What?

for ] [ dean

not_myfirstday — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 19:11:29 GMT

[It is a crisp sixty-six degrees in Harlan Kentucky and somewhere along the back-back roads of those hollers, Elle has abandoned her nap in the Impala and is out on the beach. There is sand and water and those little buoy things bobbing in the water, marking off where too far is definitely too far.

It's probably still too cold to be out there, but she's opted to risk it for the sake of wanting it to be summer already. Of course, her braving the cooler sixty-six degrees means that the blanket she was going to sit on, is actually covering herself up.]

It is plenty warm enough.

JaLL ] [ rumors.

not_myfirstday — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 04:41:24 GMT

"Trust me, there's more to it than that. I haven't seen them together at a public event in at least six months," Elle stated, rather plainly. The morning had been spent painting her fingernails; a pale shade of pink now shone on the tips as she picked at the fraying hem of her shirt. It was all she could do to keep herself from going stir-crazy, small projects that took hardly anytime at all, but still kept her somewhat busy. Elle still managed to make the local fashion blogs; wearing the newest designer dress or some brand that no one thought she'd have even managed to track down in time. Which was a miracle of insane proportions considering she was seven months pregnant and never left the house.

The plan had started off as idle conversation, a joke that wasn't going to be more than a passing fascination that she had with Gabriel's ability. He'd been Nathan for so long that she almost forgot that he could be anyone he wanted to be. Even her.

Their vacation had been the pushing point, really. The part of their lives where they realized they didn't have to live like this. They didn't have to continue some insane charade for the sake of keeping up appearances. The logistics of it was that the only people that knew Gabriel as Gabriel were so few... so insignificant that it was almost pointless to keep him hiding. Nathan had his uses and it was always fun to bring out the toy and play with him for a bit, but it was tiring. Elle could see it in Gabriel's eyes that he didn't want to live a life in the guise of another man. He wanted to be himself.

So... the joke started. Nathan and Elle would both continue to live their lives, just... a bit more separately. It wasn't even going to be difficult. Once she started to show, they didn't want it to be too public that she was expecting. The idle suggestion that Gabriel just slip in and pretend to be her, well, it became a much more viable option. Elle was pretty sure that Gabriel was too amused by the idea to even argue, plus it meant that she didn't have to worry about the harpy Angela prodding her about a future Petrelli. It was bad enough she had to deal with her at holidays while Gabriel smiled at her with a clenched fist at his side.

The pregnancy would be kept quiet and even a few months after, Elle would have plenty of time to just settle into being a mom. Then... then she'd start the process to "Adopt" a child. It'd be a huge media press frenzy, but she wouldn't even have to do anything. It'd all just be 'handled' for her.

The phone in her hand switched to the other side, pressing between her shoulder and her ear, "No, I can hold. It's alright."

It was the fifth call she'd made that morning and she was having quite a bit of fun. The smartest part of their plan was that they were going to be rid of Petrelli. The name, the man, the image -- the whole thing was going to go up in flames -- possibly literally. The separation would start to hit the rumor mills, then there'd be some trumped up speech from Nathan about how he valued a family. The seeking adoption would be some sort of olive branch, an offering, to the press to show them - look, we're trying to make this work because we want a family. Then Elle would make some show of being involved in her husband's business. Interested in those foreign affairs, which she was, but she also wasn't the one attending the UN Breakfast Luncheon.

The other end of the call picked up and Elle cleared her throat. "Hello? Hi?" There was a pause and Elle waited as the other end tried to assure her that they'd have to do some basic fact-checking before they went with any of the details she'd give them and that they appreciated her information. It was a load of shit. She'd hang up and they'd run with it. Page whatever in their lame newspaper or some tiny scroll along the bottom of the news. "No, I understand completely. I just figured someone should know before the entire state of New York goes into some sort of political disarray." The reporter would laugh and assure her that wasn't going to happen, but Elle would just nod and grin, knowing already - far too well - just what was going to happen.

"He doesn't love her!" She'd spout out in the middle of the reporter's speech on protecting her identity as an informant. They'd be stunned and she'd wait for them to click on their recorder. Elle would wait, patiently, before starting to recant all of the gossip she could muster up. She'd go on about how they couldn't even take a car ride together, that events were split up between the two of them. There would be juicy footnotes about separate bedrooms, which was true if you considered that the real Nathan Petrelli was constantly being kept underground in a small cell. Elle would rattle it all off before giving them their clincher piece of information; she'd tell them which event one of them would be attending next. They'd write it all down, making their own conclusions where they had to. She'd hang up the phone and wait a few hours before repeating the process again.

The story would always be the same, but she'd give them some new location where Elle would drop by, some detail from a personal schedule that would make it next to impossible to ignore where the tip was coming from. One girl was so interested in the story, Elle even faxed her a copy of her date book for the week. It wasn't difficult to do and Elle would just remind Gabriel that night to make sure he stuck to the plans.

Even if he deviated slightly, it wasn't as if they couldn't verify her handwriting. The datebook matched the press invites, which matched half the signatures that she'd put on letters for all the months earlier. They would be stupid not to run the story. Reaching over the arm of the couch, Elle set the handset in the cradle. Her hand pulled against the edge of the couch, leveraging herself up to her feet. The benefit dinner that 'Nathan' was at would be ending soon, and honestly Elle was going to be grateful to have Gabriel back home.

A hand, still with the shine of pink on her nails, reached to the wall, using that for a steady footing as she made her way down the two-step landing into the kitchen. She was dying for something to eat and the fact that the little one inside of her had opted to start kicking her high, just meant she was going to have to deal with feeling a bit nauseous as she ate. It was moving inside of her and she didn't like actually thinking about it too much. If she thought about it, she was sure her ability would just -- slip-up -- and she didn't need that at all.

With a hand resting to the small of her back, she rubbed there for a moment before opening the fridge and staring into the white abyss of things she didn't want to eat. The sound of the door brought her attention out of the vast boring of the fridge. She caught sight of Nathan on one side of the doorway and as she moved around the island in the kitchen, she saw Gabriel coming toward her. It was so effortless now; she barely even noticed the time between when he was neither of them.

Gabriel came into the kitchen, the bag of kiwis sliding onto the counter. His fingers pointed to them and Elle's eyes lit up. "You know, the rumors are all untrue. You do love me." Grinning, she reached for the fuzzy, ugly, green fruit, her perfect pink nails clawing into the skin and peeling it away so she cold pick at the fleshy pale-green part of the fruit. "How'd you know?" Elle asked, putting the little piece of fruit into her mouth.

Gabriel shrugged, leaning on the counter as he pulled a second kiwi out of the bag, "All day yesterday at the breakfast. I couldn't stop thinking about them."

Glancing over to him, she picked at the fruit, raising an eyebrow, "Think it's some weird... paternal vulcan mind-meld thing?"

He smirked over at her, shrugging again, "Maybe? I'm glad I was right."

"You were so right."

His brow furrowed slightly, "More rumors?" He smirked though, taking another bite from the piece of fruit.

"They're just awful. I can't believe that they won't leave us alone."

"Such a shame." He tsked, shaking his head.

"They're gonna end up tearing apart our perfect, story-book life."

Gabriel, glanced up at her, the wicked look clear in his eyes, "I can't wait."

[too much to ask for]

not_myfirstday — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 04:45:38 GMT

[ooc: From the future of - wayformetobleed. Sylar is heroslayer, who is definitely not mine, but I put him back where I found him, and all of my efforts of trying to sort out this version's head, and any errors of that sorting, are completely mine. I did it with love and hope that I didn't make him wrong.]

At first the coolers were good. The warmth of her skin would nearly cling to the cold chill of steel, the hint of frostbite edging beneath fingernails and at the tips of her toes. There was, apparently, no such thing as too cold and Elle was relishing in the way her lungs could push air out of them, unneeded for survival, but still pretty to watch it hang in the air above her head as she tried to will herself to sleep. Small puffs of a cloud that came from her and had no real purpose. Frozen sighs.

Over time though, she grew bored. Lifting a limb off the surface to feel that slight sting of pain when the skin would pull taut before releasing from the frozen tundra of brushed metal. He'd bought her a regulated bed - top of the line. It wasn't as if he couldn't just tell the budgetary committee that they needed it. He spoke - they feared. It was a perfect system. She just didn't like the small spaces. Truthfully, she didn't like the cold at all.

The air was dry and it made her ability that much more reactive. Things around her always felt more charged; no humidity, no heat to cut through it, to push it down. Her hand would catch static against nearly every surface when she slept. The smallest pops and sparks that would catch off of her fingertips would turn her to wince slightly, the smallest of sounds slipping from between her lips, just enough that his own acute hearing would pick up on it.

"Elle..."

Of course, for him to need his acute hearing, he needed to be further than just across the room from her.

Exhaling through her nostrils, she watched the warm air coil into the chill of the room, making her seem much more like a dragon than whatever it was she could consider herself. The vampirism, if it really was that, seemed secondary to her own ability - still thriving away inside of her. Keeping her body pulsing even though the heart had given up on her months ago. Her body rolled onto her stomach, folding her arms beneath her to prop herself up to look at him.

"Yes?" She let the word draw out to nearly a hiss, her eyes bright and blue - a near match to the chill in the room and the faint hint to her lips - gazed up at him, with something akin to adoration, though upon closer inspection one could deem it obsession. Whatever this was, it had crept into every single dark gap that had been put to her and filled it with something else, a deeper craving, a near lust for something that she could never have enough of. In most moments, when she couldn't be satiated, when the blood wasn't enough -- Sylar -- he often did very nicely.

"You do realize that you don't have to sleep on the floor, not even in the cooler anymore."

Pouting, she rested her chin to the heel of her hand, nodding along with her lack of words, watching him with a morbid curiosity. He was working on something, which was nothing new, but she was tired of 'not sleeping' and even more exhausted with seeing how long it took her skin to freeze to the floor. This wasn't an evening of the game where Sylar wants Elle to stay as quiet as she could be, and she could tell that it wasn't headed toward the loud games either.

Rising to her feet, she was at his side nearly without much effort at all. The girl on the wind; a streak of blonde and a smile. They never saw her coming. Her hands rested to his shoulder, both of them folded neatly atop the other as she watched his hands move over the smaller mechanisms. He'd been fiddling with it earlier, a meaningless task that had been put on some shelf in R&D years ago possibly. He just couldn't leave well enough alone. Countless projects abandoned on the walls of Pinehearst and Sylar, well, he was going to fix them all.

After watching for a bit, she let her fingers filter to the file on the desk. A file number, different patents that had been filed, research notes, varied remarks that he never looked at. Instead he just looked the item. He saw the pieces and usually in a day he had it at least assembled. Most times the designs were flawed, things that were doomed from the start. Much like them, now stuck in the fate that they had been given. Feeding off of others, waiting to be fixed, just seated on the shelf.

Letting the file land unceremoniously on the workspace again, she exhaled, "You could work on that other project you know."

He exhaled, almost dismissively and she smirked. He didn't want to, which was mostly out of some odd pride that he'd developed for what he'd become. It hadn't been too long. Possibly half a year, but he liked what they'd become, and she wasn't complaining either, but it was rather interesting. The project had been just handed to them. The sharp dressed one said that it was a legacy project and the moody one just said that it could help. She knew he meant help him, but she wasn't beyond pushing a few doors open just to ensure there was a window to force them out of.

"They shouldn't have a chance at life again."

Elle nodded, sort of agreeing with him for the most part, but she did miss the way her skin would pink up when she was excited or the thudding of her heart in her chest when she was anxious about something that was going to happen in a few moments. Even with all the things that she had now, she missed parts that she had before.

Leaning in closer to him, she let her mouth hover near his neck, whispering the softest of words, nearly a prayer to some unknown force, "Wouldn't you want to have it all? This... and life to give to whoever you see fit?"

There was a soft sound that came from him, whether it was because she definitely heard the click of a mechanism falling into place or if the idea had finally registered as something interesting, she wasn't quite sure. Rather than risk it, she continued pressing the soft tones toward him, beckoning him toward the project, like a Siren calling lost sailors to her cold seas, she let her words curve around him, "I could make your pulse race again with the thrill of a real kill... not one for survival, but one just for you."

Pushing up and away from him, she circled his chair, the metal stool that swiveled with no sound, since the squeak was often more annoying than the way she'd wince in pain when she got stuck to the floor too many times. Perching near his other shoulder, she leaned in even closer, her mouth pressing to the soft space of skin just near his ear, her tongue moving to trace lightly to the edge of a lobe, retreating back to the cool of her mouth, "To feel the heat of my breath against your skin, the warmth of my touch along your body... I miss my blood making me warm, rather than the stain of someone else on my skin."

As she pressed a kiss to his temple, she could feel his jaw clench. That solid motion of his features that set to his temple, as teeth clicked and set tight. There was a second dismissive tone, one that had an edge to it, and it made her stand up straighter. His eyes glanced to hers, from beneath darkened shadows, the haunted look to his features more stark with the pallor of his skin. In an odd way, she felt transfixed by it, even though they both knew the myths about thrall were ridiculous. It was a seductive gaze that lured her in with that mystery of not knowing if he was going to snap her neck or haul her onto his lap.

Instead, he just leaned back, his foot hooking to the metal bar near the floor as he glanced at her. It was very unnerving to be looked at this way. Her foot rocked slightly, letting her ankle pop out of the way it was meant to support her weight, her arm crossing over herself, trying to protect the fact that she wasn't wearing much else other than a tank top and a pair of cotton panties. It wasn't as if she needed to be dressed. They weren't going to do anything and she was supposed to be sleeping. Just, apparently, not on the floor where her skin would stick.

"Do you not like what you are?"

Her shoulder shrugged up, the feel of her own hand shifting over the rough skin at her elbow as it moved, didn't do much other than remind herself that she needed to take better care of her skin. Her foot rocked back, letting her height even out as her chin lifted up slightly, "There's nothing wrong with how I am now, I just want more."

His own foot rocked, an idle motion almost, that transferred up the length of his leg to his knee, that too swaying slightly as he watched her; examined her. It was as if his body language was more amused than the darkness that he kept locked in his eyes.

"So you want me to look at that... Mick St. Asshole's project and make it work so that you can -- what -- pretend to be like you were before? Because, I thought you remembered what it was like before. No one wanted you, Elle. Your own father was ashamed. I took you in. I helped you become who you are."

Her features knit up slightly, things were hazy, still not exactly in focus when it came to what had happened all those months ago, but she was almost certain that she was the reason they were the way they were. It hadn't been him sent out after that vile man in the alley. It had been her.

Arguing though -- that would do nothing. She knew that, and besides she thought there was some sort of flawed logic in the fact that maybe she would've just died if he hadn't helped her. Alone in an alley...

Her gaze dropped down to his knee, watching it wave back and forth before her eyes snapped back up to meet his, "I know, I just thought, if we were going to do anything, why not do it all? Live, die, and whatever comes after."

His mouth twitched slightly, the motion itself nearly making her flinch in worry, but when it shifted into a smirk, her fear melted away, sliding down her skin much like the way the condensation from the cooler would. His knee stopped moving and she moved forward, letting her palm reach for that plateau. Fingertips curved against his knee and inched up along his thigh, as her own hip settled beside him. His hand reached for her hip, a thumb straying enough to move the bottom of her tank top away, to leave a small inch of her skin for him to touch.

All she wanted, was for that touch to feel like something other than a chill running through her. She didn't think it was so much to ask for.

[live this life] in regards to new developments in New York

not_myfirstday — Sat, 25 Sep 2010 20:17:22 GMT

The sound of the key in the door, the light clack of metal to the wood, sent Fred tumbling off of her lap. Short, newly clipped, nails skittered against the hardwood floors, attempting to get to Flack as soon as the door opened. His little pug nose shoved its way into the gap of the door opening, sniffing shoes and pant-legs trying to figure out if he'd been anywhere interesting.

"Whoa, hey, easy."

Even as the door shut, Elle could hear the tiny clicking sound of nails as Fred circled Don's every move through the foyer. Pushing to her feet, she moved toward the sounds, stretching slightly trying to figure out what time it was. She'd fallen asleep on the couch, watching some bizarre infomercial about maximizing closet space.

Rubbing her eyes she smiled as she turned the corner, "Well, someone's curious about where you --," Elle cut her words off as soon as her eyes had focused on him. "Uh..."

"What?" Don's brow furrowed, looking down at Elle's confused face.

Her gaze narrowed, tilting her head aside as she looked up at him, "Well, I know it works at least."

Don was completely confused. Which was more amusing to Elle than she had considered. Bending down to scoop Fred up and away from Don's shoes, she smirked, "You ran out of your own shampoo, didn't you."

"Yeah, why?"

Standing up straight, she shifted Fred up in her arms, ducking her face down to talk to the dog, "It promised me body and volume and it gave Don poof and height." Looking back to Don, she reached her hand up and threaded it into his hair, "This is an unexpected development in your personal style."

"Is it?" His eyes glanced up at her palm, trying to see what she was doing.

"Yeah, you need either a haircut or your own shampoo," Elle replied, still smirking a bit as her fingers tried to kill the wall of hair that he'd managed to earn himself. Letting her touch thread into it, she combed through the product, trying to keep a hold of Fred as he tried to wriggle free.

"Ow," she winced as she spoke.

"Please, tell me that wasn't from my hair."

Laughing, she looked up at him, "No, that was little nails using my side as a ladder." Letting her fingers slip from his hair, she set Fred to the floor, watching him once more move to sniff at Don's pants, even as bare feet tried to shove him away as Elle moved closer to him.

"So, no one mentioned it? Not even Danny?" Both of her hands threaded into his hair again, pulling her fingers through the length of it, "Because, I mean, I would've thought Danny would've given you a hard time."

Letting her fingers rest to his chest, she smirked, "Well, I think I've done all I can for now, but I'll make sure to get your shampoo at the store this weekend."

"Sounds good."

Elle glanced down to the dog, "Fred, you really should let him get beyond these first few feet into the door." Ducking down she shooed him away from Don's feet, giving his calf a squeeze while she was down there, "Come on, Fred. He just got home and I don't even know what time it is. You probably need a walk."

Standing up, she went to reach for his leash, glancing over her shoulder as Fred opted to move from one set of feet to her own, dancing around her legs as she slides her shoes onto her feet. "I'll be right back." Eyeing his hair again, she shook her head, "It's still up there."

"I'll shower."

Laughing, Elle grinned, "Isn't that where the problem started?"

He shot her a look, but she just smirked, "I'm going. You and your hair can figure out whatever you need to." Shrugging, she wiggled her foot to settle into her shoe, "I can always cut it."

Don laughed, "Go walk the dog, I'll shower then we can pick a new topic to talk about that isnt' my hair."

"Got it," she nodded as she headed out the door, still wishing she'd been awake before he had left for work. Or at least to have seen it at it's maximum poof.

considering how long I was trapped in Hartsdale?

not_myfirstday — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 01:55:18 GMT

You Crave Adventure

You don't need a lot to be happy,
but the same old thing won't satisfy you.

You need to get your blood pumping
and your heart racing from time to time.
You life for adventure.

It's somewhat easy for you to get stuck in a rut,
but luckily you are good at shaking things up!

You can find thrills in even the most boring situations.
It's all about perspective.

What Do You Crave?

[TM] 340 - For sale or rent... rooms to let, 50 cent...

not_myfirstday — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 20:51:31 GMT

Exhaling, her head tilted in the mirror. Staring back at her reflection she was trying not to notice the ginormous size she'd grown to. Baby bump to baby basketball and now, now she was pretty sure it was baby planet. She was half expecting small specs of dust to start using her as their own center of gravity. The good thing about the entire thing, though, was that she was still Elle.

Her chin tilted up, trying to look down over her stomach, attempting to write delicately by using the mirror, which was requiring a lot more concentration than she'd expected. Plus, she was kicking. Her little foot would press right where a letter was meant to go and the F would turn into a P rather quickly.

Elle's fingertip would rub against the letter, removing the eyeliner from her skin and getting small feet to stop pressing to her abdomen at the same time. If she could swat her foot away, she would, but instead she had to cope with just trying to will it to move, focus on wanting the baby to shift and maybe, if she hoped and prayed, she would.

Half-way through the word SPACE, Adam paused outside the door to the bathroom. She'd left it open, just in case her water broke way too early or -- well, any number of things. Elle caught his glance in the mirror and she paused her penmanship.

"Huh?"

His brow furrowed, "Love, what, may I ask, are you doing?"

At the time she had started, it was going to be a funny joke, but the amount of time it had taken her to get all the letters written neatly, it had turned into a much bigger project. Now, it wasn't so much as a funny joke as a labor of love.

"Renting space for advertising?"

There was something in his eyes that conveyed she hadn't answered him in any way that was actually understandable. It was a mixture of confusion and concern, but as she turned toward him, he couldn't help but break into a grin, shaking his head.

"Elle, love, who is going to be buying this valuable advertising space?"

Shrugging, she looked up at him, "I hadn't actually thought of that. I was fixing my make up and she kicked. Then I was going to write her name, but we are still debating that one, so I don't know... I just started to write. I am huge, you know. I could profit from this extra landscape somehow. I could put it up on eBay."

Laughing, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I'm not sure it'd be a wise investment. You're scheduled for your delivery in about three weeks. That's not even a full month contract."

She hadn't thought of that. Truthfully, she hadn't thought of much of it, just that she felt huge and somewhat useless. "Oh."

Adam let his fingers run through her hair, his free hand resting to her stomach, feeling that wayward tiny foot press near his palm. Sighing, Elle exhaled lightly with a shrug, leaning into him, her stomach hitting him way before her head reached his shoulder.

"I think you're going to have backwards 'for sale - ad' on your shirt, now."

His head turned, a bit, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "It's quite alright, Love. I'm sorry your advertisement is now ruined."

"It took me on hour to write that."

"You could've asked for help."

Rolling her eyes, she shrugged, "I didn't actually think about it. Other than the amusement of it. So, no takers?"</i>

Laughing, Adam shrugged, "I'm quite sure I've already invested in that space for future projects."

"Curses. I would've had to break our contract. You might've sued me for breach... it's probably for the best."

"Truly." He stepped away from her for a moment, reaching for the washcloth to help her remove the remaining smeared letters, before taking his shirt off and setting it into the laundry hamper. "See? Perfect once more."

Smiling up at him, she pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, "Of course, I am."

[ooc: Adam is changehistory and is borrowed with love and returned sans shirt.]

[TM] 339 - What's your favorite sport?

not_myfirstday — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 20:24:23 GMT

Football.

Okay, maybe hockey, but only if it's the Rangers and only if I am as close to the glass as I can get. Honestly, there's nothing to compare to the sight of a grown man getting slammed against the glass and wondering if he's going to beat the Holy Hell out of whoever shoved him.

But... still Football.

Football will always edge me over to the dark-side of disgusting platters of nachos and huge pitchers of beer. I didn't always like it either. I was among the droves of women that didn't get the sport. It was nice to watch, painful to see them slam into each other, and wince-worthy when you'd see them land on their heads, but once you get past all of that and actually understand how the game works? It's exciting.

Well, except when they take those ridiculous time-outs just to run the clock, then it seems to take forever to get to the next play. See, I know these things now, so I can yell at the TV screen with the rest of them. Which I do; loudly. Fred, our dog, hides when I watch football.

Two years ago, I got the chance to go to the Super Bowl. Which, I think, pretty much cemented my love for the game. Primatech had season tickets for the Giants and being a 'Privileged Sponsor' or whatever that meant, got them a few perks. One of which was a seat in the end zone at the stadium in Arizona for the game. Naturally, I took my friend, at the time, Don.

I lost my shoe at the stadium. Not for throwing it at the ref either, but just from the jumping around excitement at the actual win. That was the Giants eleventh consecutive win, which was even more amazing, since it was the Super Bowl win.

So football. That's my favorite sport. I'm sure if the Rangers are ever in the finals for the Cup, I'll claim Hockey is my favorite sport again, but even in the off season, it's football.

[TM] 338 - Nicknames

not_myfirstday — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 19:50:09 GMT

Her father could've come up with at least a dozen ridiculous pet names for her. Just looking at her, as a child, she should've inspired three on the very brightness of her eyes and the way her cheeks came up when she grinned. The hyperactivity that kept her going from morning until noon until night, that, maybe, just once, might have given her a teasing nickname. One that would be remembered when she was older, when she was exhausted and her father could look across the room at her and remind her of when she used to be so active. The streak of blonde hair that would run past him in the halls and then back toward him again, that could've hinted at some small word that could've summed her up in an instant.

When her ability manifested, it would've been so simply to push something related to that onto her. She was only four, not too old for nicknames, not too young to not laugh when she heard it. The way the energy came to her fingertips, she could've been 'Firefly' or 'Lightning Bug', both of which were cute and small things. The way lightbulbs would pop if she touched them for too long or light-switches would trip a fuse; she could've been called Sparkles, Sparkler, or even Sparky (not that she'd have approved of the latter).

Instead, she was Elle. Never just Elle, either. There was an implied tone of tolerance, one that sounded near exhausted even if it was the first time she'd approached him. It was almost as if her ability had wrapped itself around her name, though, instead of providing energy to it, she drained it away from him.

Her own father. Looking at her with such high expectations and, seemingly, always disappointed.

She was never his Light or his Champ, never a Doll or Princess; she was Elle. Short for Eleanor, which was as close to a nickname as her father would ever come.

[TM] 328 - Revolution

not_myfirstday — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 21:38:49 GMT

She always had to pee. Always might've been an overstatement, but in her mind it felt like a constant thing. The baby would shift, a foot pressed into her organs the right way and suddenly she had to pee again. Maybe it was her gallbladder or her bladder itself, but she had resigned herself to the front room by this point. The smaller bathroom was much closer to her if she stayed at the front room, than if she opted to hover in the kitchen.

According to the books, the baby was gaining a sense of balance. In Elle's mind, that meant she should realize that she's upside down and pressing her foot into the wrong place, but realizing it was the wrong place was probably out of the baby's area of expertise. If anything, the tiny, well not so tiny, thing inside of her was an expert on how to wake Elle up at the oddest hours of the day.

On her way back from the bathroom, Elle glanced down a row of the bookshelves. Most of them were historical texts, a few tomes of some Italian book she never thought to poke through, and medical journals. One of the shelves, though, had become her recent obsession. Her fingertips traced along the slender spines, feeling the well worn cardboard give slightly beneath the pressure. They all varied, and since moving to London Elle had been able to determine which ones she preferred.

As her fingertips walked down their slipcovers, they paused hooking a pad of her index finger to the edge, pulling it out from the shelf and peering over it. Vladimir Horowitz was a bit of a mouthful, but the way he played piano, Elle didn't mind always forgetting his name. She knew the spine though, the cover as well. A simple man seated in a wooden chair, dressed in a tan suit with a bow tie. He seemed so reserved, almost polite even.

The baby shifted, Elle pressing her hand to her side for a moment, before making her way toward the record player. Slipping the vinyl from its sleeve, she let a careful touch sit only to the edges of it, placing it gently on the player. Setting the needle down against the grooves she took another step back, feeling the baby kick into the wall of her abdomen.

As the Sonata began, Elle's fingers drummed against the swell of her lower half, the pace nowhere near matching what was flooding the room with sound. It was close enough and it settled the small thing trying to do acrobatics in her.

The record turned and the music echoed in her chest, the soft notes hinting toward the emotion that would be laid into later ones. In a way, it echoed herself. The constant ebb and flow of her ability, always a change regardless of how constant. A secondary pulse that thrummed when her emotions were high and calmed when she was resigned enough to let go.

The Appassionata in F Minor was a complex piece, something that on occasion had brought the neighbors to wonder if she had been replaced by a deaf elderly woman, but still calmed her. The pace of the piece was quick. If she shut her eyes as the record revolved around and around, she could almost envision the quickness of the fingers that danced over the keys. The astounding speed and precision they must've had, the countless hours they had to work in order to be so very perfect.

Yet, Vladimir sat in that chair, in the field, pleasant as can be smiling for the camera. He knew something no one else did and as Elle listened to the piece again, she silently wondered if his skill was something that he was born with.

Perhaps he was born with that amazing talent, just as she was born with hers.

[22 weeks] it's official

not_myfirstday — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 04:31:05 GMT

It's official, I can now call it the baby basketball, because it's not anywhere near a 'bump' anymore.

Also, there are some serious problems with my body. I'm sure it's all perfectly normal. The doctor tells me that it is. I just don't believe this can be normal.

On any level.

the ever amazing adventures of Fred

not_myfirstday — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 22:17:59 GMT

I'm convinced, pretty much whole-heartedly, that Fred has found love. He doesn't exactly come up to me and tell me this, because, well, he's a dog. That would be crazy. Instead I've come to the conclusion that my dog is in love because he always wants to go outside.

I took him to the vet today, thinking maybe he just was having 'problems' but everything checks out. Much to Fred's disapproval of an exam, he's fine. Healthy, happy, well-adjusted little dog. He just keeps barking to be let outside.

It's because he's looking for his lady dog. I know it. I mean, Fred's adorable, so naturally, what dog wouldn't want him to share a bowl of water with?

I'm just tired of going outside every time he thinks there's another dog outside. He's staring out the window, which I think is going to give him a complex. My little Fred will have anxiety waiting around for his girlfriend.

PS - How crazy is it that the first thing I update in this thing, in such a long time, isn't even about me, but my dog?

[TM] 319 - Friday

not_myfirstday — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 04:36:50 GMT

Her fingers tousled through his hair, the smirk on her features a bit broader than usual. Circling around the chair, she leaned forward, into the face of the man before her.

"What day is it?"

"Friday."

***

The dark blue of her skirt offset the black of the shirt she had on. A hip resting against the edge of the doorway, where she'd managed to nudge her foot in, just enough to stop him from shutting the door on her completely. Bright blue eyes looked up at him, trying to size him up. "I just wanted to thank you, I know that it was difficult to see all of your work go up with that bomb. Providing the investigators with the blueprints, that was a real help."

Her shoulder shrugged up against the doorway, glancing at him, "Nathan-" Elle paused, taking a shallow breath to sell it a bit more, "I'm sure if he was able to assist... I'm just glad you offered up that information."

"It wasn't much trouble Ms. Bishop."

"Well, still. I appreciated it."

Her foot inched in a bit more, before her hip shifted off the door frame and imposing herself into the mans home. Her fingers skirted against the door as she shut it behind her, the guy looking very confused at to why she was still there.

Confusion was replaced with more than a mild shock as her palm connected with his chest, sending a few hundred volts through him in one concussive push.

"I really do."

***

Taking a deep breath Elle stood up straight, letting her ability come to life, coiling around her fingers. A soft blue glow cast across the features of the man before her, reflecting in the pain of glass that was in front of him. The flinch came naturally to the guy tied to a chair, he didn't know what was going on, let alone what awaited him.

"You can't prove anything."

Elle tsked at the man, "Prove what? That you rigged an explosion that would take care of the Senator? You might want to reconsider who you were targeting." The lights overhead flipped on, a loud click of a fuse-box being triggered as the bulbs began flickering to life.

In his cell, Nathan paced. The lights coming on, didn't even phase him. He was used to the coming and goings of his captors. There wasn't any reason for him to pay attention anymore, not even to the man that was now staring at him, as if he was an animal in a zoo.

Elle's smile shifted to a slight pout of disappointment, "You didn't even hit Nathan with your little bomb."

"What- you've had him replaced? Like that movie... the one with Kevin Kline?"

"Sorry... I don't really know too many pop culture references from before I was let out. This is Nathan, and he's been on his best behavior. You shouldn't have been angry at him."

Pausing Elle tapped on the glass, causing Nathan to look up at her. Her eyes lit up at the recognition, the glare of anger. He was like a pissed off fish in the tank. Her forehead rested to the glass, staring at him as his eyes focused on the man tied to the chair behind her. There was confusion that flickered there, much like the fluorescent bulbs hanging overhead.

Sighing, Elle kept her gaze on Nathan, asking a question of her captor, "Do you remember what day it is?"

"Fri-Friday..."

Elle pressed off the glass, turning on her toes to watch the door open once more. "Try not to forget that... because it's going to feel a lot longer than you're used to."

Small pieces beneath his skin.

not_myfirstday — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 03:37:58 GMT

[ooc: Sylar is heroslayer who wrote this with me. It is to take place post the events here, and is just a little tiny missing scene so to speak for their current storyline.]

Sylar: [also very owie]

Elle: [has bactine... it doesn't sting]

Sylar: [his face will heal. so, no to the bactine]

Elle: [just offering, she's worried]

Sylar: [he'll live, though he's not going to be very happy. looks like fucking Two Face]

Elle: [does like him in suits...]

Sylar: [HALF OF HIS FACE SHREDDED!]

Elle: [was thinking of below the neckline interests... and removal of the suit... AFTER his face is all betterz]

Sylar: [ ... right. sighs]

Elle: [teasing grin?]

Sylar: [makes a face, though not specifically at her -- his face is healing and it feels weird]

Elle: [plays with the zipper on her jacket - may or may not have nothing underneath]

Sylar: [congratulations. is seriously in a mood if he's not paying her and her zipper any mind. reaches up to poke at his face viciously -- apparently since this isn't canon, he got caught in some sort of explosion while doing something as Nathan. fuck being a politician]

Elle: [pouts, and tilts her head exhaling and heading over to help him] Do you need anything?

Sylar: Petrelli's head on a plate? [shifts a bit, uncomfortable, and then he's reaching around to press his hand to his back. gropes around for a minute, then slips his hand up under his shirt -- however ruined it is -- to pull a nail out of his skin with a grunt. throws it down, scowling]

Elle: [watches the nail bounce on the floor and folds her arms] I can check for those for you, you know.

Sylar: [shifts a bit, turning to put his back to her] Look.

Elle: [exhales and moves toward him, takes the shirt off, though only to just get rid of it, and shakes her head, and starts to remove the shrapnel from his muscle, pressing some of it back into place to help it heal faster]

Sylar: [winces a little as she pulls the pieces out] God, I hate this. This life, having wear his face, people trying to kill me because they don't know who I am. Because they think I'm him, when I could crush every single one of them.

Elle: [continues helping] They're saying it's a miracle you're alive. Also, according to the doctors, you're looking at the very least two months of bed rest and recovery, and apparently your security team doesn't want you out in the public eye for a while either. [presses a kiss to a newly repaired shoulder] Seems like you just earned a vacation.

Sylar: [leans into the kiss a bit, a fraction of the tension he's carrying around in them bleeding out] I'm going to be me for two months. I refuse to pretend to be him for this -- confine myself to a bed for two months just so people can check up on him.

Elle: [smirks] Why do you think he's still alive in lockdown?

Sylar: [rocks away from her, leaning down to pick up the nail he dropped, twisting it in his fingers] I could have a lot of fun making sure the medical staff actually had something to check on.

Elle: [her smirk shifts into something much crueler] He'll be so drugged up and under constant medical supervision. He won't get a second to divulge anything to anyone, plus it'll just be fun to watch him squirm more.

Sylar: [hums, amused] This could be fun.

Elle: [bends down to pick up the other fragments from the bomb that were embedded in his back shaking them in her palm for a moment] You might be needing these...

Sylar: Probably. [a pause] And I'll probably need more. My body got rid of some of it on its own. [it pretty much stopped trying to push out bits of metal when the second explosion destroyed his face, though] Guess I'm going to need to take a trip to the hardware store.

Elle: Mind picking up food on the way back? [pleading look]

Sylar: Any requests? [is feeling generous enough to bring her whatever the hell she wants -- between getting to torture Nathan and getting two months of freedom, his mood has more or less one-eightied]

Elle: [grins] Chinese from that little place around the corner?

Sylar: Your usual?

Elle: [nods] Yes, please.

[ooc] helping haiti

not_myfirstday — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 23:03:37 GMT

I am offering my services as a graphics girl to help_haiti. I have three things up for auction, and if they provide a flat rate page then I'll be doing that as well, but on a smaller scale of course. If they don't do a flat rate, then I'll do it on my own.

Here are my links for the auctions:

+ 10 Custom No-Share Icons - Fandom Open
+ 10 Custom No-Share Icons + Header Graphic - Fandom Open
+ 10 Custom No-Share Icons + Header Graphic + Expressive Image Mapped Layout Coded - Fandom Open

[comm] New Years Kiss

not_myfirstday — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 23:04:41 GMT

Rather than put up several posts in each journal, only to get a handful of comments in each one, I'm centralizing my New Years Kiss celebrations into my character community thechaos_ensues. It's the first actual thing that I'm using it for, and I figure I'll try to start 2010 being more organized.

Right now I've got a New Years Kiss up for any/all of my characters here & Elle's is here. If you are looking for someone in particular, or want to see if there's something there for one of your characters, or want to just let some hot people kiss? I am all for it.

This isn't a public meme though, this is just for my own RP stuff. So please, only comment if you're looking to interact with my characters.

[CT] 86.6 - New York is Invited Into Our Home

not_myfirstday — Sat, 26 Dec 2009 03:24:04 GMT

The special was supposed to air Christmas Morning, some sort of 'Waking Up with the Holidays' look into the lives of the Senator and his family. Of course family was stretching it, as Heidi didn't want the boys in it, claiming they'd already been through enough with the divorce and Nathan getting remarried so soon. Elle figured maybe she had a point, but it didn't exactly look like the sort of angle the network was going for. So, they'd improvise.

The filming crew had been there earlier in the week, in the evening hours to get the stock footage of the house all lit up. They had gotten all the angles, and even a few from the interiors looking out at the iron fencing that was now adorn with garland and small lanterns. It had been an accent that Elle chose, and she thought it suited the manor style home.

Now Elle was standing in front of the mirror, in their bedroom, glancing at Sylar in the reflection of the glass. It had gotten easier, over time, to shift into Nathan and hold it. No longer quite so painful, he'd just focus on some small element of the man's life and it truly was a shift. Elle would just miss him while he was away. He stood up moving to stand behind her, his fingers carefully hooking the clasp of a strand of six loose pearls. With her hair piled atop her head, wound up into small curls and tucked in strands of her hair, she thought, at the very least, she looked like a proper wife.

The network would return at six that morning, to begin the live portion of their story which would be intercut with the smaller pieces they'd filmed earlier in the week. Elle had spent a few hours frosting cookies, wrapping presents, and pretending to sign Christmas cards that were to go out to all of the right people. Truthfully they'd all been sent out earlier in the month, but it was meant to be some sort of joke, that like everyone else, even the Senator got Christmas cards from people that they'd forgotten to send one too. It was meant to make the voters feel like they could understand how busy the Senator had been, after all he forgot to send a card to someone too.

He hadn't forgotten anyone though, and most of what Elle was doing was just for show. Most of what they did, at all, was for show. Sylar leaned down, pressing his mouth to the curve of her shoulder. His breath was warm, and she could smell the hint of toothpaste as he exhaled onto her skin.

"Say bye for now."

Elle pursed her lips at him, her hand resting to his cheek, pressing her cheek to his head for a moment, "I'll see you soon enough. Heidi isn't bringing the boys until tomorrow anyway." It was another stab at Nathan, Elle knew it, but it didn't bother them at all. Heidi was allowed to set the schedule, and it made her feel like she had the control. Elle and Nathan would just spoil them when they were with them, and give them back to Heidi with too much caffeine and video games she said no to, despite all her warnings not to.

As he pulled away from her, Elle felt that chill to her skin where he had been, moments ago. In turn she focused on her own reflection, rather than watching the man she loved slip into the guise of another. Nathan exited the bedroom, heading downstairs to where the staff had set things out on display the evening before. Really, it did seem like it was out of a television show, or a magazine, with everything looking almost perfect.

Plates of frosted cookies, a gingerbread house that was set in the middle of the kitchen counter, all gave the idea of a family filled holiday, even though the house was empty. Nathan opened the door with a warm smile, welcoming the filming crew into his home. There were idle jokes, regarding how cold it had gotten, and even more stating that it was worse in DC. He gave them all time to warm up, set up, and then they waited for Elle to join them.

"My wife, she's just finishing getting ready, she'll be down in a minute."

They nodded, as he continued, "You filmed earlier in the week, Elle mentioned it to me this morning. Did you get all you needed?"

The crew smiled, and explained how they'd be following the two of them around the home, looking at the finalized pieces, which would then be edited in later to show the 'behind-the-scenes' part of it, which would be Elle doing some of the work. Apparently, according to one of the boom operators, it was going to be interesting to see how they'd cut back to the footage filmed earlier, and that he'd set up to record it on his TiVo. Nathan nodded, smiling as he heard Elle come down the stairs.

"Well, this should be fun. Is Nicole here yet?" Nicole was the host of the morning show, and had explained that she'd be taking the viewers on a guided tour of their home, with Elle and the Senator talking about how much work goes into putting their home together for the holidays. Elle thought it was a rip-off of the one they do for the White House, but New York City wasn't the capitol, so they did what they could.

The knock at the door came, and Nicole arrived in an outfit that complimented what the couple was wearing. Elle in a dark grey skirt, with a deep red hue on her blouse, and Nicole was wearing a hunter green skirt with a pale cream shirt. Elle went to help her with her coat, handing it off to one of their staff to go hang in a closet. Smiling, Elle helped Nicole join the rest of them in the parlor, where they'd already discussed starting. Nicole took a moment to run through how it would work, that they'd go live to them at specific times, but most of it would be handled back at the studio. The producers would playback the footage from earlier, and this was just going to be to touch base once more to show that there were real people behind it all.

The camera crew got ready, setting up lights and testing their mics, and then it was time to move into places. Elle could feel Nathan's hand resting to the small of her back, but she didn't look up at him, instead she smiled at Nicole and waited for their introduction to begin.

"The holidays are a time for families, for celebrations, and remembering the good times you've shared over the year with loved ones. This morning, we're joining Senator Nathan Petrelli and his wife Elle, as they give us a personal tour of how they've prepared for the holiday. Letting you into their home, and sharing a bit of their holiday with you."

Nicole turned to them, the lights from atop the camera extremely bright, but she remembered not to look right at them, and instead focused on Nicole. "Thank you so much for letting us be a part of this, we all know how busy the holidays can get, and taking a moment out of your busy lives for this, is something we all appreciate."

Elle nodded, "You're welcome, Nicole. It's actually been a lot of fun, plus some of your camera crew are pretty good at frosting cookies themselves, so it was nice to have a hand."

Nathan laughed, and Elle kept her smile on her features, "See, and here I thought I was going to be the one making the horrible jokes."

The tour started in the parlor, where they were all standing. The winding staircase that led upstairs to the main hall, was fully decorated. Lights were threaded between all of the spindles, and thin strands of garland wound around the banister. The hanging chandelier, above their heads, had red ribbons wound into small perfect bows all tucked away within the glass. Nathan headed up the stairs, moving to point them out, his hand brushing against the banister, letting his palm rest there for a moment, as Elle took the focus of the camera crew away just in time.

***
Her laughter echoed in the stairwell. It hit the ceiling and nearly bouncing around them. Maybe it had been one of the crueler deaths, but apparently her broken screams had been beautiful to watch. The woman had been working at the hospital, helping in the Children's Cancer ward, which was a noble cause surely, but she had an ability. At this stage of the game, sometimes it didn't matter what it was, because he just wanted to know how it worked.

Her body had been found at the bottom of the elevator shaft, bones shattered by the weight of the elevator itself. It had been all over the news, and with the holidays coming up, Elle assumed that meant the network would be calling her back about that holiday piece.

Settling on the steps, Elle felt her sides aching from the laughter, her heels slipping off her feet and clattering to the landing below. Sylar leaning against the wall just watching them, his eyes seeming to be looking elsewhere, but focused on something in particular.

"What does it look like?"

He lifted his gaze to stare at her from beneath his brows, "Like a Light Bright, or a broken kaleidoscope." His body stalked up the stairs toward her, pressing a knee to the step by her hip. His hand was cold, pressed to her calf, mapping its way up her leg, over her knee, and brushing beneath her skirt to tuck between her legs. Elle gasped at the immediate contact, and Sylar's gaze drifted from her mouth to the air, a smirk flashing onto his features, before leaning in close, "I want to see, what you sound like."

***

Elle caught his eye, it was one of the few times she didn't mind looking at him as Nathan, because she knew who he really was, still beneath it all. Nathan was just another mask he was forced to wear, but Sylar was still in there, and all of the abilities would just remind her of that. That and the cruel smirk that only Sylar could string onto Nathan's features. Elle knew what he'd found, what she'd reached up to hold fast to as she'd cried out in pleasure earlier in the month in that very spot.

"Okay, we're coming back from the footage of the you in the front room decorating the tree in six minutes, so let's head there," Nicole seemed to notice the slight distraction, but she was a professional and simply kept the show moving.

In the front room, Elle couldn't help but take in a deep breath, the fresh cut pine was mixed in with the wood burning in the fireplace. It was really the first holiday she'd had, and having it this big was always going to take her breath away. The tree itself filled their front room window. The lights strung through it, made it easy to see even from the sidewalk outside. At night, the room had a colorful glow to it, the light reflecting easily off of the white walls in the room. Beneath the tree were hundreds of presents, wrapped professionally by whoever did the shopping for them. If there was ever a picturesque vision of Christmas, Elle figured this was as close as she was going to get.

All of them stood in the room, Elle and Nathan beside the tree, his arm around her shoulders, as Nicole smiled brightly, looking up toward the top of the tree where an angel sat. Elle knew Nicole was going to avoid talking about that, since it gave off more religion than the network wanted to, even though the holiday was a religious holiday. Truthfully Elle didn't mind, since the angel itself had a personal story that didn't fit to the Senator at all.

The light on the camera flipped on and Elle smiled, standing beside her husband for that introduction shot, as Nicole began once more. She spoke of the tree, and how the viewers had just seen its journey from a tree farm in Copenhagen. The timelapse photography of the tree itself getting trimmed, and now, Nicole gestured to show the tree in all of its glory.

"Standing sixteen feet tall, it fills the room, and if you were here you'd know it was a real tree. The scent of pine is laced in the air, along with the warm smell of a wood burning fire. Elle, how much of the decorating do you and your husband do?"

Smirking, Elle moved away from Nathan to the other side of the tree, "A lot of it is done by the staff. I'm sort of a petite thing, and even on a ladder I don't think the tree would look quite as balanced if all the ornaments were on the bottom five feet of it. Still, there are smaller things that we take the time to place onto the tree ourselves." Elle's fingers brushed over a small gold ornament, that looked like origami and glancing toward Nathan as he smiled at her, glancing up at a small folded paper crane that was gold as well, his finger tapping at it slightly.

***
The folder hit the coffee table with a near thwack sound. Elle's fingers brushed against the corner of it, turning it so that she could read what was on the label. Her last name stood out, and she flipped it open, her eyes looking up at Sylar every so often.

"It's, it's my file."

"What I could find of it at least."

She had been torn between wanting to know exactly what they'd done to her, and not ever wanting to know how cruel her father was. Her hands flipped through the pages, but all it did was make her angry. Pushing it away she sank back into the couch, "I don't want it anymore."

Sylar tilted his head at her, moving toward the couch to sit beside her. He collapsed onto the cushions, reaching forward to grab a page from the file. He skimmed it, mostly because he'd read almost all of it before he handed it over to her. It wasn't as if she presumed he didn't, she just figured if he wanted her to know anything wasn't true he wouldn't told her that, instead of slapping the proof onto the table. He glanced over the contents of the page, then started to fold it into a small paper bow. Setting it on the table, his fingertip touched it, letting it turn into solid gold.

"Might as well make some use of it."

***

Glancing to Nicole she smiled, "We all have our favorite ornaments, things that make it feel more like our holiday more than anything. Plus, with the boys, it's nice to have things that are from them to hang on the tree."

Nicole went into her cue, talking about children and the holidays, cutting to the piece that was pre-recorded, something relating to the holidays and gift giving, the top ten toys, which Elle had already made sure the boys had at least a few of. With the footage rolling, the camera crew moved into the kitchen, setting up for the next live cut in.

All things considered, it was going really well. Getting up early wasn't exactly her idea of Christmas, but apparently it was what children did when they were younger. Elle would've preferred to spend the rest of the morning in bed with Sylar, eventually getting up around noon, then rest of the day spent in pajamas until it was time to open the few gifts she'd chosen for him. They moved to the kitchen, the array of cookies and treats set up on display trays and on the counter.

Nathan moved toward them, picking one up and taking a bite. Elle's hand swatted at it, making him wince away and move closer to Nicole. This action alone made Nicole smirk, "I wish we'd been filming."

He smirked, finishing the bite of cookie and returning to the counter where some of the cookies were waiting to be frosted. The cameras turned on and Elle joined her husband, a smile on her face as she watched him arrange the cookies on the plate. Most of them Elle had actually baked herself. It was the one thing she was good at baking, since all her attempts at baking pie usually didn't work out the way she planned. Nicole got word from the producer back at the studio, and they were getting ready to cut back to them.

Elle nodded, and moved over toward the counter, pressing her elbow to Nathan's side, a bit more comfortable around him, mostly because of the fact that it had been an hour with him this way, and it wasn't too difficult to see him through it all. Moving close to him, Nicole got the shot she'd wanted earlier, as Elle pointed to the odd face he was placing on the cookie. Her hand brushed to his, making his fingertips brush to the countertop.

***

"How many are you making?"

"They said a lot. I'm making a lot," Elle replied, stepping away from the counter and wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. In the evening, the staff went home, and Elle felt like at least having some sort of validity to their Christmas, and cookies were a start.

"You look like a housewife from the fifties."

Glancing down at herself, she smiled, "I thought it was cute." Her hand tugged the apron out a bit, the length hitting just above the hem of her skirt. The skirt itself not her usual fitted look, it had movement to it, the fabric brushing against her shins as she moved through the kitchen. Her heels clicked against the tile and the more she baked, the warmer the kitchen got, the scent of warm sugar and chocolate filling the air.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, she smirked, watching him move toward her. His hands settled on her hips, sliding lower against her thighs, slipping beneath the apron, and gathering up the loose fabric in his fists. Elle moved back toward the counter, feeling his quiet laughter at the back of her hair, "Sorry, is my actual work, bothering whatever it is you're doing?"

His mouth pressed to her neck, matting her hair there, before he released a hold on the fabric to brush it away. It didn't take long before his hand returned to the fabric. He fisted it up quickly, until his fingertips could brush against her thighs. All the fabric gathered against her hips, his hands had moved it, letting the apron fall in between her and the counter. Exhaling she leaned back against him, trying not to let herself get too distracted. "There's cookies in the oven."

With a single glance he used his ability to flip the stove off, as his fingers brushed up higher on her thighs, finding the waistline of her panties. Fingertips pushed beyond the elastic, with ease, pressing down against her skin, his back curving to allow his touch to reach between her thighs. One heel wobbled slightly to the side, parting her legs enough for his fingers to press firmly against her. Her head bowed forward, her eyes shut slightly, both hands fitting to the edge of the counter. Sylar's mouth fit to her neck, his breath heated as he exhaled with a hum.

Elle's fingers slipped against the counter as his fingers slipped against her center, as she leaned back into him. Reaching her hand back toward him, his free hand reached for her wrist, capturing it after he noticed the frosting resting at the edge of her hand. The streak of bright blue, no doubt pressed there when her hand moved to take hold of something. Now it was being taken off her skin by his mouth, as her body settled in against him.

***

Elle glanced across at Nicole, smiling at her mention of the details she put on the ornament shaped sugar cookies, "I'd like to say that I was inspired, but honestly I think I just got a bit carried away."

Tilting her head she felt his hand at her back slip a bit lower, but not too low, before he brushed across her, pressing closer to her. It wasn't that Elle minded the contact, but there was part of her that preferred she not be aware of that reaction on a body that she didn't want to be with intimately. His fingers tightened against her hip, as Nathan smiled offering some platitude to Nicole, that Elle barely could focus on.

Her attention was drawn to the fact that her husband was on national television, turned on, and pressing against her ass, starting to draw a flush to her cheeks. Her hand reached toward his hip, smiling once more toward Nicole, as the host of the morning show tried to wrap up her live broadcast portion. They were cutting back to the live feed after the final pre-recorded portion featuring some local bakeries top cookie recipes.

"I remember you baking these cookies," Nathan breathed into Elle's ear, causing her one knee to buckle slightly. Even if the voice was different, the implied tone was all Sylar.

Exhaling a staggered breath, she tried to refocus in time for the final goodbye and holiday greeting. Nicole was already smiling as she turned to the camera, the light coming on and signaling their live feed.

"That's all from me Nicole Swaranski, at the home of Senator Petrelli, wish you, and yours, a Happy Holiday."

The camera panned over to the happy couple, the arms of Nathan wrapped around his wife, as they smiled, "Happy Holidays New York."

Taking a pause, Nicole looked at the two of them expectantly, which Elle recognized from the countless press conferences she'd been to. Leaning back, she smiled up at Nathan, leaning up to kiss him tenderly. Instead though, his mood still evident against her ass, pressed the kiss a bit deeper, and a bit harder. Clearly not something approved for national television, especially this early in the morning.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Nicole gesturing with the kill the signal motion, which she was sure he saw as well, given that his line of sight was more toward the woman. The light turned off, and the kiss continued, until Nathan pulled back, with a smirk that was clearly Sylar on his features.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Elle turned back to face Nicole, "So, I think that went well."

Nicole was still slightly in shock from the public display that was just put out to everyone in broadcast range. Elle had a feeling that it'd be up on YouTube within a few hours, and Senator Petrelli would either have a slight rise in voter confidence, or a small fight with his publicist on Monday. Either way, they knew they could handle it.

Smirking, Elle pulled away from Nathan, heading over toward Nicole to walk her out of their home, along with her camera crew. She wished them a happy holiday as well, returning to the kitchen to find Sylar, eating one of the cookies.

"You're lucky they didn't forget anything."

"You're lucky I didn't tell them I was going to fuck you on the counter when the broadcast was over, instead of a Happy Holiday."

Lifting an eyebrow, Elle moved over toward him, taking the rest of the cookie away from his hand, hopping up onto the kitchen counter, and crossing one leg over the other, as she broke off a small piece. "Really?"

Her eyes looked up at him, a bit of innocence playing around as she lifted another small piece of cookie toward his mouth, for him to take. Leaning forward, he took the piece from her fingers, his hand brushing across her knee. Fingers hooked in beneath her knee and lifted it up, to rest at his hip as he moved to fit between her thighs.

He drew his gaze up her body, from where his hips rested to where the strand of pearls rested above her cleavage, "We should tour the house more often. All the places we've been, the things we've done..."

Pouting slightly, she leaned forward, brushing her mouth to his for a moment, then pulling back to whisper, "Or we could just keep doing it more."

"That works too."

"I thought so," Elle replied with a smirk before picking up where their kiss that morning had barely started.

[ooc: Sylar|Nathan is heroslayer, used with love and not so much permission but an understanding that I promise to be nice to him and put him back when I'm done.]

[holidays] gifts

not_myfirstday — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 04:48:26 GMT

By Your Side: Merry Christmas Adam! - Love - Elle

Live This Life: Merry Christmas Don! - Love - Elle

Just A Little Lie/Grace the Tide/Way for Me to Bleed: Merry Christmas Sylar! - Love - Elle (Yes, Even the Senator will end up with something in the driveway from his wife)

Hope to Sorrow: Merry Christmas Dean!

Take a Step Back: Merry Christmas Pain in My Ass! (Kidding! Now go let the dog out so Sam doesn't have to do it again) - Love Elle

Elle Bishop is Smarter Than You

not_myfirstday — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 06:02:45 GMT

11:20 All I'm supposed to do is replace one skirt and set of heels. So, why have I picked out six? #JustaLittleLie #

[shopping] it was fun

not_myfirstday — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 03:31:01 GMT

I went shopping today! Yay!
I bought a lot of things! Yay!

None of it was for other people though, and I'm pretty sure that I should've been doing that a lot earlier.

Watch me break out the color printer and start making coupons for everyone, I'll do it too!

At least I got a cute sweater-vest?

[MBS] 41.04 Accent

not_myfirstday — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 02:14:55 GMT

Being polite Elle smiled, knowing that listening to the gentleman was much easier than actually trying to understand what he was saying, as he tried, in broken English, to wish her and her husband - "Hepp-hee Haulidaze".

[TM] 313 - New

not_myfirstday — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 23:21:31 GMT

Sam didn't like Christmas. She had heard that particular phrase worded so many different ways over the past few years that she wasn't going to blink when she heard Oliver relay it to Cordelia over the phone. Ollie was just dropping off some new something-or-other, and for the moment Elle was relieved that she actually worked somewhere that didn't have a company Christmas party.

Sam didn't like Christmas, so there was no real need for anyone to figure out what to get their cranky boss for a gift. There wasn't any argument whether or not they should put an angel on top of a small rinky-dink tree in the Hub or a star. There wasn't even mistletoe to get accidentally stuck under, creating a future awkward moment between co-workers.

Sam didn't like Christmas, so the holiday ceased to exist for the most part. It wasn't too difficult to get used to, and after the first two years it was pretty much standard protocol. On the plus side, it actually helped their jobs. For one reason or another, there was always something insane going on around Christmastime. Some hazardous event bringing all kinds of trouble right to their door. Elle wondered if, secretly, that was the reason Sam hated Christmas, but she never asked.

Slouching in her chair near her desk, she swiveled the seat back and forth a few times. Chewing on her bottom lip she watched the shadows move around against the frosted glass windows of Sam's office. He was always working, always trying to find some mysterious point in time that was going to have all of his answers. Elle was positive he was looking for someone, but she hadn't sorted out the who of it yet.

Sitting up straighter, she tugged at the hem of her skirt, trying to sort out if she should go talk to him or just head back to her apartment for the night. Exhaling, she opted for plan A and got up, heading toward him, the click of her heels sounding much louder in the silence of the place.

Leaning against the doorframe she knocked lightly, "Hey." Sam glanced up at her, there was almost a flicker of a smile, but it had been a long year, and she knew that those smiles were few and far between.

"You shouldn't stay here tonight. Ollie said something about a grid protocol being tested? He's got some crazy idea about tracking everything, which I think is his way of trying to figure out where he puts something when he can't find it." It was all smalltalk, and mostly it was her talking to Sam, who wasn't paying attention to her. That was another thing Sam didn't like; distractions.

"Christmas and distractions," Elle murmured under her breath. That, however, caught Sam's attention.

His brow furrowed, "Huh?"

Elle smirked, ducking her head a bit as she moved into his office, "You don't like Christmas... or distractions." Repeating it, Elle at least didn't it sounded bad, truthful, but not bad. "I just think that with how hectic the next few days are looking to be, you should take the time off where you can."

Popping up a shoulder in a half-shrug, she moved to the other side of his desk, and slipped her hand into his. It was one of the few advantages she had with him, she wasn't afraid of him pulling away from her. The first few times, she'd taken it personally, but after a while she just realized it was who he was.

He glanced down at her, then to her hand - holding tight to his, "Elle..."

Looking up at him, she gave him a look, "That, actually, isn't going to work. Do you want Ollie to be able to track you around this place, from New York?"

Sam chuckled, which was good to hear, "Probably not."

Elle took a few steps backward, tugging him by the hand, "Come on Agent, you've got to actually move your feet to accomplish something, since I'm small and not able to carry you."

***

Turning the key in the lock, she pushed the door open with Sam following behind her. Keys still in her hand, scraped against the wall as she flipped the lights on, before she left them in a small glass bowl near the door. Moving through the apartment, she flipped on a few more lights, before tossing her coat over a chair in the kitchen. Sam was still hovering in the living room, as she made with her usual routine.

"Elle? Do you hate Christmas too?"

"Hmmm?" Elle popped back into the room where Sam was, "What do you mean?"

"Christmas is in, like, five days and your place looks like it always does. I know Cordelia and Ollie sent you a card. I mean they sent me one."

Shrugging, Elle thought about it, "I actually like Christmas, but it's odd to spend most of my day at work not talking about the Holiday as anything but work, and then coming home and trying to treat it like a Holiday. The first year I had a tree, but after that it was just odd."

Exhaling, she moved over toward him, resting her hands to his chest, "It's not your fault, so stop looking like a wounded puppy."

His hands closed around her wrists, lifting them away from him for a moment, "Go get your coat."

***

"You realize it's ugly, right? I mean, honestly, it's the worst thing I've seen."

Sam laughed, a real laugh, which Elle felt really touched to be the reason for. Tilting her head, she tried to see if she could straighten it, but it was beyond any help.

"Last tree in Lawrence and you just had to get it for me," Elle laughed, moving toward the small box of glass ornaments she pulled out of storage.

"It wasn't the last one; there was that dead one too."

Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she glanced over at him, "Right! I forgot about the 'future fireplace kindling' tree." Her fingers slipped the small metal hook into the top of the ornament, moving to hang it off one of the branches that looked like it could support the slight weight.

"Sam?" Elle paused her decorating for a moment, "Who are you looking for out there?"

"Someone who doesn't know I'm looking." His answer was so rehearsed, like he'd been prepared for someone to ask him for so long, that the answer was just instinct. Elle just nodded, and returned to hanging up the ornaments.

***

Seated on the couch beside Sam, Elle looked at the small tree that now took up the spot where her coffee table usually went. The colored lights casting a warm glow to the room, highlighted with reds and greens that reflected on the glass of the photographs she had on the walls. Exhaling she leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands, elbows pressed to her knees. The weight of Sam's hand rested to her back, lightly resting there. It had been a while since she'd had her own tree, and she'd never had someone to actually take the time to make sure she had one.

Shifting a bit, she glanced back over to him, "This was nice of you, Sam." His hand slid against her back, curving to her side as he pulled her closer to him. Toppling over a bit, she leaned against him, knowing that despite all the warning signs against it, Sam needed this connection as much as she did. They didn't work the same way as other people, and maybe that was why they could get away with hassling each other. Maybe it was why she wanted to make sure he was taken care of.

Leaning up, Elle pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Thank you." As her words murmured against his jaw, his hand moved to cradle against her cheek, shifting his body so that he could kiss her fully, letting her breathe him in along with the fresh pine needle scent in the air.

"Merry Christmas, Elle."

Pulling back, Elle glanced to him, "You don't like Christmas."

"Good thing it's not for another few days, because, apparently, I don't like distractions either."

Lifting an eyebrow, Elle had to smirk, "I'm pretty sure that's what I got hired to be."

Sam ducked his head for a moment, trying to hide a laugh, "I'll have to check your paperwork."

"You do that," Elle remarked before returning to their kiss.

[ooc: Sam is imnot_likeyou and is borrowed by request. Set in whatyou_wanted]

[holidays] just awaiting those

not_myfirstday — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 21:06:56 GMT

Pick something to do with Elle for the holidays! I have a list of Holiday activities that Elle would like to do, and you can select the verse, timeline, format and activity! Just comment here and let me know! No limits! Even if I don't get to all of them now, I will save them and go back to them when I'm stuck for Flashbacks or variations, just like I do for all of these

* Ice Skating
* Make a Snowman
* Bake Cookies
* Wrap Presents
* Christmas Shopping
* Seeing the Lights (NY)
* Seeing the Tree (NY)
* Fireplace Enjoying
* Decorating the Tree
* Hanging up Lights
* Something Else!!

[I am not a big fan of Christmas, personally, because I worked in retail forever and now I work at a radio station that plays, "All Christmas - Thru Christmas" and I must say the word Christmas at least 3,000 times in a month. However, having a character that adores the holiday and the weather means I have to tolerate it just a bit each year. Which is what I'm doing with this! It's also why there aren't many options, since I can't think of many.]

[tis the season] for some love and affection

not_myfirstday — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 19:38:51 GMT

If you want to give her some attention, feel free to do so right here!

[there's a meme in someone else's journal, but I figured it'd be easier for me to just keep track of things in here, versus elsewhere. Also the manip I did at work makes me laugh at how almost odd it looks]

[TM] 312: 36 - What is the most important value you can pass onto your child?

not_myfirstday — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 00:25:47 GMT

Humming to herself, Elle moves her hand along the counter. The smooth marble feels cold beneath her palm, before she plants her hand there, reaching up toward the top cabinets. If she was a bit younger, she might climb up onto the counter, instead she just presses up onto her tiptoes, trying to use a fork to pull the box of tea down.

As it fell to the counter, she smiled at herself, pleased that her efforts paid off. Setting the fork down, she set it perpendicular to the counter, adjusting it slightly. Her fingernails picked at the thin plastic wrapped around the box, feeling it split beneath her touch and crackle in the silent air. A piece of it stuck to her hand, the static in the air always a bit more familiar to her. Shaking her hand she let the slip of wrapper fall to the floor, positive it was going to be stuck to her leg if she'd just look.

She should look, but it was almost better to just think it was true, rather than get confirmation that she was right. Mostly because there was a chance she was wrong, and she really hated being wrong.

The tea was fragrant, the bag being lifted to beneath her nose so she could smell it. A light hint of lavender was going to help calm her down, let her sleep the night through. Ever since Angela and Noah had been to the house, she'd felt more anxious, and the news that she was pregnant hadn't exactly eased her mind. Setting the bag in the empty tea cup, she moved to fill the kettle with water.

As she set it on the stovetop she thought about the baby, how it was barely the size of anything at the moment. Tiny and not nearly as insignificant as something that small usually was. It was those small things though, the ones no one took the time to notice that were always the most important. A crack in a smooth finish, that could splinter into weakness. A single mistake, a word misspoken, or a glance caught unawares; all could strip something down in a single second and make the rest of a plan completely fruitless.

Elle knew that it was the small things that added up into the larger picture, and those text messages; no matter how irritating, the insistence of Bennet and Angela; no matter how unwanted, were pieces to something bigger. That bigger thing that had spun out of their own hands, and she knew that if anyone was going to be their salvation, it was going to be Adam. He'd show them the error of their ways, and make them understand how foolish they had been to put their trust into something that wasn't completely theirs.

It was the annoying piece of plastic, it was something she knew to be true, and yet she didn't want to be right about this. She didn't want their salvation to be her husband, the father of her child. It didn't seem fair, but above anything, Elle wanted assurance though, that the child, the small thing inside of her now, wasn't going to be raised into a world where there was risk of being caught, of being persecuted for who she was or wasn't. She wanted to let their child be whoever they were, and not worry that someone would find out and turn them in, or want them as part of some experiment. It was important to her, to know that the safety she felt now, was going to be there for as long as her child needed it.

As the kettle whistled, it pulled her out of her moment of thought, returning to fix herself the cup of tea. Taking a breath, she smiled at the smell of it, her fingers pulling at the string lightly. Grabbing a saucer, she set it over the top of the cup for a moment. As the tea steeped, she thought about the world she wanted her child to grow up in. Removing the saucer, she pulled the bag out, setting it in a spoon as she wound the string around the bag. Setting the spoon and bag on the saucer, she picked up the cup, bringing it to beneath her nose.

Shutting her eyes, she inhaled deep, the scent of the tea being far more appetizing than the actual taste. Exhaling, she set the cup down in the sink, knowing that she needed more than just tea to ease her mind at this point.

Elle knew she needed to know if the plastic was there or not, but she just didn't want to look.

[fun times] with false definitions

not_myfirstday — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 07:45:07 GMT

	Elle -- [adjective]: Insatiable to the point of crazy
'How will you be defined in the Sexual Dictionary?' at QuizUniverse.com