"Oh! I have had rare steak before... It is a lot less chewy than cooked meats." She'd liked it well enough; Saph had taken her out once and convinced her to try a rather pricey item on the menu. Other than how soft it was, she didn't really think there was much of a difference between it and it's well cooked brethren. "It was very juicy, if I remember correctly." Yes... yes it had been. She had been very distressed at a plate full of warm, red juice, and nothing to soak it up with. Hadn't anyone ever heard of bread with dinner?

Having brought her home up willingly, it was a lot less painful to talk about. Perhaps this was because Saph had worked with her on opening up, or maybe because there was no longer any reason to try and shelter herself from the truth. "It is, actually... surprisingly accepting of people like us." Mutants, abnormal's, or from the lips of the un-kind 'freaks', "... I have not been able to travel around much, however. I cannot tell you about any attractions or landmarks."

She could tell him about the birds that would once gather in her backyard, or the flowers that bloomed in her mothers garden, or what the sunset and sunrise looked like over the bay... but she hardly thought he'd care about such frivolous things.

"We are similar in that regard also, then. I was home schooled. Books practically raised me." Chuckling, she turned and pried the oven open again, reaching for a ladle so she could baste the meat inside with any juices that might have collected already.

Seemed the girl wasn't so bothered by his explanation of eating raw meat. As long as he didn't go on to tell her exactly what kind of meat he was talking about. "Juicy...yeah, I guess that would be the word." Sylar certainly could think of it as juicy, the feeling as blood gushed from between his teeth and down his throat...not the best time to think about raw meat Sylar, calm down. He swallowed the bit of drool that had pooled in his mouth and thought about something else.

Sylar was surprised when Andrea spoke of an accepting home, if home was accepting why leave? Sylar's home never really wanted him, and he gave it up when they were going to abandon him, better to do it first he always felt. "Surprised you left if they don't have muties, this city isn't as welcoming." Sylar continued, only really aware of his own experience with normal people's reactions to mutants, more specifically their fear of him for his actions and the way he carried himself.

She continued on to describe that she also enjoyed books, and was home schooled. Home schooling would have been nice as a kid Sylar thought. "I went to a public school, no good memories except for the library. Can't ready anymore though, not with these hands." He said, lifting his claws up and showing how plating covered his fingertips in sharpened claws, numbing his sense of touch. The girl turned to check on the meal she was cooking, and Sylar felt a bit more drool in his mouth, the smell of cooking meat starting to get to him. Where as raw meat triggered one instinct, the smell of proteins breaking down triggered another, a more normal taste in food.

"Yes... well, I did not know much of my country at the time. I had many questions, and this school was my best hope for answers." Standing again, she set the spoon aside gently and made sure her dish glove was still on snugly. "It was best that I left anyway... My parents were normal, neither had any clue how to deal with my many issues."

The beef was cooking just fine, quicker than she'd expected it too. It had probably been pre-cooked at some point before she'd gotten her hands on it. The potatoes were coming along fine as well. Soon she would need to check how soft they were. "I have heard such before about public schools. I am fortunate in some ways, I suppose... but I have also been terribly sheltered because of it. My mother was in charge of all my lessons, so anything she did not wish me to learn, I did not learn. It was very startling upon first coming here. So many are so...um.. free with their thoughts." Her cheeks darkened again, and she left the stove to approach him again.

"Is it really very hard? I cannot imagine not being able to read... It is one of my favorite past times.." She eyed his hands, able to see them better in the light, and frowned slightly. "Have you not been into the library here? I am sure there must be books suited for you, or maybe something to help you out.."

So Andrea left her home in search of answers, in search of herself? Sounds like any girl leaving home for school. Sylar never had that luxury, the fear of everything around him crippled his curiosity as a student, as a son. Instead Sylar had grown accustomed to a more sensible way of answering his own questions, whatever kept him alive worked. "I see, find the answers you were looking for?" He asked offhandedly, curious as to how she felt about leaving her home. Sylar had left his previous life of his own volition as well, but for very different reasons. "Seems parents can never deal with different children." The last comment was said soft and under his breath, a grimmer thought escaping the boy's mouth.

The girl went about her cooking very happily, it must be fun for her, or at least distracting her from the odd situation that Sylar entailed. Seems the difference between a home school and the United States was vast for Andrea, Sylar knew home school kids were generally sheltered, but his life in public school wasn't very open or enticing, instead just littered with being ignored or picked on. "Even when I was normal I was different, nobody liked the quiet blind boy. Public school was bad, and be glad you missed it." He said flatly. Sylar was certainly free with his own thoughts as well, though more unrefined and upfront as opposed to open minded, or oppressive.

She asked what it was like to be unable to read, and to be honest Sylar missed it a lot at first. But eventually the leisure activities faded from your mind as other more important things came about. "I read plenty as a boy, but the changes to my hands make braille impossible to feel. It's hard plating, kind of like bone around my fingers." He explained the mutation on his hands, their morphed status into alien claws. "I've never been to the library here, considering I don't live here." He said this without realizing it might spook the girl, or de-rail the conversation. "Besides, I've gotten used to life without the books, my own story is far more unique than anything on a page." He said, a chuckle escaping his mouth as he thought about how odd his life truly was.

"...in a way, I did. Though, not all of them were the answers I thought I had been looking for."

His comment about public school was one she had heard before, and she was sure she had every right to trust it. But... he mentioned something about being blind, and that caught her off guard. " You... cannot see?" She was rightfully puzzled, as she was sure he had been tracking her with his eyes, or least his head, since she had stumbled upon him. Perhaps it was because of her definition of 'blind', that she couldn't fathom what he meant. How... had he even been able to read?

Oh... Braille! They had been braille books. Which, made a lot of sense as he explained his hands. They would have made it impossible to feel anything on a page.

Still puzzled, but rather silly, she almost missed him admitting that he didn't actually live in the mansion. Thankfully, she'd met many who didn't, but still regularly visited, so it wasn't much of a shock to her. The time of night was, a little, but she could understand that at least.

"You should stop by at least, it is quite a magnificent library. They have shelves so tall you can get stranded on top." She knew that as a fact. "I would be more than happy to show you, if you would like, after we eat?" Excitement hovered at the edge of her voice, just barely contained. If there was on thing she loved more than Saphirus, it was any form of writing. Poems, ballads, short stories, and epic tales.... anything and everything she could immerse herself in.

"My favorite are adventure stories..." The Greek murmured, fiddling with the stirring spoon in her hands.

An oddly profound statement Sylar thought. It did seem whenever you had questions you rarely got the answer you wanted, just the one that was true. Seems his lack of foresight again brought up the question of his vision. Though he didn't' really care, being born blind meant he didn't so much feel disabled, as just abnormal. "Never could, I was born blind. Though things are kind of different now." He stopped for a moment, thinking how to explain his vision, considering he didn't exactly understand it himself. Other than knowing what he saw was the heat of things around him.

"I can't see you, or anything like you do. But I can see what you can't, I can see the warmth that comes off of things. In your case, body heat, the blood in your veins gives you a human shape. Where as other stuff looks different, but everything has some temperature I can see." His world was a mixture of the things he could perceive, and couldn't perceive, the negatives of anything cold helping him to create a picture to work with.

Sylar didn't smile, but inside he felt a bit nostalgic, remembering the smell and sounds of a library. When you couldn't see, those things were so much stronger, and now with his mutant nose and ears, it might be even more enjoyable to him if he could only read what books were there. "I miss the smell of books, and the quiet. But I'm not sure it would do much good if I can't read anything there." His words were a bit sad, showing he still held some fondness for what he lost, though he rarely thought about it till Andrea brought it up. It was cute though, how the girl was so excited for literature. Sylar didn't have any friends, even as a boy, but the other people who frequented the library were kind enough.

His tail swayed a bit, like a snake exploring it's environment. "Adventures are nice, I always enjoyed fantasy and science fiction. I loved imagining a world far more fantastic than the one I lived in." He stopped for a moment, realizing he had become a thing of science fiction all over again. "I guess I shouldn't have considering what I've turned into." The statement was a joke, but the hallow voice behind it prevented any sort of humor from reaching the girl. "Sherlock Holmes was also enjoyable." He muttered, trying to keep the subject moving forward so he didn't have to acknowledge any of his feelings in the conversation.

Blinking, she tilted her head slightly and listened. It certainly seemed like an interesting way of viewing things, and much, much different from her own visual handicap. "...Body heat?" Glancing down at herself, clad in wrinkled pajamas, she wondered what she would look like through his eyes. Would her clothes look... blueish? Wasn't that how heat-vision-or-whatever often worked on TV? Hot was red, cold was blue. So, then her skin would be orange and red, or... would her body heat up the clothes as well?

... The Greek hurriedly tried to shut down such thoughts, before she started giving her mental image a shape, and thus ruin how she figured Sylar saw her. Still, her cheeks darkened considerably and she inched herself behind a chair.

"I.. can understand that." Was her meek reply. She'd loved Greek stories when she was a child, but once she had changed it had become significantly more difficult to find the same pleasure in them as she once had. "I am mostly colorblind, so a lot of things around me are different shades of grey." Except for some of the plastic and metal things. Those things she could still see in full color, when her glasses weren't on.

"But... you should not stop that from letting you enjoy things you used to love, no? I mean, this place is full of wonderful things and people, I am sure there is a way for you to read again if you wanted too." Fidgeting, while her brain was running at full speed to find some kind of solution, she thought back to her time in the hospital.

"You know, someone could read the books for you... It is quite common for nurses and loved ones to read to patients in hospitals, I have seen it. I think it would be quite fun sharing an experience with another person, like that."

The girl mumbled a bit after Sylar explained how his vision worked. "Yeah, body heat mostly. Cars and electronics also put off alot of heat for me to see." He said in response, unaware the girl was sort of running off with his explanation as she imagined whatever it was girls thought off. He did notice however that her face brightened up a bit. "You ok? You're face got hot just now." He said bluntly, unaware that she was blushing. Hiding behind the chair wouldn't really do anything for Andrea either sadly, since the chair had no heat of it's own, hers just shown through it.

Sylar had very little interest in a person's physical shape though, generally just knowing anything person shaped was a person. So she was colorblind? Odd, weren't boys usually color blind over girls? Maybe she just had bad genes...a funny joke considering they were both mutants. Sylar didn't actually understand colors, since he'd never seen them. So he couldn't explain how he saw a world of reds, oranges, blues and grays. However he could at least explain that how the heat itself worked. "It's mostly that warm things glow and cold things don't for me I think." He sort of mumbled off, realizing it was hard to explain not having vision to someone who did, even if she was color blind.

She was certainly optimistic and bubbly it seemed, her compassion undaunted by Sylar's cynical attitude. He thought for a moment, it was probably true that he could find a way to read. But he'd just given up on it before, so now his motivation was already half dead and unable to stir even at the hope of regaining a lost talent. "I don't know, it's odd how when you just stop doing something for a few years you start to not miss it anymore." Sylar hadn't read since before his change, which meant three years without a book to read, or a story to stimulate his mind. He'd been far more distracted with staying alive, staying fed, and the craziness that had happened in the last year or so. If anything, his life was far more interesting than any old book still.

He didn't care much for her last suggestion though, Sylar didn't have friends, and he wasn't anyone's burden. "I'm not some sick old person in need of kindness. I won't be someone's burden." His voice was emotionless and probably came off as insulted or angry. But he was simply stating how he felt, Sylar had become very self sufficient, and even if he had to make excuses to take food from the Mansion he couldn't go so far as to ask someone to cover for his inability to read. He wasn't going to be pitied, never again. "I don't like needing others." He finished flatly.

It was hard to understand, and probably something she would ever really be able to relate to. She was still able to see at the worse of times, and the rest of the time she just had to take her glasses off. She did sort of understand what he was talking about though; she had loved playing the violin before she'd come to America, but once she'd rooted herself in the mansion she's lost the drive for it. Life had just become too busy... growing up, learning how to establish relationships, and how to survive in a world so alien from what she was used too.

Unfortunately, she seemed to have touched a nerve of some kind, and couldn't help but flinch when he responded to her suggestion. "Oh.. I did not mean to-..."

Stuttering, she struggled for a moment to find something to say. She was the exact opposite of what he has described... she needed people a lot, sometimes so badly that it felt like she would break when alone for too long. She had wrongly assumed that anyone in his position would welcome help, because she knew that if she were to lose her sight she would want someone willing to sit beside her and read stories to her.

"...I guess it is because I am that type of person, that such suggestions slip so easily from me." Yes, Andrea found that she fit his description quite well. Burdensome and needy. "Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you, Sylar..."

Sylar didn't really get offended, at least not to the point of caring. However his blunt tone and lack of kind words probably made him seem angry, rude, or hurt. A kind girl Andrea was, to care about the feelings of what was basically half a monster. At least that's how Sylar would have seen it. He realized she seemed to suddenly lose her footing in the conversation, becoming confused. He didn't realize it was his fault though. This was the difference between them, when it came to being alone, Sylar was great at it. He was naturally confident at the things that mattered to survival, while he was terrified of interacting with people. Where as Andrea seemed the type to get along with anyone and rely on others in times of need.

Sylar shrugged for a moment as if confused. "Offend me? I don't really get offended, you just suggested what made the most sense." He said flatly as if he couldn't even realize his words had seemed to convey a message they hadn't intended. He thought about it, and realized maybe he had sounded offended or bothered. It was true he didn't like the idea of needing someone or being a burden, but it wasn't the girl's fault for suggesting something. So he had no right to be offended by her thought. "Er I guess I'm a bit rough. I'm not good at talking to others. So I guess I should be the one apologizing." He wasn't so much apologizing, as trying to figure out what had happened aloud.

What an awkward individual Sylar was. He had enough trouble just talking to a new person, let alone making actual friends. Maybe that's why he was so taken in with Roach, who just sort of forced friendship between them without a second thought or a moment for Sylar to back out of it. "I spent the last few years living alone in the sewers, so I'm just kind of used to being alone is all I meant." He finished, trying to recover the mood so Andrea wouldn't feel bad or be worried about his mood. Sylar usually had to worry about people being so afraid of him that they ran for the police or grabbed weapons, trying not to upset a girl while talking in the kitchen was seriously way harder than that.

Her expression slackened and she tilted her head again, trying to make sense of his words in her mind. If it had just been a misunderstanding, then she could handle that! She had misunderstandings with people almost every day!

"I am not so good either, obviously... I can never tell if what is coming from my mouth means what I think it does in my head." A small smile returned to her lips, and she fiddled with the chair. It was good that she hadn't offended him. It didn't feel very good knowing she'd made someone uncomfortable or hurt.

"I this is to happen when two such as us meet though, yeah? Similar, yet different."

The snakes in her hair shifted again, some to get more comfortable while others had woken due to the smell of dinner cooking. Sloth's tongue flicked out excitedly in the direction of the oven, and after a moment his thoughts filtered into Andrea's. "Mm, I wonder if the meat is done."

She wandered back over reached for her spoon, and pried the oven open. The meat inside was bubbling around the bottom, and in places the juice was starting to thicken and brown. Prodding at it sent more juice into the bottom of the pan, and she had to quickly shut the door before Sloth could launch himself inside at the meat.

The Greek battled him back with her spoon, muttering sharp Greek words in a motherly tone, and was winning.... until the large snake wrapped himself around the spoon and attempted to swallow it. "Bad Sloth!"

Misunderstandings were a natural part of Sylar's life it seemed. "Don't worry about it, I deal with a lot worse than someone thinking they might offend me. You haven't even come at me with torches or a pitchfork yet." Sylar said jokingly, though the boys flat voice sort of neutered his attempt at a joke. "I just assume I'm usually the one at fault and let it go." Sylar said in response to her comment about what happened. It was kind of odd though, sitting here for so long and talking with someone he'd just met. Usually meeting someone new always ended in some sort of chaos or catastrophe, but Andrea was oddly calming.

She seemed to suddenly remember the food though, moving to check on it. Sylar's pallet could eat food at any point, so it had smelled edible to him the entire time, though properly cooked food still had one of the best aromas. However what happened next was truly odd. The girl seemed to suddenly be in a contest with her hair, or whatever was atop her head. She spoke words he didn't recognize, but eventually he heard some English. Sloth? Did she have a name for her hair now too? How odd.

He just sort of made a face as he stared at her for a moment before speaking. He'd forgotten to ask again about her unique hair situation. "Are you like...talking to your hair?" So her power had something to do with living hair, how odd, and this was coming from the sewer dwelling cannibal teenager. "I noticed earlier, but it definitely moves and has heat like something alive. What exactly is it?" He asked bluntly, perhaps the first time in awhile that Andrea had dealt with someone who didn't immediately notice she had a head full of living serpents instead of hair.

"Pitch forks?!" The alarm in her voice died down the moment she realized that was probably a joke. People didn't use pitch forks anymore... though torches she wasn't sure about.

At the mention of her hair, she flushed again and momentarily forgot her struggle with Sloth. The great snake took advantage of it and immediately shoved the spoon down his throat, and part of her hand. She winced as his sharp little teeth grazed her hand. "Not.. eh.. talking to hair, exactly." She'd forgotten that he couldn't see the snakes, nor her color... or probably anything else strange about her, in the same way as others. "... they are snakes."

She already missed him not knowing. In fact, she probably could have passed them off as hair and just laughed the whole thing off as a weird mutation, but even white lies were painful for her to tell. Telling the truth was just too ingrained in her. Instead, she pointed her free hand at the largest snake and smiled nervously. "This one's name is Sloth... he's pretty lazy all the time. There are others, but they do not like people very much, so they rarely come out of my hair.

One of them hissed quietly, as if mad at her for pointing them out. She clicked her tongue at them in response. "Sloth tends to try to eat anything that smells edible... like my spoon." The glare she speared at him was nullified by her glasses, but he felt it all the same. She could swear he was grinning at her...

Sylar was tempted to laugh at the girl's reaction to the joke about pitch forks, but he didn't. Sometimes he did feel like a Frankenstein's monster though, his body a mismatch of parts that didn't seem to come from the same donors. Andrea seemed a bit timid about her hair as he mentioned it, her face lighting up as the blood flew into it to show her embarrassment. Such an odd feature humans had, our faces lighting up red when we were uncomfortable with something, just in time to tell the world when we didn't want them to know.

Snakes? So she had a head full of snakes? Kind of like one of the Gorgon's out of mythology. "Like Medusa?" He asked, citing the only gorgon he could remember from when he read stories back in school. What an odd mutation to have, what purpose did snakes for hair even serve? Though he didn't say or show any negative feelings about the reveal of her hair. "So they're all individual snakes?" He wondered, was it like having a whole colony living on your head, or did they serve her will in some manner? It seemed not if this one snake was acting up on it's own to find food. Did she eat with her hair? Too many questions trying to take a hold of his brain it seemed.

"Not lazy enough it seems, willful too." Sylar said, his eyes only seeing a living wire or rope of heat atop the girl's head, as opposed to whatever details others might notice in the creature. "So your hair...snakes can eat? How unique..." Sylar mumbled as he stared at the serpent trying to digest a spoon laced with the smell of food. "Does it's wants ever conflict with your own...like in your head though, not just when it goes after the cookware?" Sylar was curious, because his mutation was sort of like having two minds in a single body. One that of the human Sylar, and the other his living instinct for hunting and predation. Did Andrea constantly have to shift through thoughts of wanting to devour mice?

Her wince at the name drop was barely covered, and she quickly tried to brush it away before it lingered in her mind. "Y-yes, but only sort of..." Instead, she turned to prying her hand out of the snakes mouth, abandoning her grip on the spoon. It was a lost cause, and there were others she could used instead. Greedily, Sloth gulped it down all the way, yawning widely before she shut his mouth and flicked his tongue in the ovens direction.

"More or less they are. There are many, but only seven large ones, and they each have their own personality. Or, so it seems to me, anyway." Using her fingers, she counted them out. "There is Sloth, Ira, Gula, Vana, avarice, lust, and hubris."

Flustered by Sloth's actions, she clasped her hands together and wriggled her thumbs. "They cannot eat, not like we can... anything they managed to get a hold of just ends up just ends up coming back out a few hours later." Like birds and pens, and hair clips.

"None of them really listen to me, or do as I ask. They are kind of like having children always around." One of the snakes hissed indignantly, and she chuckled. "They are smart enough to know things though, like when i'm talking about them, or when I am frightened, or hurt." On some level she knew she had a connection with them, whether they were trying to come to her rescue, evade being put back in a brain before she even started, or knew when she was on her way down to the kitchen to get food. She wasn't sure how deep it went, or how it worked.

"They don't tend to bother me much, but they can be stubborn. You have no idea how many times I have been stuck in chairs, or on benches, because this one doesn't want to move yet." Pointing an accusing finger at Sloth, the large snake flicked his tongue back at her. "...And... well.. sometimes, I do feel like I can hear what they want.... But... I do not know. It all sounds so strange."