She was being so nice all of a sudden it was giving him whip lash. Most of the heroes he’d faught against in the day were still giving him trouble. The ones that weren’t trying to kill him or lock him away forever, were keeping at a safe distance. Honestly, it felt like he’d had more human based communication when he’d been a crazy psychopathic murder. “Great, let’s go,” Sylar said, walking back towards the door, “Do you have a car, or are we just gonna fly there?” He wasn’t above giving her a piggy back ride.. In fact, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
The transition from enemies to… not enemies was awkward, to say the least. Claire knew she would struggle to find footing in this new arrangement, if she could even call it that. But if she wanted to show him she was serious about putting in the effort to accept his changes, she had to, you know, actually put in the effort.
She pointed to a blue pickup truck, parked in the street. It wasn’t brand new, but it was new to her. “Right there. Unless you’d rather fly.” An eyebrow lifted. “Can you even do that?” Nathan could fly, which was a bit of a sore memory with her, still, but she didn’t think that Sylar had taken that ability from her biological father.
She had just gotten Simon back down after a diaper change, though Sophie was in her arms and wide awake still. So when she heard the ringing she made a flustered noise and rushed to the laptop as quick as she could without jostling the newborn.
"Oh. Ohoo. Claire! Claire hi! Oh my gosh this ‘s a nice surprise."
Claire’s hands clapped up over her mouth when the call was answered. ”Oh, crud! You’d think I’d remember the time zone differences by now. I didn’t wake them, did I?” Her eyes and ears set about trying to detect signs of tired, fussy newborns.
Nikolai arched an eyebrow, barely managing to contain a grin. “For someone who didn’t do something, you’re looking a little bit guilty.”
Her slightly suspicious expression softened, and she shrugged. “Force of habit? Guilty conscience?” Claire let her hands slip into her pockets.
“Pick whatever reason you like, I guess.” Just so long as that didn’t include realizing that the broken gadget in the next room over, the very high-tech and very expensive one, was her doing.
“If it was not obvious before, I am patrolling the Greenwood.
Is there something that you need?”
"The Greenwood?" Sheesh, maybe she should’ve taken that left turn at Albuquerque, after all.
Claire was about to ask what state she was in, but then she took another look at the… elf? Oh, boy.
Yeah, definitely not the right neighborhood, possibly not even the right planet. “I’m a bit lost. Where, exactly, is the Greenwood?”
SEND ME “TRUTH” OR “DARE” (NSFW VERSION) I’ll generate a number from 1-29 from the appropriate list for my muse to carry out the action!
Spent the rest of the day dressed as a maid
"I guess I’ll be using that old Halloween costume, after all. I’d better go change…" When she returns, she’ll be dressed in this… and feeling pretty self-conscious about it.
I’ll generate a number from 1-29 from the appropriate list for my muse to carry out the action!
If we kissed:
 This wouldn’t happen.
 Oh disgusting.
 Again, again.
 Kiss you back.
 Let’s take this to the bedroom.
 Slap/Push you away.
If you asked me out I’d say:
 Um no.
 HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.
Can we cuddle?:
 Let’s do it.
 No. You can’t handle my d.
 FUCK YES.
Should you reblog this?:
 Yes. I want to send you one.
"It wasn’t me."
Spoiler alert: it might have been her.
But she may have hidden the evidence.
Pretty sure that shipping my ship means I have to RP with you and be your friend and stuff. I don’t make the rules!
"Please, don’t look at my butt."
Hey… at least she’s not mad.
Steph chuckled soft and low before nodding and pulling the covers back. “Yeah, come on.” She scooted over to make room for Claire on the bed.
Her grin didn’t fade as she moved to crawl into bed with Steph, shifting to get comfortable. ”Thanks. Sometimes it’s just really nice to lay with someone else.”
"Like—" Claire knew exactly what Stephanie was talking about; she couldn’t deny.
"No, I guess they don’t."
"Whatever you might think of us in the thirties and forties, we weren’t prudes. I did…a little experimentation during the war. I fell for a gorgeous British woman, but it, uh, didn’t work out." She smiled sadly, then shook her head. "Being put on ice for seventy years puts a little damper on one’s social life."
She brightened a little. “But I’d like to see how dating goes in this decade. Do people still go dancing?”
"I’m sorry it didn’t work out," said Claire, and she meant it. "I’m glad that you’re here, though, however unfortunate the circumstances are for that being possible."
She smiled, thinking the question over. ”Hmm, I don’t think it’s the same nowadays, going out dancing. Mostly it’s just people grinding on each other.” Her nose wrinkled. ”Not really my kinda thing. I mean, it’s fun every now and then… but I think I’d prefer something a little classier.”
"No, it was supposed to be a joke." Claire crosses her arms. "Fine. Maybe not cool, but less terrible.”
"Hey," the Master says defensively, pointing a long, black fingernail at Claire. "I have not mutilated or murdered you in like, forever. I don’t want to hear a word of complaint out of you."
Yeah, that’s Claire rolling her eyes. ”Because I haven’t been around to let you do that stuff.”