dreaming;;;

[makes_you_tick]

This is the City, but you're not where you had been. You're now standing somewhere in between the Buildings 10 and 11, and the City itself seems utterly empty.

There's a lack of light, as well. The odd street lamp blinks on and off in the distance, but it's not something your eyes can count on. As a result, everything is grey and black.

The ticking is louder here. No longer just inside your head, it echoes through the streets. It permeates everything, sending the occasional thought into sharp focus.

Down one road, there's something wet. A close-by lamp blinks on for a moment, and that spot shines red.

[ooc: I may be a little slow, but I'm definitely backtagging this weekend. :3 My favorite curse is here! Feel free to have anyone wander in. This is...mostly a normal dream for Sylar, since pretty much all of them are nightmares. Be aware that it could get awfully gory and dark from here on out.]

Comments

use this chance to turn things around

[cuffyoutwice.livejournal.com]

[A fleeting thought, "call for backup," but she ignores it in favor of pulling out her side arm and clicking on the flashlight attached. Move slow, don't get distracted by the blood. Look for the body, hope for a heartbeat...]

Hello? If you're out there and need assistance-- this is Chief Beckett! Can you speak?


[ooc: I couldn't resist, but I'm slowish too so don't worry about taking your time with me especially ^^]

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[coffeenspeed.livejournal.com]

[Anthony has a bad feeling about this. He doesn't remember how he got here and why he doesn't have his phone or Network device on him. The flickering lights freak him out a bit, his heart beating too fast for comfort. He can't help himself and he walks towards the red spot.

He really does have a bad feeling about this]

trapped between two lungs ][

[the-alice.livejournal.com]

The talent of recognizing a dream for exactly that lost to her since discovering he one dream was always a truth, Alice does not know what to make of this, but she reminds herself that it isn't worthwhile to panic when nothing actually bad has happened.

Modest boot heels click with an unnatural loudness against the street, outdone only by the ticking that she grits her teeth and nerve against.

Surely this is a curse. Best not to let fear get the best of her ahead of time. But she folds her arms tightly across her chest, hands tucked into the crooks, her light blue dress as immaculate as it was upon arriving at that her engagement party what seems ages ago.

"Nothing to fear," she insists to herself softly, and treads onward with a quiet care, focusing on that stubbornness when the ticking escalates and blows everything out of focus, hanging onto it until it comes down again.

use this chance to turn things around

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

There's no response. As she nears the blood, it's possible to tell that along with the ticking is a dripping noise, perfectly timed. It's making the puddle grow larger, bit by bit, and appears to be coming from above. Looking up, there's a trail of dripping blood down the nearby building- apparently it's all coming from one window.

[cold_dry_pieces]

Brian steps in from somewhere else, flicking his wrist as if to shake something off his hand. Whatever it is, it's been left behind; and he looks around with some surprise after noticing. A faint frown flickers over his lips, the expression suppressed nearly as quickly as it forms. He's confused, but fairly calm.

After a moment's consideration, he heads towards the puddle of what he can only assume is blood. Curiosity nearly always wins out. His footsteps fall unconsciously into the rhythm of the ticking.

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

As he approaches the blood (because it becomes apparent that's all it could be), a sound other than the ticking becomes apparent. Coughing. Even it's oddly in rhythm, starting and stopping with every other tick. Eventually, it stops altogether. It sounded like it was down that nearby alleyway...

trapped between two lungs ][

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

"Nothing, really?" replies Sylar, who is standing directly behind her. His arms are crossed and there's a smirk on his face. Despite the way his eyes shine in the light, however, they seem utterly blank. "Do you really believe that, or are you hoping that saying it makes it true?"

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[coffeenspeed.livejournal.com]

Coughing. That makes him forget about the very bad feeling in his stomach and run towards the sound. Somebody might need help and even though Anthony isn't a hero, he was raised to offer help whenever possible.

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

As soon as he reaches the blood (and of course it's blood, what else could it be?), something shines in his eye. It's coming from down the street, some sort of reflection in a shop window or a mirror. Either way, it just makes everything else harder to see.

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

About ten feet away from the alley and suddenly Sylar's voice bursts through the silence. He's in the alley, and clearly not the one coughing.

"-but you lied again, so let me think...mm. Fifth metatarsal?" There's a crunching noise and a woman's scream. It dies down quickly into a whimper. "Want to give that answer another try, Faith?"

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[coffeenspeed.livejournal.com]

Anthony's blood runs cold. No, he has to be mistaken. Despite his better judgement, or maybe because his has a survival instinct of a squirrel, Anthony doesn't run away. Instead, he goes towards the sceaming and Gabriel's voice.

"Gabriel!" he yells before he can think about what he's doing.

in the web of dizzy leaves

[adamantined]

Claire knows this curse, but like most dreams it's almost impossible to get a solid grip on reality to comprehend that fact, everything slipping away into the context of the dream. It seems almost fitting that she start out here, with the ticking. The same sound is a constant presence in the dreams that she has, whether during these curses or without their help, and though the ticking is more immediately identifiable as just that, as ticking, it still pulses with the same beat she's used to.

Here, her head hurts: a dull, simmering pain behind her eyes, like something is trying to focus but refuses to tune right. She rubs the heel of her hand against her eyebrow and squints into the shadows, just as the sodium flare from the streetlamp lights up the blood splatter down the road.

It's like a breadcrumb trail. She can't not follow it.

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

They both look toward Anthony when he yells. In nearly the same movement, Sylar slams Faith back into the wall to hold her there and keep her from attacking him while his back's turned. She coughs again, wincing but splitting blood out of her mouth like it was nothing.

Sylar himself has wide eyes and steps away from Faith like he didn't just do all of that. "Anthony?"

in the web of dizzy leaves

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

As she approaches the blood, the light flickers on to show her that it's dripping from somewhere. The drips are opposite the ticking, providing a convenient tock for the clock's tick. It's impossible to tell where it's coming from- some place far too high to see.

Laughter, bitter and manic, suddenly echoes out into the streets from above. It's Peter Petrelli's voice, most likely coming from the nearest building.

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[coffeenspeed.livejournal.com]

Anthony's gaze shifts from Gabriel to Faith, taking in the damage inflicted to the woman, before coming back to his friend. Anthony's face is as expressive as usual so the shock mixed with fear he's feeling is easy to pick up on.

Gabriel can probably hear the sharp intake of breath that could easily turn into a scream, but Anthony manages to control himself. No, there has to be an explanation.

"Hey..." he says quietly and his gaze involontarily goes back to Faith. She looks vaguely familiar...

in the web of dizzy leaves

[adamantined]

The laughter strikes her at first, as familiar as the ticking and then some. She'd recognize Peter's laughing anywhere, even when and if it's twisted into the unfamiliar angles and imprecise lines the way that it is now. It chills her down to the marrow, but Claire doesn't shiver, let's the alien sound ground her instead. For as much as the laughter catches her, pulls at some invisible line connecting Peter's spine and her sternum, tugging them in the same direction and alerting either to the other's stupid decisions and impossible mistakes, there's a rational part of her that still recognizes that Peter is gone. He's left. Almost a month, now, and there's no way he could be back without telling her first, in some way.

And this isn't it.

She goes anyway, letting that invisible string pull at Peter's spine, keeping him aware of her stupid decisions and impossible mistakes. Some of the blood from up high splatters onto her shoulder, staining her dark jacket, and catches in her hair, just another dye job that's become customary over the years. On some unclear level, Claire rationalizes that the point of this dream is to play the game, and so she presses forward, steps out of the flickering streetlight and tries the door of the nearest building. Her shoulder rams hard against the frame as she turns the knob, rubbing her eyes as she crosses the threshold, pausing in the door frame and waiting.

"What's next?" she asks, and if it really is Peter - and even if it's not - she'll get an answer.

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

Sylar frowned and looked back over to Faith, who did her level best to glare at him. It's fairly clear she's about to say something, but then her mouth shuts on its own accord.

"It can't be helped," Sylar says, clearly unhappy but resigned to the situation. "You were bound to see eventually. Might as well get it over with." He turns back toward Faith, letting her slide down the wall once more. She whimpers and crumples, hunching over when her feet the concrete. "You'd probably be best off running away," he adds, glancing back at Anthony over his shoulder. "Of course, that's what she did, too."

"If you're gonna get on with this, do it," Faith croaks from the wall, trying to put on as much of a front as she can manage right now.

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[coffeenspeed.livejournal.com]

Survival instinct of a squirrel. Instead of running away, Anthony takes two steps towards Gabriel, his hand extended as if he wanted to pull Gabriel away from Faith, even though he isn't touching his friend.

"Gabriel, no!" he hesitates before taking another step. "Please, don't hurt her... It doesn't have to be like this..."

use this chance to turn things around

[cuffyoutwice.livejournal.com]

She decides to check out the building the blood is dripping from, but Beckett doesn't remember entering or climbing the stairs. She just finds herself in a hallway, long and dark. Toward the end, she's sure she sees a shadow move. Or maybe that's just her imagination.

Regardless, Beckett moves toward it, wishing now that Ryan or Esposito were here to flank her. No, that's wrong. It's Hidaka and Winchester she needs, she knows it. Her back pressed against the adjacent wall, Beckett nudges open the door with the muzzle of her pistol.

"City Police! Make yourself known!"

[justcautious.livejournal.com]

He must be on patrol, because this isn't a part of the City he's generally in. Or maybe...he could have been at a bar, because he doesn't have his gun, apparently.

This lack of revolver becomes an issue when he notices the red tint to the wet spot. Chris looks nervously around himself and then heads carefully towards what is probably blood. He'll just take a look to see if there's a body somewhere around it and then note his location and head back to the Station to report it.

in the web of dizzy leaves

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

The door opens onto the roof of Building 12. Peter stands to one side, Sylar to another. "I felt bad for you!" Peter yells at the man in black. Neither have noticed Claire yet. "As sick and twisted, and...and screwed up as you are, somehow, I ended up..." He starts laughing again, the sound mirthless. "...what a waste of time. I can't even ask you if you understand. How could you? Someone who killed his own mother." He shakes his head in disgust.

The statement hits Sylar hard- he bites his lip and stares down at Peter's feet. "You think I wanted this to happen? This is what I do, I hurt people. I can't change it, I can't stop it. My father was right- I was a fool for trying to fight it." He raises a hand out toward Peter, picking him up off the ground in a chokehold. "'A waste of time.' So I should just give in, huh?"

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

"Yes, it does!" Sylar yells hysterically. Even he can recognize that, so he takes a moment before he continues. "She left me, Anthony. She packed up and left while I couldn't remember who I was. She was supposed to help me, but that's never how it goes. Because I'm beyond help, aren't I?" He looks back at Faith, who isn't allowed to answer.

in the web of dizzy leaves

[adamantined]

There's a moment, just one, brief and flickering, where Claire thinks yes, just give in. It has nothing to do with resentment toward Peter, nothing to do with becoming some twisted construction of whatever this dream is. Rather, it has everything to do with wanting and needing to see Sylar be how she imagines him: dark shadows in the already-dark streets, a monster lurking just out of eye sight, that feeling of being watched at the back of her neck her whole life. As much as Claire has needed to fill some role the past few years, she's needed the rest of the players to fill them, too, and seeing Sylar behaving as the part she's given him dictates is normal. It's expected. It's right.

But it's only a moment, and even if it is a dream, it's not something she can stomach seeing. The lines between what is real and what is just imagination stretch and blur, and this is Kirby Plaza as it was explained to her, the image she's had in her mind as a result of other people's stories, too late herself to be there when it mattered. That moment passes and Claire is running, shoving away the feeling of her skin crawling as she uses what momentum she has to attach to Sylar's back, arms around his throat so that her nails can dig into his neck.

If he loses his balance and they both go tumbling over, then what does it matter? Even if dying in a dream means dying in reality, it's not as if either of them have anything like that to worry about. This is the only solution the dream presents, both to getting Sylar to stop and to making Peter stop talking.

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

There's no body there. But as soon as he reaches the blood, there's the sound of panicked breathing coming from down an alleyway. It sounds like a woman. It feels like the ticking is drowning every other sound out.

covered in secrets, covered in stains

[coffeenspeed.livejournal.com]

"No you're not," he says before Gabriel can do anything. "You've been doing so well..."

He takes another step forward, throwing a paniced glance at Faith. "Please let her go, Gabriel... This... You don't want to do this..."