microwavelength | (no subject)

"Seriously." How did this guy find him again? He'd been doing this for a while now, on and off, and he'd never had this much traffic on a job and never had it come from one person. He was starting to get a vibe here that it wasn't entirely accidental that he'd been found again. At least this time he didn't have to bother with the Trickster speech. Though maybe he could still swing the novelty buzz and zap this weirdo. "Do you follow me on twitter or something?"

Some might say it's stupid to post your potential future heists in the form of a riddle on twitter but Axel liked to think of it as hitting a timer and seeing how swiftly he can rob a bank or case of a museum before anyone showed.

Today's gig? He was targeting an art gallery. He was going to spray paint some famous art for the hell of it and maybe take something cool home to impress Leonard, get himself back in the Rogue's good books.

That plan may just have to be postponed.

"No one uses Twitter anymore. You should get on Snapchat." There was literally nothing for him here. Maybe he'd bust into the food court and grab a coffee or something? One of those expensive Danish things? He did have a bit of a sweet tooth.

For now, he marched himself across a marble floor patterned to purposefully hurt the eyes of anyone stupid enough to come to an art gallery and eyed the other man up and down.

Spray paint?

"Are you like some small time idiot? Oh shit. Worse? Are you an activist? Where's the bombs this time, man?" It wasn't every day you run across someone willing to cause widespread destruction. But this?

This was cheap.

"Did you at least kill the security guard?"

"Okay first off? I have both. Do I look like an uneducated idiot? And twitter isn't dead, it's just full of trolls who suck at trolling and spambots." He still had plenty of followers there, mostly people who either baited him or sucked up to him, it was kind of fun. There was nothing he loved more than feeding the trolls or egging them onto people he hated.

"And I'm not small time, I just don't always go big. Besides, it's not about the body count, it's about the score."

He repeats it like a line because it is a line, a line he'd been hit around the head with by the rogues many times. They weren't as down for killing as Axel was and since his dad up and ditched him, this was sort of how he was trying to survive. No one wanted to be alone, after all.

"It's chaos. Anarchy! Do you have any idea what those pictures are worth? One little mark and you ruin a slice of history. Think about it. It's not what you're earning, it's what someone else won't and never will." Axel grinned playfully and took the critique in his stride. Whatever, he didn't have to impress some weird kid.

"Killing the guards will draw more attention and ruin my fun. Maybe next time?" He winked and spun around, trying to locate his targets.

What. The hell. Was with. This fucker?

Luke was so thoroughly unimpressed. He hated it when people used lines and catch phrases just to make headlines. Just because news these days happened in sound bytes and click bait didn't mean everyone had to fall for the trap of it! He might be young (almost legal enough to drink if he decided to go for it, though after his dad's behavior around alcohol, who would go near the stuff?) but he wasn't that much of an asshole.

And he knew enough assholes to judge

"So. Wait. Let me get this straight. Painting over another painting is going to throw the world into anarchy and chaos? Uh. Dude? You know this shit here is considered priceless right? As is no price? As in... Like two guys and some coeds are the only people that really care about any of this? Shit. You're so fucking boring. You want to throw the world into chaos? Kill the guards, as fucked up as possible, and leave them some satanic bullshit message on the walls. That will be chaos. That will get your fucking headlines. Or. You know. Spray paint tits on the wall. Up to you."

Luke didn't know why he was egging this dude on.

He didn't need anyone. Didn't want anyone. But it was true about loneliness. It was consuming.

"I'm not trying to whack the world into chaos by messing with art, it's just a little slice of chaos is all. It's just fun! You know fun, right? Have you ever had it?" Axel asked mockingly, rolling his eyes at this guy clearly baited him to do more, to go full on. His idol, his hero, he always did that kind of chaos, the blood and guts, the explosions and death, that was entirely his jam but he always made a point of telling Axel to never forget the little things. The small dumb pranks and jokes that would keep him amused. He'd get more of a laugh with stuff like this than a body count.

Yeah, spray painting wasn't so much a job as it was a funny little finger to this whole high society bullshit. Lowkey? Definitely but he was sure something like this was more likely to get a laugh out of his old man than the same old bomb routine. And he wanted that laughter, that history. The legacy of a Trickster.

"Look, dude, I'm not telling you how to do your thing so stop telling me how to do mine. If I wanted to do a load of edgy try-hard satantic bullshit, I'd have become a heavy metal star. If I wanna blow some people to little bitty pieces, I'll do it. If I wanna fuck with some paintings, I'll do that too." He pulled out his can and idly shook it a few times, half tempted to spray it in his assholes face. Honest to God, he had his finger on the trigger and he was close enough just to spray that smug expression up with--

"Hey! You can't have that in here, kid." The security guard interrupted, approaching Axel with a suspicious look taking in his gear with an unsettling level of awareness. Oh great. This was just what he needed. Now it was going to be about a thousand times more complicated.

With a frustrated sigh that he was now going to have to go off his fun plan and do something else, he glared at the kid in front of him and turned around, spraying the guard in the face instead. "Whoops! Sorry, my finger slipped!"

Could security guards be any more boring? He was worried about two guys here with paint when it was after hours and the whole place was suppose to be on lockdown? Luke was unamused. Okay fine. He was always unamused. He hadn't laughed or smiled on a very long time. He never had reason to. Sylar cut that out of him and left him with his powers. Fair trade, probably. It was better to be alive.

"Throw the can," Luke said. A little spray paint to the eyes was painful, but the guard was wearing glasses. That wasn't going to do them much good at all. "Dude fucking throw the god damned can at him," Luke shouted, already starting down the hallway since they were being chased.

Well, actually, he just wanted to be outside of the blast radius when the can exploded. Contents under pressure and microwaves didn't mix.

"God damn it! This is all your fault." Axel hissed as he threw the can at the guard's face and took off running. He shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled out three round ball like objects, they sort of looked like bouncy balls and then he threw them, they bounced playfully down the hallway before exploding in a burst of noise and smoke. There, that should buy some time.

Axel caught up with the other and hurried along what appeared to be an exhibit room. This was going to end up being a dead end if they followed it straight down. He didn't know why but he grabbed the other's jacket and yanked it harshly so he went right instead of straight on. There was anther corridor here.

"You owe me a can of spray paint." Probably a dumb thing to be pissed over but he was and it wasn't going away any time soon.

There was three little bangs behind them, followed by one very, very big bang. By that time, Luke had been yanked along enough to really piss him off and he stared at Axel for a long moment before his eyes were drawn back to the sound of a gurgle behind them. He did not appreciate being touched, but how could he possibly be angry about it when there was something remarkable waiting for them in the next room.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna say that when you see what we’ve done.”

Luke never did this with a partner. Okay, there was that FBI guy at his house once, but that had been an accident. Mostly. He kinda felt a little bad about it. Sort of. And besides, he hadn’t meant to hurt him like that, he just wanted him to stop trying to hurt Sylar. Consequences sometimes happened like that.

A slow, mean little smile touched his lips as Luke stuffed his hands into his pockets and led the way back into the gallery. The walls were covered in paint splashes, ruining every piece of art there, and, best yet, there were pieces of paint can literally embedded into the guard's face and hands. He was gurgling something fierce.

It was beautiful.

"Why? What are you talking ab--" He paused at that sound. That weird, horrible sound. He frowned slightly and turned his head, unsure if that was a malfunction of his explosions or they damaged something like a water pipe or something. It was an uneasy sound that didn't sit right with him and he wasn't sure why. He shot the guy next to him a look, trying to read what he was getting at.

That smile, it wasn't pretty. He'd seen that smile before on the original Trickster's face when he tried to blow up all those kids at Christmas, that sort of cruel, sadistic amusement that prompted laughter from Axel once upon a time. Not entirely genuine though. He wasn't a sadist, not by any merit, he just didn't care much when people got hurt.

But this? This was something new. He couldn't have been prepared for it. He barely took in everything else, it was the guard he was focused on. That noise, his face-- Axel backed up swiftly and nearly fell over his own feet as he backed away.

What. The. Fuck.

"Holy shit, dude." Axel's eyes widened as he watched, unable to look away and wishing he could. "What the hell happened?"

"What? The spray paint blew up?" Luke didn't have time for people with weak stomachs. He was careful as he stepped across the messy paint, already quickly drying, and crouched down close to the guard so he could watch the light leave him. He could feel a warm, pleasant tingle between his legs, but it would go without being tended to, as usual.

The act itself bothered him but the desire to whip it out and jack off on this dude as he died didn't. He let go of a shuddering breath before he stood back up and observed the rest of the area.

"Tada. Headlines for sure. Don't worry about the cameras. They've been off for awhile. We should go."

"That guy is like -- fuck. How did it blow up?" It would have had to have something spark it and Axel knew he had no explosives in or around paint. He wasn't usually this weak. Axel had seen dead bodies before, he watched a lot of fucked up movies and seen crime scene photo's of his dads work but he wasn't entirely ready to see something that horrific up close. It took him a moments before he even came closer to get a good look. That couldn't have been a peaceful death.

God, he hoped this didn't come back on him or he was going to be getting a very different rep to what he was aiming for. "Jesus." Axel whispered as he tilted his head to the side, just about managing to keep his lunch down. He preferred bombs, they were as messy but usually he never actively saw the body count.

"Bits of the can are in his eyes... or is that his glasses?" Oh. Fuck. He looked to close, he had to swiftly turn his head to the side to retch.

"Hey, calm the fuck down." He thought this big bad bomber would handle his shit better but-- Well Sylar and Samuel didn't like it when he went a little off either. Luke knew there was something wrong with him. He typically embraced it. Not that he had much of a choice. It was who he was. The other options were death or committing himself.

No thanks.

"Most of that is his glasses. The rest is the can and dude? Whatever. Look. It's done. You win. Wanna grab some pizza or Taco Bell?"

Luke surprised himself at the olive branch. It had just been awhile since he had spoken to anyone like this.

Axel managed to recover himself and pulled a face, looking up at the kid with an astounded expression. It was weird, it was creepy but it certainly reminded him a lot of his early days with James Jesse. Those letters, the things they described, the casual way he spoke about stuff like this? It was all there. In this kid. And for whatever reason, he laughed.

It was hard to know what to feel and a lot of the time, when he was this freaked out, it just came out like a nervous tick.

"No fucking way, I can't stomach shit right now." Axel looked away from the guy and tried to get the mental image of glass in someone's eye out of his head. It was not really doing much for his appetite. "I need a drink."

He should get away from this kid, he should be making distance and running. And yet, he looked at him and shrugged. "You in?"

Luke's face blanked. "I don't drink." He would legally be entitled to do so in a few months but there was no was liquor was getting passed his lips. Even during the bad days between Sylar and Samuel, Luke hadn't resorted to that. "I'll eat, you drink. I know a place."

Place, however, wasn't really the right term for it. Luke led Axel down some steps to a noisy, crowded little waste water basement. No one looked at anyone. There was no pool table. No darts. No games. No one really laughed. The men and women here were rough. Street. They smelled s little funky. The food was cheap. The alcohol was cheap. And sometimes people went missing.

It was just that sort of place.

Luke slumped into a scarred booth and a woman missing most of her teeth came over and scoffed at him. "Again?"

"Fuck you, yeah. I want a couple of hamburgers. He'll have whatever is in a bottle. Unopened." People here were scared of Luke. And rightly so.

"This place is fucking awful, dude." What? Like he wasn't going to be blunt about it. It was trashy, it smelt bad and everyone was looking at them funny. Not a massive shock, given how nutso this kid was. He'd stare too, honestly. Like people stared at Jesse back in Central, the weird ones always attracted attention and it was never good.

"I'll have vodka. No roofies, thanks."

Just to clarify that point. He looked back at the kid and then frowned, realising he knew nothing about this person yet for some reason, he came all of this way to hang with him? Talk about poor life decisions. "You got a name? I'm Axel."

He introduced himself as the Trickster before but it seemed like first names should be a thing.

"No, dude. I was born without a name. That's why I'm so messed up." He rolled his eyes and didn't say anything about his choice of liquor. If he wanted to drink something he didn't open himself, fine. If he wanted to risk the gut rot, fine. He'd been trying to look out for him. Sort of. "But it's better than Axel. I think I'd go nameless too if that was my name."

He was only messing with the guy. He figured he was a little older than him, maybe twenty-four or so. Luke studied him in the dim light. He was...off looking. Weird. The sort of guy that either you couldn't get out of your head or forgot instantly.

Luke was definitely the latter, though. There was nothing remarkable about him. Mud eyes. Mud hair. No expression at all. Just that murderous glint in his eyes, that was his only stand out quality.

"Better than Trickster though. You can call me Sylar I guess." It was a stolen name. But he liked it.

"Did you seriously just mock my name when you're called Sylar. That's not even a name." He gives the kid a sideways look because that didn't even sound real. Was it some kind of street tag or something? Either way, he wasn't a fan and he didn't like his name being trashed. What was wrong with Axel? It was a good name.

"You're not good at this whole friend thing, are you?"

He was insulting, rude and creepy. And yet, here he was, still hanging with the psycho. He supposed this was very much his jam. He was not exactly unknown for hanging out with the strange and unsettling. Especially if they were destructive.

“Sylar is a name. Axel is part of a car.” Luke just assumed that ‘Sylar’ was the man’s last name, a family name. He knew his dad was a Gray but Luke and his dad didn’t share the same last name either. He sat back in the booth, watching the people over Axel’s shoulder. That wasn’t for safety reasons, either. He was hunting.

Luke’s gaze snapped back at Axel on the word ‘friend.’ He found it confusing. Insulting.

“I don’t have friends. We aren’t friends.” So what did it mean when he followed the man around through security cameras then? That wasn’t ‘friend’ but it also wasn’t ‘coincidence’ either. “You’re too boring.”

"Axel is an old school name, dude. There have been like princes and video game characters with this name. Don't get all jealous just because you've got a dumb name." Axel teased with a playful smile, unable to help himself from teasing. When the waitress came back, Axel took his bottle and double checked it was still sealed and unused before he opened the bottle cleanly on the table, barely leaving a mark.

He takes a slow sip and pulls a face immediately. Well, that was strong. And not great tasting. Definitely cheap vodka.

"You don't do friends but you wanted to go grab taco bell with me? Pfft, come on." Axel snorted before leaning forward, batting his eyes in a mocking fashion. "So you don't do friends but you wanna hang? Aww, that's cute, is this a date or something?" He eyed Luke up and down before smirking and nodding his head a little. "Cause I could swing that. You're a looker."

Having never had anyone stupid enough to ask him out, jokingly or otherwise, Luke wasn't sure if he was being made fun of or if this guy who liked the name he had because video game characters were named thst was serious. He gave Axel a half dead look and, to be fair, that was his normal look. Dead. Blank. Annoyed at having to breathe.

But his shoulders relaxed a moment later. He put on the attitude this other guy had. Luke liked being other people. Mimicking them. It taught him how to get by. It made him fake too but no one knew him enough to complain.

"You have no idea who I am or what I can do to you while you drink that shit. Or does Prince Axel get off on that?"

"All I'll say is that I definitely have a type." Dangerous people who liked to hurt other people? Weirdly a turn on for him but years of being groomed by James Jesse would do that to a person. He fully believed that people who did these kind of things were somehow more interesting, cooler and to a strange degree, sexier? "I question it myself sometimes but no point in knocking what works for you."

He leaned back and winked playfully before lifting his bottle and drinking for as long as he could stand it. Definitely not the nicest but it was doing the trick.

"Why? You got a problem? I'm a nice enough boy, I look good in tight jeans, I got some money. You could do a lot worse."

Luke looked vaguely unimpressed. Sort of. It was hard to tell anything about how Luke really looked in good lighting and this was not good lighting. The neon of the sign by the bar just made him look more sinister.

"You just threw up because I made a can of spray paint explode in a guy's face. So--". Mind explaining how that translates into going on a date?

This guy was insane. And for Luke to think that, it had to be true.

He scanned Axel's face for metal. Piercings, anywhere, were always fun to heat up. If not, he's go for the button on those skinny jeans. All it took was to microwave the air around them and-- entertainment!

"I already said I questioned myself, what more do you want from me?" Axel waved his hand in a dismissive way. He knew he was a mess and his tastes were very problematic, on a whole he didn't tend to think things ahead and more than a few encounters socialising with those more dangerous and deadly had ended horrendously badly for him but that was just like. He was learning... slowly. He wasn't the quickest in that respect.

Hence why it took a moment for him to realise what had just been said. His eyes went wide as he paused before he could take a drink. "Wait-- what? You did that paint can thing? How?" He wasn't shocked someone had powers, metas and all, but he did that to another person so casually? Jesus.

Axel felt a strange surge of unease and he knew the smart thing to do was run.

Still, he didn't, he was just kind of lucky he had no piercings but he had a little too much metal on his clothing to be entirely. He hissed suddenly as his jean button got hot and squirmed, knowing how to touch it. "Fuck! What are you doing? -- Ah, fuck, stop it!" Axel snapped, teeth gritted. If he didn't back off, he was going to have to react and he knew that could end badly. For him. Definitely for him, not for the meta.

"So. How's the date thing going for you?" Watching Axel freak out genuinely made Luke laugh. It had been so long since he had enjoyed being a dick that he'd almost forgotten how wonderful it was. His eyes shimmered as he stopped exciting the air around the metal bits in Axel's pants, but it would take some time to cool down.

He offered the other his chilled drink to stick on the button of his fly, looking almost angelic if it wasn't for the weird unhinged quality to his eyes.

"I gotta tell you, I'm having s good time."

"Of course you are, you little psycho." Axel took the drink ad tried to cool the metal down a little, managing to pop the button free using just the fabric. It had definitely left a mark, this skin was going to blister. Nice. "I fucking hate metas sometimes." Why did the psychotic ones always get super dangerous powers? Couldn't they just get like harmless powers for once? That'd be so much easier to deal with.

He knew just leaving was dicey so he stayed, unsettling and unnerved, not wanting to blister more skin.

"Personally not the best date I've gone on but oddly not the worst." Though it was working out to be pretty damn traumatising. He kept seeing the glass in that man's eye and God, it was like the first time he saw what the original Trickster's bombs did to someone close range. "You know it's rude to straight up torture your date. You're supposed to romance them a little, asshole."