(no subject)

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

Sylar is grumpy.

And alone.

And grumpy.

And sitting out in a field. There are wildflowers. He has graciously refrained from setting them on fire, which is the extent of his goodwill towards anything at the moment.

Botherable, if you feel like being yelled at and/or mauled.

Comments

[broked-reality.livejournal.com]

"I might hit you if you do."

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

"I like that answer."

Allow him to express his approval.

[broked-reality.livejournal.com]

Sam approves of this approval.

Some time later, he still approves of it, but is notably less clothed, more worn out, and sprawled out in the field next to Sylar.

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

Sylar is in similar condition. It is probably not difficult to guess why.

He's also grinning lazily. Apparently certain activities have a beneficial effect on one's mood. Who knew?

[broked-reality.livejournal.com]

Sam doesn't stay still for long. Eventually, he starts searching for and pulling on his clothes.

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

Sylar doesn't bother with searching. His clothes come and find him, instead.

Good old telekinesis.

[broked-reality.livejournal.com]

"Don't you feel so much better now?"

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

"Strangely enough, yes," he responds wryly.

[broked-reality.livejournal.com]

Snicker. "Thought so."

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

Somewhat belatedly, the narration is going to break out the crotch icon.

Sylar, on the other hand, just laughs.

[broked-reality.livejournal.com]

"Dork."

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

"I suppose asking you to stop annoying me would be futile."