The Day the World Went Away... (Aerys and Wistful Dream)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Aerys on 06-11-2009, 01:56:08</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Day the World Went Away... (Aerys and Wistful Dream)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aerys</strong> on <strong>06-11-2009, 01:56:08</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h230/ILuvEwan901/daytheworldwentaway.png)</div><br><br><div align="center">---</div><br><br><span style="font-size: 1em;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Lightning fanned across a sky of steel, flashing in the windows of towering skyscrapers before thunder roared through the streets of Manhattan. Rain poured in droves, blurring the window of Gabriel Gray's seat on the train. Most people around him were grumbling about the inclement weather, but he didn't mind storms. They cleansed the earth, ridding it of the build up of filth and grime, the blood, leaving the streets empty and fresh for the cycle to begin anew. <br><br>Not to mention the sound drowned out the screams.<br><br>The train rolled to a stop in Penn Station and tourists flocked to the escalators, lugging their suitcases and gawking at their surroundings like the fools they were.<br><br><em>Worthless,</em> Gabriel thought as he shouldered his single black bag. His gaping stride carried him past the clusters of people to a seldom used set of stairs, and up to the main floor of the station. His hand dove into the pocket of his jeans and fished out a folded piece of paper. On it was a scribbled Lower West Side address complete with the name <em>Silas</em> below it. A devilish grin claimed his lips; he couldn't help but silently thank the now dead geneticist he had stolen the list from. The jackass had practically gift-wrapped a buffet of abilities for him to pick and choose from. New York alone held many, but Gabriel had concerns for only one.<br><br>The power to wield and manipulate the elements was a rare gift, one that the man vowed he would have before the night was through.<br><br>The taxi stand outside Madison Square Garden was filled with more muttering souls huddled beneath umbrellas, waiting for a cab that would never come. Brow quirking, Gabriel slipped behind the massive line, hailing a cab before it could nose into the jammed queue. Vaguely he heard the rent-a-cop heading the line shout a threat, but before he could take two steps, Gabriel climbed inside and gave the foreign cabby the address. Sighing and rolling his slightly sore shoulders, he pulled off his black cap and ran a hand through his tousled black hair. <br><br>The cab negotiated the typical mid-afternoon New York traffic with ease, but judging by the time, rush hour wouldn't let him reach his destination very soon. Idle dark brown eyes flicked to the scenery rushing by the window, watching the forks of lightning with dark curiosity and undeniable, insatiable hunger.<br><br><em>Is that you, Silas?</em></span></span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Day the World Went Away... (Aerys and Wistful Dream)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>07-11-2009, 20:27:54</strong>
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				He loved the rain. <br><br>It was a rather simple and silly thing to enjoy like he did, but it was the truth and he wasn't about to lie about it. Not like he did so many other things. The streets of the Village were cast gray by the rain, the scents the myriad of little cafes hidden in the fresh wash of water that fell from the heavens. The Village had always soothed him, called to him, unlike the glittering towers of the Upper city, where his father would have loved to keep him. But no, the deal was he went to Columbia like a good boy and he got to live where ever he wanted, on his father's money. <br><br>Most of his fellow students would be shocked to think he would turn down the comfort of a penthouse home in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the city to live in the Village, his close friends understood, what few he had. Silas tilted his head back into the rain, letting it wash over him, his mind going back to the memories of his childhood, rather simple compared to most, especially with the type of money and the power of his family name now. Back in England, on that small estate, raised so simply. God what he wouldn't give to go back to that. Maybe that was why he liked the rain so much, it made him think of England, of the way things had been, of how he had wanted them to remain forever. <br><br>The sloe eyed young man sighed heavily to himself and shrugged off the memories that wouldn't do him any good. He strode further down the street, no longer lingering. He had things to do, and the rain mostly likely came thanks to his sour mood earlier this morning after the conversation with his father. Sometimes having control of the weather really wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The rain came when he was upset, and yet it soothed him just like music. His fingers itched and he felt the rain soak through the light material of his dark blue cotton sweater, the fabric clinging to his toned torso. He would have to spend some time with his guitar before he did anything else today. <br><br>He was still a few blocks from his home and so he stopped in one of the many little cafes, this one an Italian one, and one of his favorites to order a coffee and a slice of pizza to go. The music was going in his head as he paid the cashier and stepped out in the rain again. He spared a light control to buffer the pizza box, making sure it stayed dry, but letting himself, his designer clothing and his tousled hair get soaked. <em>I am odd...</em> He shrugged at the thought and started making his way back to the apartment he had made his own. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Day the World Went Away... (Aerys and Wistful Dream)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aerys</strong> on <strong>13-11-2009, 00:24:03</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">The Lower West Side was, predictably, devoid of its usual flock of tourists, hipster college students, and bohemian lot of morons who thought themselves the next Pollock or Austen. The rain always drove the crowds indoors, which Gabriel could hardly complain about. The less people around, the less of a chance there could be potential witnesses. <br><br>Not that he was concerned with a possible inference from the NYPD; he had killed in New York before, and had taken out his fair share of cops before they realized they had no chance of subduing him. Bennett had as much as reprimanded them that he was off limits, as if that fool thought himself anymore capable of hunting down and capturing the elusive Sylar.<br><br>Chuckling wryly, his grin dissolved into a leer as another dazzling flash of lightning streaked across the sky. He had done his research on this ability; mood swings, if drastic enough and if the wielder of such a power was strong enough, could dictate weather patterns. In a place as large as Manhattan, the ability to manipulate the elements on such a grand scale could only mean that this Silas was far more adept with this skill than Gabriel had originally assumed.<br><br><em>No matter.</em><br><br>The building the cab driver pulled up in front of was neither posh nor trashy; it was a few stories high, nestled amongst the other trendy reproductions of Brownstones lining the street. There was no doorman, just a set of heavy wooden doors leading into a small foyer with a callbox set into the wall. <br><br>Gabriel paid the driver and climbed out, cap pulled low over his eyes as he ascended the stairs and slipped inside. Unfamiliar with the boy's schedule, the man shrugged and buzzed up to see if his victim was home. Sylar had no preferences as to how he went about killing his targets. As long as he sawed open their skulls and attained their ability, he could care less.<br><br>When he garnered no answer, he lifted his hand and rested it flush against the lock of the door into the building. Closing his eyes, Gabriel focused, letting the mechanisms of the contraption beneath his fingertips filter through the depths of his mind. Every gear, every pin, every spring, he could <em>feel</em>, and, with the faintest flick of his mind and a twitch of his digits, the lock popped open and granted him access to the lobby.<br><br>He passed an older couple on his way up to the fifth floor, who upon meeting he flashed a warm smile and a nod. Despite a lack of recognition, the pair of overly curious assholes returned the gesture tentatively and inquired about his visit. Of course, one never could be too careful about something that wasn't your business, Gabriel thought with a brief roll of his eyes.<br><br>"I'm here visiting a friend, Silas Ardun," he explained. A soft clink of keys from his pocket affirmed this statement. "He gave me a spare set of keys to get into his apartment."<br><br>"He left a few hours ago," the woman answered, her face softening a little. "He should be back soon though. Have you been to New York before?"<br><br>"No, ma'am, this is my first time. I will be sure to call him once I get inside and tell him I've arrived. And that he has such wonderful and friendly neighbors."<br><br>That did it, per the usual. Flattering finally got them off of his back, and they left in a flurry of praise, restaurant suggestions and polite thanks. Sylar watched them go, abandoning the pretense of anything remotely cheerful, his face twisting into a dark scowl. <br><br>Getting into the apartment proved just as easy as the door into the building had been. His ability to cipher out how things worked--clocks, humans, other gadgetry--and how to fix them had been the foundation of his desire to acquire other powers, once he found out that he was in fact not alone. Not that he saw anyone else as an equal, no. They were simply vessels holding onto his rightful gift until he managed to get around to picking up said gift.<br><br>Just like Silas Ardun.<br><br>The apartment was modest, just like the rest of the building. Spacious, but not obnoxiously so, adorned with just the right amount of furniture to strike a balance between homey and cluttered. Gabriel flicked on the lightswitch and dropped his bag into the neighboring chair, dark gaze scanning the depths of the rooms before glancing to the steely light from a line of windows facing the street. <br><br><em>Wouldn't do any good to have someone spying.</em> With an idle mental flick, the curtains were drawn shut in rapid succession, his lazy stride bringing him further into the living room. Bits of sheet music were scattered around the coffee table, the tops of dressers, the edges of bookshelves, as well as their accompanying instruments. The most interesting of these pieces was the baby grand tucked away in a small bay window on the far side of the living room, and while Gabriel's knowledge of instruments was paltry at best, it didn't take a seasoned eye to recognize the amount of care put into the piece. <br><br>And yet, as he sat on the bench and stared at the latest work, consisting of little more than scribbled lines and dots, Sylar found it all too easy to puzzle out their meaning. Surprisingly nimble fingers settled on the keys and drifted across the ivory bars lightly before he began to play with equally startling ease. <br><br>Oh, the benefits of being <em>special</em>.</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Day the World Went Away... (Aerys and Wistful Dream)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>17-11-2009, 17:22:57</strong>
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				The rain tapered off as he made his way down the street, closer to his own apartment, how could it not, he wasn't sulking or desiring rain anymore, with the hot fresh coffee in his hand and the prospect of getting into his apartment his mood was taking a turn for the better. He would try to finish that blasted compositional score, it was due in two days and his perfectionist nature was driving him to insanity with it, so many little details, and the fact that it was going to be played by a symphony and not just he himself. A block from his home he took a sip of the coffee, feeling the black liquid warm him from the inside out as he did, the rain only a slight drizzle now.<br><br>"Birds flying high, you know how I feel, sun in the sky, you know how I feel...Breeze drifting on by, you know how I feel....Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life...foooor me. And I'm...feeling...gooood..." he sang to himself, shoulders shifting with the beats that he could hear in his mind. After all it wasn't like there was anyone around him at the moment to hear his rather odd music obsession. One of the things he loved about his street was how lazy it could be at this mid afternoon point, at night it would be busy, like every part of the city was really, but for now it was just him and the rain. His voice was as trained as the rest of his musical abilities, a smooth, perfectly modulated sound that often soothed or lulled others. It had certainly gotten him laid plenty of times. <br><br>He mounted the steps of his building, reaching for his keys as he shook his head to rid some of the water from his tousled hair. Only he didn't have to, the door was opened from the inside by Mrs. Dodd, the middle aged woman who lived down the hall from him. She had a bright smile on her lips, her familiar blue eyes welcoming. Silas usually didn't put up with people too much, but Mrs. Dodd was an exception, she was a sweet soul and had, upon his moving into the building, plied him with some of his homemade baking. When it had been clear last Thanksgiving that he had no intention of going 'home' she had convinced him to come over to her home, treating him like one of the family. It was odd, but nice, like the memories of his mother before she had passed away. Mr. Dodd was only a few steps behind her, umbrella in hand. <br><br>"I don't think you'll need that Mr. Dodd..." Silas said, one of his rakish smiles stretching his lips. Mrs. Dodd laughed, shaking her head, her copper colored hair shifting with it. <br><br>"You always have such an uncanny knack with the weather Silas." She commented, stepping out of the building, doing the last button of&nbsp; her fashionable peat coat. <br><br>"I just listen to what my gut tells me is all." he tried brushing off the comment, taking a drink of his coffee. She however noticed his coffee and then the pizza box and shook her head. <br><br>"You really do need to eat better, we are going to the ballet tonight but tomorrow come over, I'll make my&nbsp; home made lasagna that you love so much."<br><br>"You know I can't turn down that, you are going to spoil me if I don't watch it." he replied, his blue eyes gleaming with good humor, it was nice, to let this woman try to mother him. One of the few times he let his guard down enough to actually enjoy being around people. She just smiled, in that soothing way that she had, the way his mother had had. Mr. Dodd clapped him on the shoulder and Silas nodded politely to him. <br><br>"It amuses me to no end that a Brit is all about Italian food." <br><br>"Aye, well I've always been an odd one." <br><br>"Thanks again for the tickets boy, its made her worlds of happy."<br><br>Silas spied the taxi pulling up and shrugged, giving the tickets for one ballet performance was really a small thing, his father sent him gifts like that all the time. He knew the Dodds would enjoy it, and it was simple enough for people who fed him, put up with him and seemed to actually like him. Part of him dimly wondered if he was perhaps bribing them. <br><br>"Go, enjoy."<br><br>"Oh, Silas..." Mrs. Dodd paused half way down the stairs, glancing back up at him. "Your friend arrived, he's waiting for you in your apartment."<br><br>"My..friend..." he murmured the words, a frown coming to his handsome face. The Dodd's were half way to the taxi now but Mr. Dodd paused at the tone he had spoken in.<br><br>"You did invite someone over didn't you lad?" The older man had a look of concern, his gruff tone protective and offering help. Silas felt a moment of thanks and then shoved the idea of confessing that no, he hadn't, away. No reason to mix the nice couple up with whatever was going on. <br><br>"Oh, yeah, just spacing for a moment. See you guys tomorrow night." The male lied easily and slipped into the building, shutting the door behind him. Someone was waiting for him in his apartment, which meant likely someone from his father. Well there went his afternoon, his mood darkened but he held off on the rain, keeping it back, he didn't want to ruin the afternoon for the Dodds. Instead he drained his coffee in the lobby and then devoured the pizza in neat work, discarding both containers in a nearby trash can before heading upstairs. <br><br>He was not going to be dragged off to some sodding circus of 'family' for the press, or for his father's company, he had his score to complete. His fingers twitched at the though, small lightning sparks dancing between them, the air around him seeming to crackle. Silas paused in the hallway when he heard the faint strains of his piano, his baby, being played, his newest work. His scowl deepened and instead of waiting to open the door the normal way he used a spark of lightning to unlock and swing the door open, ambient energy, like a storm, radiating around him as he stormed into his breached haven. After all if it was someone from his father they knew his power, no reason to hide it and every reason to use it to get the ass to get the fuck out. <br><br>"Whoever the fuck you are step away from the piano. I don't care how much my bastard of a father is paying you, get the fuck out of my home before I fry your brains."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Day the World Went Away... (Aerys and Wistful Dream)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aerys</strong> on <strong>19-11-2009, 04:59:26</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Perhaps it would have been courteous to stop his playing when the other boy burst into the room. Perhaps it would have been wise to acknowledge the dazzling bolts of blue dancing between the palms of his victim. Gabriel could feel the kinetic energy roiling around Silas, pouring off of him in droves like some kind of ticking bomb. And yet...and yet, Sylar continued playing, fingers exchanging positions, shifting fluidity from chord to chord, until he reached the abrupt ending of the work in progress. Easy on the ears, surely, but it was lackluster, dull, unsurprising.<br><br>“You should scrap this,” Sylar said at length, the timbre of his voice rich and rolling, almost musical in its delivery. “No matter how much you try to work it, my dear Silas, you'll never find a satisfying end product.”<br><br>Slowly, he rose from the bench. His movement was lethargic as he pulled off the cap and tossed it atop the piano, one hand sweeping back through his dark hair with an air of unequivocal indolence. Outside, he heard a distinct crack of thunder rippling through the streets, prompting a sneer to slip across his features. “Temper, temper. There's no reason for you to get so upset. Not yet, in any case.” <br><br>He showed little regard for the menacing sparks crackling from the far side of the room, his poise remaining nonchalant once he settled onto the arm of Silas' couch. “And I'm afraid I don't have the pleasure of knowing your father; he sounds like quite a charming man. I have a feeling we would get along.” From the sound of things, their relationship was less than adequate, and for that Gabriel almost found himself sympathizing with Ardun. His own parents had been sorry excuses for human beings, certainly, always asking far too much of him, always ignoring the special attributes their son possessed and pushing for him to be <em>better</em>. <br><br>“No, Silas,” Gabriel said with a shake of his head. “I'm afraid I cannot leave until I have what I came for.”</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Day the World Went Away... (Aerys and Wistful Dream)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>25-11-2009, 20:21:13</strong>
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				If the bastard hadn't been playing his baby he would have fried him then and there, but he would never let the lightning that came with his nature harm the most precious of his possessions. The notes played by the man had no passion, just an idle attention, nearly mechanical in sounding. It made his music sound lack luster and he hated the man for it, but it made his head cant slightly to the side, a sneer on his lips. "I don't know, clearly you can play like a robot, but that means nothing in music."<br><br>His words were spoken in disdain, the man could play, yes, but he had no feel for the music himself, beside which the whole of the score wasn't sitting there, half of it was in his head, it was how he worked, unable to put just everything down the first pass through. The man's voice would have been interesting for singing, he supposed, but he would rather scorch it out of the male's throat and leave it for ruin. Whoever this man was he had breached the haven of his home and then committed the sin of touching his piano, neither of which to his mind as a forgivable offense. <br><br>"You broke into my home. You played my piano, insulted my music and you think that's no reason to be angry? Well, I guess it can't be helped, clearly you aren't right in the head, especially if you think you would get along with my father." His smile turned sardonic then, after all he might well leave whatever was left of the man to his father's 'tender' mercies, of which there were none. He bore the scars to prove it. Just because a man was well heeled and dripped with money did not mean that he was worth a shit. However, that did mean any bothersome bodies could be counted on to disappear without issue, how often had his father's men performed the same duty for their boss? He had lost count, and was once again glad he had gotten his own place. Waking up to screams, or the smell of blood was not something he wanted to repeat, and even here, in his apartment, he woke up from nightmares, his ears ringing with the screams of the damned. <br><br>It was a particular irony that his father tired to make him more civilized, to refine him, when he thought of Michael as nothing more then the lowliest of men, more base then even a street beggar, then a common criminal, then a rapist. Oh yes, he was so glad to be an Ardun. "I don't know how the fuck you know my name, but you would do well to get out of here and not come back. I don't care if you work for or against my father, I have nothing to do with him." He sent a sliver of his lighting outward from himself, and it danced through the air, a darkly pleased smile curving on his lips as his blue eyes glowed with the power that radiated from him. The bastard had moved away from his piano. Thunder cracked directly over the apartment, rain sheeting down, perfect, the lightening in his hold crackled and then sized around the stranger, wrapping him in bonds no one would be able to break and lifting him bodily from the couch's arm, a convenient gust of wind opening his large windows, letting in the thunderstorm even as his power hurled the man outward. He didn't let the lightening fry the man, no he didn't want to sully his gift, but he could and had forcibly expelled the unwanted stranger.&nbsp; <br><br>The windows banged shut behind the man, and his door locked, fused with his own power, melting the ore of the lock in his hasty anger. But it didn't bother him, he could get out again easily enough. No, here he was safe and the man outside would grow tired of waiting. The worst of his anger channeled out the storm lessened, though still poured and he moved forward, going toward his piano, shoving the man's hat off it with contempt before running his hands along it like he would a lover, the light in his piercing eyes softer.
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