intuitivelyapt: ([noah] how it all plays out.)
[personal profile] intuitivelyapt


anoblevamp: this is a stupid question
anoblevamp: but are you alright?
elevenfiftythree: you're right. that was a stupid question
anoblevamp: i'm going to come over, i'm worried about you
elevenfiftythree:: ... thanks
elevenfiftythree: i'm not ... being sarcastic or anything. thanks
anoblevamp: you're welcome, eh? chin up
elevenfiftythree: why did he say that?
anoblevamp: just, give me a tic. we'll talk about this proper




spike: [knocking on sylar's door]

sylar: [he's in a motel or something idek. but he lets spike into his ... motel life of squalor]  hey.

spike: [oh hey it's a motel he can just walk in. cool.] 'lo/

sylar: ... do you want to see the cat? [there's not a hell of a lot else to do and he's not going to open with ~talking about his feelings~, okay]

spike: Oh, yeah. I do actually. Miss Moppet was it? [crouches down, making clucking noises to draw the kitten out of hiding.]

sylar: Yeah. [it comes out from under the bed to inspect spike and see who the fuck this guy is.] ... I wasn't actually going to kill it.

spike: Know you weren't. [reaches out his fingers to let her sniff them]

sylar: [and she does. and decides spike's fingers can double as food.] Why did he /say/ that? I mean. I know why he said that. Because he hates me and he's a spineless coward. But I don't understand ... I didn't do anything to him. Not that time.

spike: [Spike hisses in minor pain before scooping the kitten up and petting it as he talks. Which is pretty funny because he's cross-legged on the floor and Sylar's... not.] He said it because he's bloody jealous, that's what. Why do you care so much what he says?

sylar: [It's okay, Miss Moppet decides he tastes weird and doesn't try it again. She's content to just sit there and purr now. Sylar, on the other hand, is going to take a seat on the bed and prepare for melodramatic monologuing. ] I don't know. He gets under my skin, I guess. He knows too much.I didn't even know he knew half of those things. He wasn't supposed to.

spike: Lot of people know a lot of things, Sylar. And you're not too hard to read up about, sorry to say. I'm not either you know. It's downright unnervin'. But if you want to be better,  I mean really... I can help you.

sylar: How?

spike: Been through it all, haven't I? I know what it's like to go from bad to good. What it takes, what it does to you. [a halfsmile and a shrug, a break to nuzzle the kitty okay.] Dunno. Helps to have ..someone there.

sylar: What, so you want to be my sponsor or something? [He gets up to get some carrots off the desk. And eat them. Don't worry they weren't used in his ... bizarre experiments.]

spike: Hey, toss me one. ...And yeah? Is that such a bad thing? Being sponsored by a vampire is appropriate, don't you think?

sylar: [He obliges and tosses Spike a carrot.] I don't know if there /is/ an appropriate in this situation. But, hey. I already told you that I think we're alike. There could be worse things. Worse people.

spike: [Considers taking a hand off the small furry creature and decides to catch the carrot in his mouth instead.] There are much worse people than us, it's true. Worse people than you, by far.

sylar: Golly, Spike. When you put it like that it sounds so reassuring. [Miss Moppet tries to squirm away and continue her exploration of the room.]

spike: [Spike sighs and takes pity on her, letting her loose.] You know what I mean. Bloody ringing endorsement from me.

sylar: Yeah, I know what you mean. [Time to work on eating the hell out of this carrot.] I don't know how to act when people do nice things for me, okay? Am I supposed to just say thank you? Are we gonna work on trust falls now?

spike: [snorts] I am not catching you, Sylar. No. Don't need any of that. Just... want to help. I'm a white hat, it's what I do.

sylar: [deadpan] Can you help me kill Sulu?

spike: ...No. Sorry. [his face falls a little]

sylar: I wasn't -- [shiiiiit] It was a joke. Or something. I didn't think you'd say yes.

sylar: I do kind of want to kill him, though.

spike: Know you do. And he's a right bastard, but it's urges like that you have to work on controllin'.

spike: Not all of us can get a chip in our heads.

sylar: Yeah, yeah. I heard the story. The abridged version. [He gets up to get a cup of the coffee he made with the shitty little motel coffeemaker.] I've got a chip of my own, anyway. Metaphorically. It's all talk. Whenever I try to kill someone anymore, I freeze up. Can't do it. Ever since I picked up empathy, I guess. Maybe before.

spike: ...We really do lead the same bloody life, Sylar. Willow told you about that then, I take it? Weren't my best moments, but.. they led to some of 'em if you catch me.

sylar: Yeah, I know. Willow gave me the run-down and it sounded like my life if I were a vampire who dressed like Billy Idol.

spike: He dressed like me. Anyway, that's not the point. ..Seems like you're with me, so far. Somehow I expected this conversation to be a little tougher.

sylar: Should I be doing something to make it tougher?

spike: No.

sylar: Okay then. What /should/ I be doing?

spike: First off, tell me your plans with the bit-- Claire, I mean. What's up with this kitten nonsense?

sylar: I made a joke about getting her a Valentine's Day present, and she said if I sent her something, she'd burn it and send it back. I /was/ just going to say something about sending her something alive, but then I decided to take the next step and actually do it. I was trying to earn some points with her, okay?

spike: Okay. Why?

spike: ...are you in love with Claire?

sylar: No. I mean, I was, but not so much anymore. It's not about that anymore. I don't think. Maybe I do still like her. Whatever, it's not important. I just want her to help me. She's supposed to help me.

spike: [not even fazed] Help you with what?

sylar: Make connections. Fix what's broken. Whatever's making me ... not me.

spike: How can she help you do that? She's just a girl. ..Well, not just.

sylar: I don't know! That's what it said. That's what my ability said. It was supposed to point me to what I needed, and it pointed at her.

spike: But.. you don't know what she can do to help. And she doesn't know. And she also hates you.

spike: Are you sure we're not just alternates of each other?

sylar: The more we talk, the more I wonder that myself.

sylar: So, what? Was Buffy your Claire?

spike: Yeah. Buffy was my a lot of things. [looks a bit far off] But she did help me in the end. Maybe you've got a shot.

sylar: Maybe, but I still think it's going to be a long one. Long enough for me to try bribing her with kittens.

spike: I'm not against kitten-bribing. Remind me to rope you into kitten poker sometime. Can I smoke in here?

sylar: Kitten poker? [he make a seriously?? face but moves on.] Uh. Yeah. I guess.

spike: [Spike lights up, shrugging a bit.] Yeah, kitten poker. Brought Buffy once, but she let all the kitties go. She's no fun, that girl. [A beat as he realizes he's gotten pretty far from the point now.] What I'm sayin' is, if a vampire can win over a Slayer, you can sure as hell win over an indestructible girl.

sylar: [a long, doubtful, look] You /have/ talked to Claire, right?

spike: I talk to her, yeah. Buffy's a lot more difficult to crack than Claire, sorry to say.

sylar: I find it hard to believe that anyone is more difficult than Claire. I really, really do.

spike: Well, believe, mate. It's not a competition though. Don't have Buffy anymore, do I? Have to start from scratch.

sylar: What happened with her? [refrain from asking if she ran away with a chaos demon refrain from asking if she ran away with a chaos demon ... ]

spike: [looks down, then back up at Sylar.] Don't know when it started happening, but I woke up one day, and everything had changed. I loved Buffy Summers and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Fought it for a long time, I did. Buffy fought me too. I still dunno... if she ever really loved me, but I gave her everything. And this Buffy, on the Community-- she's from ten bloody years ago and I don't know what to do about that. She's not the right Buffy, but every Buffy - is Buffy. It's very confusing, as you can see.

sylar: [Sylar watches Spike monologue with a very intent expression, like he's mulling something over.] This is ridiculous. Is there anything we don't have in common? Anything at all? Besides the physical, menial stuff. Other than that, it's all the same. And it's starting to freak me out, honestly. Do you know how hard it is to freak me out?

spike: Was thinking the same, mate. Pretty freaked myself, and I lived on the Hellmouth. Do live in Hell. Just hope your tale ends better than mine.

sylar: [yeah well he's not touching that anymore.] What number are you thinking of right now?

spike: Twelve and a half.

sylar: Thirteen. ... Come on, that's still close enough to be creepy.

spike: We're the creepy sort, I agree.

sylar: What's your favorite color?

spike: Red.

sylar: Me, too.

spike: Just eerie.

sylar: Exactly. Got any other experiments we can try?

spike: Don't think we need any more experiments, eh? Not a fan of 'em myself.

sylar: Well, I'm done talking about my feelings. Dunno what else there is to do. [shrug] You could see what's on TV, or help me feed Miss Moppet carrots.

spike: Oh, that's it then. You're done? Well, could always do for a spot of telly. [he gets up, going to retrieve the remote before sprawling over the bed.] Housewives of New Jersey is on.

sylar: [He retrieves the cat from under the bed and sprawls out next to Spike, letting Miss Moppet curl up on his chest. There is nothing gay about this, okay. Nothing at all.] Okay, here's where the differences begin. I'm not watching that crap.

spike: Atlanta's on the other channel. [Come on, Sylar, he's joking. Lighten up/]

sylar: I'd take Jersey Shore over Housewives.

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Sylar

August 2014

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