Title: Out of the Ashes
Characters: Mohinder, Sylar and Peter (Gen on the surface, with slashy undertones if you choose to see them.)
Warnings: Semi-apocalyptic themes.
Word Count: 261
Summary: It had to be done.
Notes: Written for ladywilde80's request: P/M/S, prompt "out of the ashes". Unbetad.
Light danced on the horizon. Hues of red and gold refracted off clouds and plumes of smoke, casting the illusion of a brilliant sunset. Where a sunset was beautiful and majestic, this was a child of destruction and death. Flames licked and consumed, while once proud walls crumbled down to their foundations.
“It had to be done.” Sylar’s voice was unyielding, cold and harsh in its determination.
Mohinder pulled his eyes away from the at once beautiful and horrible skyline to take in the man instead. Sylar stood tall and immovable off to the side. A chill of distance separating him from the others, though their gazes were all fixed on the same point.
“Easy for you to say,” Peter snapped back. Though he left the rest unsaid, they all knew what could easily have come next. Sylar was no stranger to murder.
Mohinder wound an arm around Peter’s shoulders, offering him what little comfort he could. Still, his eyes remained trained on Sylar’s silhouette, and the burning city behind him. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Mohinder knew that Sylar hadn’t been happy to do it either. Memories of a frantic phone call - it seemed like forever ago now - proving Sylar’s reluctance to participate in mass murder settled in the fore of his mind.
The city burned, but it was a cleansing fire. It cleared away the cloying, poisonous tendrils that had wrapped its way around their souls. From the ashes, something better could be tended to, encouraged to grow. Perhaps even for their three lost souls as well.
Title: Elle Hates the Spring
Spoilers: Mostly just hinted at facts about Elle. Nothing major.
Word Count: 663
Summary: An Elle character study, of sorts.
Notes: Written for etoiledunord's request: Elle, prompt "Spring". Unbetad.
Elle Bishop hates the spring.
Ever since she was a little girl, and her ability first emerged, it has been her most hated of seasons.
Most people view the season as a time of rebirth. The deadly chill of winter was sent scurrying away, the sun hung around for longer and green returned to the land once more. They don’t consider the melting snow and it’s runoff of slush and water to be anything but a mild inconvenience. Well worth the price of the warmer temperatures. In the city it can dry up again fairly quickly. Snow is cleared from the streets and sidewalks as much as possible, and so there is less to melt.
Nothing, however, can stop the rain.
Except, perhaps, someone with the ability to control the weather. Though if such a person exists, Elle has yet to hear about it, and she hears a lot. More than most people think. It just so happens that she often isn’t listening.
In the spring, as a child, Elle stayed mostly indoors. While other children could run out into the warmer weather in glee, Elle always had to live in fear of rainclouds. It’s not that water in and of itself can hurt her. Rather, that if Elle were to use her ability while wet, the result would be unpleasant to say the least. Again, this would not be such a problem in and of itself, except that keeping herself from harm would have require a measure of control that even now Elle struggles to grasp.
When asked, Elle can discharge precisely as little or as much power as is needed for any task. Where she fails is in the every day events. When she gets excited, or emotional, electricity will dance from her fingertips without conscious thought or effort.
Afraid that she might get caught out in the rain, and something horrible would happen, Elle’s father saw to it that she spent most of the spring and large portions of the summer inside, away from danger.
Showers are an exercise in extreme concentration and control. She has always had to be fully alert and steady before she could brave one, and even then they were hurried affairs. She can’t remember how she managed when she was truly little, but there’s a lot from those years that she doesn’t remember.
Swimming was out of the question. It carried more risk to herself than a spot of bad weather, while at the same time potentially put others in danger. Elle hadn’t so much as seen a pool since before her ability awoke, and she doesn’t remember if she ever swam before that.
Ever since she’d overheard the doctors (nasty people who could hold a grudge they were) saying they were worried she might “get ideas” with her “misplaced sense of fun” her dad had kept her far away from anything larger than a bathtub.
Now that Elle is an adult, and perhaps more importantly field-trained and certified, Daddy can’t keep her from the outside world.
These days Elle carries an umbrella near at hand if the weather looks like it has the barest hint of producing rain. Her control is better than when she was little, but sometimes she just can’t help herself. She has to be careful and cautious, both words that Elle has never much liked.
Springtime is coming around again. April showers bring May flowers, but all Elle can think about is cement walls, doctors who were out to get her and a father that she’s not sure how well she knows anymore. Bennet’s words circle her head and somehow they hurt worse than when he had her hostage. (Not thinking again there Elle. Shoulda known better, but once again her control had failed her.)
Her world had never been a very happy place, but at least her daddy loved her. Now she can’t even trust in that.
Just another reason that Elle Bishop will forever hate the spring.
Spoilers: None, really.
Word Count: 354
Summary: Mohinder is partnered with Elle again, and that means trouble.
Notes: Written for aurilly's request: Mohinder/Elle, prompt "Sausage". Unbetad.
“You’re very quiet this morning.” Elle flashed Mohinder her trademark smirk. “Naughty thoughts keeping you awake?”
Mohinder shot Elle an annoyed frown over the table separating them. Elle had been flirting with him incessantly all week. They were out on assignment, and though Mohinder would have much preferred to be alone, Company policy dictated that he have a super powered partner.
Elle had been overjoyed.
A week of petting (really all manner of inappropriate touching), innuendo and mild electrical shocks was wearing on Mohinder. Elle was a little too unstable – and to be honest psychotic – to be entertaining any inappropriate ideas to start with. The fact that she was his boss’s daughter only made matters worse.
Despite all the very compelling reasons not to cross that line, it was getting harder and harder with each passing day. Elle’s flirtations simply did not stop.
It was enough to drive a man insane.
Their server arrived with their respective breakfasts and Mohinder let out a light sigh of relief. He was hungry, to be sure, but mostly he was thankful for the upcoming respite. Elle was usually fairly silent while she scarfed down her meals.
Mohinder thanked their server and dug into his eggs and toast. Roadside diners didn’t have the best meals, but there was usually something decent to be found on the breakfast menu.
Elle seemed to be enjoying her newest mountain of food.
That had been quite the shock at first. For such a slim girl, Elle packed away an inordinate amount of food. Mohinder hypothesized that it had to do with the frequent use of her ability. That energy had to come from somewhere. The one time he’d tried to broach the idea of testing his hypothesis, however, Elle had started up the inappropriate touching again – while he was driving – and quite suggestively asked what “these tests” might entail.
He hadn’t broached the subject since.
The point was, Elle seemed to greatly enjoy her food and – oh gods – she was enjoying that sausage in a way that was positively indecent.
Mohinder groaned and dropped his head into his hands.
He was doomed.
A/N: Um... so there you go. ^^; Dunno if I should post these to any comms...