[TM] 253: Awesome
Nov. 10th, 2008 12:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elementof_risk"He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed." - Albert Einstein
He watches the scientist and the serial killer with curious eyes, detached from their discussion, unsure why he's even still hanging about except that Sylar is his friend, and he and Baileigh did come to babysit Mohinder and in Baileigh's absences, well. He supposes he can shoot the man if he gets out of hand and Adam or Sylar one can fix it after. Mostly he just hangs around because he isn't quite sure what else he's supposed to do at the moment and feeling directionless is a new feeling for him, and yet, for once, he has friends and that's a new feeling as well. He answers emails from clients and takes a few jobs that take him out of town for a few days here and there, but he keeps coming back to New York and the loft or Adam's flat, and every time he finds himself slightly more discontent, because problems aside, there's something he sees there...something in Suresh and Sylar and Petrelli and even in, somehow, someway, Adam, that he doesn't understand, and he is forced to wonder if there is something...missing.
And the one thing Julian Sark has avoided for twenty seven years is being introspective in that fashion.
Irina used to get excited, passionate even, about Rambaldi and the great mysteries of life she could unfold if she could discover his endgame. Sloane did the same. They were obsessed, fired with it, filled with awe, willing to sacrifice their own lives to get there. Baileigh has a mission, a calling, something she is sure she will die for, because it defines her so absolutely. Suresh has his genetics. Adam has his driving need to save the world, even if he has to destroy it. Sylar has to understand everything, and has to have Suresh. Petrelli has to save everyone. They all get excited about things, animated, eyes lighting up like children on Christmas Eve about this or that, something that stirs some form of obsession inside of them.
He...plays the game for the sake of the game. He has no endgame of his own. Irina's endgame was his, because she molded him, shaped him to be her tool, her weapon, but it was only his endgame because it was hers. If she had changed her mind, then he would have changed his with her. She, then, was the endgame. He goes where the money is, wants to be on the winning team, doesn't want to get left behind in the dust with the losers.
But nothing fires him to do anything except that which he fights against. Don't wind up with nothing. Don't go back to that cell. Tell them anything. Don't wind up back on Michael's bad side. Bullets fucking hurt. Keep on Adam's good side. He has no passion of his own, nothing that fills him with awe. The one small thing that he finally grasped...it upset Baileigh so, that he backed from it, because the one glimmer of feeling that he might, for once, have found a place to belong for the first time since Irina's death and he could lose that...well. It isn't worth losing her.
Perhaps, then, she is what fills him with awe, he wonders, idly doodling on a paper. Because there has to be something, doesn't there? He's alive, isn't he? He isn't just moving through days like some automaton. He is alive. He survived. And at some point, at the end of the day, doesn't he want there to be more to his life than that? Is it enough to say, "He stayed alive for as long as possible."? He always thought it was, or told himself it was. Her dreams were enough for him.
Now he isn't so sure.
But what it is, what he wants for himself, to make his legacy, to fill him with awe, to find his own place...he doesn't know. And for the first time in twenty seven years, that bothers him.
He figures that's something of a start.
[ooc: Mohinder referred to is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
witnessof_fate and Sylar is heroslayer and prompt set in ongoing RP 'verse/situation and not meant to infringe on anyone else's playing of said muses as I know others write them in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
theatrical_muse. This prompt just fit that situation far too well.]
He watches the scientist and the serial killer with curious eyes, detached from their discussion, unsure why he's even still hanging about except that Sylar is his friend, and he and Baileigh did come to babysit Mohinder and in Baileigh's absences, well. He supposes he can shoot the man if he gets out of hand and Adam or Sylar one can fix it after. Mostly he just hangs around because he isn't quite sure what else he's supposed to do at the moment and feeling directionless is a new feeling for him, and yet, for once, he has friends and that's a new feeling as well. He answers emails from clients and takes a few jobs that take him out of town for a few days here and there, but he keeps coming back to New York and the loft or Adam's flat, and every time he finds himself slightly more discontent, because problems aside, there's something he sees there...something in Suresh and Sylar and Petrelli and even in, somehow, someway, Adam, that he doesn't understand, and he is forced to wonder if there is something...missing.
And the one thing Julian Sark has avoided for twenty seven years is being introspective in that fashion.
Irina used to get excited, passionate even, about Rambaldi and the great mysteries of life she could unfold if she could discover his endgame. Sloane did the same. They were obsessed, fired with it, filled with awe, willing to sacrifice their own lives to get there. Baileigh has a mission, a calling, something she is sure she will die for, because it defines her so absolutely. Suresh has his genetics. Adam has his driving need to save the world, even if he has to destroy it. Sylar has to understand everything, and has to have Suresh. Petrelli has to save everyone. They all get excited about things, animated, eyes lighting up like children on Christmas Eve about this or that, something that stirs some form of obsession inside of them.
He...plays the game for the sake of the game. He has no endgame of his own. Irina's endgame was his, because she molded him, shaped him to be her tool, her weapon, but it was only his endgame because it was hers. If she had changed her mind, then he would have changed his with her. She, then, was the endgame. He goes where the money is, wants to be on the winning team, doesn't want to get left behind in the dust with the losers.
But nothing fires him to do anything except that which he fights against. Don't wind up with nothing. Don't go back to that cell. Tell them anything. Don't wind up back on Michael's bad side. Bullets fucking hurt. Keep on Adam's good side. He has no passion of his own, nothing that fills him with awe. The one small thing that he finally grasped...it upset Baileigh so, that he backed from it, because the one glimmer of feeling that he might, for once, have found a place to belong for the first time since Irina's death and he could lose that...well. It isn't worth losing her.
Perhaps, then, she is what fills him with awe, he wonders, idly doodling on a paper. Because there has to be something, doesn't there? He's alive, isn't he? He isn't just moving through days like some automaton. He is alive. He survived. And at some point, at the end of the day, doesn't he want there to be more to his life than that? Is it enough to say, "He stayed alive for as long as possible."? He always thought it was, or told himself it was. Her dreams were enough for him.
Now he isn't so sure.
But what it is, what he wants for himself, to make his legacy, to fill him with awe, to find his own place...he doesn't know. And for the first time in twenty seven years, that bothers him.
He figures that's something of a start.
[ooc: Mohinder referred to is
witnessof_fate and Sylar is heroslayer and prompt set in ongoing RP 'verse/situation and not meant to infringe on anyone else's playing of said muses as I know others write them in theatrical_muse. This prompt just fit that situation far too well.]
