Day 43: Intercom, Evening

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

Hello! I.R.I.S. here once more to announce to you, our honored guests, that you have officially made it through a day of our typical Landel's treatment. Of course, it isn't quite over: we will now have you retire to our designated patient quarters with one of your agency partners to inspect their sleeping area and the tools that we provide them with for the true bulk of our behavioral testing. On an added note, we would like you to notice once again that the meals we provide to our subjects are of the highest quality.

For those of you feeling apprehensive about taking part in our more intensive methods, please be aware that we would never imagine putting all of you in any danger whatsoever. This last shift will be your last at our Institute; afterward, we will escort you to our Head Doctor's personal observation station to survey some of our test Next-Wave participants in the rigorous trials we put them through – all for their betterment, of course.

Once again, we hope that you are satisfied with what you find, and as always, direct any questions you may have to your console.

The nurses began to escort the patients to their rooms. They didn't even seem to be brought to awareness by words such as "testing" and "subjects."

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. (Find all of the newly changed room assignments and shift introductions here.) If you are introducing your character during this shift, you may either choose for them character to wake up before their roommate gets back, or after. ]

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[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

Spock paused in cutting his food, turning to regard his roommate with an intense, yet curious gaze.

That was not what he had expected to hear. On the surface, it would seem impossible for a Human from the year 2007 to have any knowledge of himself or Captain Kirk. That was an era before they had invented subspace travel, before the first contact with Vulcans. Earth had not yet pushed itself to the brink of destruction during what would be known as the Third World War. Not only that, but Spock had yet to meet anyone besides Kirk or Chekov who were originally from his own "timeline". How could anyone be familiar with such things in a world where Starfleet didn't exist?

As it was, Spock was currently unsure of what to make of Mr. Gabriel. This confession that he was already familiar with him did not help answer any questions -- if anything, it only created more. Suspicion would have been a natural reaction for many, but Spock resolved to at least hear what this man had to say before drawing any conclusions.

"Explain," he said at length. "Are you referring to Captain Kirk and myself specifically, or the general time period from which we came, including the political and military organizations that are operating during that era?"

The latter half of his question was, of course, referring to the Federation and Starfleet, but Spock did not think it would be prudent to "put words in his mouth", as the Earth saying went. Leaving Mr. Gabriel to illustrate what he meant would allow Spock to make a more accurate assessment of the situation. You guys was an extremely broad term in this case, after all.

[darwinism]

There it was, Spock unknowingly urging him to go on and explain why half the world already knew all about him – albeit from a different face. Sylar wasn't sure how to go about explaining such a thing without sounding even more idiotic than he'd already made himself out to be, or whether he wanted to keep some details secret in case he grew back a brain later down the line and actually had the common sense to use it against his almost-twin.

Then again, maybe it'd be smarter to throw out all his ammunition now, to use this moment of forced sincerity to his advantage and earn some amount of Spock's trust. Sure, maybe he and Kirk were less primed for manipulation now that Sylar knew they actually boldly went where no man had gone before, but given that the two of them were already a cohesive unit and that Sylar had made connections with both of them – was rooming with one of them – it'd be an obvious course of action to get both of them to be comfortable with him.

If he could get himself to be comfortable with them.

Sylar took a moment to pick up the tray and lay it unceremoniously on the desk. His eyes lingered for a moment on the closed journal that he'd left there before he pressed his hands against the top of the desk and bent over it, as if exhausted.

"I mean all of it," he said. "Your world – where I come from, it's..."

He didn't know why he was having so much trouble with this. He shouldn't have been stuttering or hesitating; he should have been considering how Spock would react to this, yes, but from a perspective of how it could make him useful, not how it would make him feel. He shouldn't have been thinking about what it would be like to be in Spock's shoes, to find out your entire life was apparently some far-fetched, badly-scripted television show created to entertain people.

Sylar grit his teeth and turned toward Spock again. He wished he could find this funny. He wished he could find pleasure and satisfaction in bringing out some emotion from this man's stoic expression, but he couldn't. Not with that damn face.

"It's all very... famous," he started, gently. He wondered if this was what truth serum felt like and then remembered Peter in the Courtyard and how painful it'd been. This was different; this was voluntary, which made it far more terrifying. He frowned. "You and Captain Kirk and the Enterprise – almost everyone where I come from knows about you guys. I mean–"

He brought up his hand and tried to pull his index and middle finger away from the other two, but found he was unable to. He sighed and let his hand drop again, realizing that if he had managed to do that, it would have just been one less degree of separation between himself and Spock, which he really didn't want to think about.

"Live long and prosper and all that."

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

Spock watched his roommate as he bent over the desk, his eyebrows faintly furrowing at his attempts to explain how he could have been aware of Captain Kirk and the Enterprise, not to mention himself. This situation was growing more bizarre by the moment; however, Spock was certain he was not getting a full scope of what their meeting entailed, or what the Institute's true motives were. There was likely a perfectly reasonable explanation. It was just a matter of finding the truth.

And yet, even if he learned the reasons behind their encounter, even if he unearthed more details about what sort of world Gabriel came from, Spock did not think he could grow entirely accustomed to his roommate's presence. Meeting someone with his face was strange enough; seeing such blatant emotionalism and Human characteristics attached to said face was...difficult.

When they were facing each other once more, however, Spock was still sitting straight, his expression just as neutral as before.

Still, the idea that they were somehow famous in the year 2007 was completely new to Spock. If it was indeed true, there were several theories that could explain it -- perhaps someone from the 23rd century, or even later, had accidentally found themselves in the early 21st century and had chosen not to withhold such information. Maybe Landel's was somehow involved in Gabriel's knowledge of the Enterprise.

Unfortunately, Gabriel was not being very forthcoming with details, aside from his claims that they were apparently famous in his world. Spock couldn't help but wonder what timeline he came from. Had the Eugenics Wars existed for him? That was just one of the many questions Spock had for him at that moment.

The half-Vulcan briefly returned the gesture, as if to demonstrate how it was properly done. Still, someone from the year 2007 should not have been able to give the Vulcan salute, as well as the traditional farewell -- under typical circumstances, at any rate. Admittedly, nothing about this discussion was typical.

Spock's mouth tightened into the Vulcan equivalent of a frown.

"Although your story is quite intriguing," he replied, his words slow and measured, "I still do not understand how Humans from 21st century Earth--"

But Spock's words were interrupted by the intercom's announcement, and he paused to listen.

[darwinism]

Sylar was more glad for the interruption than he could say, and he felt a kind of relief wash over his shoulders when the spotlight moved off of his explanation and onto the intercom announcement. Not that it was saying anything especially interesting, but it gave Sylar a moment where Spock's eyes weren't watching his every move, some time to think and breathe.

He knelt down again to pick up a couple last pieces of broken ceramic, and as he stood up to put them on the tray, he leaned forward and slipped his journal back into the drawer it'd come from. He didn't need Spock prying into his personal affairs any more than he already had, and although putting the journal on his person would be safer, putting it out of sight was a higher priority. Dammit, why had he even let his guard down in the first place? This situation would have been so much easier to deal with if Spock hadn't walked in on what he had, or if Sylar hadn't let that fake ghost of a visitor get to him so much. (Fake. That's what he kept telling himself, repeatedly and deliberately: it'd all been fake.)

But on another level, he realized that this was just like the zombies last night: complacency met with curveballs, or worse. And right now, Spock was that "worse."

There was a pause from the broadcast system, and then the second announcement began.

[ To nightshift. ]