Krevlornswath &quot;Lorne&quot; of the Deathwok Clan

[Rose has decided to check this out for herself after work. One part curiosity and the other she doesn't know what but she knows that she needs to see this. As she enters the lobby she spots the sharply dressed green alien and instantly knows it's him. The tune is a dead give away. And they did say a song, right? Right.

But she doesn't approach right away just staring for a moment in wonder and not really wanting to interrupt him in the middle of the song. And then she does just so, clapping and smiling.]

Lorne, yeah? Hullo. I'm, erm, Rose.

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[Lorne's grin could bridge the Atlantic upon seeing Rose. The fact that she's applauding him only makes it easier for him to grin and he hurries forward to shake her hand in his.]

Hey, Peaches! How are you? Look at those gorgeous eyes -- oh, if I was just a teensy bit more skilled you probably wouldn't even have to hum! Oh, I'm just green with envy!

[He throws her a wink after that one, of course.]

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[Rose shakes his hand still grinning for a moment finding the nickname to be rather adorable before there's a blush to her cheeks at his compliment followed by a laugh. He's certainly a charming one, she thinks.]

Oh just fine.

[And still curious.]

Got quite a voice on you but I'm sure you hear it all the time.

[She smiles and wonders what tune she has to carry out.]

So just any song, yeah?

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[He releases her hand and nods.]

Thanks - I'm so prone to flattery, I'll never dislike hearing it. Any song at all, whenever you're ready, Rose.

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Alright then. Let's...

When little Birdie bye-bye goes, quiet as mice in churches,
He puts his head where no one knows, on one leg he perches.
When little Babie bye-bye goes, on Mamma's arm reposing,
Soon he lies beneath the clothes, safe in the cradle dozing.

Well does it pass?

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[He watches her casually, smiling when he recognizes the tune to Pinafore Palace. Images tick before his eyes as her aura shifts and molds to tell the story of what could be. It only takes a moment for him to organize it into a coherent chronology, and he puts the words together with as much detail as he thinks is safe.]

Well if that wasn't the sweetest thing I've heard in a long time. You ever think about recording? No, no, sorry. Now I'm getting off track.

You've got a spark in you, Rose. On one hand, it looks like you're just a girl skipping along happily enjoying the moment. But hoo-ee! There's some major mojo under the surface, isn't there? I'm not sure even you see it quite yet.

The big reveal is iffy. It might not be exactly what you're hoping for, but sometimes the copy is better than the original. You've got a long journey ahead, and you're going to kick and grasp until you get to it. And

ooh

when you do, get me the name of their tailor, would-ya? They've been saying geek-chic is in, but I'd call it geek sexy, if you know what I'm saying!

Here's the thing. You're not the first and you aren't the last but you sure are special in a big way. Once you set your mind to your task, do me a favor and just keep at it, huh?

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[Rose goes from blushing to smiling and then before she can even get a single word in she’s just staring at him almost as if seeing a ghost past him but not really. It all sinks in and she can only think of the person it’s referring to and what it all means. Clearly she’s a bit gob smacked at the moment but soon recovers since silence is never a good thing.]

Blimey...

That's...

Oh you're the real deal aren't you.

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[Lorne laughs a little and nods. He's glad to see Rose is something of a satisfied customer. A wowed one, too.]

Something like that. You okay? Sometimes it's a lot for hu--people to handle at first.

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Sylar walks into the lobby, scanning for Lorne. He'd been putting this off, but this past weekend had made him even more confused than before. Maybe speaking to someone with an outside perspective would be a good idea.

He spots the guy not too far away and walks over. "Hi, Lorne," he says, smiling. He looks a lot calmer than he feels.

Edited Date: 2009-11-03 05:50 am (UTC)

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Sylar actually gets a good sized smile in return when Lorne spots him. He might be seen to brush his suit off a little, too, some self conscious primping as though it might provide defense against what the other man's capable of. He's trying to behave for Fred and be careful, which for Lorne means upping his usually affable nature.

"Gum-drop! Long time no chat." Lorne of course claps his hand on Sylar's shoulder in greeting and raises his eyebrows in admiration. "Well, aren't we looking dapper today? Now don't you say you dressed up for little ol' me!"

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"I tend to dress well," he replies with satisfaction. He knows that Lorne's probably flattering him for a reason- he doesn't really care. Once he'd settled a little here in the City, he had plenty of clothes tailored. He'd wanted to do so for ages before even meeting Chandra, but he didn't feel he could wear them well. How wrong he was.

"Do you ever call anyone by their name?" he asks, with an amused smile. "How are you, Lorne? I hope the visitors this past weekend didn't bother you too much."

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Lorne simply affirms his tendency toward nicknames with a shake of his head. He knows there's a reason for this visit; while small talk just might be that reason, Lorne's prepared for the chance that it's for something a little more.

"I'm darn peachy, given the interesting aftermath of this weekend, thanks. Seemed like everyone came out of the woodworks, though I suppose it's nothing we all haven't dealt with before," he replies. "And yourself? Any unwanted presences to deal with?"

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He smiles a little at Lorne, shaking his head. "No unwelcome guests, no. I ended up dealing with one from your world, though."

The smile fades as he thinks about it. "I really should have gotten to him earlier, maybe he wouldn't have caused you folks so much trouble." But it hadn't been a challenge for him- and while it had been fairly satisfying, that was kind of a shame.

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"I caught snippets of that between rushing to get bandages and a mini triage set up. I'm sure it was an experience." He had an idea of how much more than that it might have been, but that was something he was okay having no images of. Angelus alone gave him the willies. A head to head would probably result in something nightmarish.

Lorne sighs a little, because he's not sure if the ordeal was made worse or better by Sylar's presence. At the same time, he's glad the situation was resolved relatively easily. "Thanks for stepping in when you did, Gabriel. Last time we had that encounter, things went downhill fast. Scary fast."

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"It certainly had gone downhill enough plenty," he replies, frowning slightly as he remembers the condition he found Faith in.

It's a moment before he says anything else. He's considering his words carefully. "Meeting Angelus- I can see why Angel dislikes me so much. There are similarities," Sylar notes. "But I still think he has me pegged wrong."

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Lorne can't disagree with that evaluation. He's just glad everyone came out alive. "Oh, well I can't really say one way or the other about that. I do know that Angelus is, well he's inhuman down to his evil bones. I don't think anyone who's experienced what he has wants to see anyone go down the same path. Especially voluntarily."

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"Voluntarily? Do you mean, with a soul?" Sylar asks, raising an eyebrow. "Because I'm not sure if I have one of those. Although- actually, I bet you'd have told me if I didn't," he adds, with a wry smile.

"But what I did- the cruelty was practical. I always had a purpose- Angelus' endgame was the cruelty. It was pointless," he says, his eyes looking away from Lorne and settling on the opposite wall. "It's not much of a difference, but there it was."

He bites his lip for a moment, then looks back up to Lorne. "Do you think there's a way I could stop? Stop destroying things?" It had gone from practical to accidental. And everything was a mess.

Edited Date: 2009-11-06 05:42 am (UTC)

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Lorne's demeanor turned slowly serious as he listened to the fact that Sylar was dissecting himself in relation to Angelus. He didn't like the path that that might lead down. "Oh sugar, I hate to burst your bubble but you have one, burning as brightly as every other person's."

He ponders Sylar's final question, watching the other man possibly too closely. Probably due to the openness of his question and how blunt it was, he answered in the worst way possible: with another question. "Do you really want to? I mean, really-really."

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Sylar's face didn't exactly fall when Lorne confirmed he did have a soul- however, it did seem like he was pulling in on himself. Because if his father didn't rip out his soul when he was five, then what the hell did he do? Certainly nothing a simple spell could fix.

It wasn't fair.

The question makes him think, and it's a long time before he answers. "My ability- my original ability- it was made to create things. To build. To make them better than they were. I'm tired of finding myself only capable of the opposite when there seems so much potential otherwise."

He licks his lips and sighs. What he'd said is true, but the real reason is because he is so very lonely. He's been alone all his life, in one sense or another, and he was going to break apart if he continued doing so.

He can't quite say that, so he looks up at Lorne. "I can't keep going like this, I'm going to destroy myself and everything around me. So yes, I really want to stop."

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"I think," he paused. Because he wasn't sure, and he didn't like that. The past he'd seen combined with the future, it didn't spell out Sylar's destiny. Lorne was given the letters out of order and he never was all that great at Jumble. "I think if you're dedicated enough, you can change whatever you want."

That was the track record Lorne was familiar with. Everybody changed constantly, and a lot of times it was for the better, especially if they worked at it. Why couldn't it be the same for Sylar? He continued, a little more confident now. While he might not be able to tell Sylar what to do, he knew that there was a possibility for him to do it on his own. "You can stop it. Here's as good a place as any, with all the superbeings in residence."

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Sylar took all this information in, glad to have confirmation from someone, at least. He wasn't sure if that would ever happen, beyond Faith- and she apparently hadn't really understood how far he'd gone.

He was fairly sure Lorne's assessment wasn't based on denial. Still, the last sentence deflated him a little. "Yes, but just here, isn't it? It won't make any difference back home." He sighed. "I guess that's the best I can hope for."

After a moment's consideration, he quirked an eyebrow at Lorne. "Do you like ice cream?"

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Lorne felt badly for Sylar, then. He hadn't really thought of that snag, since to him Poly was just another portal from a world he didn't want to live in anymore. Even when he went back to Pylea, he was the same person he'd been when he was younger. "I think it's like that for everyone, even on a smaller level. You go home and you revert, it can't be helped. Like rubber bands, we snap back into place."

At Sylar's question however, Lorne's eyebrows lifted in at least a little confusion. He smiled quickly after, answering, "I scream, you scream? Sure, it's like cold heaven in your mouth! They even make kinds that taste like alcohol."

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Lorne had a way of making people feel better, and Sylar felt he was no exception. He'd been trying to figure out a way to remember for a full year now with no luck. Several people had decided he was trying to gain power through the Clock, and maybe he was, on some level- but he really didn't want to forget this place.

Lorne was right, though- he knew how that worked. With a wry smile, he replied, "I guess I'd better stay away from New York, then."

The ice cream comment had him smiling back as well. "Well, then- you want some? My treat, of course. There's a shop on the corner." Peter had gotten him thinking about it. And he planned on paying Lorne for his help, of course, but- maybe after the ice cream. There could be more talking and carefully-worded questions in between, how fun.

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People liked, for the most part, when others were straight with them. Lorne was never really great at pretense in the company of people that earned his respect in any degree, and Sylar was no exception. He chuckled at the comment about New York, feeling something of the same sentiment - of course, for entirely different reasons.

"Well, skyrockets in flight! I haven't had a sundae in ages." He steps away to pull on his suit coat, and after primping a little, gives Sylar a grin. As they begin their short trek, Lorne quietly hums 'Afternoon Delight' to himself. He wanted to show Sylar that this side of him was a good thing. The guy's head was filled with all sorts of dark bad memories, how was he expected to get his head above the water? They had a good start - ice cream always meant happy things.

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That made him outright grin. He'd actually had ice cream with people here a couple times before- and really, there had never been anything to sour it.

So he started walking in the right direction, hands in his pockets. "I'm really not sure how to do this, you know," he said, shrugging. "Stop being who I am, who I've been pushed into being. But from what Faith's told me, it sounds like a struggle no matter what. Guess I'll just have to figure it out." But he was fairly certain he couldn't do it on his own, at this point. Every time he tried it, it crunched and corrupted into something terrible.

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Humming on, Lorne walked at Sylar's side, pondering what he said. After a couple bars (he'd just gotten to a good part), he cleared his throat lightly. "Maybe you should look at it like you're trying to be who you really are, hey? Like you said before, your ability was for improvement. If you weed out everything else, get down deep to that origin, well. I'd hope there'd be a cute little garden of Gabriel shaped flowers left over."

He chuckled after making that metaphor. "That was a little purple, even for me! But I mean it. And it will be a struggle, you're not wrong about that. Nobody likes to weed, Gabriel. Not even Martha Stewart."

Edited Date: 2009-11-11 04:20 am (UTC)

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Sylar's shoulders hunched somewhat as Lorne talked about finding his origin. "You'd find that Gabriel himself was a weed. That's part of the problem. There's no real me. It was wiped out when I was five. Ever since then, I've been...empty, trying to fill the void with what I thought people wanted of me."

He wasn't looking at Lorne anymore. Instead he was staring straight ahead, his face an expressionless mask. "So instead of finding what's been cut up and buried, I need to build something else."

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"Oh, I see." It was all he could say; he remembered being made to feel like a weed. Having absolutely no purpose, no reason to exist. It was a daily struggle, until the music started and it was one he never thought he'd actually win.

Before they entered the shop, Lorne gently touched Sylar's shoulder and began to speak whether or not he looked up. "We'll have to find your music, then. Ice cream's a good start, c'mon."

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