aquaria334

aquaria334 @ 2008-10-19T21:06:00

2008-10-19T20:07:28Z

Because I haven't uploaded anything in ages. ^^;

aquaria334 @ 2008-09-06T23:36:00

2008-09-06T22:40:32Z

I have a scanner!

Just thought you might like to know.

aquaria334 @ 2008-07-25T11:38:00

2008-07-25T10:41:01Z

Have an episode of Swift Lane. It's shorter and suckier than the others so far, but things will pick up, I promise.

aquaria334 @ 2008-07-22T21:40:00

2008-07-22T20:43:56Z

I promise that I will get round to writing the Torchwood drabbles! I've just had a lot of pressure to a) finish coursework for school and b) finish this. I hope you like it; it was spawned the day we read Androcles and the Lion in Latin. Nevermind, school's finished now.

aquaria334 @ 2008-07-03T23:43:00

2008-07-03T22:48:04Z

I will write a drabble for the first five commenters to request one. In return, they have to post this in their journal (if they want to). You may request the character and/or the pair for the following fandoms: Doctor Who, Torchwood, Heroes… Lissi, Debbie, I know you’re the only ones reading this, and I think you know what fandoms we have in common.

List six of your favorite TV shows and answer the following questions.
.1. Star Trek: TNG
.2. Doctor Who
.3. Death Note. I decided that anime counts, because they show it on TV.
.4. Torchwood
.5. Heroes
.6. Ugly Betty

1. Who is your favourite character from #2? (Doctor Who)
The Doctor

2. Who is your least favourite character from #4? (Torchwood)
It used to be Gwen, but I like them all now. Hmm.

3. What would a crossover between #1 and #5 include? (Star Trek/Heroes)
It would be quite cool, seeing as Hiro’s dad is played by the guy who did Sulu. He’d be stuck on Earth in the 21st century and the Next Generation crew would turn up and find him there. Data and Hiro would HAVE to become friends.

4.Who is your favourite ship from #6? (Ugly Betty)
Uhgn. Pass. I don’t ship for that show.

5. If you were to set up one person from #3 and one person from #6 on a blind date, who would they be? (Death Note/Ugly Betty)
Misa and Amanda. They’re both a bit dim and blonde, but Misa’s quite nice and Amanda’s a bitch so it’d be fun to see how that plays out.

6. If you could meet one person from #4 and spend the day with them, who would it be, and what would you do? (Torchwood)
Jack. We’d probably go to Subway and do something really normal, knowing me. I doubt even he could make my life much more interesting.

7. If you could change one thing about #2's plotline, what would you change? (Doctor Who)
There is too much Donna. Too much.

8. Explain a relationship between two people (not necessarily romantic) from show #3, and why you like the relationship between them. (Death Note)
Misa and Rem. Rem is a death god who loves Misa, even though Misa doesn’t seem to care much for her. Her love can be taken on many levels – platonic, maternal, or romantic (depends what kind of fan you are ^^). Even though Rem is a lot more sensible than anyone else in the show, she risks a lot for Misa.

9. If the lead title characters (first name in the credits) from #1 and #5 were both drowning, and you could only save one, who would it be? (Star Trek / Heroes)
That’s between Picard and… Peter Petrelli? Picard. There would be NO SHOW without him, whereas Heroes could probably manage without Peter.

10. If you could change the title characters' order in the credits for #6, what order would you choose? (Ugly Betty)
Meh.

11. If you were able to add a new character, any kind of character you wanted, to the storyline for #4, what would the character be like and what would their role be? (Torchwood)
Let’s see… I know. A snooty Torchwood-London or UNIT person who has been sent to check whether Torchwood is doing its job properly, and is appalled by what they see. It would be fun to see Jack annoying them.

12. What happens in your favourite episode of show #2? (Doctor Who)
I have so many favourite episodes. In Blink, there’s a very clever plot involving statues that move people through time. It’s a great episode.

13. If you could kill off one of the characters of #1, who would it be and how would you do it? (Star Trek)
Troi. She didn’t do anything. She was there to provide fanservice. Seriously, why the hell would the ship’s counsellor be on the bridge? Either her or Wesley, stupid Gary-Stu of a child-genius…

14. If you got the chance to visit the set for either show #3 or show #5, which would you choose? (Death Note / Heroes)
Interesting as an animating studio doubtless is, I would pick Heroes. Like Lissi said, special effects and stuff.

15. If you could date anyone from any of these shows, which show and which person?
Rem. I know she’s a cartoon, but her character design is so cool and she’s so awesome. And she’s a death god, which has it’s benefits, I would think.

aquaria334 @ 2008-06-21T00:28:00

2008-06-20T23:39:06Z

There is something wrong with me. I am updating my journal not to post new videos or writing, oh no no. I simply had to tell everyone I know about my new OTP. Ready for this?

Rem/Misa from Death Note.

Yeah, I know. Rem's a death god, the rules of canon prevent them from having sex and there is absolutely no evidence anywhere that Misa ever cared for Rem much. Still, I may even write fanfic for this one, so be warned.

And if you haven't seen Death Note, do yourself a favour and do so right now. Probably the best anime that I've ever seen. In other news, our school started a 'Japan club' which quickly devolved into an anime appreciation society within two minutes. I had an interesting discussion about pocky, though. ^^

aquaria334 @ 2008-06-11T19:24:00

2008-06-11T18:25:03Z

Have another episode.

aquaria334 @ 2008-06-04T23:26:00

2008-06-04T22:32:56Z

Latin today was fun. We've started studying The Aeneid, and the following conversation came up.

Mrs MacFarlane: So, what are Nisus and Euryalus?
Pupil 1: Trojans.
Pupil 2: Warriors.
Mrs MacF: Yes, what else?
Pupil 3: Gay?
Mrs MacF: Yes.
*pause*
A depressingly large amount of students: EWWW! OMGWTFBBQ??!!!!1 *Pandemonium ensues*

Ahem... I wrote a paragraph today. Quite pleased with it, so it's going here. I may use it as the beginning of a story.

Gargantuan stone structures towered over him, reflecting the heat and blinding light of the sun into his eyes. The endless expanse of desert and sky stretched around the city, and these monuments dared stand proud against them, giants asserting their position above all. The near-flawless stone was carved with runes that had lost their meaning to the ages, and statues a hundred times larger than any man. These were the temples of Maior-Blaande, and they were what Gart Branton had come to seek.

aquaria334 @ 2008-05-30T17:06:00

2008-05-30T16:53:25Z

Original character meme. Because I'm bored. =]

Choose Ten of your OC’s:
1. Gart Branton
2. Mathias Von Lance
3. Jayden Kavouni
4. Aurelia D'Arcy
5. Klaxon West
6. Snix (quit your laughing, it's a cool name. Star Trek fandom OC)
7. Priya (another Star Trek ~~Mary Sue~~ OC)
8. The former Rugael
9. The former Gart.
10. The former Mathias. 8, 9 and 10 were from my older, crappier story. You know, the one with Aquans and Aurans and... forget it.

Four Invites Three to Dinner at their house. What happens?
Aurelia has a fun time trying to hide Jayden from her parents. She sneaks her food and they have a very witty/sexually ambiguous conversation before Jayden finds an excuse for them to have teh lesbian sexxors. Jayden makes her exit down a drainpipe while Aurelia is asleep.

Nine tries to get Five to go to a strip club.
He has no trouble at all with this. They go and get smashed and have a great time.

You need to stay at a friend’s house for the night, who do you choose, One or Six?
Snix. She lives on the starship Enterprise. Gart just lives in a crappy flat.

Two and Seven are making out and Ten walks in, what happens?
Aside from wondering why they are all in the same universe, he just looks at them, eyebrows raised for a moment. When they look up to find him watching them, he walks out. It is an odd moment, and no mistake. Luckily for everyone involved, it is never mentioned again.

Three falls in love with Six, Eight gets Jealous, what happens?
Snix rejects them both since, being a Vulcan, she does not find 'love' a logical concept. Jayden shrugs. Rugael is angsty for a while until he remembers that he is gay anyway.

Four jumps you in a dark Alley way. Who comes to your Rescue? Ten, Two or Seven?
Priya. She is programmed to value and preserve life. She is also super-strong. Not that current-Mathias wouldn't help if he knew that he would win and he wanted to get into my pants.

One decides to start a cooking show. 15 minutes later, what is happening?
He is being upstaged by his friends Jayden and Mathias, who have gatecrashed his show. He also wishes that he had never brought up this crazy idea.

Three has to marry Eight, Four or Nine. Who do they choose?
Aurelia. They're in love anyway... and in the same story... and both lesbians. Logical choice, really.

Seven Kidnaps Two and demands something from Five for Two’s release. What is it?
Mechical odds and ends and technical help. Also, another logical choice.

Everyone gangs up on three. Do they stand a chance in hell?
Depends, if Priya had had her programming altered so that she could harm humans. Otherwise, Jayden might just win if she could reach her trusty motorbike in time for a quick getaway. If she came to blows with any of them, she'd probably come out top too.

Everyone is invited to Two and Tens wedding except Eight. How do they react?
Crash it, yelling about why nobody should ever trust a dirty Aquan (he also probably wonders aloud why they both have the same name, but that's beside the point).

Why is Six afraid of Seven?
As an android, Priya is more logical than Snix will ever be. And stronger too.

One arrives late for Two and Tens wedding. What happens and why were they late?
He was out at Mathias' stag night and was the one who got chained to a lamppost. Hell, it's not like Mathias would let that happen to himself, even if he is the groom-to-be.

Five and Nine get roaring drunk and end up at your house, what happens?
I try to calm them down, then cut my losses and have a drink with them. Not like anyone could ever contain Klaxon and former-Gart.

Nine murders Two’s best friend. What does Two do to get back at them?
Makes a deal with Jayden's biker friends to make former-Gart PAY. He probably skips out on deal and get's his own head kicked in anyway.

Six and Seven are in mortal danger. Only one of them can survive. Does six save themself or the other one?
Snix would save Priya. It is the most logical choice, seeing as there are only four Soong-type androids in existance but there are loads of Vulcans.

Eight and Three go camping but forget food. What do they do?
Rugael forages around in the woods for edible stuff and Jayden complains a lot and tries to lighten the mood with stupid jokes.

Five is in a car crash and critically injured, what does Nine do?
Laughs. Would probably make up a bragging tale that he was also in the car, jumped out at the last possible moment and dragged Klaxon from the burning wreckage.

aquaria334 @ 2008-05-17T17:30:00

2008-05-17T16:33:48Z

Well, it's here. It's supposed to take place in England, but I forgot to delete the mailboxes so... make of it what you will.

I am really, really pleased with this, but really, really want to kill Windows Movie Maker right now. As soon as I can buy a version of Sony Vegas, I am totally going to.

aquaria334 @ 2008-05-13T10:29:00

2008-05-13T09:35:35Z

Have some writings. Yes, I know, I actually wrote something! *shock horror*

Lies and When They are Acceptable

Some children are loud by nature; any teacher will tell you so. They are the ones who will never sit down and quietly read a book when they could be running around making noise. They are the well-liked ones, even when their actions have repercussions for the rest of the class. They are mostly cheerful kids, I have found, and even when they are sad they will find an excuse for everyone to make a song and dance about it.

Harry is one such kid -- always beaming at his own silly jokes and making trouble for everyone else, yet you have to love him. The other children all want to have him in their group, and he is always the first child out on the playing field when recess starts. Not the brightest kid I’ve ever taught, but by far the most engaging. He’s a conversation starter in himself, as his mere presence encourages the shyest children to start talking:

“Hey, Harry, guess what my parents got me for my birthday!”

“Harry, do you want to help us play against the kids in 2^nd grade this weekend?”

Yes, some children are just unique. I mean, he could be a terrible student sometimes – a lot of the time, actually – but he was probably the most optimistic and funny child I ever had in my class. Except for one day, about six months ago.

There was a strange atmosphere, almost tense, as I walked into the room. I had not realised just how solemn a class of children could be when they had the inclination. They were talking, of course, but their voices were quieter than usual, and many of them seemed to be in a small crowd at the back of the room. I made my way over, and the children parted silently to let me see Harry, who was sitting with his head on his desk, wordless for once. The other children sat back down with sober looks on their small faces. I crouched down to Harry’s level, and asked the first question which came into my mind.

“Are you alright, Harry?”

He lifted his head from his arms, and shook it. His face was red and his eyes screwed up, as though he were struggling not to cry. He did not say a thing, didn’t even start sobbing. I thought it best to continue my questioning outside, and so we moved to the cloakroom, where he sat down on the floor and hid his face again. I offered him a tissue, which he took without a word and blew his nose with. His face screwed up, his shoulders started shaking and yet again he tried to hide his eyes from me, which were no doubt brimming with tears. I sighed. He didn’t seem to be hurt; children have a tendency to start bawling their heads off when in physical pain. This silence unnerved me.

“Is… is everything alright at home, Harry?” He shook his head. I frowned and took a deep breath. I had never thought that I would have to ask that question. I had met his students before at parent-teacher conference evenings, they had always seemed so nice…

“My dog died this morning, Miss.”

Oh. Oh.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

Now he really did start crying, rocking backwards and forwards, wailing in the most pitiful way. It is one thing as a teacher to comfort children with scraped knees or squabbles with friends, it is quite another to be in this sort of situation. I didn’t know what to say, or what to do about the other children in the class. I couldn’t leave them alone for too long, and this situation was becoming awkward, to say the least.

“My dad said he won’t go to Heaven, Miss, ‘cause he hasn’t got a soul. Is that true?” He cried. I startled. What the hell could I say? That I wasn’t allowed to answer that question? His earnest eyes looked up at me, searching for reassurance. I know the answer I should have given, but somehow I just couldn’t. Call me an idiot, but I couldn’t tell him that teachers were not allowed to discuss religion with pupils. I just gave the answer I thought would comfort a crying boy.

“I… I’m sure he will, Harry. Now, come on, we’ll find you another tissue and get back to class, okay?” He nodded, and shakily stood up after a moment.

Of course ‘discussions’ of that sort are never acceptable, and I was fired less than a week later. Lying to reassure Harry that day, however, still seems justifiable to me. Even throughout the hearings with the school board and Harry’s parents, even as I searched through the jobs section of newspapers for months afterwards, I still stood by my answer, and I do to this day.

Untitled Drabble

It fitted perfectly into the palm of his hand. ‘Cool, burnished metal against pale flesh...’ The man wrapped his fingers around it, finding grip in his muscles that he would use every time he held this weapon. Tilting it slowly left, then right, testing its balance and weight – the man smiled, sure of himself and his shiny new toy. Bound by fiscal agreements, he exchanged pleasantries and money with the others; work was work, after all. Nothing to get excited about in his line of business – nothing except the weapons. Not fatal cries, alarm bells, howling sirens.

Just shiny toys.

Preview. Dun-dun-dun.

2008-05-10T21:27:36Z

Coming soon to Youtube: Swift Lane! I've got a whole series planned out, all I need to do is film it. =]

Should be a fun project.

aquaria334 @ 2008-04-18T16:20:00

2008-04-18T15:21:46Z

What's that? A new Sims 2 video, you say?

aquaria334 @ 2008-04-06T16:11:00

2008-04-06T15:19:19Z

I have just posted my first entry to a story-writing competition on Gaia. =D
Admittedly, I have posted entries to story-writing competitions before, but only on crappy sites where stories about vampires and/or self harm were considered 'deep'. Anyway, here it is. Wish me luck.

p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt">Deny Me this Song

</p>

Jennifer was not exactly sure why she had chosen the church – it might possibly have chosen her – but she was glad she was here. The stained glass windows made her feel safe in a way, for they hid the bright sunlight, manicured lawns and perfect smiles of the town from her. Sometimes a beautiful world can be simply too beautiful. She lay back on the cool, smooth surface of the pew, relieved that nobody else was there, smiling softly. It was dark and cold. Jenny liked the dark and cold.

She could have fallen asleep right there and then, but there was a raging energy inside her that wanted to be let free, by any means possible. It would have to be released soon, she was sure of it. She would not be able to control it, it would just come spilling out of her – maybe she’d shout at her brothers. Or kick some unsuspecting animal. Or cry. Jenny hoped it wouldn’t be the last one, she looked ridiculous when she cried, like some overgrown snivelling child. She kicked her shoes off and watched them fly towards the rafters high above her head, then eventually fall back down into the opposite row of pews. She snickered, and was shocked for a moment to hear her echo laugh back at her. She sat up, as if to check that nobody else was really there, hiding behind some pillar. No one. And yet there was still a burning desire inside her to do something, anything. She got up, and began pacing up and down the aisle, unable to focus on a single thought. Vague images swam in front of her mind – the essay she handed in the other day that she thought had been worth at least a B, but wasn’t; being the youngest, ugliest bridesmaid at her older brother’s wedding; her piano teacher screaming at her for not learning her scales properly. A dreamy smile crossed Jenny’s face briefly, for it had been a very long time since she had taken piano lessons. She had been just a six-year-old kid under the impression that a few easy lessons would turn her into a genius. Boy, had that illusion faded fast.

Now she sat down again, but her seat was in front of three rows of white and black keys at the church organ. She studied them, scrutinising them as though she could work out what they sounded like just by staring at them. Carefully, she wiped dust off the keys and pressed a few experimentally. Random notes sounded, and Jennifer quickly took her hands away as she felt the ground beneath her vibrate. Silence fell. She looked around again, to check that there really wasn’t anybody else in the building, and then turned back to the keys. She had always been useless at playing the piano, which was a shame since musical talent seemed to run in her mother’s side of the family. Jenny could remember one Christmas afternoon when her mother had played a few carols on the piano in their dining room. That had been such a good day.

The first thing her mother had ever attempted to teach her on the piano came back to her now. Hesitantly, she found the right notes and traced them with her fingertips. She practised for a minute without touching the actual keys. It was just a simple sequence, really, but was just about the only thing she knew how to play, since she had given up with the piano lessons after only a month. There were no words to this song. Then, after a minute or so of this, Jennifer began to press down on the keys again, playing properly now. It was slow and the tune was monotonous, but the organ gave a beauty to the melody that could not be captured on the piano in her dining room. It seemed so much more spectral, especially in a dark, cold, empty church and the nostalgia that the song brought was overpowering, almost. Jenny was whisked back to a time when people had smiled at her simply for being a cute, if chubby, little child with frizzy hair and a big heart. It had not mattered to anyone then what her dress size was or how well she did at school – she was ‘our little Jenny’, that’s all. Her parents were just as pleased with any pictures she scribbled out as they were with her older brothers’ test scores. Everything had been better. Jennifer wished she had stuck at something; perhaps if she had kept drawing pictures she could have been an artist by now. Maybe if she had carried on with the piano lessons she could be top of music class. A lump stuck in her throat as she tried to think desperately of just one thing she was better at than everyone else. Her lip trembled slightly.

She began to play the tune again, but this time she used her left hand to play an accompaniment of chords. She was only just aware of her chest heaving faster than was really necessary, and her face screwing up as her vision became blurry. Anger overcame her, and it was all she could do to keep playing the tune as hot tears spilled down her face. Jennifer hated crying, if only because she knew her face would go red and her eyes would remain bloodshot for the better part of an hour. And yet someone was trying to intrude on her privacy now of all times, just now when she wanted to be alone the most. A shaft of bright light fell on the floor at the back of the church as the door heaved open, and the head of an old man, most likely the vicar, appeared. Wide eyes met Jenny’s tearful ones, and she knew she could not bear it anymore.

“I don’t care what you think! I don’t care! Just leave me alone, everyone else does!” She sobbed, and took her hands away from the keys, using them instead to shield her face and wipe her eyes.

The vicar was stunned. He had heard the stories, of course, about the ghost that played the organ in the church, but never once had he thought them to be true.

aquaria334 @ 2008-03-17T18:08:00

2008-03-17T18:10:39Z

Watch my new video in all its horrifying glory!
I call it 'Little Lab of Horrors'.

aquaria334 @ 2008-03-12T19:03:00

2008-03-12T19:04:48Z

New video. Done for a Citizenship project to raise awareness.
I hate this muchly. Working on a new video now, though, which I'm doing out of choice! Huzzah.

aquaria334 @ 2008-03-12T18:34:00

2008-03-12T18:38:45Z

Wow. I haven't posted in ages.But I have something new, so it might as well go on here. I know everyone who's my friend on livejournal was there when I read it out earlier at the creative writing group, but it might as well go on the internet.

Titled 'Home Lies On The Loneliest Road'

Janet shuffled along the street on her own, not having remembered her bus pass. It was starting to rain. Small droplets hit the back of her neck. The world seemed to have had most of the colour sucked out of it today, and the odd splashes of red, blue and silver that were cars roaring by seemed out of place. Across the road a rowdy group of youngsters were listening to their God-awful music and trying their best to scare her away, or so it seemed. She wrinkled her nose at them – the safest way of showing her disdain – and turned the corner into Hamlet Drive. She wondered vaguely whether she should have bought the discounted dog food instead of the expensive brand.

The sky was no less grey, and the world no less wet or cold, but there was a beautiful similarity to her surroundings that made Janet feel safe here. Each step along this road was a step closer to her goal. She was so very near; not even the heavy shopping that weighed her down could slow her. Ahead of her a mother rushed her children out of a car and into a house. Janet noticed how the shoes that they were wearing were entirely inappropriate for this weather – did these people not watch the weather forecast? But of course nobody has the time to do anything these days, she thought, they are always complaining how busy they are!

The wind picked up now, and blew the rain into her right ear instead. If Janet had not been carrying two rather heavy shopping bags, she would have gripped onto her hat tightly to stop it blowing away, just as she had done when she was a child. How long ago that was now…

Finally, she turned again, this time into her sparse front garden. She slowly stepped up to her front door, put down her shopping and fumbled for her keys. Eventually, she stepped into the relative dryness of her hallway, then along to her kitchen to put everything away – except the dog food. She would feed Charles first. That old thing – she did love him. Named after her late husband, he had helped to fill the lonely hole in her life after he had passed away. They both had the same dark eyes, Janet thought. Putting the now full bowl of dog food back onto the floor, she now called:
“Char-les! Charles! Come here, you silly boy. It’s your dinner!”

No reply.

aquaria334 @ 2008-01-04T19:27:00

2008-01-04T19:34:01Z

Behold... more Sims 2!

This was created as homework for an English project on advertising. We had to make an advert for a made-up product and show it to the class. Kind of knocked together in a few hours after I realised the night before it was due in that nobody in our group had given any thought as to what we were going to present. But meh.

I wish Pan Polar was real and really had that effect *sighs wistfully*.

Swing Swing

2007-12-29T21:55:40Z

I probably won't update so frequently in future, but I just decided to share some things that I've already made. This is a video I made last July called 'Swing Swing'. It's about a girl who becomes untrue to herself in order to become popular and loses one of her best friends. Many years later, they meet up at some gig. It's the first thing I directed properly, and it's made with Sims 2. Music by All-American Rejects.

Yes, I am that sad.

aquaria334 @ 2007-12-27T21:04:00

2007-12-27T21:14:57Z

As explained at length in my 'About Me' section, this journal is basically going to be a place where I can post a ton of creative crap, minus my drawings because I HAVE NO SCANNER. First up: fanfiction! Heroes fanfiction, to be precise. A crappy Moheter one-shot, to be even more precise.
This was a Christmas present for my friend Lissi, and is the first piece I have written in a very long time. I have no other excuse. Enjoy?

I have no idea who's reading this, anyhow.

The Untitled Moheter Fic

Showers, Peter Petrelli thought as the hot water hit his body and blood started swirling around his feet, could solve many of the world’s problems. It was what he had said at the hospital many times and had seemed to help all his patients. It was what he had told himself again and again ever since he was a boy. In fact now that he thought about it, all the times in his life when he had felt upset or angry – when Nathan had sneered at his report cards as a child, when he had skipped the prom at sixteen because he had no date, when Nathan had told the world about his brother’s ‘suicide attempt’ – the first thing he did when he came home was to head to the bathroom, strip, and attempt to let the pain wash away down the plughole.

The pain refused to go so easily this time though. Peter was fairly clean now; there was no more blood on his body at any rate. But the aches from earlier today still hurt, and a horrible throbbing sensation had developed in his left temple – he hoped bitterly that he wasn’t getting a headache. A headache was the last thing he needed.

But he could cope with that – physical pain. It was not as though he was mortal anymore, or so it seemed. He was supposed to have died today. The sort of pain that was eating him up inside right now though, that was agony. The terrible, sickening feeling of powerlessness against that monster who called himself ‘Sylar’ had been bad enough, but it was nothing compared to horror of seeing… well, the surprise that had been waiting for him on the ceiling.

The strange thing was that he wouldn’t have minded if Mohinder Suresh had indeed been the last thing he had ever seen.

***

It had been in a taxi, he reminded himself, the first time they had met; a typical New York yellow taxi, complete with beaded seat covers. After just a few moments of conversation with him, Peter had become aware that this was no ordinary taxi driver – this was an intellectual taxi driver. He smiled faintly at the memory of the incident. Seeing mostly only the back of Mohinder’s head, he had not been able to appreciate just how – he hated himself for admitting this now – handsome the stranger had been.

They had travelled on the Subway together as well, standing so close, their faces just a foot away from each other’s. Mohinder had mostly just stood thinking, as seemed to be a habit of his. Peter did not mind. He looked – nice, that way. Peter’s insides seemed to squirm a little at the thought, even now. Why should he think that way, about another man no less? He could not help it, these feelings had just come spilling over out of nowhere.

I wonder what Nathan would think? He wondered idly. No doubt his brother would be furious with him for deciding to pursue a homosexual relationship so close to Election Day. The press would have a field day if they found out, too. But what if he didn’t chase Mohinder? What would happen then?

We go on with our lives. Nobody finds out, nobody is any the wiser. I fall in love with a woman, maybe he falls in love with a woman. Maybe not. Everybody wins, anyway.

Except me.

***

The telephone rang just twice in the dark apartment before the geneticist answered, certain that this would finally be someone replying to one of his calls about their powers. Normally he would have been eager to answer questions, to discover more about them and what they could do, but today he just felt tired and in a state of horrible and confusing loss. It was not even as though he had known Peter Petrelli very well, but to witness anyone’s death… that had gotten inside his head and the image of his pale, lifeless body haunted him.

It had been heartbreaking to break the news to Mrs Petrelli, but even then the news had not sunk in properly. He had been more stung by her reaction than by the death. Mohinder supposed that he had still been feeling numb. Now however, the truth had finally begun to hit him. Peter was gone.

Why should he really care, he had asked himself. Why should the death of that young, quiet, moody, striking… Mohinder shook his head. He had to stop thinking about him like this. Ever since he had come back to New York, all he could think about was finding him again. He had had the strangest dream last night, actually, about them alone together – but that had meant nothing! Nothing at all, he told himself, as he raised the receiver to his ear.

Before he could say anything, he heard a very familiar voice at the other end. Despite the shock he felt, despite every icy feeling that ought to have crept up his spine at the sound of a dead man’s voice on the end, Mohinder Suresh smiled.

The End