I can see what makes you tick.

Active day on the Network, today. Mother, I've been affected by the curse, just to warn you.

I found myself at the library rather frequently lately- I do love the books it gives me sometimes. The books are always amazing, usually from worlds I've never even heard of. It takes me awhile to even sort out what they're talking about half the time. I think the last one was about hippogriff mannerisms. It's almost enough to keep me distracted. Almost.

I try to make sure all my time is filled. I'm always doing something, because I can't stop, not unless I'm sleeping. Even then, I wonder if my mind is working out things on its own. That's good, I've had a great deal to think about lately. Reform's not meant to be easy, I suppose. Still, I wonder whether I'm making progress, or if the rest of my world is slipping backwards.

( Private to Mohinder )

So many firsts already this month, and we're not even a week into the new year. Change in this City is about the only thing that's not new- there's always patterns to the growth, to the setbacks, but they're never quite the same.

It's something I personally can appreciate- I enjoy progress, perhaps even live for it. I'm striving to become a better man, looking for things to tweak, to fix, as many of you well know. So I want to thank everyone who's been giving me firsts this year. New experiences are always welcome.

In particular, I must thank you again, Lucy. You're far too kind to me. I imagine you don't know what the signifigance of wearing a new watch is to me, but maybe someday I can explain it to you. It really is a beautiful piece.

For all these changes, the Network seems rather quiet the last few days. Recuperating, maybe?

( Private to Lilith )

( Private to Mohinder )

Knew I shouldn't have played around at the shop so late, Mom's going to kill me-

So, I could probably use a little help, if anyone's inclined. Can anybody point me towards Queens?

My shop is closed indefinitely, for obvious reasons.

Who's sick? I've been seeing people talking about headaches, some flu symptoms. How are you feeling now?

Anyone see any other odd things today?

We seem to have a sudden influx of peop-

...wait, I remember this. I'm barricading the doors.



No, I'm not answering questions this time. Will you stop telling me you're going to fix me!? I don't care if you don't want me to be good, that's hardly your decision.

And please, keep your sordid fantasies to yourself. My mother doesn't need to hear that. I don't need to hear that.

[ooc: Anything goes, folks!]

Thank you to everyone who calmed me down yesterday. I apologize for my outburst, and I'm relieved to note that I didn't end up hurting anyone. Of course I had to reawaken on a curse day.

I'm back, for those few who might have wanted my assistance at the shop. And Doctor Sahl? I think I'll take you up on that offer to look at the hospital equipment today, if it's still open. Thank you for your kindness yesterday.

( Private to Mohinder )

( Private (but viewable to Angela) )

Anyone who wishes to reassert their hatred for me, you can feel free to do so here.

However, I had a very nice night.

( Filtered to Mohinder )

The first time it was my own fault. One has to have perfectly steady hands for the work I was doing- one tiny twitch and your motor skills are gone- well, okay, that was never actually a danger. But I hadn't anticipated quite that much blood.

The second time I was lying on a slab in that dungeon in Odessa. The closest I came was right around the conductivity testing, I'd say, I seem to remember the staccato of electric shocks jumping my brain back and forth. That doctor--- [Laughs] You never did find anything other than telekinesis, did you, Noah?

The third time was you, Mohinder. First the spinal tap- lucky that went as well as it did. Not only did you manage to keep from paralyzing me, but the shock of the pain was quite the motivator. And then you shot me in the face, which we can't forget, can we? Although I wasn't really in danger by then. Too bad you hadn't done that earlier.

The fourth and fifth times were the Japanese man. And don't think I haven't seen you lurking about- not everything is locked against me, you know. When I first met you, you had- I can only assume stopped time in my moth- Virginia's apartment. You had your sword at my neck, and I didn't have a chance. But you hesitated. Why couldn't you do it? You would've been a hero, even in my eyes. But no, all you did was disrupt me in that private moment. How long had you been watching me?

You did manage to do it the second time- fulfilled the painter's prophecy, for as much good as that did. That sword caught me in the chest- not in the heart, thankfully. I've never felt pain like that before, I hope you're proud about that. After I flung you at that building, I spent my last remaining moments of consciousness using telekinesis to try and hold myself together. I knew it was useless, but I had to fight any way I could. After that was a long wash of pain in any way it could manifest- sharp or dull, bright and aching. I suppose I should've been glad for it, it meant I wasn't dead yet, but- I just wanted it to stop. It took months.

The last time was my fault again. Maya almost killed me, during our beautiful little picnic in Virginia. I pushed her to it, I had to know that I could get rid of that threat she called her brother. Even without my ability, I could tell that the control of her ability was her own- the lack of control was merely an emotional issue. So I pushed her from a standstill, and she had to control it or watch me die. My gamble worked out, in the end, but the way my lungs just stopped taking in air, the way everything in my body just closed off- I have to admit, I was almost worried.

....oh, I see. My very first curse? -well, since I've returned. That didn't take long. I hope you all enjoyed the storytime.

The second time 'round, of course.

[nick / name]: Amy
[personal LJ name]: notcrazy_honest
[other characters currently played]: none
[e-mail]: Eliada@gmail.com
[AIM / messenger]: Townshend302

[series]: Heroes
[character]: Gabriel Gray (aka Gabriel Sylar)
[character history / background]: You can find summaries and episode-by-episode info about him here. Let me know if you need anything else.
[character abilities]: Intuitive aptitude, telekinesis, rapid cellular regeneration, sound manipulation, clairsentience (ability to know an object’s history by touching it). This is just what he’s got in canon right now, and I’d be more than happy to tone down or take out some of these entirely, if that’s preferred.

[character personality]: Sylar is manipulative, obnoxious, and emotionally about twelve years old. He craves validation, and will get it any way possible. Everything he does is a show, an act to get other people to recognize how awesome he is. It does frequently become clear during his reign of terror that he is pretty much a big nerd operating off the old comic book ideas of how villains are supposed to act. He will do anything for validation, any sort of nod of recognition. When he makes up his mind to do something, that’s it- he’ll see that it happens. He’s a very single-minded individual in this aspect.

At the point in canon I’m taking him from, he’s trying something new- he’s trying to be a good person. It’s difficult to go from being the Baddest Bad Guy that ever happened to helping people out, but he switches tracks fairly easily. This may be due in part to the fact that he’s a sociopath- his innate ability has certainly helped that along. Being able to understand how everything works, just as if it were all machinery to be fit together correctly, sort of detaches him and makes him capable of rationalizing just about anything. But it also means he doesn’t really understand what most people do about emotions or relationships- hence the ‘emotionally twelve years old’ thing.

So, in his case, he really thinks he’s trying to redeem himself, although he feels little to no remorse about what he’s done (he doesn’t have to, his new mom told him it wasn’t his fault) and he doesn’t really understand the whole concept of redemption anyway. Everything’s just supposed to be okay with all these people he terrorized now. He knows that it’s going to take some convincing with some people, but he has no idea the extent to which “you killed people I cared about” will make people mad. To him, it’s all still a game.

[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: Third season, episode six- while he’s playing at being a Company Man. This would be right after his fight with Peter lands him back in Level Five in an induced coma.

[journal post]: I had thought this place was a dream. It still might be, I suppose.

Hello, does anyone remember me? My name is Gabriel. I briefly ran a timepiece restoration shop near Building 12.

[third person / log sample]: The man who called himself Gabriel now regained consciousness as if it were a fight, kicking and flailing in the air. He brought his hand up immediately in a sort of half-shield- not that he was capable of using telekinesis with his mind the disorganized mess it was right now. Hell, he couldn’t even see right now, not with those spots still clearing from his eyes. “Peter, you can’t go to Pinehearst when you don’t even underst-“ He cut himself off when he realized Peter was not here with him.

Nor was he anywhere he recognized. It appeared that Gabriel was now in some sort of alley, and his mind flashed back to the alley behind Reed Street, where he injected himself with that stolen cure. With a groan, Gabriel pushed himself off the dirty ground, thinking of his current options. He’d have to chase after Peter and make sure his brother was okay.

That thought died as soon as he left the alley and found himself in a very familiar square. The fountain cinched it, and memories, hazy as they were, came flooding back. He found himself cursing the lack of eidetic memory as he tried to think back to everything that had happened after he had gotten stabbed in Kirby Plaza. He came here, he met Peter- took his ability, and then he got into several fights he couldn’t win. After that, he’d woken up on a fake beach with Michelle- Candace, whatever her name was, and she explained to him that he’d been out of it since he’d been stabbed. He had always thought he’d dreamed this whole thing, and yet, here he was.

He wouldn’t be able to reach Pinehearst from here, and Peter would be long gone. Gabriel sighed and ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back into place as he walked into the town’s center. His life right now was just as much a pipe dream as his current situation, he had to admit to himself. Ever since Angela had laid a hand on his face and told him that he was her son, he knew he’d had false hope. The woman obviously knew what buttons to push on him to get the appropriate reactions- it didn’t take the skilled manipulator that he knew she was to get the words right and make him more pliable.

No, she was most definitely using him, but he didn’t really mind. In the meantime, he had reassurance from her, the acceptance and support of an entire organization, and- well, he could try to be the hero for once. Be the good guy. It was proving to be a nice change of pace. Throw in the feeling of belonging to a family and the occasional person thrown his way for the purpose of power consumption, and it seemed like he was getting a pretty good deal out of the bargain. He had chosen to believe her, for these reasons- and also because it meant he hadn’t accidentally killed his own mother. Virginia Gray had just been someone he’d been given to.

He reached the fountain with these thoughts and reached into the water to wash his face off. He’d have to catch up with this community, see what was different and if anyone remembered him. He wasn’t particularly sure he wanted them to- it might be easier to start fresh.

As he pulled back from the water, a moving image in the spray caught his eye- the watchmaker bent over a watch, tools in hand and glasses in place and a small but triumphant smile covering his features. The door behind him opened and an older Indian gentleman appeared, carrying a textbook. Both were so blissfully unaware of what was to come. Gabriel frowned and looked away from the reflection. Time to move on.

[Private]

Last year, my mother cooked for a week, like she always did. I was there for most of it- she needed me there to argue with. Every time I mentioned the new watches I was working on, she'd pull out another career that would better suit me. I helped with the baking, like always, and we watched the parade in the morning and ate the rest of the day. Or, to be more accurate, she tried to make me eat all day. That night, when I said goodbye, she kissed me on the cheek and told me that she always hoped for the best for me.

When I think back on it, it's not the scissors plunged into her chest that intrude on my happy memories. What I can't get out of my mind is how she shoved me away, said I wasn't her son. She called me damned.

I sometimes wonder if she knew how right she was.

You never said it, but you always believed I didn't appreciate you enough, Mom. Now that you're gone, I do. Thank you, for the smothering and the hysterics and for being the only person who was there for me.


...hmmm, cupcakes?

[End Private Lock]


Thank you, Claire. They were very good.