Uurrguurrwaaar

The fierce, insistent growling of her stomach roused the Greek from her slumber. Blurry eyed and half asleep she slipped out from under her covers, shoved her glasses onto her face, banged her knee on the knight stand, and walked into the door frame on her way out of her room.

With a sore nose Andrea shuffled through the hallways, down the stairs, and toward the kitchen, all while her stomach rumbled on from underneath an oversize t-shirt with a brightly colored purple pony on the front.

Considering this was a regular scenario for the Greek, she hadn't even bothered to check the time. It was normal for her to wake up ferociously hungry after a few hours of sleep, anywhere from midnight to the wee hours of morning. This night was only different in that she hadn't eaten as much at dinner before going to bed, so she could feel the hunger in her arms and legs; a kind of numb weakness that refused to go away until she'd filled her belly until near bursting.

Passing one of the many landmarks shed grown accustomed to using when moving around at night, she turned a little too sharply and rammed her shoulder into the corner of the wall. "Ouch!" A mumbled curse in her native language followed (as close to a curse-word as she could get, anyway), which echoed softly down the empty hall. Lightning flashed somewhere outside, accompanied soon after by a soft rolling thunder. The Greek jumped; Had she slept through a storm? The pattering of rain on the windows was the next thing she noticed. Andrea eyed the windows on the wall across from her warily, eyes fixated on the darkness outside, before hurrying herself towards the kitchen.

The sooner she had her midnight snack, the sooner she could retreat to the safety of her bed again.

Breaking and entering happened to be an acquired skill Sylar had picked up over the past few years. With his razor sharp claws, and tail like a saber, generally finesse wasn't needed as he could simply slice and dice his way to anything he wanted. Here at the Mansion though? Well he had to play a bit nicer, focusing on entering without upsetting anyone, or anything. After all, this was a place of friendship, which meant he was welcome, even if he tended to avoid direct contact with any of the inhabitants.

Sylar had been slumming around near the Mansion grounds, and a storm had struck, littering the world with rain and the invisible but audible lightning that came with it. To escape the chill of the rain, and the rumbling in his gut, he'd chosen to pay the Mansion a visit for a dry place and a snack. Finding his way to the backdoor was simple enough, having memorized his little route through the Mansion's walls, gardens, and land, silently creeping his way into the building. Finding the door opening meant he didn't need to break the lock or try to pick it with a claw. Dripping water as he walked, his claws clacking on the floor as he made his way through he dark halls, Sylar approached the kitchen, unaware another mutant was making her way there as well.

He opened the door of the fridge, various chilled scents hitting his nose as he perused for something that wouldn't be missed. Leftovers? A forgotten sandwich? There were a few things he could steal with relative safety. Making friends with the Mansion dwellers certainly had an advantage, here he was, with a place to shelter from the storm and a free meal. However, before he could enjoy what smelled like the remains of a casserole or meatloaf, he heard the sounds of foot steps, another creature was stirring. His first response was to flee, hide beneath or behind something, or perhaps stick into the corner of the ceiling in the room, but Sylar realized most of the mutants here probably wouldn't question a mutant raiding the fridge for a late night snack right?

With no time to spend on that thought, Sylar turned his head to observe the signature of the woman entering, his voice dry and emotionless. "Er hungry?" He asked, the boy appearing a ragged and wet creature, hands clad with weapons, and a massive bladed tail hovering behind him, like some nightmarish character looking for a sandwich.

The Greek rubbed at one eye with the palm of one gloved hand as she pushed past the door and into the kitchen. She stifled a yawn, barely noticing she wasn't alone, and headed toward the cupboards with practiced steps.

She was on her tippy-toes with her arms above her head when it registered that someone has said something to her, and even then her brain tiredly bid her to reply back with "Mhmm." and another yawn. It wasn't until she had collected a jar of peanut butter and loaf of bread on the counter in front of her, with one slice already stuffed in her mouth, that she realized what had just happened. With the expression of a startled deer, her head swiveled in the direction of the voice's owner, and a yelp of surprise was muffled by the wheat bread in her mouth.

An awkward moment of her staring at him through her glasses passed, before she spat the bread out and tried to pull herself back together. "Oh, um... yes. I mean, hello." Her voice, light and fluttery, was a perfect showcase for everything going on her in head. Surprise, shock, trepidation... maybe even a hint of fear. Andrea failed at covering it all up by instantly furiously blushing, and shoving the bread back into her mouth before she could say anything more.

The girl must be tired Sylar figured, her half-hearted response as she scavenged for her own meal. Why she found her late night sandwich mix, Sylar pulled a dish from the fridge, sniffing at it's contents before he tasted them. Indeed, some type of casserole, not the tastiest treat, but it had meat, and protein was what the boy wanted. He scooped up a handful and took a bite, cold but decent he mused as he ate away at the leftover meal before tossing the empty dish onto the counter. However it seemed his new acquaintance had finally woken up, as Sylar noticed she was staring at him, his skin flushing up as blood began to pump faster. She was embarrassed or startled it seemed, a usual response to the boy. Even when the person startled was pretty unique herself.

She quickly mumbled a greeting to him, her body giving off some easily readable signals, even to a blind boy like Sylar. He spoke softly, his voice not menacing...but not totally friendly either? "Don't mind me...Just a bit hungry myself." He finished showing her the empty container he'd just eaten from. However it was clearly hard to ignore the big monster raiding the fridge, when this girl had never met Sylar before. "Is that bread alright?" He asked, his nose clearly picking up on it's scent as the girl munched it furiously to hide her surprise at him. Perhaps more distracting than Sylar though would be the large tail attached to him at the hip, the appendage swaying in the air like a charmed cobra, ending in a beautifully reflecting blade.

Sylar grabbed a bag of lunch meat from the fridge before closing it, it's minuscule light flaring out as the kitchen became darker. He turned to her, hoping he might be able to get some of the bread from her once she either calmed down, or flipped out and ran from him. Either way, as long as he got some bread he figured it was a decent addition to the meat he was holding now.

The Greek nodded, then paused, spat out the bread, and cleared her throat. "It is good." She couldn't help but freeze up all over again when he asked about the bread she was currently hoarding, though.

With a silent yawn, a large fist sized head emerged from her hair. Sloth had been woken by his host speaking, but the moment his tongue tasted the air he was on high alert. The other serpents were quick to join, and soon the other mutant had a dozen hesitant and curious eyes pinned on him. The Greek flinched as the fridge closed, turning to watch him... and got stuck openly staring at the sharp, deadly looking tail moving around behind him.

Gulping and finding it distinctly hard to swallow, Andrea pinned her eyed on the sandwich materials she'd gotten out, while battling back a sudden spike of fear. Ira reacted for her, hissing lowly at the imposing figure heading their way.
"Shush, you. Do not be rude." She swatted at the snake weakly, taking a deep breath to get herself back under control, and stole a look at the male again.

"... Would you like me to make you a sandwich as well?"

Sylar had thought perhaps the bread was bad when she spat it out earlier, but if she said it was good, then he'd believe it. It smelled perfectly fine after all. Not having eye sight sometimes made judging food difficult. Though generally anything with a powerful smell was too gone to eat anyways so it kind of balanced out. Sylar had been curious about it, but hadn't said anything till he heard the noise. She stopped for a moment and spoke rather bluntly. "Is your hair alive? It looks fleshy and warm." He said, his thermal vision giving him an odd image before the snakes roused and began to move. They sounded and looked like snakes, but snakes were not this warm. It was an odd image for Sylar's eyes.

They must be a part of the girl he figured, they looked attached to her head after all. The girl still seemed spooked by his presence, a normal situation for Sylar so he payed it no mind as long as she didn't scream or start flailing at him for whatever reason people did such a thing. Her hair was definitely alive as it hissed aggressively at Sylar, an action he understood well. It was a defensive warning, showing the girl was uncomfortable and bothered by his presence, or maybe her hair was bothered by him. Mutants were such odd creatures. He moved a few steps closer, keeping enough space for the girl but close enough to either take the bread from her or hand her this little baggie of meat he found. "Oh, that'd be nice. I found this lunch meat. Well I hope it's lunch meat." He fumbled at the bag a bit with his clawed fingers, tearing it open and revealing the smell of sliced turkey.

Her face darkened in color once more and she reflexively touched her hair. He sure was blunt, wasn't he? "I... um... it is, sort of. It's not actually my hair..."

Aside from fidgeting due to his close proximity and the fact that she'd run into someone again in her pajamas, she was starting to feel less and less anxious as the seconds ticked by. When he fumbled with opening the bag of turkey, she frowned slightly. "Is that all you would like on it? There are lots of things in the fridge to put on a sandwich. Like Mayonnaise, mustard, pickles, and tomato.. you know? Do you not want anything else?"

Leaving the counter, and her claimed bread and peanut butter, she took the long route around the kitchen in order to avoid his long tail. She needed a jam from the fridge to make her snack edible. Well, unless she wanted to spend an hour chewing and face the possible threat of choking to death on a mouth full of bread and peanut.

Well whatever it was certainly seemed to be growing from or attached to her head like hair. Even if it was moving about and hissing. She questioned his choice in toppings for a sandwich when he showed the bag of turkey, to which he replied simply. "I like meat." Sylar was a predatory creature, with a constant craving for protein and sugar that never seemed satisfied. The girl moved towards the fridge, avoiding Sylar and his tail as she went. The tail itself would move on it's own, swaying away from her if she not near it, the appendage almost like another entity itself.

Sylar took this moment to grab some bread from the package, and then dumped basically the entire contents of this bag onto it. Generally a person used a few slices, but not Sylar. After all, it wasn't a good sandwich until it was at least 80% meat. He began to munch on his secondary snack, happily enjoying the flavor of bird meat while still paying attention to Andrea's presence. "So did the storm wake you, usually I'm alone at this hour." He spoke in his soulless tone. Though he couldn't see the flashes of lightning, he'd heard the thunder just fine, knowing this storm was plenty loud besides the heavy rain.

With a jar of jam in her hands she cast a guilty look a him and shut the fridge door. A distance low grumble started up; Andrea at first thought it was thunder again. Then she realized it was her stomach, complaining more. "... I am usually up."

Padding back to where the bread lay she set her jar down and fished out a knife, starting in on the tedious task of making enough food for her hunger to be stated. "I often wake up very hungry, but have taken to stashing away food in my room so I do not have to come down here in the dark." Mostly because of how embarrassing it often was getting caught with a dozen sandwiches, or three platefuls if food, and partly because walking around in the dark was honestly terrifying. It wasn't exactly like she could turn every light on, on her way down, either.

Lightning flashed again, casting their shadows on the wall across from them, and she jumped, nearly dropping the finished PB&J in her hands. The Greek dragged her eyes away from the window, pursing her lips as she started in on making a second sandwich. "... I do not think I have met you before? I am Andrea," She held out her hand toward him; the one not holding a messy butter knife.

So she was a night person as well, not the most unusual thing. Sylar was up at all hours of the night so it seemed he only ever met the other night owls in the mutant world. "We're both night owls it seems." He said in response. The girl was definitely hungry, her stomach growling almost as much as Sylar's usually did when he was out searching for a meal. Which, speak of the devil followed his last sentence, an odd rumbling escaping his form as he refocused his attention on the sandwich he'd made.

Sylar munched away at his meal, fangs rending the meat and measly slices of bread to bits with an audible chomp as Andrea made her own sandwich from some jars. She explained she had quite the appetite, unusual for a girl Sylar mused. Though she was clearly a mutant, so that could be to blame. An odd mutant at that, her head seemed to be covered in warm snakes. Reptiles were cold blooded right? Was it because they were part of her? His mind wandered for a moment before coming back to reality to focus on her words again. "I'm always hungry myself." He retorted to her statement.

The girl jumped, startled by something. A moment later he heard the rumble in the distance, at lightning. Perhaps she was afraid of storms...or afraid of the dark creature standing in the room with her. She offered her name and hand in greeting, a gesture Sylar just sort of stared at for a moment. His face turned to Andrea, his eyes hidden beneath their hood and his mouth of razors only visible after the flashes of lightning, giving a grim image to the homeless boy. He extended his own hand out, a devilishly implement clad in black fleshy armor, and his fingers tipped with bladed edges. "You haven't. I'm just a hungry Boogeyman here for a snack. I'm Sylar." He said stoically.

Blinking at him, she laughed. A giggle, really. 'Boogeyman' was not what she'd been expecting, but considering his current attire she found it funny. "It is very nice to meet you, Sylar. I suppose it is a good thing that I stopped believing in the boogeyman when I was a child, no?"

She eyed his hand curiously, her sight impaired by her glasses, and carefully gripped it in a gentle hand shake. It was while pulling her hand back that the rubber nature of her gloves snagged on the points of his claws, and the safety measure ripped. She didn't readily notice it, and went back to making her her food.

"I would not readily call myself a night owl." She mused with a hint of humor, attention fixed on starting a third sandwich. "I am rather afraid of the dark." The back of her neck flushed, as well as her cheeks, from the confession. Sloth leaned away from her, stretching the length of his body that wasn't coiled around the Greek's shoulders toward Sylar. His tongue lapped at the air curiously; who was this other being who's scent smelled so dangerous?

The girl Andrea seemed amused at his stated title. Most adults didn't believe in a boogeyman, but that didn't make Sylar any less real he'd found, nor his condition. "Doesn't make me any less real I'm afraid. Boo I say." He said in a voice so flat it made the joke funnier than if he'd tried to actually scare someone. "Nice to meet you as well Andrea." He followed up, his personality slightly more polite than usual thanks to the meal now floating in his stomach.

Their hands met briefly, though Sylar didn't tighten or try to grip her hand at all, his weaponized fingers making handshakes a very poor idea. It was still enough for a piece of something to catch on his finger though, a slight tug felt before it tore, revealing a threat he was entirely unaware of at the moment. With that the girl went back to making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or at least that's what he guessed from the various smells in the air and the shape of the jars she was messing with.

Odd to be up on a night like this, late and made ominous by the heavy storm outside if you were afraid of the dark. Sylar couldn't see her blushing, but he could tell when someone was flushed thanks to his eyesight. He generally assumed such displays were anxiety or nerves as opposed to embarrassment. The poor boy totally indept at reading such things. A snake sniffed at Sylar's scent, a unique smell comprised of human and...monstrous components. "Afraid of the dark, but not the Boogeyman. Aren't you strange." He said, his voice not matching his scent or image either, Sylar the boy slowly transforming into a nightmare, but still very boyish at heart.

"Some would say that, yes." She agreed, pausing from her work to look over at him. She could see his shape well enough through her glasses, but not well enough to make out any really distinguishing qualities aside from his tail and more visible alterations. The hood made it impossible for her to see his face, and the muted nerves in her hands lessened her knowledge of just how truly dangerous he was.

"I have met many self proclaimed boogeymen in my time here, and I have found that not one of them truly deserved the title." Her stomach grumbled again. She paused her thoughts and ramblings in order to take a bite from one of the prepares sandwiches. The texture was fine, the bread was fine... everything was fine until she bot down on something that crunched, hurt her teeth, and felt oddly like gravel in her mouth. Cursing under her breath, she dropped the food and wiped her hands off on her nightshirt, before ejecting the hard substance from her mouth.

"What on earth.." Mumbling, she headed for the light switch to turn on the main kitchen lights. Blinded temporarily, she turned her back on the other occupant of the room and lifted her glasses momentarily to spy what was in her hand. At the same time she noticed what it was, a hard, stone-like corner of her midnight-snack, she also noticed the condition of her glove.

Aside from potentially having ruined her meal, she realized that it was the same hand she'd touched Sylar with, and a surge of panic rushed through her. Had she hurt him? Had he even noticed? "Syalr, are you--" Turning, she stopped cold in her tracks when she finally saw him, her torn glove forgotten momentarily. The tail... the hands and feet. She'd seen some scary people in her life, this male was probably one of the most startling. It wasn't the like the mutations she had grown used too. It wasn't that he was scary because of the tail, or the claws, or the ominous shadow his hood projected on him- but the combination of everything into one picture. If her nightmares hadn't already had a face, he would have definitely become one of them.

"-..alright?" She felt unable to move from where she'd rooted herself.

Sylar have been given his title by a little girl he rescued over a year ago, and though you think he'd hate being associated with a child's monster, he actually kind of enjoyed the name. It felt more fitting to take a title for his mutant life style, than to remember his human born name, even if it was a unique one. Roach went by his name, and it seemed physical mutants in general renamed themselves unlike the normal looking ones. Andrea seemed unconcerned with it though, slowly coming to accept his presence in the room.

"I kind of like the name myself, a girl was the first to give it to me." He responded, seemingly unbothered by referring to himself that way, or being accused of not being very boogeyman-like. As the conversation went on though, Andrea seemed distracted by something in her food, like she had been at the start of this little encounter. The lights of the kitchen came on unbeknownst to Sylar as Andrea turned to speak to him and stopped dead in her tracks. It seemed she'd finally seen what he really was.

Her words fell flat as Sylar's visage became visible beneath the lights. A form too lithe and lean to really be a man, hands clad in obsidian armor with a fleshy appearance and fingers like knives. A tail curled behind him, long and thin like a massive snake but ending with a scorpion barb. But perhaps the worst was his face, hidden beneath a wet hood that held tightly to him, revealing only the bottom half of his face, and a mouth full of inhuman fangs, pointed and shiny as if to emphasize their deadly nature. If she hadn't believed him earlier, perhaps now she would. He smiled a bit, the sinister curl of his lips not helping his image for the moment.

"I told you didn't I Andrea? I'm the Boogeyman, took you long enough to look at me." His voice was calm and soft, not really fitting his appearance, but the boy beneath the beast. "Sorry to startle you again. Is something the matter?" He asked, his tail continuing to curl a bit behind him, the end waving about like a cat watching something curiously.

He isn't dangerous... he isn't a danger. He won't hurt you...

The mantra in her head did nothing to sit her into moving again. Her fingers twitched; the air suddenly felt stale. A panic attack was looming and it was taking everything in her to battle it back. Perhaps it was the light glinting off his teeth... maybe it was the now obvious deadliness of every sharp point on him. She honestly wasn't sure. But the walls of the room were starting to press in on her; the storm raging outside louder than it had before. Her snakes were on high alert, reacting to her inner battle. Her hand hovered in the air, the broken latex pulling further and further away as seconds picked by.

He wasn't going to hurt her... he wasn't that man. Isn't that man. Though his teeth were sharp, he wasn't going to use them against her. Though his claws were fearsome, they were not the daggers that had so easily severed the sins from her head. Breathe!

He spoke her name, and she snapped out of her trance. Gasping as she sucked in a breath of air, not realizing she'd been holding it, she shook her head violently. The Greek was still terrified of moving lest her legs collapse under her. "You... y-you are not.." Another breath, and she visibly tensed in an attempt to gain some control over herself again. ".. You are not hurt, a-are you? M-my glove... broke." It was held up for him to see, as if it were proof. If only her hand would stop shaking...