Locked from Wardens

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She's gone. She's not here, we're alone again

Comrades, I really, really, really need a drink. My supplies have been... confiscated for the time being. If anyone owes me an unpaid favor and has anything alcoholic then now would be the time to write off your debt in this way, alternatively, if anyone has anything alcoholic and is interested in a trade then my other supplies remain meticulously stocked.

Please, I really--

I need too--

Comments

Spam - Holycrap! Think you could cut back on your length a little there? :3

[grayatonement]

"Why?" [Sylar was not a patient man in general, but he didn't much fancy the idea of breaking down any doors at the moment, or trying to. Besides, he expected that the few people he cared about liking him on this damn ship wouldn't be happy with him for doing such a thing.]

"I'm not leaving until you open the door."

Spam - I CAN TRY!

[buywithme.livejournal.com]

You'll get bored, Comrade.

[The door informed him.]

Spam

[grayatonement]

[Sylar let a growl roll around the base of his throat before he realized that the other man was probably right. Still, it was no reason for him to give up so quickly. The killer planted a hand on the ground as he twisted around, sitting with his back against the other man's door and his knees bent up near his chest.]

"Why are you drinking?"

Spam

[buywithme.livejournal.com]

[On the other side of the door, there are footsteps, then opera, as Prefect apparently decided it was time to begin ignoring Sylar.]

Spam

[grayatonement]

[Sylar rolled his eyes, displeased with being ignored but not really able to do much of anything about it. He sat where he was, first banging his head back into the door a couple times, then silently. Eventually Prefect would come look. Eventually they would talk.]

Spam

[buywithme.livejournal.com]

[From inside the room there is yet more opera, and the occasional thudding sound of Prefect falling over, before slowly picking himself back up again. Apparently if he's going to come out and check on Sylar, he's finishing his booze off first.]

Spam - Tense swap

[grayatonement]

[The killer is frustrated, entirely uncertain of how to proceed. There was a reason he had used his powers and violence in the past. It makes things easier. Waiting, knowing Prefect was only getting worse? It's tough.]

"You don't have to open the door." [He yells over the opera.] "Talk to me."

Spam - FF sorry!

[buywithme.livejournal.com]

[There's a thud, as Prefect falls against the door.]

Go away! Then I'll talk to you.

[The logic of a man who's almost out of scotch.]

Spam & Private

[grayatonement]

[The killer considers this lack of logic for a moment, pauses, then speaks again.]

"Fine."

[Back on their journals, without moving:]

Why do you keep getting drunk?

Spam & Private

[buywithme.livejournal.com]

1) This isn't talking

[Shouted through the door.]

And two, I know you're still there!

Spam

[grayatonement]

[A small smirk appears on Sylar's lips, more amused with Prefect's antics than he normally lets on.]

"Then how do you want to talk?"

[He doesn't mind the opera, though it wouldn't be his first choice.]

Spam

[buywithme.livejournal.com]

[The door opens a crack, and Prefect peers out at Sylar.]

I want you to leave me alone. I have nothing to say.

[He looks tireder than is altogether healthy.]

Spam

[grayatonement]

[Sylar shifts to lean on the door frame instead, opposite the crack in the door so he can look at Prefect. It seems like it's been forever since they became close in level 0. Maybe Gabriel is more nostalgic than he's willing to admit.]

"Then who will you talk to?"