Sylar
total nut!
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Post by Sylar on Apr 27, 2009 10:29:48 GMT
"Is she alive?" Sylar asked as they ploughed down the 101. it was getting dark now, Dylan had not stopped and Sylar was not inclined to stop him. Somehow the memories that name had awoken in him had managed to temper what bubbled away in his stomach.
"Who?" Dylan responded loudly, his word battling against the wind drumming in both their ears.
Sylar was silent again. He had been running through the permutations in his head. Either the brat was lying, he had researched well and thought somehow the mention of such a name would cause Sylar pause - so far that had worked; or the kid was actually a Petrelli/ Whether he was one of the Petrellis (he imagined they got about a bit, too eager to spread their seed) was the question. If he was a Petrelli then how powerful was he? If he was as powerful as his namesakes then Sylar would have to bite his tongue for a while, wait until he had retrieved his own ability and then satisfy those hungers...but what if...Elle...?
How had he got here? It was all a blur. But with the memory of that name he had remembered waiting. He had remembered watching Elle Bishop. He had remembered the burning need to protect her...he had remembered watching her and THAT man, and the intrusion of the Doctor. Suddenly then the Compound came back to him, the wonder of all that chaos, it's destruction, all the death. Had that made him behave so maddeningly, had that enlivened his hunger, clouded his rationality, smudged what control he had gained in 18 years of patience? No it couldn't be, there was something else. The clarity this moment afforded him led him to realize as much. He had not gone mad, something in him had brought about this change, something that wasn't there before the Compound, something that had not been there until the disorientation of the last fight. Then her face came back to him, the Rani, that superior smirk. He felt her hand patting his head with such disrespect. At such a thought there was a flush under his skin, a cold flush, like his grave had been walked upon.
He caught his reflection in the mirror, something was etched there upon his face for a moment. Grabbing the mirror and inspecting his features frantically, it had already gone.
"You realize you're like insane right?" Dylan spat and grabbed the mirror back so he could see. Sylar looked at him with murderous intent. "Like totally Coco-loco." Dylan elaborated with a smile.
He certainly had spark. It was only that thought which brought Sylar control. He could see Elle's smile in the corners of Dylan's mouth.
"Your mother." Sylar finally added and waited for confirmation of his worst fear. "I meant, is your mother still alive?"
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Apr 29, 2009 19:41:32 GMT
The magician sat in the fresh air, across the road from the now smoldering carnage that was once the highway cafe. His head was pushed firmly between his knees as he fought off dizzy spells, nausea, and all the other symptoms associated with panic attacks. Whilst he tried to catch the breath that escaped him, Marv watched the Doctor pace backwards and forwards along the dried out grass verge on which he was seated. She was perplexed by him, that much was obvious, even to a socially inept boy such as himself.
However, at this moment he could not worry for himself, for he trusted the Doctor inexplicably, though never with his secret. What he worried for, was his only friend; Dylan, who had been seduced by the dark side and escaped with Sylar.
Whilst the Doctor schemed, rambled to herself about stealing the car that the biker gang now had strictly under guard, making lists and counting on fingers; Magic Marv romanticised. He likened his friend to Anakin Skywalker, from the 20th Century George Lucas classics, and considered himself Obi Wan, an almost all powerful being that would fight to win back his friend from the thrall of the evil emperor. Of course, in Star Wars, that had not quite gone according to plan.
But he should not have worried quite so strongly for his friends sanity, for right at that moment, Dylan was loosing his enthusiasm for being in a vehicle with the anti-hero he considered an idol. The dude was freaking him out, talking about his mother like he knew her intimately. Surly she would have told him if she knew the infamous Gabriel Gray? Surely she would never have left his side? He swallowed hard as Sylar eyed him up, as if he was a the starter course of a very large meal.
"Is your mother alive?"
Dylan didn't quite know how to respond, fearing he might anger the man, and so he squeaked a string of a non committal vowels, and turned his eyes back to the road. It was strange, despite his growing terror, came awe, and desire. If only he could command such a sinister persona, the boys at school wouldn't bully him so.
And then his thoughts returned to Marv, and more than anything, he hoped his friend was OK.
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Sylar
total nut!
Posts: 1,375
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Post by Sylar on May 6, 2009 8:27:33 GMT
While being chauffeured up the 101 by a juvenile driver was just a barrel of laughs, which in his wildest dreams Sylar could not have hoped to have experienced before the sweet sweet release of death, he had to admit that it afforded him an opportunity to muse.
He would not allow himself to sleep, Sparky was a Petrelli and while he was grateful for the ride he was not about to trust the runt, both eyes would remain open. But it was growing dark now, and the warm air which had been whipping around their ears had drawn cold.
"Pull over." Sylar said darkly.
"Um, why?" Dylan Petrelli asked warily, "I'll barbeque your eyebrows you know, I'm not nibbles."
Sylar smiled.
"Unless you have the ability to put up the top while going at ninety k..."
Dylan pulled over.
When they were stationary and the top had closed down on the pair Sylar fixed Dyan with a stare, a first class Sylar-special-powerless-or-not-let's-see-what-you-look-like-inside-out sort of a stare. He was hungry, his stomach was rumbling painfully and his head hurting from the cold air (and something else) he had killed powerful people that day, one more was not hard.
"I'm driving." He insisted, and snatched the keys out of the kid's dry palm.
When they were on the road again and he had grown bored of the terrible music the local rock-radio was blaring out, and which Dylan insisted giving him a running back-history of with each new track, Sylar interrupted.
"I'm not interested unless they somehow gained the ability to subliminally influence the hormonally challenged, and something tells me an ability isn't required to do that...Tell me about Pinehurst, your parents and how they're involved...now." Sylar threatened, all he had managed to get from the Principle before he choaked on his own stress toy was the name and the city. He would need to know more before he was confident they could help him...learning what he had about what had been done to him he somehow doubted they would. Which effectively meant he was just taking a very long detour for take-out...that, at least, would be the excuse he would tell the Doctor before he turned around and demanded she sort out the problem her freaky friend had laid at his door...After all. It was the least she could do. He had saved her life, more than once. Both of them knew that wasn't really his thing.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on May 7, 2009 14:54:49 GMT
Just as Dylan was pulling over, the Doctor was taking off. Even with the warm seductive tones of her new body, her words could easily confuse. Adolescent boys with thoughts of grandeur couldn't help to be both, simultaneously allured and intimidated by her. Though the car was under lock and key, thanks to Brutus, one of the weaker more easily manipulatable lads quickly gave up the keys to his motor bike. With the sleek, growling beast firmly clasped between her thighs, and the boy; Marv, clinging tightly to her back; the Doctor roared away, leaving nothing but a dust cloud and embarrassed youths in her wake.
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Sylar
total nut!
Posts: 1,375
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Post by Sylar on May 22, 2009 17:23:23 GMT
"Look," Dylan said eventually, "Me and my mom, we don't really get on alright, I haven't talked to her in a year. I'm like a disappointment or something. I mean what would she know! I bet she's never done anything wrong in her life...And I never knew my Dad so don't even ask. I don't even use my name at School...I'd get picked on sooo much worse, or need like bodyguards or something, I mean I'm not like super super super powered like some of them, I'm organic. One boring old power and I can't even use that right half the time." He sighed and kicked the dash with his boots, scratching his fingers through his greasy dark hair. "Seriously, I can do like nothing right, I didn't even mean to toast that woman, not like that..."
"You liked it though, right?" Sylar questioned quietly. Dylan didn't answer.
"You were going to tell me about Pinehearst then?"
"Oh...fine. It's like this place they give boring old normal people powers. There aren't many organics like me, there was this big...well Mom called it something euphemistic, but it was like ethnic cleansing or something, i read about that on the net. They rounded all the Org's up and gave them this drug...it was illegal to be an unregistered Special you see, people were worried we were gonna kill em all or something... that's your fault by the way. And then there was a coupla years when people went underground, and then there were a coupla...look my history's crap and I was only like five..."
"Carry on." Sylar insisted in his best insistant tone.
"..oh I dunno rebellions, insurgencies and whatever...so they were all rounded up and given these drugs so they couldn't use their powers. But it sort of killed most of them. Then there were a coupla people who survived, there always is Mom says, and so occasionally an Org pops up, like Marv...like me...missed the radar. They don't make us take the drugs any more. But we have to go that Godforsaken High along with all the Gens Pinehearst knocks out - most of them make it through Heroes class, then they have to join the army, go off and kick butt overseas because we're the only place that killed off our specials, everyone else grew theirs into like armies and stuff...Aaaaaaaaanyway. I don't want to join the f***ing army! Whatever Mom says..."
"Interesting." Was all Sylar would say.
You have arrived at your desitnation said the sat nav.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on May 24, 2009 20:56:43 GMT
The room passed before her eyes in a blur of mahogany and pink. It was nauseating, and yet exhilarating simultaneously, a moment of adrenaline in what would have been a normal boring work day. The middle aged bleached blond stomped her feet down on the ground, bracing herself against the momentum that turned her stomach and made her brain roll.
The chair ceased its spin, her blue eyes came to rest upon the photo of herself, younger, prettier, thinner; and her boyfriend and son who were now both long gone. She sighed, before turning her gaze back to the computer screen. A database of names, addresses, notes stood before her, a continuous stream of dull data analysis that would never be done, and yet needed to be. She sighed again, twisted a loose strand of hair around her index finger as she contemplated taking an early lunch and getting ice cream from the van just down the road.
The phone rang.
She hesitated a moment before snapping it up, a fake smile spreading across her face, as if it could be heard on the other end of the line.
"The President on line 1 for you Ms Bishop." Came the somewhat annoying voice of her secretary, who was both younger and prettier than she. Maybe she would fry her insides just for that. Maybe she would flash lightening at her feet and watch her dance. Maybe...
"Elle? Line 1 for you."
"Yes Candice, I've got it!" She snapped, before straightening her blouse and pressing the button for line one.
"Mr President, hi. Yes, I think we have a problem."
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Sylar
total nut!
Posts: 1,375
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Post by Sylar on May 25, 2009 16:52:03 GMT
In front of the car stood a tall glass building glittering blue in the dipping Californian sun. Flanked by palm trees and stupidly expensive cars the imposing Primatech Research Building was one of many across the country, so Dylan informed Sylar, "Except this one has a pool."
"A pool?"
"Yeah, go figure, management refit. I hate California." Dylan sneered.
"Get out." Sylar insisted, opening the doors to the car. He straightened his tie, took his glasses out of the glove-compartment along with an interesting blank piece of paper he had found when he had slipped on the suit he had found in the TARDIS wardrobe. He folded the wallet back on itself and slipped it into his pocket.
"What's that supposed to be," Dylan looked at it closely, "WKSY News?"
"Don't ask." Sylar said, sick of the kid's voice, if he wasn't in need of a trigger-happy fireball to throw in the direction of anyone who got in his way he would have cut the kid's throat already.
"You'd what!" Dylan exclaimed, pointing at the paper hanging from Sylar's pocket. "I'm not trigger happy..."
Sylar smacked Dylan around the head. "Do as your told." He insisted and checked the paper again, he would have to concentrate, no wandering hunger-lust for at least ten minutes. He calmed himself, it was not easy, he could feel the itch in his fingertips, the sight of blood on his shirt made excitement bubble in his gut. Not long, he thought, he could contain it a little while longer.
He pointed to a crowd of people outside the building, a small collection of ants in the shadow of a beast, pumping their placards to the skies. "You want to be special? You want to prove you're better than nothing, that you deserve that ability you have?" Dylan nodded. "Then join that crowd, and when I arrive, back me up."
"That all?" Dylan asked sarcastically.
Sylar nodded, "As much as slicing my way in through that crowd would make me the happiest man alive right now...sometimes you have to hold back to get things done." He ushered Dylan out of the car, "Ten minutes." Sending the kid away for a little while would do him good. "I need ten minutes." and killing him now wouldn't help, even if he wanted to, even if he really really needed to.
"Now." Sylar insisted.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on May 26, 2009 14:32:33 GMT
And they were off. Motorbikes, cars, hover boards, and one young lad running up behind, doing up his flies and waving his spare hand: "Wait for me!"
It was an unusual ensemble of youths, sporting spiky hair does, pierced noses, preppy cuts, helmets and bandannas. It was like the conga of motor racing, which imbued the Doctor with a certain giddiness, which emerged from grinning lips in song and hoots of laughter.
"Come on do the conga!" she shrieked when she realised they were gaining on them, kicking her legs out dangerously causing the bike to wobble uncontrollably. More throttle was in order, and that was what she got.
"Still luvin' these high speed chases!" She shouted over the noise of the engine and gravel below, to Marv who was clinging to her waist for dear life. "Still better with two." And it would be even better once she found Sylar. Or, maybe not.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on May 27, 2009 8:23:37 GMT
An eerie silence, accompanied by a low pitch buzzing loomed through the phone for an uncomfortable minute. Finally the man on the other end responded.
"Well?" "We have another one. Specimen 384, ought to be destroyed, and I was thinking..." "You don't need my permission Elle." "Yes, I know, but I thought..." "Ability?" "Cosmology, he can tell the future of things, I thought..." "Intriguing." "My thoughts exactly." She gave a small laugh of relief. She always felt nervous when dealing with this President, a little bit flustered. In a way he was a daddy figure to replace the one she had recently lost. She constantly clambered for his approval. One day she would get it.
"Was that it?" His soft, even voice danced across the line again, the silence having stretched too long once more. He had given no indication to his plans, whether he would be coming, whether Elle had done good. It was frustrating beyond words.
Determined not to get aggravated she pushed away from her desk, her wheeled chair carrying her gracefully to the window, where she looked down many stories to the throngs of ants outside the entrance of Pinehearst.
"Erm, no. The protesters..." "You always have protesters." "Yes, but they're getting rowdy." "Don't you have security there?" "Yes but..." "Then get rid of them."
The phone on the other end hung up, leaving Elle furiously glaring down the end of her receiver.
"You slimy smelly male chauvinistic... PIG."
She shorted out the phone as she hung up.
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Sylar
total nut!
Posts: 1,375
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Post by Sylar on May 27, 2009 15:26:41 GMT
Scratching his head and padding truculently into the crowd of protestors Dylan believed wholeheartedly he had just been 'ditched'. He hated Pinehearst. He hated that it was his mother's job to create the cretins that picked on he and his friends. He hated that just because he accidentally flombe'd her favorite couch. because she 'couldn't deal with him' he had to go to some crap school...if it hadn't been for Marv he'd probably have tried to run away again.
"ORGANIC ALL THE WAY" "NATURE'S THE WAY" "NOT OUR HEROES"
Read the placcards. Very eloquent. THought Dylan. He had taken part in a few protests himself in his early teens, but his mom didn't rise to the bait, it wasn't worth it in the end.
"Hey." he said to a particularly hairy guy in a knitted jumper who had he stentch of coconut milk on his shoulder, and a very artistically drawn placcard depicting a needle with a cross through it. Very ban-the-bomb, thought Dylan.
"Hey." Acknowledged the guy and waved his placcard in a security guy's face.
"How's it going?" Dylan asked casually.
"Pretty fine till they sent out the goons." Hairy said. "Uneven fight now."
"Yeah well, depends what they gave them." Dylan explained, "they don't generally juice them up with the expensive stuff. You'll find they're just very strong, probably. They don't give them anything cerebral in case they turn...plus they're all as thick as pig-crap."
Hairy looked sterly at Dylan, "You seem to know a lot."
"I do my research." Dylan explained and looked out into the distance to see if the car had gone. It was still there.
The crowd was about forty-strong now, against five burly men who were one-hundred percent neck. Dylan knew the odds though. Within five minutes the protestors would give up and go home. It was a daily routine.
"You know it makes them sterile too right?" Dylan said very loudly, one of the Necks looked over. Disregarded Dylan and went about trying to man handle a blonde girl with huge glasses, flat shoes and a placard displaying 'Make Love, not Drugs". Dylan wandered over to help her out but the girl quickly threw the man aside.
"Not that uneven," said Dylan when he returned to Hairy's side. "Uneven enough, violence doesn't get you anywhere." Hairy said. "Oh I don't know...you don't seem to be getting very far." Dylan said. "I've been to loads of these little gatherings, you're no more than an itch in the butt-crack of a giant. No one cares you know. They'll keep doing it, they have government sponsorship you know..."
"If you believe the conspiracy theories." Hairy admitted.
"You know what I think?" Dylan said absently, he checked his watch, he was bored already. "What do you think kid?" Hairy asked snidely. "I think they know something's coming." He admitted, "I think they're afraid. They're afraid of the people underneath them, they're afraid of an uprising."
Hairy looked at Dylan open mouthed. "Think about it...like the bees got killed by the wasps didn't they, I saw it on Discovery.com...like vast numbers of wasps with tiny little stings eating these massive great big bees...one day it'll happen, whether people have powers or not. Majority rules dude."
"Interesting theory." A voice from the crowd said, "Care to make that a formal statement?" Said Sylar. He smiled, he was carrying a video camera at his thigh, a large portable-news camera. In the distance Dylan saw a news van. The door wide open...DYlan could swear he saw a foot. So that was what he needed ten minutes for, or was it a coincidence... Hairy stepped forward and held out his hand.
"Ken Dwight." He introduced, "PAP...People Against Pinehearst, San Fransico, you must be from the station Kayley said she'd call..."
"I must be." Sylar smiled. "And you people always call. You seem to think people are interested? But it seems to be a waste of time as usual." Sylar said in professed disappointment and set to walk away.
"Wait!" Dylan called. He had to admit he was curious to see how this would play out. He had to admit, he didn't like Hairy very much.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on May 29, 2009 21:15:46 GMT
His walk could only be described as a swagger, as swept down corridors under the watchful gaze of Presidents past. His ego swelled with each passing politician, their eyes dropping downward to the blue and white carpet under foot. It was an act of submission, their confidence waning as he smiled at them. It made him giggle to himself, though he would never allow this to be known, instead his glee expressed itself in a jaunty whistle that caused his employees to falter in their step. The power of his position was like a drug, exhilarating, intoxicating, to a point where he was almost entirely corrupted by it. Yet he was the greatest President the United States had ever known, elected three times in succession and still he was perched quite confidently on top of all opinion polls.
"Ivan. Helicopter." Transportation had become as easy as that. No more waiting for taxis. Heaven forbid should he use public transport. No, today he used his own private helicopter, it was the only way to travel. Ivan, the favourite of all his pions, rushed off to make it so, a curt "right away Sir" flung over as he went, leaving the young brunette girl to man the phones.
"Good morning." He said, leaning over the desk, cocking an eyebrow and smiling flirtatiously in a way that the media called "dashing" and Heat magazine stated was "utter gorgeous." Little did any of them know that he was mocking them. They were his toys to be used, nothing more, nothing less.
New girl was quite obviously flustered by his friendly advances, and blushed an attractive shade of crimson. She looked down and away. Another one broken, and so quickly.
Sadly he had no time left to play, Ivan had returned.
"Helicopter will be ready in five, Mr President. Have a nice day."
The President in question smiled, patted the young chap on the shoulder, and headed out toward the helipad, whistling all the while.
Round and round the cobbler's bench The monkey chased the weasel, The monkey thought 'twas all in fun Pop! Goes the weasel.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Jun 8, 2009 19:23:13 GMT
Elle watched from the window as ten of her highly trained security team piled out of the front doors, ready to take some kind of violent action against the protesters. Sporting their tight black uniforms, specially designed to show off their bulging biceps, broad shoulders and thick necks, Elle giggled with something akin to glee. She loved watching her boys in action. She often "accidentally" left cell doors open, just so she could watch them get hot and sweaty as they man handle the poor specimens back into their cages. Just thinking about it made her feel a little warm on the inside. Maybe she would pop downstairs and take a closer look.
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Sylar
total nut!
Posts: 1,375
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Post by Sylar on Jun 13, 2009 11:15:30 GMT
Sylar turned on his heals and looked at the kid with his most serious of faces just as the doors to the office block opened and the handful of security guards encouraging the protestors to move on were swelled by bigger, uglier, sweatier and vastly more threatening. Everyone turned and looked.
"That's more like it." Sylar said and hoiked the camera onto his shoulder theatrically.
Ken Dwight rolled his eyes and lowered his placcard. "Well that's that then." He said.
"What!" Dylan spat, "You could totally take them, there's crowds of you."
"This is a peaceful pro-" Ken began, one of the larger guards began to manhandle the strong blonde again, and though she had appeared to be their wild card before this time she was no match for the guard. At the sounds of her hearty protests Ken looked back, "Janet!" He called.
The blonde Janet attempted to acknowledge him but she was soon too far away to be heard.
"You're going to let them get away with that?"
"We can't take them." Ken admitted with a shrug. "Who knows what they can do?"
Sylar smiled, "They neutralise abilities, that's all." He said, "it's obvious. There's no point having a security team with any kind of power that could be dangerous to those that hire them. Dragging away the only one amongst you who can put up a fight is a scare tactic."
Dylan looked at Sylar with an impressed sort of smile on his face. Not that Sylar would admit he had noticed. Ken looked at the 'reporter' in astonishment. "Trust me." Sylar said in his most trustworthy tone, "they're more scared of you than you are of them."
"Yeah!" Added Dylan, backing Sylar up as he had asked, but with gusto, conviction and clearly with an urge to join in himself, "YEAH!" He repeated, punching his fist into the air.
And so, with defiance Ken threw down his placcard and launched himself at one of the guards. The rest of PAP followed.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Jun 17, 2009 11:46:39 GMT
Meanwhile, whilst Dylan and Sylar were at stand still, inciting riots and having a gay old time; their friends were on the move, and enjoying the stupidity of their pursuers. It had turned into a little game between Marv and the Doctor, to come up with the most imaginative way to loose the hoards of "heroes" on their tail. Already they had doubled back on themselves, turned off their headlights whilst driving under a tunnel, and set up a Dick Dastardly style trap on the side of the road. There were but the smartest remaining, and so they would have to think on their feet.
"Why don't we drop a boulder on them?" Marv suggested with a small snicker. The road trip had acted as a bonding experience for the pair, and already the young introvert was coming out of his shell.
"Someones been watching classic Wylie Coyote. Sadly no boulder." The pair had a chuckle and continued onward.
"How about, we blow up a giant balloon in the road, and pop it with a pea shooter, and KABLAM!" Marv waved his hands in the air almost falling to his doom as he lost balance and very nearly toppled from the bike.
"Aren't you a magician?" The Doctor asked, hoping to put the boys young talents to the test, "How about the greatest illusion the world has ever seen?"
They were not the only ones on the move. A young, but somewhat charismatic President of the United States, had settles down with a cup of tea on his turbo charged gyro-copter. They would arrive at Pinehearst in a matter of minutes, and boy what an arrival he had planned. He always liked to arrive in style, and so often had pyrotechnics set up read to great him at his destinations. Today would be no different. He'd give the crowd something to enjoy, and perhaps gain himself a few more column inches on the wireless news feed.
"We will be arriving shortly Mr President, please put on your seat belt."
Of course, safety first, the President complied. It would after all be a bumpy ride.
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Sylar
total nut!
Posts: 1,375
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Post by Sylar on Jun 21, 2009 10:24:27 GMT
The protesters and the security guards threw each other into the mele, it was an even fight, in sheer numbers the could overwhelm the dozen brutes Pinehearst had thrown their way. But the thugs were still more than a match in strength and training. They would be at it, Sylar judged, a long time. Dylan hitched up his sleeves eager, it seemed, to join in the fight. Sylar grabbed hold of his shirt. As much as leaving the child behind to get his jaw bloodied would give him the kind o self satisfaction only a sworn enemy of his father's could enjoy, and though he could do with going ahead alone the kid was, at that time, his only form of protection. And if he came up against more power sucking security guards then a human shield was a useful item.
"That's not what we're here for." Sylar said and pulled Dylan along towards the entrance.
"Then what the hell was all that about."
Sylar rolled his eyebrows. They walked straight through the front door into the hometically sealed atrium. "Ever heard of the concept of a diversion?" Sylar asked laconically and pointed to the empty security office.
He grabbed hold of a heavy metal chair and with the most pleasant of exertions threw it at the security office window.
The glass shattered.
"Off you go then." He said when the last shard had fallen.
"Um, what?" Dylan pressed.
"Intruder Window." Sylar said flatly. He did amuse himself sometimes.
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