[ Sylar receives a video of Royce - or at least, a form of Royce. He's that same monster from before, a mix between a nazgul and a dementor and a sentient cloak. His hands are long claws, rusted knives that slide together horribly when he tries to grab the tablet. Royce ends up putting the tablet on the floor and hovering over it, bright yellow eyes the only thing visible from the void inside the hood.
He's already figured out he can't use words. Instead, he just growls low at the tablet, clacking his knife-claws on the screen. Answer, Sylar, he's back.
[ Royce is the only one that could possibly get video out of him right now. The tablet's on the floor, and the shadowy figure of Sylar looms over it. His voice is deep and slow and monotone, just like when they met before. ]
Alive. [ Royce confirms. Just barely. If Sylar looks closely, he'll see blood all over Royce, on the fabric of the cloak that he is. The cloak monster curls up in a heap on the floor in a corner. hat's the only word he can manage. ]
[ Blood was not part of Royce's anomaly form, but even then it takes Sylar a long moment before he realizes it's anything but normal. Whatever remains of him starts putting together pieces, but he doesn't quite make it all the way. ]
Not dying. [ Royce repeats. ] I'm not hurt. Not I'm.
[ He's starting to get the hang of making sentences out of what he has available to him, it's just that the tenses or specific words don't always work. ]
[ The thought of it being his daughter wrenches something in him that he didn't know was possible. The fact that it was Gwen broke something in him, but if it'd been his daughter he's not sure he could've brought himself to do it. Royce wheezes in a pained breath. ]
Wife. [ His mind gets fuzzy as his emotions spike. ] Killed her. Before. Didn't. Didn't want killed, before. Victim.
[ It wasn't directly his fault, the first time, but he blames himself. ]
Not this time. [ He's relieved that Sylar got it. The cloak trembles where it's balled up in the corner, and there's the sound of knives being dragged along a wood floor. ]
Broken. They, I. [ This is said much more softly. And then, a normal volume: ] Weren't them. Killed them. Didn't want to.
[ West of the school? He really hasn't been there, so it takes a moment before he remembers what exactly is over there. ]
Funeral home. I'm heading west. Southeast of the chapel.
[ And now that that's sorted, he's casting about for more to talk about. He doesn't want to be alone in this. His figure looms over the tablet until it's entirely black. ]
[ It's okay, Royce doesn't want to be alone either, especially after everything that has happened. He's curled up in a corner of a furnitureless house with his tablet, he doesn't have anything else to do. ]
Broken. [ Royce mumbles. ] I'm heading south too. Friend. [ As in, Alfie is down there and he needs his buddy. ] Friend downtown. [ But... ] Find I. Tunnels you, I.
[ So many words. Royce makes a humming sort of sound, pleased. He knows he won't be able to keep them, because he lost everything that Karkat and Alfie gave him before, but being able to pick from a variety makes him feel a little more in control.
His monster brain is fuzzy, but he'll take the little good things. ]
Alfie fixed. [ Royce says, his cloak form rippling. ] Wake up anomaly. Worried stuck like this. Worried I not words. Alfie kill.
Didn't fixed. [ But Alfie tried. A beat, and quietly: ] Words do not stuck.
Words don't stick. [ Yeah. As for the rest of it, Sylar's got about the gist of it. He hums in agreement. And appreciation. He's glad for the words - he wishes he could request them. ] That.
[ The cloak digs its knife fingers into the floor, almost kneading at it. Frustrated, almost upset: ] Dying didn't stick.
It's a system error. The nanites. [ It's hard to remember that, but he's been doing his best to keep it in his head. ] Everyone has to get better. At once. Or not at all. Dying doesn't help. Sorry.
[ And that was a lot of talking in this form. He pauses for way too long before he speaks again. ]
What words do you want? I'll branch off from you. Temporary is fine. I can give them again.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@duster, video, day 244
He's already figured out he can't use words. Instead, he just growls low at the tablet, clacking his knife-claws on the screen. Answer, Sylar, he's back.
And he saw your post on the obituary. ]
video;
Royce. You're alive. I was worried.
Welcome back.
[ Too bad about still being a monster. ]
no subject
no subject
I'm glad, for that.
Did you wake up hurt? You're not dying again.
no subject
[ He's starting to get the hang of making sentences out of what he has available to him, it's just that the tenses or specific words don't always work. ]
no subject
Your anomaly. You had one too.
I killed mine. Didn't even hesitate.
[ A low, mournful noise emanates from him, sounding more like a fog horn than anything else. He'll keep from trying to sigh in the future. ]
I was lucky. She said so. But I didn't change back.
no subject
She was - she. [ He doesn't have the word wife so he can't tell Sylar who she was or why it hurts him so badly to think about it. ] I hesitate.
Dying didn't change back. Her, I. [ He's sorry, Sylar, he knows this is frustrating to try and translate. ]
no subject
Her. Not your daughter? [ God, he hopes not. Who else could it be? ] Family? Friend? Wife? Sister?
Mine was a victim. I already hurt her. Before.
no subject
Wife. [ His mind gets fuzzy as his emotions spike. ] Killed her. Before. Didn't. Didn't want killed, before. Victim.
[ It wasn't directly his fault, the first time, but he blames himself. ]
no subject
Sorry. Royce, sorry. You didn't want to kill her. Not this time either. I'm sure.
They weren't them. They were broken.
no subject
Broken. They, I. [ This is said much more softly. And then, a normal volume: ] Weren't them. Killed them. Didn't want to.
no subject
If we're stuck like this. I'll find you. Where are you now?
[ And after another pause: ] Do you need words?
no subject
no subject
[ The list is odd, especially in the monotone way it's said. But it's easier for Sylar to talk this way, too, so he's hardly going to complain. ]
Entrance. Downtown. Residential Area. Chapel. Police station. Hospital. South. East. North. West. Pharmacy. School. Andromeda's house. Hsiaoke Pass. Gate. Tunnel. Ice Caves. Grocery store. Town hall.
[ The words slow to a stop. Hopefully that was enough to answer the question- he's having a tough time remembering any other landmarks. ]
no subject
no subject
Funeral home. I'm heading west. Southeast of the chapel.
[ And now that that's sorted, he's casting about for more to talk about. He doesn't want to be alone in this. His figure looms over the tablet until it's entirely black. ]
I'll tell you more words.
no subject
Broken. [ Royce mumbles. ] I'm heading south too. Friend. [ As in, Alfie is down there and he needs his buddy. ] Friend downtown. [ But... ] Find I. Tunnels you, I.
no subject
[ That being said, he can tell some missing words already. ]
Me. Mine. Fixed. We'll be fixed. I'll find a solution. Somehow. And. More. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
[ As he speaks, the tablet rises off the ground. He's floating over the snow, and the tablet seems to be floating along after him. ]
House. Building. Snow. Cold. Warm. Pain. Slice. Anomaly. Monster. Real. Fake. Red. Blue. Green. Yellow. Brown. Black. White. Purple. Orange. Audio. Text. Tablet. Turn. On. Off. Voice.
no subject
His monster brain is fuzzy, but he'll take the little good things. ]
Alfie fixed. [ Royce says, his cloak form rippling. ] Wake up anomaly. Worried stuck like this. Worried I not words. Alfie kill.
Didn't fixed. [ But Alfie tried. A beat, and quietly: ] Words do not stuck.
no subject
[ Well, damn. He didn't catch all of what Royce is trying to get across, but he's going to try. ]
Alfie killed you. To try and save you. But you woke up that way. It didn't fix it.
And your words left. Death price? I'll give you words. Whenever you want.
no subject
[ The cloak digs its knife fingers into the floor, almost kneading at it. Frustrated, almost upset: ] Dying didn't stick.
no subject
It's a system error. The nanites. [ It's hard to remember that, but he's been doing his best to keep it in his head. ] Everyone has to get better. At once. Or not at all. Dying doesn't help. Sorry.
[ And that was a lot of talking in this form. He pauses for way too long before he speaks again. ]
What words do you want? I'll branch off from you. Temporary is fine. I can give them again.