. Then his teeth bared slightly and his eyes tracked the quill, waiting on the parchment. The Company had some odd tricks in its sleeve, but this was weird and random, even for them. He hadn't been followed. He was sure of it. And, so far as he knew, the Company didn't have a presence here. Still, that question made something in him freeze up and it was, with effort, that he relaxed enough to grit out, "Neither. Why bother? Done nothing to me, have they? Live and let live's my motto. Don't make waves. They go about their business and I can keep to mine."

3. What time is it where you are?

"'Bout quarter past three." A faint smile crossed his face as he checked a shiny new Rolax on his wrist. "Unless that fat guy sweating in his suit at the airport didn't kept his watch wound."

4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.

"Please." Claude snorted loudly and leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs and resting his feet on the desk. Still cautious, gaze still jumping around the room, he nonetheless was amused by the question. "Think I'm going to waste time on harassment? Let me tell you something, friend. People suck. Every last bleeding one of them. Girl, bloke, something in between - they're all going to hold you back, keep you on a leash, and then shove you ass over kettle when they get the chance. Better to go it alone. At least then you're not going to wind up bleeding, with your ass in a sling because you trusted someone you shouldn't. Harassment is more trouble than it's worth."

5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.

Rolling his eyes, Claude glared down at the parchment. Who the hell had come up with these questions? Some simpering little poodle with a stick of crazy up its ass, probably. Finally huffing out a sigh, Claude answered, "The Coach and Horses." And anyone who didn't get that reference was an idiot.

B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.

"Oh, for the love of the mother and her crown!" Standing up in violent temper, Claude scowed down at the paper. "People. People. All you go on about, isn't it? Well, let me tell you - there's no mythology in the world that can erase the simple truth that everyone is just out for themselves. In the end, you're going to get screwed and screwed royal. Got thin soup and that's your supper, nothing you can do. So what does it matter who this Harry ends up with? He's going to get strung on a leash and patted on the head and held down no matter what, and that's the truth. Only way to be free is to get rid of all the people what are clogging up your life. Bah." Collapsing back down into the chair, disgusted, Claude waved his hand. "Better if Harry just disappeared. That's your answer."

C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.

"Never said I was smart, friend." Claude had found an apple somewhere in his coat and was now chewing away. "And I don't give a flying pig about your papers. Burn 'em, fill 'em out, throw 'em away. Makes me no mind."

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

Studying the question for a long moment, a variety of half-hidden emotions crossed Claude's eyes. But, in the end, he just shrugged. "I am. I'm no one. I'm Claude Rains. Just ignore me and I'll fade away."

6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.

Oh, bloody freaking hell. Digging in his pockets with a scowl, Claude slammed down a wad of cash, a few watches, some wallets, another pretzel, half a dozen ink pens, a scarf, and some bird seed in a plastic baggy. "There. Take what you want. But don't bother me with complaining about them; I have what I have and no more."

Thus stated, he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, waiting for judgment.

Comments

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

"You deserved that," Claude repeated incredulous. "You DESERVED it? You bleeding shot me, you arrogant bastard, and don't say it was your job." Anger tipping over into fury, pulse pounding in his ears, Claude grabbed Noah by his shirt and shoved the man against the wall. "YOU WERE MY PARTNER," he roared, his face mere inches from Noah's, eyes blazing and hands shaking with barely controlled violence. "Hypocritical to the last, eh, Bennet? How is Claire? Doing well? Shove her off any bridges like a good company man?"

Disgusted, he gave Noah one last shove before releasing him. "You deserve more than that, friend, make no mistake."

[familyman-hrg.livejournal.com]

Noah made no move to fight back. "I don't have any excuse for what I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong." There. The three hardest words to say in the English language and he had said them. He expected more violence to follow, of course, but he had said it and meant it.

He glared daggers at the mention of Claire. "I did what I had to do for her. I hid her for as long as I could, but in the end... you were right. I was wrong." He adjusted his rumpled shirt after Claude let him down--seriously, he was going to be bruised for days. Lot of pent up anger there, not that Noah could blame him.

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

"Oh, so, now you're thinking of her." Claude rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to keep himself from flying at Noah again. "Good to know that you have lines drawn someplace in that sand castle you call a conscious."

He took a step forward, both hands curling into fists so tight his knuckles blanched pale. "Damn straight you were wrong, Bennet. But so was I, so I guess we were a pretty match in that. I trusted you. Thought you were better. So thank you, rookie, of curing me of that belief. Everyone's out for themselves, yeah? Even the goddamn paper salesman."

[familyman-hrg.livejournal.com]

He curled his hands into fists but kept his mouth shut. He wanted to say that he'd been thinking of Claire from the start, that everything he'd done was to keep his family safe, but that wasn't true, was it? It had been Claude's unceremonious firing that had triggered the start of that change in him. "Even the most selfish bastard on Earth can change given the right motivation," he settled for saying. "I should probably thank you for that."

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

"Oh, you can thank me, can you?" Claude snorted a laugh, lip curling up in disgust. "Did the vivisections finally get to you? Get tired of the lobotomies and treating people like lab rats? Or was it just your precious Claire? Whole world can go to hell so long as your fake family can stay together, yeah?"

Pointing at him, Claude shouted, "You have NO IDEA, friend. The things that are being done. What it's like to be hunted. You're a coward, Bennet, and nothing more."

[familyman-hrg.livejournal.com]

Truthfully, that hadn't really factored into his decision to "retire." Sure, he hadn't liked some of the measures that the Company had taken and was just fine to leave the unpleasant aspects to others so that he didn't have to actually acknowledge what was done, but in certain cases SYLAR SYLAR SYLAR they had their use. It was really only when Claire had been threatened that he had found deep issue with what was going on. And while he was content to admit that, like hell if he was going to let Claude insult his family.

"They are not my 'fake' family. Say all you want about me, but you leave them out of this." He clenched his hands into fiss, willing himself not to punch right back at Claude for that.

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

"Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Like the Company left her firestarter mommy out of it. Tell me, Noah, does little Claire know that we watched her mum die?" Claude was just being mean, now, looking to push Bennet harder. He wanted a reaction, he wanted to hurt the other man. "Does she know that she was a door prize for arson? That she was placed with you so that you could turn her back in like some prize pig to be slaughtered?"

Claude sneered, "And how about your lovely wife, friend? How's she doing? Can she even remember her own name at this point? Oh, yeah, quite the family man. And you've made sure they were well out of it, haven't you?"

[familyman-hrg.livejournal.com]

The rational, cold part of Noah's mind (rather a large portion of it, really) noted that having lived as a bum in the company of pigeons and human sponges Claude didn't know that Claire's firestarter mommy was in fact still alive and living in Texas. That part also noted that Claude was more or less completely right in his argument, which seemed to be that Noah was a cold-hearted selfish bastard.

The remaining part did not take kindly to having his wife and daughter but not Lyle, who didn't count brought up in that manner. In an instant, Noah returned the punch to the face that Claude had so kindly given him a few minutes ago.

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

The punch knocked Claude back and he instinctively went invisible as he fell, rolling to the side. Because there was nothing like a few bullets to the chest to make you lose faith in a person.

Standing, rubbing his jaw, Claude moved quickly behind Bennet, glowering as he became visible again. "Touched a nerve, have I? Going to chuck me over any more bridges? Or is that honor just reserved for partners and close friends?"

Eyes hard with seven years of bitterness swept over Noah. "What are you doing here? Tracking me down? Because if the Company thinks they're going to get their hands on me again, they've another thing coming." He paused, glower deepening. "And stay away from Peter Petrelli. He doesn't need your unique brand of help, friend, any more than he needs another hole in his thick head. Stay well away from us both."

[familyman-hrg.livejournal.com]

Noah whirled around at the voice, trying very very hard to not swing out again. He gave a sardonic laugh at Claude's high opinion of himself at the moment. "Right, because it's all about you. I couldn't possibly have any other use of my time than bothering you. I'm here because I need a new way to protect Claire. Thompson found out about her. I sent her away, and then I had to run too. So now I'm virtually out of options, and it seemed they'd unlikely that they'd look for me here. And as for Peter Petrelli, he saved Claire's life. He's a big boy, Claude, he doesn't need you making his decisions for him."

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

"Oh ho," Claude laughed, looking darkly delighted. "So, finally the hand that feeds has smacked you across the face. What, no special treatment for your years of loyalty? How depressing, mate, to find out your life's work is nothing more than bullying and intimidation rounded out with a nice bit of torture for balance."

There might have been some vague pride under there, somewhere, when Bennet said what Peter had done. But all he did was snort, rolling his eyes and folding his arms across his chest, deceptively at ease. "Peter could hardly find his way out of a paper bag with a map and a flashlight. What he needs is someone telling him how things are, what the truth is, before someone like you comes along and ruins his life. Or gives him a few scars and a hole in his memory as a souvenir." Claude bared his teeth in a smile. "So do us both a favor, Noah, and don't give him the same courtesy you give your little girl. One less smirch on your soul that way, yeah?"

[familyman-hrg.livejournal.com]

What Noah wanted to say was something along the lines of being shot at didn't give Claude the right to be a complete and utter dick. Except that it sort of did considering that Noah himself had been the one to do the shooting, and he hated it when his arguments didn't hold water.

What he said was, "Things aren't how they used to be, and it seems everyone but you knows that. Why don't you do Peter a favor and keep from poisoning that well?" And he stormed off, voting be damned.

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

Some emotion crossed Claude's face as Noah walked away. One might have called it longing, or regret, or even just plain sadness, if Claude would have admitted to such things. But in a moment it was gone, and Claude simply scowled at the empty air.

"Go on, then. Walk away. Wash your hands of me. Wouldn't be the first time, would it? At least this time there isn't blood on them."

Then he flickered into nothing. Being invisible had its perks sometimes.