http://hardlydangerous.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] hardlydangerous.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] shatterverse2008-01-23 04:10 pm

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There's a flash and a bang and a very confused man with ridiculous hair appears, hovering a few feet above the rubble of a destroyed parking lot.

Hey, when you can cast illusions, you don't need a comb.

"...The hell?" Sylar starts to say, and before he's quite done with the sentence it's President Nathan Petrelli who's making the quizzical exclamation to empty air, settling gently to the ground.

You can never be too careful.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-25 03:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Okay, so Stephen's used to seeing that younger alternate around the Cooper house, but he still finds versions of his boyfriend that aren't his boyfriend quite undeniably weird. (Not to mention awkward! There are bits of his brain he has to lock up a lot that don't really care about alternate universes. There's a reason he avoids the boy and his girlfriend.)

(Fortunately, a lot of those bits are hiding. Scary alterna-Gabe is scary.)

Stephen's hands, automatically and half-unconsciously, go to the straps of his jetpack. That's where the controls are.

"I know you, eh? A -- a different you."

It should be noted that he's trying not to sound frightened. You know, just like he was trying to fib earlier.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 08:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Different in that he only has hair like that in the space between bedroom abuse and comb retrieval?

...Okay, that is so not appropriate as a train of thought right now that there are not even words.

"Just from a different world," offers Steve, who is wracking his brains for what's safe to tell. If he's wrong then there should be no danger in talking about his own Gabriel and the Cooper farm, but there's that margin of uncertainty in which he is in no way prepared to risk it. The thought of a murderous version of the man even knowing of his existence (too late), let alone where he's living, is distinctly unpalateable.

"Eh, I'm sorry. I should've thought." It's an honest apology: with hindsight, calling a man who's never met him by his name was never going to be a good idea, whether or not he knew about alternates. Nice one, Steve.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 08:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Steve happens to know a Gabriel and his subtle emotional shades very well indeed.

Oh shit, says his brain.

Emphatically.

His mouth says, after a frantic second: "Not a good idea, really. It's a bit out of your way. Quite a long way out of it, really."

Judging by the unconscious shifting of his fingers on the jetpack's little switches, he's in half a mind to just take off and get the hell out of here. And hope to God that this Gabriel can't fly like Nathan as well as look like him. (To which the narration replies: sucks to be you, Steve.)

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Margin of uncertainty: narrowing!

OH GOD HOW DOES HE GET OUT OF THIS. (In both the literal and figurative instances. The version in which 'this' is the proposed meeting is, unfortunately, starting to look like it resides in a seperate reality to the version in which 'this' is suffixed with 'situation in one piece and/or with dry underwear'.)

"...You're pretty skilled," he says weakly, cursing the fact that he doesn't have VADER and her MISSILES.

It fills the time until he can think of another excuse. Dammit, brain, why did you not spend less time on quantum mechanics and more on practicing generating excuses?

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
He will never complain about the self-depreciation ever again, not even in jest. He will hug it and love it and cherish it like a cherishable thing. The pride without the adorable frostings of embarrassment and gratitude and, well, Gabrielness is like breaking some raw eggs into a bowl and expecting it to be a cake.

The excuse generator has apparently come into work with a hangover. It will be disciplined later. For now, Sylar, say hi to Stevie being a big brave boy.

"I'd -- rather you didn't."

ARE YOU GOING TO KILL HIM NOW.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Shiny, futuristic and energy-efficient it may be, but Steve's jetpack doesn't have a great deal to offer in the way of speed. It's no tortoise, but neither will it win any races. (Well, back home, he also had a bloody jet.) Guess what manufacturing decision he's regretting right now?

"I don't know you," he points out. Well, he's seen enough to know that he doesn't. "And--" he invents "--Gabe might be a bit freaked out that there's two of him, eh?"

...oh, come on, who would say 'because I'm 99% sure you're a dangerous criminal'?

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
His aptitude is really quite frightening.

Hurriedly: "Yes, but the whole point of split-off universes is that there are differences, you know, so I doubt you're exactly the same person, and who says you're not from different timelines?"

Steve continues to be bendy with Sylar!

...Oh, hang on. Shit.

"...I mean, you look older."

Backtracking Steve is backtracking.

"Your hair's..." Gesture.

Give a man enough rope, or so the saying goes.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
NEW POSSIBLE DISTRACTION, BE LEAPT UPON.

"It's a mess," says Steve apologetically, because he knows how much Gabriel likes order and neatness and he is so totally ready to exploit that in this very special case (he forcibly ignores the guilt, because this is not his Gabriel). "I guess it's too much to hope you had a comb in your hand when you got pulled here?"

He doesn't have a death wish, we promise. He is actually going somewhere with this.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 10:03 pm (UTC)(link)
NO, BUT HE KNOWS WHERE A COMB CAN BE FOUND.

"A lot of people loot things from a city I know. Could find one there."

What, Smallville? Pah! Metropolis is waaaaay off in the other direction, or so he hears. It shouldn't be too hard to find from the air. Possibly. Hopefully.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
...He can't quite believe that it actually appears to be working. And that he is not currently being eviscerated. Neither situation, however, is one he is going to question lest it change dramatically.

(As he lifts off the ground a few inches, he can't stop himself from glancing in a farm-ish direction, but he does manage to turn it into a general all-around look of a hopefully unsuspicious bearings-getting nature.)

"...This way." He demonstrates by nodding his head in the direction he imagines Metropolis (or, hell, anywhere far far away from Smallville) will be. As he starts off, not looking away from Sylar, his fingers' temporary fumble on their switches reminds him unpleasantly of the amount to which he's scared.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)
It would be nice if Steve could show off in turn, and normally he would, but normally he's not flying feet from a man who's almost certainly a villainous version of his boyfriend (if Val was here she'd have kicked his ass by now), nor so nervous that he's having to consciously remember combinations of dials and levers that have been second nature to him for ages.

...The glide is, he's forced to admit, impressive. (If it was his Gabe he'd be able to enjoy it and congratulate him and explore new sets of directions with him, not fly along wondering whether he's going to be attacked from behind.)

...

Metropolis is not yet in evidence. But Steve swears this is just because they're not flying high enough to see it. Swears it.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)
When Steve glances uncomfortably back (he's doing it a lot; one would even imagine that he does not entirely trust Sylar!), he does a midair double-take. This is an entertaining manouvere which involves a momentary swerve to the side as the head is unthinkingly turned too far into the slipstream in the name of confirming that yes, that's the face he's wearing.

...Um. He's just going to get back on course and wonder whether to be immensely disturbed.

[identity profile] eureka-bell.livejournal.com 2008-01-26 10:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah. That's what they call an academic question.

Steve's shifty-eyes are lost on the birds.

...for obvious reasons, he'd rather announce this to everyone back home through a tannoy from the school roof than to the guy flying behind him, but the undercurrent is quite clear and he's already pushing his luck with this decoy.

"...We, uh..."

His ankles just tangled, Sy. There's your answer.

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