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Post by Gabriel Gray on Sept 25, 2009 18:16:21 GMT -5
 ( SHUSH GIRL! SHUT YOUR LIPS! )
do the helen keller and talk with your hips
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -The magnifying color that the blue silk of electricity provided was truly magical. How each and every single bond of physical chemistry combined together to create such a fantastically brilliant light that had the power to truly destroy a person inside and out—fry them alive with just one single push of his finger. It was rather nice—especially at times like these, when he sat alone in his four poster bed. His frame was shirtless as always—a picture of his mother hanging loosely on the heavily bloodied wall next to his bed. It was amusing how he put himself through the same ritual every night. Coming back to his far off room, in which he had painted himself with the blood of others—the smell was instantaneously atrocious—and the scenery was a horror film at his wake. But no matter how much it would disgust most people, it didn’t disgust him—this was his whole reason for his existence, the strive for his hunger. Gabriel lived each and every day—for the moment—the smattered blood stains were nothing but a deep moving symbolism of what he was. The task that was set in store—the ticking of each second as it passed—the droplets of blood smattering themselves against the cool marble ground—the faint trace of screams and pleas ricocheting off of his ears—before everything came to a small standstill, and the pearl of their specialty was on his palm—he was holding it, the bloody existence for which he lived. The dream he so wished to fulfill.
Every night, he found himself in this room—with nothing but a picture of his long lost mother and the stains of blood that messily craved out the same which he had branded himself so long ago. Sylar. Such power was embedded in that name, with just one stroke of that name—made people of his kind cower in fear—he was a god among the horizon and as every single dawn passed, he was more invincible as he could be. With the guide of his long dead mother—the sweet whispering voices in his head—and the sweet sound of the continuous ticking that was always present on the back of his head—he stood up. Precisely nine minutes and sixteen and a quarter seconds had passed since he had been in this room, secluded as always, with nothing to look forward to, nothing to hold him back from just drowning himself in the vast unparelleling sins that he had committed. His tall frame casting a large shadow upon the little light in the room, he slowly walked out—but not before kissing the portrait of his mother—the only reason for his existence—his maker.
The scent of mold and grime excluded off of him—and as always—the little ritual in his private room had him squirming with that magical hunger once again. It had been perhaps a week or so—since he had lifted his index finger and cut that neatly pristine slice across the forehead of a living being—and stripped them of their power and life. And tonight was just one of those nights in which he wanted to bury his hands in the crevices of one’s brain—and allow himself to just melt away into the seduction of the night as he stepped one step closer to the dream and destiny of his existence. Gabriel had been tracking a fellow person for the past two days—and needless to say, this power had intrigued more than he would like. The ability to drink in and exclude all kinds of acids and chemicals, needless to say—that the hunger that ticked away and counted down most of his life was more than ready to unite itself with it. But for now, he needed a shower—before he set off to find the acid man, just perhaps he would be acidless after Gabriel was done with him.
A crooked grin crossing his face, he peeled off his jeans before stepping into his small shower. The rush of the ice cold water played around his skin, igniting the sweet tresses of goosebumbs. There were so many thoughts presenting themselves so beautifully against his mind—one silhouetted picture at a time, floating along his head like a parody of a story replaying itself over and over again. It took him about twenty minutes to get out of the shower—dressing himself in a pair of gray slacks, a white shirt, and a leather jacket to over his lean frame. He was unshaven as usual—his polite crooked grin firmly in place as he took a quick look in the mirror before allowing himself to exit his apartment. The warm air of the dying evening hit him slowly, stroking the hairs on his face as he walked into the night. The man he had been following for the past two days had often found himself in a local Irish bar nearby, getting himself drunk off his arse—and hitting on women that wouldn’t give him the time of day. It gave Gabriel that much more pleasure to take the life of those bastards that wasted their lives away—if they themselves didn’t care about their own lives—why should he?
Finding the Irish bar—on a back Corner of Broadway and 34th avenue—there were many people scattered about—some much younger than him, while others were his age. Leaving a polite smile lingering on his face, he slowly entered the bar—a snake waiting to feast upon his prey. His clear cool eyes took the time to scan the bar—and the acidman was no where in plain sight. Just perhaps he was running late today—Gabriel did always have a bad habit for being more than punctual. Taking in the dark scenery—and the figure of a curvaceous figure redhead walking by—Gabriel sat himself at the far end of the bar—just to make sure he had a clear eye at the entrance. He couldn’t let a night like this go to waste, especially considering the special lilaceous circumstances that it brought. A soft sigh escaping his lips, Gabriel stared wordlessly at the door, sipping a cool Budwiser at his wake, as he waited for his tiny little prey to make entry. He was starving tonight.
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TAG !? claire
WORD COUNT ?! 1065
LOCATION !? an irish bar in queens.
WEARING !? this
LYRICS !? don't trust me;; 30H!3
CREDITS !? <33 @ CAUTION 2.0
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Post by Claire Bennet on Sept 26, 2009 12:27:01 GMT -5
 Everything was working smoothly until Claire struted through the front door of her house and got bombarded with questions from her Dad. Shifting her hand through her golden locks of hair, she only walked faster to really no where particular. Right about now all she could use was a familar face to rant to and perhaps just be able to talk to like a normal human being rather than being hounded by her father. Who once again locked her out of the house and wouldn't give her a good reason to why. All she knew he was just plotting for her to be swept away by the Company to be tested like all the rest of the people that had special abilities.
As she walked at a faster pace, trying not to let the cool air affect her. Claire's mind rewinded to try and pick up the pieces to give her a sign of whether or not she was being watched or if there was something going on that she didn't know about. School was dull and boring as always, even Biology managed to fascinate her since they were discussing how lizards could regenerate there limbs which just made her smirk lightly. She always managed to go out and test the limits of her body, knowing full well that nothing could kill her. Even that one time, when she became impaled with a tree branch and managed to 'die' after the wood was removed her cells regenerated and she awoke to quite a scare.
After school, she went to her normal cheerleading practice and thankfully only managed to hurt herself once when she was doing a somesaut off the pyramid. Where she managed to once again break her tibia, but luckly this time around she managed to play it off as a twisted ankle which every one just laughed and walked away. Giving her plenty of time to fix her leg. After showering and changing into jeans and black tank top, and placing her hair into a quick ponytail she walked briskly out of the building heading towards the parking lot to pick up her Toyota Corolla and head home. When she arrived home that was when all the drama unfolded, first the door was locked, when she called her Dad he stated not to worry there was reason, which wasn't given as always, and just to head to a friends house. The peculair thing was, his car was in the garage and when the phone rang she could faintly hear it, which just made her angry.
Now she found herself waking through Queens along Broadway, trying to find some place that her father definatly wouldn't approve of. Letting the light filter through her blue eyes she eyed all the bars and clubs that where filled with people yet nothing appealed to her. Finally an irish bar at the corner of 34th avenue and Broadway, seemed to call her name. With a slow smile playing upon her lips, she entered the bar noting all the people around yet it wasn't to crowded. Running her hand along the bar, she looked around for a familar face and perhaps if she saw someone that she knew they would get her some alcohol for she definatly could use a cold harsh drink right about now. Besides in this atmosphere who knew what could unfold in front of her blue eyes, she could just work her magic and get lucky at getting a drink, which just made her smile. Stopping where she stood, her eyes wandered through the bar taking in all the faces. [/blockquote][/color] |
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Post by Gabriel Gray on Sept 26, 2009 21:04:28 GMT -5
( SHUSH GIRL! SHUT YOUR LIPS! )
do the helen keller and talk with your hips
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -The baleful presence that always lingered inside the very dark pits of his mind were still present, drowning him in a sea of obliviousness. There was nothing passing through his head besides the slow burning of the rich hunger that was ticking away with the beats of his heart. His fists were laid flat against the cool wooden table—clenching and unclenching themselves slowly—waiting for whatever he was looking for to come walking through that door. The wait was probably the most difficult part of tonight, for every single one of his cells were itching for the moment his telekinetic skill would rip open the middle of his forehead and take what belonged to him. Just the thought of the sweet nectar blood pouring out of the man’s open wound send a shiver down his spine as he sipped on his beer. Gabriel had never been much of a drinker—and to be quite honest—drinking didn’t affect him anymore, especially not after his last run in with little Miss. Claire Bennett.
One power—one amazingly powerful power that he had been seeking non-stop had been her. The cell regenerator, the woman who could never die or grow old after reaching a certain age; they could virtually survive anything physically—and that was one precious gift he had craved for so long. He could still remember the way he ripped through her forehead—her screams of horror ricocheting off of the walls in her house. There had been no one about—no Noah to save her, no mother to die or her—and no boyfriend to gallantly fight her battles for her. There was only him and his hunger—and her fear against him, naturally there was no match. Gabriel could close his eyes and still remember how it felt to be inside her—his finger digging into the most private part of her soul—taking the vein in which he needed—feeling that important vein of Claire’s wiggling along his tongue as he forced it down his throat.
Sitting back against the rickety chair, he pushed his feet back a little, balancing the chair on its legs before pulling back one more. The air of restlessness was pouring in and out of his veins and no matter how hard he tried to think of something else—only the carnal need of blood edged him on. He could actually feel himself becoming aroused, the large member that was tucked safely away between his legs was beginning to beat—maybe it was the random thoughts of one little cheerleader—but whatever it was, Gabriel ignored any signs of arousal. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the entrance, waiting for the beady blue eyed man to walk into his heaven of hell that Gabriel had prepared for him. It was amusing that he thought so much and moved so little. His mind was always ticking a slow monogamous tune, singing about the deepest darkest desires of his heart—and preying upon the low and weak.
God was what he called himself—now and before. There wasn’t a human, special or otherwise that was as strong as him—but he needed more, he wanted more, he fucking craved more. Gabriel was a god walking on this earth, he was better than the rest in every single way possible—and one day there will come a tomorrow in which he was the great dominator of all. That one day would come soon—he would pet his mother’s grave on it. Tilting his head to the side, he picked up his slowly stirring drink once more and pilled the entity of his mouth with it. Feeling the bland taste of beer run down his throat, he again focused on the door—Gabriel could practically feel his eyes burning holes at the entry of the bar waiting for the blasted man to come skidding forward. As he was watching—finally the door opened once again—the swing was pounding through his ears—sometimes he fucking hated his hearing. Every single pin drop was an explosion waiting to happen. One would think he would get used to it by now—but at least—he was able to block most of it out, if he concentrated deeply on one thing. Gabriel figured it was one of those rare slippages of his mind.
He held his breath, waiting to see if it was the dark haired head of his victim, but alas no, it seemed as if the whores were truly making themselves present tonight, for another blond had walked herself into the bar. Gabriel just grit his teeth and was about to turn back to his beer when the most peculiar scent waved through his nostrils making him look up once more. A heavy brow raised on its own accord as he took in the appearance of the girl—Gabriel almost had to stop the grin forming against the corner of his mouth as he spotted her. Could she truly be here, all alone in a bar full of drunk leery men? For one moment he allowed himself to just watch her from where he was sitting, just so he could drink in her appearance as she walked toward a nearby stool and took a seat. The ever present hunger that was always ticking away at the back of his head now had a new destination—Claire Bennett. It wasn’t wise to roam around the mean streets of Queens, specially this late at night. Daddy’s little girl needed to control that little temper of hers—for—there were leechers out there who would quite easily take advantage of a beautiful young girl—fresh out of puberty. Gabriel had always liked them young.
The animated ticking in his mind working on his own accord he closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink and melt in to the ticking of his brain—listening closely to the way the sound echoed around his head edging him on into the direction of one Claire Bennett. It seemed to take him just seconds to figure out how he would approach her—the most direct and most sufficient route would be to play the role of someone she cared about—someone who cared for her—and it didn’t take Gabriel such a long time to put two and two together and figured out who he wanted to be for tonight. Hearing the creaking noise of the chair pushing itself back as he stood in his full height—he walked closer to the petite blonde, a grin plastered across his face as he felt his sharp features fading away into the night, he felt himself growing shorter—his shoulders widening, his features blurring and the eyes of his soul changing. By the time he came within speaking distance he was the exact replica of a man he detested with every single fiber of her being—but for right now, Gabriel wouldn’t mind playing a game of Lies and Truths, for it was all to get inside the mind and body of the one and only Claire Bennett.
Sliding himself onto a stool next to her—he breathed in her floral scent, feeling that beat fastening against his cock. Propping his elbow upon the marble table he looked at her direction, feigning an ill disguised gasp of surprise and an easy grin. If he hadn’t been that much of an actor—just maybe she could have figured him out—but for now, he would see just how far she could push the buttons. Smiling as wide as he could he starred into her blue eyes, feeling the lust pouring in and out of his cells. “Hello Claire,” his voice was soft and inviting for once—in a completely different tone that sounded nothing like him. Shaking the momentarily feel of indemnity crisis, he stared at her—not bothering to shield her from his impenetrable gaze. “What brings you to a place such as this? Daddy bothering you again?” There was a tone of mock sarcasm edging at the corner of his voice, he wondered whether or not she could detect it--- and smiling ever so pleasantly, Gabriel waited for her to answer—maybe this wouldn’t be a wasted night after all.
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TAG !? claire
WORD COUNT ?! 1636
LOCATION !? an irish bar in queens.
WEARING !? this
LYRICS !? song cry - jay z
CREDITS !? <33 @ CAUTION 2.0
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