sylar (original) (raw)

The alley smelled like a combination of cat piss and rotting trash from the Chinese place on the other side of the brick wall. Sylar wrinkled his nose, as he crouched in front of his latest victim. The man’s eyes were wide open, terror etched for eternity on his face, his mouth hanging open in a scream that never shattered the air. Sylar had been too quick, crushing his trachea with a thought, cutting off air to his lungs and blood flow to his brain while ruining his vocal cords to silence him.

With his lower lip caught between his teeth, Sylar began cutting the guy’s skull open. The prey tried to move. Tried to breathe through the ruin of his throat, but he couldn’t get enough air. His vision was going gray, but he did manage to hiss when he felt his skin parting and blood began to trickle down his face and into his gaping mouth.

“The brain feels no pain,” Sylar told him as he grabbed a fist full of the blood matted blond hair and yanked. “Of course the cutting hurts, but you won’t have to worry about that much longer.” The serial killer leaned forward still hunkered down on his heels as he pressed his fingers into the warm spongy mass of his victim’s brain. “Now let’s see how long it takes me to find the surprise inside.”

His vulpine grin spread as his fingers found the sweet spot, the source of the special’s power—power that would now be his. Sylar didn’t need to kill to take a power. “I don’t need to kill to do this,” he told the cooling corpse after he made the adjustments to his own brain to make the power a part of him. “They taught me to do it with empathy, but seriously who has time for that? Am I supposed to make nice with everyone just to take their power? You know what happens after you do it that way? They think you want to be their friend! As if I want a bunch of losers following me around. It’s better this way.”

Sylar stood up fluidly, and held his hand out palm up as he called the moisture from the air until he had a ball of water floating above his hand. It shifted shape, reflecting the world around it like a crystal ball of jelly. He sent it flying into the wall with a splat, moisture running through the grime and graffiti. “This is a nice trick. Can’t wait to see what I can do with it.”

Current Mood: good

Sylar stood in the shadows, watching the man who wanted to be king of the world. He had power. Sylar had more. He had charisma. Sylar had more of that too when he bothered to put on the charm. But this one was weak. His shoulders were slumped. His breathing ragged as he tugged the high collar of his coat about his throat.

“Something bothering you?” the serial killer asked, his voice a thrumming purr.

“They don’t like me,” the other said. “I give them everything. I could crush them beneath my boots. I protect them from the monsters.”

“Like me.” Sylar’s face was split by a vulpine smile that showed too many teeth.

“Yes, like you. They should fear you. They should learn to love me.” The ruler sat with another frumpy sound in the chair that he tried to rule the world from.

“Why? You’re as much of a monster as I am. You’ve killed more than I. You’ve threatened them. You’ve hurt the people they love, but you want them to forgive you and thank you for the world you’ve given them.” Sylar chuckled as he stepped from the dark corner of the room to look out the large window at the sprawling city. One hundred years ago it had been a beacon in the middle of a war torn nation, but now it was shattered as well, buildings twisted and rotting from within and without.

“Yes,” the prince said. “Why can’t they forgive me and love me?”

“Why would you want them to?” Sylar didn’t understand. “You kill because you like it—just as I do. You love their fear—just as I do. You crave the destruction—just like I do. But now you want them to like you? You’re a fool.”

“I want their respect!”

“You want their blind worship!” Sylar laughed harder this time, the sound echoing in the nearly empty chamber. “I’ve watching humanity tear itself apart with no help from me in the past three hundred years, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, which apparently you’re incapable of, is that they do not forget. You started as a monster, and as far as they are concerned you always will be one. Trust me. I know how that works.”

“But you like being the monster. You love them being afraid of you!”

“And so should you.” Sylar paced toward the mockery of a throne and smirked at the man who sat their defeated, clinging to what defiance he could still muster.

“When I used you as the villain, they should have rallied to my cause.”

“That might have worked if you’d been a good guy to begin with, but you’re not. I started out better than you---not that anyone out there knows who Gabriel Gray was—but it was the hope that I could be that innocent man who just wanted to be special to someone again that kept them from killing me on the rare occasions that they caught me.”

“You can’t die.”

“That’s not my point. My point is that you’ve always been the villain. Embrace it. Wrap it around you like a fur coat. Play in the black clouds that surround you, and stop looking for a goddamn silver lining that’s not there. No one loves you, and no one ever will. Enjoy it. Hell, kill them all. Just stop whining about how sad and lonely you are, because you disgust me.”

“I should kill you.”

“You’re already tried. Didn’t take.” Sylar had a sad smile when he remembered Peter Petrelli telling him the same thing centuries ago. “Have fun wallowing in your loneliness. I’m going to see if I can find something special to kill. It’s been too long since I’ve gone dumpster diving in someone’s brain.”

Current Mood: bored

Character: Sylar and Peter
Genre: gen with a tiny bit of Slash
Author: sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1380
Rating: R - violence, gore, murder
Notes: It's been forever since I wrote a fic and let Sylar have some fun.

Peter hadn’t noticed him—of course not—he never did, but I could taste his power every time he jogged by. I was in my favorite spot in Central Park, sipping a mocha and eating a bagel while ignoring the pigeons that were surrounding me like a school of mutant sharks, with their missing and extra toes, begging me to drop a precious piece of bread for them to fight over. I licked the cream cheese from my fingers and tossed the last scrap of it to them. I could’ve broken it up, so more of them could share, but it was more fun to watch them squabble over it.

“You’re a dick, you know that,” Peter said. It wasn’t a question. I noticed that, but he was smiling. “One of them might lose an eye, Sylar.”

“It’s all fun and games, Peter until someone loses and eye, and then it’s just fun.” I didn’t remember where that quote was from, but far be it from me to miss the chance to use it.

“I gotta go to work.” He cast me a baleful look before getting up and stretching.
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Current Mood: hungry

Character: Gabriel Gray
Genre: gen
Author: sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 567
Rating: G
Prompt: Tell us about your 20 year old self.

“What are you still doing here, Gabriel?” Mr. Wilman asked as I grabbed the heavy box of generic vases from the back of his van.

“I’m helping you.” I’d spent the morning helping him move inventory for his shop from his storage unit, riding in the passenger seat of the van that always smelled of roses and wet leaves from deliveries. I’d learned how to drive in the same van years ago. I was always happy to help Mr. Wilman and the other shop owners in the neighborhood.

“You should be in college.” He let out a heavy sigh and stepped down from the rear bumper, shut the van doors and locked them. His steel gray hair was sticking up like dandelion fluff around his ears, and his face was red from the exertion. “You are too smart to end up fixing watches your whole life.”

I held onto the box of vases while he opened the back door of his shop. It smelled like flowers, and I always thought that it was how a jungle would smell. “Now you sound like my mother,” I told him as I tagged along inside. His son used to help with this, but Thomas had joined the army. He was half a world away. “I know. I should be in college, but I couldn’t go. My mother needs me.”

“Your mother.” I didn’t miss the pause he told while he tried to think of something nice to say about her. I understood. I had a hard time doing that too sometimes especially when I thought about my lack of a future. “She should’ve let you go to UCLA. She should have been proud of you. If my boy had that scholarship, I’d have had a parade.”

Thomas was lucky to graduate from high school, which he did because I tutored him in the afternoons when business was slow, which meant he got a lot of tutoring. But I didn’t mind. I liked the company, and teaching him kept my mind sharp. “I wish she had too, but she’s fragile.”

“She never recovered from your father leaving her, Gabriel.” He took the box from me and set it next to an empty shelf to unpack. “Not that I’m telling you something you don’t already know. I used to talk to Martin about you. We’d talk about our boys, and he wanted you to get out of here too.”

Then he shouldn’t have left me behind when he escaped. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from saying it out loud. “I’m doing the best that I can for her. I sell and fix enough watches to pay our rent, and that’s what’s important.”

“No, Gabriel,” he said, giving both of my shoulders a squeeze. “What’s important is your potential. Don’t forget about that, and I know I sound like her. I do. But unlike your mother, if you ever got the chance to get out of here again, I’d shove you out of the door so fast that it wouldn’t catch you on the ass when I shut it.”

“You’re so good to me.” I had to pay attention to my shoes, because if I didn’t, I’d start to cry. “But I promise, if I ever get the chance to be more than I am right now, I will take it. I’ll runaway, and I will never look back.”

Current Mood: hopeful

In 90% of my RP I break canon at Season 3: Episode 19, Shades of Gray. Up until that point I’m pretty much OK with the story, although I toss out the retcon of Elle/Gabriel from the episode Villains in most cases because it mucks up Sylar’s story too much. I’ve got years of RP based on this canon break on LJ and Twitter. It is the version of Sylar that I prefer to play unless I’m doing a Wall Verse or Five Years Gone Verse with a Peter.

In my headcanon, Sylar meets his father and goes underground for the rest of Fugitives. He does not go to Danko, seeking yet another parental figure to mess with his head. He does not pick up shapeshifting. He doesn’t kill Nathan. He doesn’t lose his mind.

Sylar finally crosses a moral line though when he kills a Priest to take his ability to heal. The guilt of that act forces him to face his demons, and he learns to control his hunger. I have always loved the closet of guilt and sin from Gabriel’s hidden room, and have tried to keep that nagging Catholic guilt as part of Sylar’s core in my RP.

That guilt makes it possible for Angela to get her claws into him again, and she manipulates him into working for (and running) the Company. I have an RP on livejournal called rp_shadesofgray that is based on this headcanon and what Angela did—What Angela Did FANFIC—that has been running for close to four years.

Character: Sylar and Future Peter
Genre: gen (for a change)
Author: sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 242
Rating: PG 13
Prompt: Shackles
Note: for fixthepast who wants this to be canon for our boys.

Pain! I grabbed my throat as the sharp spikes dug into my flesh. The taste of blood filled the back of my throat, and I dropped to the floor in a heap while my regen fought with the blood loss and tissue damage to keep me alive. I clawed at the collar, trying to break the technological terror that kept me shackled to the little shit who was laughing at me—Peter Fucking Petrelli.

The rest of the story...

Current Mood: pissed off

“Make it stop!” I couldn’t talk, so I thought my rage at him as hard as I could while I struggled. “Peter! Fucking stop it!”

“It’ll stop when you stop fighting it, Sylar.” He stood over me, watching me thrash about like a dying fish, floundering in a pool of my own blood. “But it won’t come off. It doesn’t come off until you stop being such an evil bastard.”

I growled—a sound that I was able to make. The device kept me from focusing to use my abilities. I couldn’t break the collar. I couldn’t break Peter’s neck. I couldn’t breathe! I was dying, and I was sick of dying. My knuckles hurt from pounding my fists into the floor until I got my temper under control. The blades retracted, and I gasped for breath as my throat and neck healed. I spat a gob of blood on the toe of Peter’s boots to clear my mouth.

“Oops. Sorry.” I wasn’t sorry. I never would be.

Current Mood: pissed off

Character: Sylar and Gabriel
Genre: slash
Author: sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 541
Rating: PG 13
Prompt: Kiss on the neck and Goodbye
Note: Two Ficlets for graylikeme

First Kiss:
I heard the clatter of bowls and humming coming from the kitchen when I came in. Gabe was standing at the counter with flour on his cheek and his glasses slipping down his nose while he read a recipe. He was adorable. My stomach filled with butterflies at the sight of him with his perfect hair out of place and the smudge on his face. He was always so damned neat. Apparently we weren’t capable of letting our hair down until we’d felt someone’s blood and brains on our hands.

“What are you making?” I asked as I come into the kitchen and leaned over his shoulder. There was a bright yellow package of chocolate chips, and my smile grew larger. “I love chocolate chip cookies more than almost anything, Gabe.” Except you. He smelled like vanilla, and I couldn’t stop looking at his lips when he smiled in return.

“I know.” He bumped shoulders with me, then went back to mixing the chips into the dough. “Don’t eat it raw. You’ll get worms.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I was lying. I wanted to grab a big gob of it to munch on, but not as much as I suddenly wanted him. We’d leaned on each other so much. We loved each other, but I had crossed a line along the way. I needed him. So I gave him a quick peck on the temple and then a lingering kiss on his neck. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind.

And the Last:

It was the end of time. The sky was black, and the air was stagnant. We were curled in each others’ arms, huddled on top of one of the one of the few buildings that remained somewhat intact. The rest of civilization was gone. We were alone, and after so many centuries haunting an empty world, we’d lost our sanity and regained it over and over again. There was little food left, and we’d starved to death many times only to return.

Claire had the right idea. She’d jumped into a volcano, letting the heat of the lava destroy any trace of her. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let go of my life, and I couldn’t leave Gabe alone. He’d offered. He said that we could go together, hand in hand, to our deaths. But I was afraid. I’ve always been afraid of dying—of going to hell for what I’ve done.

Now we’d been watching the sun fade, the air thin and waiting for the end for what felt like forever. Even I’d lost track of how much time had passed, but I doubted that he had. We seldom spoke anymore. We didn’t need words. We knew what we felt. We knew what each other was thinking—we always had. It didn’t matter how many powers we’d collected. It didn’t matter that we could do nearly anything. We were immortal. We were powerful. We were the last of our kind, but we had each other.

He hadn’t aged. Neither had I. I brushed my fingers through his thick dark hair and kissed Gabriel deeply. His taste was all I wanted on my lips when the end finally came. “I have always loved you,” my voice cracked from disuse. “I always will.”

Current Mood: loved

Character: Sylar and Mohinder
Genre: Gen
Author: sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 337
Rating: PG 13
Prompt: Zombie Apocalypse
Note: for mohindersuresh

I ran through the building, panting, cut, bleeding and angry. My legs were sore, and I wanted nothing more to find a clean, dry, warm place to sleep. But there wasn’t much chance of that—not anymore. There were no safe places, but hopefully there was a way to turn that around.

The building was in better shape than most. Windows were still in place, and there was occasionally a pool of bright light where the florescent bulbs still functioned along my path. I felt powerless, and it wasn’t far from the truth. I didn’t have nearly the powers that I did before. The virus had seen to that. It had also turned most of the normals on the planet into mindless, flesh-craving zombies.

“Suresh!” I screamed as I pounded on the locked doors at the end of the hall. “I know you’re in there! I traced it back to you, you son of a bitch!” I could hear shuffling behind me and a screech. My blood ran cold, and I turned around just in time to send one of the undead crashing into the far wall. My telekinesis wasn’t what it once was, or the fucking things were just that powerful, but it should have been smashed to a sack of broken bones and rotted skin.

“You can’t hide! You have to stop it!” I raised both hands and drove them into the heavy steel doors, using up the last bit of power that I had left to force them open.

“What do you want!” Mohinder screamed at me from a perch high on the wall, his mutated skin was flaking and scales reflected from beneath the curls of dried flesh. “I can’t fix it.”

“Well, then you’ll die trying.” I stumbled through the ruined lab until I was looking up at him. “My powers will regenerate. I’ll regenerate, and by the time they do, you’d best be ready to help me. If you don’t, I’ll toss you out there for your creations to rip apart.”

Current Mood: angry

My relationship with Peter is very complicated, and it changed so much between the run of the show (and through my RP).

Season One:

I wanted the little shit dead. I wanted his power because he had it so easy. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t know how to use half of what he had.

Side Note - Kirby Plaza: I went to Kirby Plaza to stop Peter from destroying New York. I was the only one who could, but of course idiot Hiro would rather stab me than let me be the hero. Fucker.

Season Two: WE NEVER SAW EACH OTHER!! Which was pretty lame since he was my nemesis. Also it’s completely unfair that Peter got the cute Irish chick, and I got Maya.

Season Three: I was a better brother to Peter than Nathan was. I saved his life over and over again. I killed Arthur for him. I’d have died for him. Want to know what hurt the most about Angela not being my mother? It was that it meant Peter wasn’t my brother.

Season Four: I did a bad, bad thing. Not that Nathan didn’t have it coming, but it hurt Peter so much. I wanted to hurt him, because he’d shit on me when I was supposed to be his brother. But I still regret it because I loved him like a brother. Peter was the most important person in the world to me, and I fucked up.

But in my defense I was crazy, and that stupid shapeshifting power really fucked me up.

During the years in Cranium du Sylar (which I think was actually Peter’s head after he first tried to break me out), I did everything I could to get him to forgive me. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t deserve his forgiveness, but it happened.

Basically it comes down to one thing: I would do anything for Peter—anything.

Current Mood: contemplative

Every time I say that, someone always brings up Molly. Think about this one fact: If I wanted Molly dead, she would have been dead. Who was going to stop me? I didn’t run off because the cops showed up. I had time to play with Jame Walker’s power before I left. I knew Molly was under the stairs. I could taste her fear. But I left her alone.

As for my attack on the FBI and LAPD, where I killed a few people who got in my way, I was there for Parkman not Molly. You don’t think that I hovered around, watching the cops when they showed up at the Walker place? Come on I’m an arrogant asshole, who loves to fuck with the cops. Of course I was watching. I knew Parkman was special.

So no, I don’t kill kids. I let Micah go too, didn’t I? Although he was almost old enough for me to kill him if I’d wanted to.

You’re now going to argue about Jackie and Claire. As far as I knew, she couldn’t die. I fucked up when I went after Jackie instead of the real girl who walked through fire. That was a mistake. Claire can’t die, so whatever I did to her to get her power doesn’t really matter. She’d get better.

Current Mood: thoughtful

I’d been hurt badly by Angela’s lies about being my mother. I wanted her to pay for it by taking away the thing that she loved most. Nathan was the most important person in the world for Angela and for Peter (somewhat important for Claire). So when Peter rushed off to save the girl who can’t die *rolls eyes*, leaving me alone with Nathan, what choice did I have?

There he was. The man who could fly and nothing else left on his own with me—the Big Bad. It was like Peter wrapped him up like a shiny Christmas present, and for what? Wouldn’t it have been better to have Nathan fly off to save the President? Especially since I couldn’t fly…

But no, my only competition goes off leaving me with Big Brother, who he loved no matter what. Peter forgave Nathan EVERYTHING, and he never once gave me a chance. He didn’t even thank me when I saved him from Arthur TWICE. Of course I had to kill Nathan to punish Peter.

Nathan had to die because Peter was a shitty brother to me when we were supposed to be family.

Current Mood: satisfied

Originally posted by sylar at Opinion on the Heroes Reboot

It’s already been done. The show was called Alphas, and it was awesome. It was also canceled by SyFy which is part of NBC Universal that owned Heroes.

It’s not Heroes without Peter, Sylar, and HRG. I’ve got no interest in it whatsoever. I didn’t watch NBC for years because I was pissed about Heroes. I didn’t start watching until this year for Revolution.

So no thanks. Go yank someone else’s chain and heart strings. You broke mine already when you canceled Heroes and again when you canceled Alphas.

Articles about the possible reboot:

TVLine
The Mary Sue
IO9

Adam Monroe Sylar Tag

I spread the files that I took from Bennet’s house on the motel bed. The bright red files, featured the worst of the worse—the ones who were obviously stupid enough to get caught. I noticed there was no file with either of my names on them. The fact that the files were on paper in a cardboard box told me two things: The Company was run by dinosaurs with no concept of computers, and the second, it was a trap. Noah left those files there, hoping that someday I’d pop by to take Claire’s power, and he’d leave me a trail of breadcrumbs to a lovely 10 by 10 with my name on it. Well that wasn’t going to happen.

There were better ways to get what I wanted. Why go after the Level 5 zoo when there was plenty of weaker prey for me to hunt. It’d worked for me the first time around. It’d work the second, and as much as I bitched about starting over, all the killing would be fun.

One of the more interesting files in the pile belonged to a man named, Adam Monroe. Adam was like Claire—and me now—he couldn’t die. But he’d vanished after some plot he’d put together where he’d used the Italian Eagle Scout as his puppet. Want to do something truly evil? Don’t have idiots like Peter Petrelli as your minion. You need someone with a brain, and that person was me. I might not need Adam’s ability, but I could use his knowledge of the Company. To pick his brain—I chuckled—I had to find him.

The report said that Hiro ported him away to parts unknown. Hiro was on my shit list, and I was certain he was on Adam’s. Together we could have our revenge on the annoying little shit and the Company. There was no way that I could get Hiro to tell me where he’d put him. Hell, in my current state, I couldn’t fight Hiro at all. But his little friend, who was normal, would be easy pickings. All I had to do was get Ando alone, and he’d tell me everything I wanted to know.

***
I left Ando in the bathroom stall. His fingers, toes, legs and ribs were broken. I’d taken my time, using my telekinesis until he’d told me all I wanted know about Hiro Nakamura and where he’d trapped Adam. Hiro was a big mouth, and Ando was a pussy. It’d been easy to get what I wanted.

“Tell Hiro that Sylar says ‘hi’, and I’ll be back for him soon enough.” He was whimpering when I washed the blood from my hands, and I smiled at him from the mirror. Then I shut the blood flow off to Ando’s brain. He’d be out for days, and by then I’d have Adam.

***
It took me awhile to find the right spot. If I’d still had my super hearing, I’d have been able to find him faster. But all I could go by was the buzzing that always hit me when a special was near. I didn’t bother to be neat about it when I used telekinesis to move the earth from the grave and then ripped the lid off of the coffin.

“Adam Monroe, whatever are you doing in such a terrible place.” I grinned down at him and offered him my hand. “My name is Sylar.”

Current Mood: devious
Current Mood: disappointed

Usually I really enjoyed the flashback episodes. Company Man and Six Months Ago were epic. But Villains undid some major points in Sylar’s canon. I could easily see Gabriel being suicidal after murdering Brian. But the introduction of Elle into his past mucked things up. We had 2 seasons of Chandra pushing his buttons that drove him over the edge, and then they write in Elle delivering Trevor like a cheap pizza…. It was stupid. It wasn’t necessary for the story either. It was cringeworthy and it cheapened Sylar’s character development.

This episode also neutered Linderman by making Arthur the Big Bad all along. Please, Arthur wasn’t smart enough to control Linderman AND Angela. I don’t care what powers he had.

So other than Meredith, who had a pretty cool back story this episode failed.