( Gabriel watches Hank throughout, studying him as much as the older man studied the environment. He could practically see the cobwebs clearing out darkened corners, settled dust clearing off tools that might've gone a bit rusty. He follows the older man's gaze, beginning to see the reality as he illustrated.
He was tempted to paint the future for himself, to see just how accurate Hank's story would be. This he resists as he realizes, partway through Hank's audio book version of 'This Is Your Life', that he doesn't want to know. The reality proclaimed is enough. What are the chances he'd run into "Rachel" again after tonight? Slim to none, if he were the betting sort.
After Hank's story concludes, Sylar actually grins. He won't applaud him, as that'd draw in too much attention, but he does incline his head forward in a slight bow. )
More than what I wanted, Lieutenant. You were flawless. But you saw exactly what I needed you to see. These people have no escape. They're like mice running on a wheel. They may stop to grab a drink- ( His gaze shifts, just for a half-second, towards the collection of bottles on Hank's side of the table. ) -or some other vice, but ultimately? They run their routines like good little drones, never thinking for themselves or breaking free.
( He tosses the final piece of nugget into the air and catches it with a snap of his sharp white teeth. With another shift gesture, he retrieves a clicky pen from his pocket. )
However, there are some routines we must all abide by, isn't there? Certain... natural urges for our own survival.
( Sylar finishes writing, ducks his head down, and blows on the thin napkin so it sails over next to Hank's own napkin. On it would be the address of his motel and room number. )
Just in case the universe doesn't see fit for our phones to mis-align once again, that's where I'm staying for the next week. Just in case you want to talk or break out from your own routine, hm?
( The words are innocent enough, but in his dark eyes, there's something of a challenge within. He licks at a few stray crumbs from his index finger and thumb. )
no subject
He was tempted to paint the future for himself, to see just how accurate Hank's story would be. This he resists as he realizes, partway through Hank's audio book version of 'This Is Your Life', that he doesn't want to know. The reality proclaimed is enough. What are the chances he'd run into "Rachel" again after tonight? Slim to none, if he were the betting sort.
After Hank's story concludes, Sylar actually grins. He won't applaud him, as that'd draw in too much attention, but he does incline his head forward in a slight bow. )
More than what I wanted, Lieutenant. You were flawless. But you saw exactly what I needed you to see. These people have no escape. They're like mice running on a wheel. They may stop to grab a drink- ( His gaze shifts, just for a half-second, towards the collection of bottles on Hank's side of the table. ) -or some other vice, but ultimately? They run their routines like good little drones, never thinking for themselves or breaking free.
( He tosses the final piece of nugget into the air and catches it with a snap of his sharp white teeth. With another shift gesture, he retrieves a clicky pen from his pocket. )
However, there are some routines we must all abide by, isn't there? Certain... natural urges for our own survival.
( Sylar finishes writing, ducks his head down, and blows on the thin napkin so it sails over next to Hank's own napkin. On it would be the address of his motel and room number. )
Just in case the universe doesn't see fit for our phones to mis-align once again, that's where I'm staying for the next week. Just in case you want to talk or break out from your own routine, hm?
( The words are innocent enough, but in his dark eyes, there's something of a challenge within. He licks at a few stray crumbs from his index finger and thumb. )