Participants:
| Scene Title | Sylar Killed __ |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A request is made between old allies, rekindling something of a business relationship. |
| Date | December 4, 2010 |
Some people are easier to find than others. It's hard to believe that two years ago to the day, she had been planning a battle plan with the man, and the road trip that she wanted to follow. The two of them, far away from the bustle of New York— and this island isn't anywhere near where she would have imagined. Gillian walks along the castle, in the direction she was told to look, but the further she goes, the more she wonders…
Is she walking the wrong way? The small glowing light that's more a glow than a flashlight's beam provices the illuminations. "I think I liked it better when you could hear a pin drop from a mile away so all I'd have to do was whisper in the wind and you'd know I needed you," she says in a soft voice, not counting on him hearing it— though perhaps he will. Who knows…
The glowing light shines into one of the warmer rooms, but even then she can see her breath. "Are you here, Gabriel?" It's been so long since they've spoken, she half wonders if he'd even answer…
There are ways to hear, without hearing. He could be in the room she angles the flashlight through. He could be riding around as a psychic, ghostly presence within her own skull. When his voice doesn't echo only between her ears—
"In here."
— she'll know better. The windows are covered with thick curtains so as better to keep the cold out, but the room virtually empty of furniture save for a dusty writing desk, a stack of empty painting frames angled against the paint stripped wall, and a hearth that hasn't been filled with firewood, let alone flame. Gabriel picked this corner because it's quiet, secluded, and is about as intimate as a doctor's office, stripped and chilly and no where to sit.
Though he's taken to leaning a hip against the desk, a lit lantern, freshly lit, set down on the dusty surface to glow luminous oranges and golds around the room. He's dressed rather lightly for the season, as if the cold didn't effect him. Maybe it doesn't.
The voice sends shivers down her spine that have very little to do with the chill that's alread creeped into her skin, despite the coats and layers she's wearing. Gillian shifts into the secluded corner of the castle, twisting the light to turn it off, relying on the glow of the lantern to provide the light as she puts the electrical device away. Even if it's one of those handy self-powered lights, no need to have two right now.
It's discarded into the pocket of her coat, so that her hands are free, more or less. "It's been a while," she states the thought outloud, as she watches the shadows play against his face, the oranges and golds only setting off certain features, and elongating others.
"I wish I could say I was here just to talk, or…" Her voice trails off, eyes shifting down and away. There's a wince in her forehead, as if she's angry at herself for trying to explain, before she just jumps into it. "I need your help."
Her hair is red. Gabriel can't say he hasn't seen it that shade before now, and you know. Women and their vanities. He is more used to inky black with subtle brunette coppered through it under light, and deep red lips. It's how his mental image of Gillian has remained, preserved as fleetingly as a light trick impressed upon the brain, but also permanent, seemingly. He drags his stare from her towards the heavily curtained windows, the sound of his boot heel scuffing the gritty floor following.
"I figured," he gravels out. Most people who make contact with him again need his help, one way or another. Maybe if he was a better friend, that'd stop happening.
Even the darker roots visible in the red aren't as dark as the hair he first met her wearing. Gillian had been in her black hair dye stage, and while she dabbled in near red, it'd never been this bright, nor this grown out. There have been more things on her mind than her hair, which is pulled back out of her face. Fidgeting with her hands in front of her, she chews on her lower lip for a moment, before she can start explaining.
"My brother found a young woman who thought she died in the Midtown explosion, but it turns out that she had an ability that pulled her out of sync with the rest of the world. Brian's pretty sure she's out of phase, that phasing is her ability… and he allowed one of the Lighthouse Kids, Paul, to try and get her back— apparently he can phase too, and how he's stuck too." There's that hesitation again, but… a clone of him had been in the Lighthouse for so long and nothing happened—
"If anyone can teach someone how to use an ability they've broken, it's you. And I think you might have an ability that could take you where they are— at least I think you did."
His eyebrows twitch up even as he stare skates downwards, veiling eyes in both shadows and eyelashes, which may be indicative of something like— he could do this thing she asks. Maybe.
"I'm not a good teacher," Gabriel corrects, after several moments of thinking. "But I took a power like that once. I accidentally cut this fed in half when he used it to escape, and I took the remains away after the fight." So it goes, head tipping a little to the side in a gesture that could be falsely attributed to rue.
"I would need a little help."
"I wouldn't ask you to do something I'm not willing to help with," Gillian says with some sign of relief in her voice. She tries her best to hide it, but it's still there, not masked nearly enough by the cold that's rendered her voice hoarser than usual.
"But I always thought you were a fine teacher, even if a primal one," she adds on, a simple directness to her voice. Normally she'd launch into more of an explaination than that, but it seems she's decided some things aren't needing it.
That has Gabriel revving a small sound at the back of his throat, a smile that is small and feline and somewhat distanced. "Not lately," he intones, a little darkly, for Gillian to make of what she will, which could be accurate or could be nothing at all. The floorboards creak beneath his feet as he heads for the window, pushing two fingers past the parting of curtains and nudging one draping aside to peer out at the dark castle grounds. It's not snowing, right now, but it could.
"Tell me about them. Stuck how? What's stopping them falling to the centre of the world?"
There's a smile on her lips that seems to say that perhaps he's just not finding the right students, but Gillian doesn't say it outloud. If they do end up making the Lighthouse into Hogwarts for the Evolved, he'd be a perfect Snape, including the eventual Sylar killed __!! spoiler alert of the future. The thoughts are kept to herself, but that smile shows they're there.
"I honestly don't know. You can see them in mirrors, apparently, and that's how Brian is able to communicate with the girl. Can't hear them, but can see them in mirrors— so I'm honestly not sure how it works— whatever her ability is, it may be more than phasing. She's invisible and inaudiable too." It seems like phasing but less so than most… "But since you asked, how do you keep from floating through the floor when you're phased?"
"I phase myself in parts." He glances at her, then down at the ground — where he promptly slips through it, becoming several inches less than 6'1" as the wooden ground sinks him nearly up to his knees, where he abruptly halts, causing him to wince like that pains him. Arms windmill slightly, to stop him from folding over off-balance, a hand abruptly gripping the curtains. Carefully, Gabriel steps back out of the floor, standing on solid feet once more.
Demonstrates, again, but letting his hand pass through curtain and window both, sinking back. "Powers. They come in all shapes and sizes. I can't phase anything big, not a person. But I can probably do it if you augment me."
"I'm not sure if I can keep augmenting you if you manage to get into whatever… place they've managed to get stuck, so if I have to go with you, I will," Gillian says, determined by that much. "I'm stronger than I used to be, so hopefully it's enough." Even as she says that, she glances off towards the side, rather than the floor he just slipped into, closer to the window and curtain his hand swept through.
There is another possible option, which she hesitates to mention.
"I imagine now that you're on board Brian will want to do this as quickly as possible. Paul's only ten, so it— he shouldn't have had him do that in the first place, but hopefully he learned from it— And hopefully Paul isn't watching girls in the bath." Invisible, walks through walks, can't be heard— she can only imagine. "I guess I should be glad he hasn't gone through puberty yet."
"Time is of the essence." When is it not. "I'm not making a habit of this. The helping. But right now I can't afford to make more enemies by being a dick." Frankly put, with a wry lift of an eyebrow, before Gabriel turns his back on her and moving to pick up the lantern to guide his way back to his room, the light shifting around on a swing, vaguely nausea-inducing for those that hate motion, tipping light up and down like waves.
He shrugs, once, glances back at her. "And you never know when you need a favour. You should be aware, too, that I'll automatically copy your power when you use it on me." Which might also be something of a hook. It's what drove him back in time, once.
"I'd say that's a fair trade," Gillian admits as she pulls out her own light, to follow behind him. At least a little ways. The directions they go will inevitably change, as they always have in the past, but for the moment they are walking the same direction.
"Thank you, Gabriel. I do consider this a favor," and it will likely earn him some points with a few people connected to the Lighthouse, but she doesn't say that part. "I expect I'll have to return the favor sometime, though, as more than a borrowing of my ability."
"Yes."
He leads the way out from the room, shouldering the door open wider and letting the setting behind them fall into darkness as he brings the light with. Gabriel mostly acknowledges that she's following him with a glance back and a lack of protest — but he also doesn't offer a reply beyond his simple affirmation, set down as heavy and definite as stone. He allows space for her to walk alongside him, if she wishes, the corridor broad.
Moving beside him, lights merging for a time, Gillian doesn't add anything more after his affirmation, the silence perhaps one part awkward, and one part comfortable. After a while, the silence is broken, with a gesture of the paler light down a corridor. "This is where I turn— I'll find you when Brian and the invisible duo are ready to get saved."
With that, she begins to move off on her divergent path to her own part of the castle's barracks.
Affirmation, as ever, comes in the form of silence. Gabriel's steps pause as she breaks away, watching her go with that odd kind of sentimentality. He has no interest in most people for the simple action of walking away, but also not sentimental enough to actually say anything out loud. No one speaks to a nice view, a pretty painting, anything that takes actual watching, and he doesn't really need to draw attention to the fact that he's watching his ex-girlfriend move.
A second later, maybe around the time Gillian can sense eyes on her, the light from his lantern blinks out completely, and with it, the man that was holding it.