A New Set of Sins


amato_icon.gif sylar_icon.gif

Scene Title A New Set of Sins
Synopsis Sylar delivers Amato gold thread.
Date November 13, 2008

Confucius Plaza: Amato's Apartment

The current resident of this apartment has either just moved in or lacks the time or motivation to decorate.

The result of this is pretty much a blank slate of a space. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, and both bedrooms retain their blank, waiting white walls, but there is a great deal more furniture in this living space than there was in the last one this specific person occupied. The living room houses a small FM radio in addition to its table and paired chairs, each obviously picked up at a flea market like the rest of the furnishings. The only appliance added to the kitchen, along with a rudimentary set of dishes and cookware, is a coffeepot. The bathroom has a compliment of nondescript necessities and a single towel which has seen far better days. Each of the bedrooms has an iron bedframe and a simple mattress.

It is clear that whomever lives here does the primary amount of living outside of these walls.

Far be it from Sylar to bring trouble to Amato's door. He doesn't feel the need to completely change his shape for the occasion, especially not once he's within the apartment complex, or preternaturally blend into his surroundings, but he does what he otherwise can to make sure he's not being followed. It's just polite. When he gets to Amato's apartment, he hesitates, before knocking. When it came to Ethan's place, he would normally just shift the locks around in his mind and barge right in, but then again, there was no mystery with that man. This was more unknown territory, and so, he knocks. His dark clothes (predominantly black and navy) are damp from rain, but hair and face remain dry thanks to the heavy hood of his coat now pulled back to hang down his back.

Benjamin Sall just moved in to apartment 205 today, and is sitting at his singular table with the day's paper spread before him when Sylar knocks. And so, since he has recieved no visitors and only send the pigeon bearing his new whereabouts from the rooftop a few hours ago, it is Benjamin Sall who comes to the door, and the voice that speaks through the wooden panel as his thin fingers work the deadbolt is distinctly American. "Hold on a minute," he eases as the bolt clicks and the chain rattles when stretched with that opening door.

But when the vistor is revealed to be none other than Kazimir's blunt (yet in the process of being refined) instrument, the American burned by an unfortunate accident with a stove is replaced by the Italian who had a nasty run-in with an Evolved possessing particularly nasty breath. His face becomes stony, the only life living in his curious eyes. The chain is quickly dealt with, but Amato glances down the hall on either side of his door before he permits the other man and secures the door behind him.

"I could ask all manner of questions regarding your presence here," he says, that nigh-unpinable accent that is Amato's own voice taking over. "But I will begin with what is perhaps the most important: how did you find me?"
Sylar moves within the apartment, only just brushing past Amato and curiously peering around and taking in this new space with interest and innocence. It's not the most telling of apartments - but then, its emptiness might be the most telling thing of all. He doesn't go to make himself at home, however, or hang up his coat, just paces through, running his fingertips over the back of a chair he passes.

"Would you believe me if I said that Kazimir gave me the address?" Sylar asks as he wanders further, then turns to face Amato again, eyes lingering towards the facial injuries. Rudely staring, almost, but with more study than disgust. "If it makes you feel any better, this is a little out of my way." A little being an understatement, considering he resides in the Bronx. His hand drips into the pocket of his coat. "I had something to give you."

"I may be initially suspicious," Amato says as he folds his arms across his chest covered only by his shirt, vest, and tie, lingering somewhat near the door. "But I would not doubt you." His visible eyebrow lifts with further curiosity, and he glances to Sylar's coat pocket as rudely as his bandages are eyed. "What is it?"

A wallet is taken out, although it doesn't seem like this is the subject of his visit here as Sylar opens the leather flaps and takes out a slip of paper. A gift within a gift, perhaps, as this is opened too, and something invisible is resting inside. But perhaps the light in the room will pick up the faint shape of two long blonde hairs folded securely in the paper, and these, Sylar extracts, pinched between thumb and index finger. "Overdue," he says, simply, and holds out his hand for Amato. "But Kazimir said you'd want to take a look, regardless. I can't say I'm not curious about what you'd see."

As he was alone in his own 'home', Amato lacks his customary leather gloves, so taking the hair from the serial killer's palm is something Amato doesn't rush to do, despite the draw those blonde strands have on him. He wavers to one side before he starts to walk slowly toward Sylar, and his arms subtly curl to hold his sides in a hesitant, nervous sort of way.

The way in which Amato reaches out to pluck those hairs is almost surgical. Seeing two people at the same time is painful enough, on a sensory level, but seeing Sylar with even someone as pure as the owner of the last lock he examined has the potential of causing an aneurysm. The trick is to pick up the hair without touching Sylar for very long, if it all, and though Amato is as slow and precise as he can be, he still winces and shudders in that instant before he jerks his fingertips away from the other man's palm. Anticipation is a horrible thing, but soon Amato slips into what to some is a familiar trance - his grip firm and his eyes tightly shut.

What he sees through Odessa's eyes is certainly interesting. A young girl being electrocuted over and over again, beyond what a normal human being would be able to withstand…and the doctor enjoying the pain on the girl's face while simultaneously wishing she had her freedom and family. A patient on a table in obvious, excruciating pain as the doctor stitches up a wound of some sort, while the anethetic materials are available and merely a hands breath away. Despair as the newly aquired scar on her throat is examined, with distaste, in a mirror. And, much to Amato's joint interest and dismay, envy and greedy desire for the abilities of several individuals who flash across the vision of eyes that are not his own.

These scenes, of course, are only a few of those which Amato experiences vicariously through his contact with those two strands of hair. With his eyes still closed, Amato nears the table and lays them down carefully upon a dark photograph in the newspaper. It is only once they have fallen completely from his hand that he opens his eyes, and it is another moment before Amato resembles someone lucid.

"Of all the doctors one could have recruited for our flock, you bring us this one," he remarks somewhat blandly. "But I suppose her…nature is one you find comforting."

Sylar behaves himself. Or at least, he does what any one would in this situation and wait patiently for Amato's visions to be over. To Sylar, this is specifically good behaviour, but he can't help but watch avidly all the same, a hand still resting on the back of the chair and staying perfectly still, like a dog told to 'stay' when he doesn't really want to. When it's over, he watches the hairs be put down, then looks back towards the pale blond man with interest - and a flicker of interest in what he has to say. "Her nature isn't so far removed from what this group expects of its followers," he says, just as blandly, but a little more colour enters his tone when he goes on to say, "I was right, wasn't I? She'd work well with us."

"If you consider a doctor who finds pleasure in torturing patients an asset," Amato admits with a cold and somewhat sarcastic shrug. "I have no desire to find this Company, having heard your tales and now seeing…" but the man trails off with a shake of his head. "I think she would work well with you," Amato clarifies after a moment. "Which is perhaps why she was placed as your responsibility. Our master is an excellent judge of character," he adds with a slight grin.

"A doctor who finds pleasure in torturing her patients might have less of a problem stitching people like us up," Sylar points out, a little flatly - Amato's clarification not seeming to do much when his belief isn't quite affirmed the way he wanted it to be. "And our master put her under Wu-Long and Ethan. So if he is a good judge of character, I guess he agrees with me." His head tilts a little, and his chin lifts to Amato. "What else did you see? What might I not know already that you now do?"

Amato's smile only grows as he leans back and folds his arms across his chest once more. "Well, then," he states simply, "I suppose you will have to ask Kazimir that once I deliver my report to him." He glances at his feet in a bored sort of way before he casts his eyes out the window. "Our structure is a subtle one, as I'm sure you've noticed, but it is nonetheless one that ought to be respected, don't you think?"

There's a pause, as if Sylar is trying to figure out the smartest response before saying it, and his mouth twists into a smirk. "Yeah," he agrees, after a short time passes. "I guess I do think that. The best hierarchies are the ones where everyone thinks they're king, right?" The wallet he'd taken out, still in his hands, is folded back up and slipped back into his pocket. "That's alright, Odessa and I will create a whole new set of sins that what you saw won't even matter."

There are few people within the Vanguard, namely Kazimir himself, who can draw the sort of outright shocked expression Amato now wears out of the Italian's pale face. He swallows, then sets his jaw, letting the first remark slide since the second is so…disturbing.

"Will that be all then?" he asks in a deceptively cheerier tone of voice with an lifting of his one visible eyebrow.

Equally pleasant as Amato's tone, and equally put on, is Sylar's smile in return. "I think we're about done here," he agrees. "It was nice seeing you again." More deliberately facetious, was that comment, and he heads for the door - at least, he gives Amato a decently wide birth. As much pride as he may take in the work he does in his own way, he doesn't want every sin he has displayed to the religious man anymore than necessary.

November 13th: An Offer for Eve
November 13th: Customer Service
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License