mynameissylar

NW with paintonhigh

2007-06-24T20:18:07Z

The showdown (or is it?)

One-on-one with paintonhigh for nine_wonders

paintonhigh:

He had seen it all, in his mind's eye. A drug induced high which had brought on the most powerful and painful vision of his life. Last time he'd almost killed himself with the drugs he'd woken up atop a mural depicting the explosion of New York spread right across the floor. Now, now he was going to see how it all happened.

He couldn't control his ability like this. His hand would paint whatever his mind saw. And now he seemed to be forever stuck on repeat painting his own death. It was as if killing Simone had cemented his own fate. Perhaps he deserved this for destroying everything he cared about. He could not save Simone. But there was at least one thing he cared about which he could save - New York. His beloved city. But to do this he'd have to sacrifice himself.

At least that's what he initially thought. He saw everything happen - saw Sylar kill him, saw Sylar take his powers and begin to paint his own death. He was doomed to the same fate Isaac had been. One piece after another depicting how Peter Petrelli would hunt him down, and the comic - well Isaac spelt that one out plain and simple. Hiro was to run him through with a sword. And the only way he could ensure Hiro would ever see this was to put the image in the pages of a comic book which he would hopefully read in time. And give it to Nick - the most untrustworthy of all people who was forever leaking out plotlines to the public.

Isaac slipped the hand-drawn comic into an envelope and closed the flap. He studied it in his hands, every little line of ink that stained the outside of the golden paper. This was his final moment. That one that would lead to his death. In a rewind of a future!flash moment he had seen it all happen after this. The door to his studio loft opened and he glanced up at the young man who entered the building.

"You'd do anything for a preview, wouldn't you?" Isaac said with a knowing smile.

mynameissylar:

The door squeaked and Sylar was instantly alarmed. Who would visit Suresh? He barely knew anyone in this country. And other than the phone calls they had made to the various people on the list he had never heard Suresh even speak to anyone but him.

"Suresh?"

The voice ringing through the air sparked a pang of recognition in Sylar's eyes. A smirk slowly but siginifcantly crept across his face. It was one of them.

The moment Peter came into view he pinned the man against the wall, his forearm pressed under the other's chin, making it near impossible for him to speak.

"I remember you. You are like me, aren't you?" He said. Tilting his head to his side he squinted his eyes and focussed on the man's brain. "I'd like to see how that works", he stated matter-of-factly.

Raising the index finger of his right hand into the air he used his telekinetic abilities to cut open Peter's forehead, the scream that instantly filled the otherwise quiet air did not break Sylar's concentration. He was used to it by now, and he even felt a mutated feeling of joy creep through his body when he heard it. However, what followed did surprise him. Sylar witnessed something quite unexpected; Peter's forehead healed mere seconds after he had cut it open. Momentarily caught of guard he loosened his grip on Peter in which his opponent took the opportunity to give him a full telekinetic blow to the chest. Sylar slammed fully into a closet. His limb body slid on the floor, quickly buried under books and pieced of shelves.

Losing contact with Mohinder the man quickly fell on the ground as well.

Sylar opened his eyes; he saw Mohinder falling but chose to ignore that fact. The man was insignificant, harmless; he had far bigger priorities now. He had seen a glimpse of Peter's powers and they were delicious. He simply had to obtain them. He'd deal with Suresh later.

Within seconds he stood on his feet again, across from Peter, ready for the fight he knew beforehand he would win.

Peter glanced at Suresh; did he honestly think he could save them? That was quite pathetic.

"No, no", Sylar mocked him, "I am not done with him yet."

Peter started suddenly started to vanish before his eyes, but this time he made sure to not get caught of guard because of this.

"Interesting, I can't wait to try that one", he simply stated as he already got ready for his next move.

Staying absolutely silent he could hear their heartbeats. It only took Sylar seconds to define the difference between Mohinder's and Peter's. Mohinder's heartbeat was racing fast and irregular, the man was obviously frightened to death. Where Peter's was entirely different on its own. Fear mingled with excitement? Interesting.

Still looking around him, seemingly unmoved, he spread his long fingers and slowly brought them up, and with them the shards of glass that lay all across the apartment. They quietly hovered into the air until he was absolutely certain where in the room Peter was standing. With a single flick of his fingers the pieces of glass shot all across the room, one of them hitting Peter right in the back of the head. The man instantly dropped dead on the floor.

Sylar cocked his head to his side and looked at Peter's inner workings, absorbing the pieces that were broken.

Approaching his now dead opponent he was already mentally taking Peter's brain apart. It completely consumed his own mind and he heard Mohinder approach too late. The map hit him straight in the chest, knocking him hard against the wall after which he unconsciously slid on the floor.

(TBC)

Last updated: June 24

NW with daughterof_evil

2007-05-20T13:43:39Z

Ice cream.

One-on-one with daughterof_evil for nine_wonders.

daughterof_evil

After she and Peter parted ways, Sasha decided to make a run for ice cream at the place closest to the park. She had never been there before, but there was a fairly long line of people waiting to be served. You could always tell if something was good by how many people were willing to wait for it, so she walked in, standing in back of a tale dark haired man who was reading a newspaper.

There had to be at least 30 flavors on the menu, and she had no idea what Claire would like. Actually, there was very little that she knew about her fake cousin the indestructible cheerleader and illegitimate Petrelli. Maybe that would change over the course of the week she had to get to know her, but it definitely wasn't helping Sasha out at the moment. Peter was a chocolate chip cookie dough fan though, so at least she knew where to start. He was getting a small container of that whether he felt like mixing things up or not. One down, one to go. Why was this so overwhelming, anyway?

Sasha realized she was making too big a deal out of this and sighed, shaking her head at her own insecurity. It wasn't as if Claire was going to hate her if she brought home the wrong flavor of ice cream. Still, she was hoping that they would get along. Peter's newly discovered niece was important to him, and that made her important to Sasha too.

Deciding to just give up and go with something random, she reached forward to lightly tap the shoulder of the man in front of her, and smiled when he turned to face her.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but do you know what's good here? I would love a recommendation, I'm just trying this place for the first time and they have a whole lot of flavors--which is a good thing if your brain isn't already overloaded with things to think about--but for me its just a little much."

mynameissylar

After a sudden, unexplainable craving for ice cream he joined a long line of people in front of the first decent looking ice cream store he passed. Odd timing perhaps, but Sylar didn't care. So what if it would take another thirty minutes before he could 'devour' his next victim? In the end it didn't really matter; as long as his ultimate goal was reached. A smirk crept over his face as the prospect of the future entered his mind. A future where he possessed so many powers he was invincible. Or even more importantly; where he was truly special. The most special person there would be.

The facial features of the man behind the newspaper changed from questionable to pure evil; a menacing glint hinting through in his eyes.

A soft hand suddenly tapped his shoulder and Sylar slowly lowered his newspaper. He folded it up neatly before tucking it under his arm and turning around. He locked eyes with a young woman and instantly a charming smile spread over his lips. Her choice of words was most interesting, to say the least, and he had to suppress himself from letting out an inappropriate chuckle.

He did not have an immediate answer to her query though, this was the first time he was at this particular ice cream place as well. God, when had been the last time he even had ice cream? Five, ten years ago? He failed to remember. It felt like a life time ago, and in a way it was. He was a different person then, with different occupations, different priorities.

Realising the woman was still awaiting an answer he quickly searched his mind for the menu he had seen so briefly before turning around to face her. She was right, there were about thirty flavours all-together, one sounding even more indefinable than the next. Raspberry pavlova, highland fling, forest fruits, honeycomb..., what had happened to the once so simple strawberry or chocolate, he wondered.

He randomly picked two flavours from the list, figuring none of them would be awful. If they were there wouldn't be such a long line up; especially not early November.

"Don't worry about it", he said, "I am always happy to help out. The fudge toffee and butter pecan are great; is it just for you or are you buying ice cream for someone else as well?"

daughterof_evil

"Thank you." She grinned. "Its mostly for my cousin. She's flying in from Texas to spend a few days with me, and I wanted to make sure that my fridge isn't totally empty when she gets here. I'm getting a container or two for us to share." Sasha answered, so comfortable with this lie that she showed no hesitation or uncertainty whatsoever. She was actually glad that he had asked her about it, because this was an opportunity for her to practice what she would say to anyone who might question her about it.

It was a little weird, getting used to the idea that someone might actually care about what you were up to because your fake boyfriend's brother was someone 'important'. Sasha had never dealt with anything like this, even when her father was running Hoffman Publishing, because her family was much more, well, introverted. They worked, donated, and lived quietly unless there was a party too big to miss. Usually it was a benefit of some kind, or an important business contact's event--never politics.

Never politics, until now.

"I haven't seen her in years though, I have no idea what she would like. That's why I was compelled to ask someone. I don't want to be the neglectful cousin who buys crappy ice cream, you know?"

She thought it was a valid idea. And even if it wasn't, what did this man care? New Yorkers didn't really give a damn about anything, even when they were nice enough to recommend the good ice cream flavors to you.

mynameissylar

Something dark and unknown flashed behind Sylar's eyes when the woman mentioned Texas. The change was brief and could be missed with a blink of an eye, but it had been there nonetheless.

The last time he'd been in Texas he had realised for the first time in nearly six months he wasn't yet invincible. His plan to kill the cheerleader and obtain her regeneration power to accomplish just that had been interrupted abruptly by Peter Petrelli, the man obviously had no control over his powers but he'd been lucky and temporary knocked Sylar out.

Defenceless as a wounded animal he'd left the high school without Claire's power, only to be captured by them. The days that followed had been most uneasy to say the last and even after he managed to get away from the clutches of Bennet for a second time he did not get what he came for; Claire's power. Even while just thinking of it he could feel the longing for that ability pull his desires, he wanted it so badly. He could almost taste the possibilities of the power on his lips. He had been so close, but close wasn't good enough; it never was.

Of course he wasn't telling any of that to the complete stranger opposite him. Instead, the charming smile remained upon his face as he briefly said, "Texas is lovely this time of the year. Very... green." He heard his mother's words echo in the back of his head.

"I don't want to be the neglectful cousin who buys crappy ice cream, you know?" The woman said as they moved further in the queue.

"There is no crappy ice cream", Sylar simply replied. "And if you're still uncertain what to buy just take vanilla, that always works. Add a handful of sprinkles and you got yourself a guaranteed success", he added matter-of-factly.

Last updated: June 24

NW open to mister_no_one

2007-04-29T12:55:27Z

For Claude at nine_wonders, set a few years before 'Six Months Ago'.

Gabriel Gray was leaning in closely to the tiny device he was holding in between his long fingers. He handled it with extreme care, as if the instrument of time was so delicate, so fragile, it would fall apart with the smallest wrong movement he might make.

Narrowing his eyes slightly he looked through his special magnifying glasses to examine the inner body of the watch he was working on. He'd been studying this particular piece for days now and though it was working again the sound of the ticking mechanism was still slightly off. The instrument was running a second too fast.

Gabriel knew he was close to fixing it and his trained eyes wandered over the inner body until he finally found the flaw in the design. A soft smile came across his lips and an accomplished feeling ran through his veins as he replaced the tiny particle that had caused the problem. When he was done he held the watch near his right ear, just to make sure it was working perfectly again.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

There was an exact second between each tick the watch made. He felt pleased having been able to fix it.

The doorbell rang and Gabriel placed the watch carefully on his work desk. He first made sure all his instruments were in the right place before he took off his glasses and turned around to see who had entered the watch store. The man didn't seem familiar to him, it wasn't a regular customer.

Standing up from his chair Gabriel said, "Can I help you?"

NW open to mybrothershadow

2007-04-17T19:59:15Z

They were everywhere, he could feel them.

At first it had just been a vague sense of someone like himself being not too far, someone with a special ability within hands reach. So tempting, yet the feeling was still too scrambled to actually point an exact location. It was so frustrating to know that the powers were so near, yet untouchable.

That was weeks ago though, his own power had developed and it was like a sixth sense now. They were indeed everywhere and he didn't just felt it, he knew it. From miles away he could sense them and had he been interested he'd have their heads cut open within seconds, devouring the power and leaving the former owner for dead. But he wasn't interested in them all, not yet. He was on a mission. There were some powers that were far more significant than others, tugging his sense and teasing his desires. One of them was walking only a good 50 feet in front of him.

Sylar dug his hands deeper inside his pockets as he fastened his pace. A baseball cap was shrouding most of his face in shadow as he moved swiftly towards his target. He couldn't do anything yet, not here, in the park. Not that any of the people jogging, biking or running alongside him could do him any harm, he was more powerful than all of them combined. But he didn't want to attract any unwanted attention, thus decided to keep following his victim and wait with the attack until they had reached a less crowded area.

It wasn't long until they left the open space of the park and made their ways alongside deserted buildings and through back alleys. The sound of one pair of footsteps echoed through the small streets. If his victim was to turn around Sylar would no longer have a very likeable excuse as to why he was walking the exact same route, but he knew he'd think of something. Half the fun of killing after all was what happened before it. The observing, near stalking, and the discovery of what made his victims tick.

An expression that could only be described as a smile appeared upon his face as the distance between himself and his victim decreased. It was now or never.

tick, tock, tick, tock.

heroes_prompts #1 [locked]

2007-04-11T10:08:43Z

Have you ever wanted to be special, to be somehow different from how you seem to be? Why or why not? If you were to become (or have become) special, how would you like your life to change?

When I was a kid I used to wish some stranger would come and tell me my family wasn't really my family. They weren't bad people, they were just insignificant and I wanted to be different; special. I wanted to change. A new name, a new life. But the watchmaker's son became a watchmaker.

It was so futile that I wanted to be important.

Everything changed the day Chandra Suresh walked into my store, telling me that I was in fact important; special. For the first time in my life the longing controlling my body was not just idle hope for something that was never going to happen. I had always known I was special and I was no longer alone with this thought.

I read all 465 pages of Activating Evolution in the days that followed. No I didn't just read them, I devoured them--my eager mind digesting every word of every sentence and with each that entered my head my life started to make more sense. This book was about me; I had finally found confirmation of my feelings and a new, better purpose in life.

I still had a long way to go. Though I was certain Suresh had made the right choice to come to me, he slowly but noticeably started to show signs of doubt. The one man that had ever understood the strong desire I've had to be special, the one man that believed in me, was giving up. I couldn't let that happen. No matter what it would take I would prove to him he had been right; that I was right.

So I took the address of someone else from the list, Brian Davis. I needed to meet him, see for myself why he was so important. Why he was supposedly so much better than me. And when I finally laid my eyes upon him everything fell into place. The solution to Suresh's problem proved to be far more simple than could be expected and I had found it. Me, a watchmaker's son, had found the answer to a scientific question a geneticist failed to discover.

It wasn't about having something the insignificant people don't have, on contrary, it's missing something--a flaw in the design of human beings. Brian Davis was broken and I was the only one who could fix him. He begged me to help him after all and all I did was obey his request.

I knew it would be hard for Chandra to comprehend this answer though. All these years he'd been searching for that extra something that made these chosen people special where now it turned out the opposite was the case. I decided to not tell him what I had seen. All I ever wanted was to be acknowledged as special and there were now other ways I could reach this goal. And Chandra would have finally found prove for his theories; he'd no longer be known as the once brilliant professor who had lost mind while trying to tell the world about seemingly foolish theories. It was a win-win situation.

Since then my life has changed drastically. I have a new name, new priorities, a new goal. I still fix things, there just not watches anymore. What I do now is much more important than that. After all, I am special.

Godsend [locked]

2007-04-10T18:26:45Z

Gabriel lay motionless inside his isolated room. Bloodshot eyes contrasted the pale yellow face indicating his state of being. Any kind of feeling had left his body long ago. His mouth stood half-open and he was unable to move even his tongue over his cracked lips. He just lay there. Numb. Bordering on the edge of unconsciousness or worse; death.

His eyes were open, but they could have just as well been shut; they did not register anything that was happening in the confined space directly in front of him.

For days he had desperately tried to keep himself sane and awake by challenging that part of him that was skilled the most: his brains. Each time they came inside his sultry cell to test him, he had tested them too. Using that what was left of his powers to get a glimpse of their insides, seek the flaws in their designs until he found the information needed. It satisfied his curiosity and he also stored the findings inside his mind for future purposes. Of course not all of them had those little inconsistencies he so desperately searched for, but some of them did. If they were aware of this fact themselves was not very likely. The people on the list who did know, had only become aware of their special abilities fairly recent and Gabriel was quite sure that the man referred to as Horn-Rimmed Glasses was not eager to share his knowledge with the people it concerned. Too much information could make them leap out of his direct control after all.

Not that any of that mattered anymore. Now he was powerless, listless. His body drained of its strength he lacked the energy to dig deep inside their brains. Examinating their inner workings no longer gave him that fragment of hope that could keep him going. What good was it after all? He couldn't escape this prison, not after last time. Security had tightened, his powers significantly weakened. All effort was pointless, a meaningless respite of the inevitable. The end was lingering around the corner, he knew it. The final pang of hope had left his body with the last unidentified fluid he was injected with. The small red dot on the inside of his right arm being the only lasting proof for that.

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick...

A sudden sound interrupted the forced silence. Gabriel's first thought - if the sensation penetrating his mind could be defined as a thought at all - was that he was listening to the soothing sound of time passing by. The mechanic noise of the clocks he compulsively took apart to fix them again moments later, were now ringing in his final moments. But then the sound suddenly faded away to make place for that of a soft tapping noise. Nearly inaudible, but in the eerie, quiet room present anyhow. The sound swiftly moved over Gabriel's bed until it finally came into view.

His eyes remained unaffected, lacking the strength to move or even just focus on the blurry image of the tiny creature so carelessly walking from right to left and back again.

Gabriel's mind only slowly processed the oddness of having this inferior animal inside his cell. He was no longer alone, which was peculiar on itself. The room was supposed to be completely isolated. A measure taken to keep the outside world away from him and to keep him away from that same outside world. He was a danger to it after all, or so he had been repeatedly told by a fumed glassed man, during those moments right after the second capturing. The man repeatedly spat out his anger by scorning Gabriel. The death of one of his employees influencing his emotions up till the point he could no longer control them, it made Gabriel briefly wonder if they had been engaged in more than a simple working relationship.

After the incident that same man had made absolutely sure the small space was completely sealed off so there was no way for Gabriel to come in contact with anyone outside of the 'doctors' occasionally walking in and out. And the systematically appliance of drugs had decreased the chance of reprise to near zero. It painfully but consistently broke Gabriel's body and powers down until his mind was no longer able to fix him.

Slow but steady the black trembling smudge on his vision became a solid picture of a cockroach, its hard shield reflecting the halogen lights into Gabriel's eyes. When finally the understanding of this sudden appearance entered his mind he smiled. It was not a psychical smile plastered over his face, not even a twinge of the lips--his body was still numb, his face locked in a glare of emptiness. But on the inside a small glee of hope burned, breaking down the poison that had spread through his vains. If this animal had managed to force itself into the confined space it meant the room wasn't fully isolated after all. Gabriel did not need a door sized hole to slip through. To escape all he really needed was a tiny connection to the outside world, just enough to drain the necessary energy and build up his strength again.

When the cockroach seemed to have enough of the pointless walking back and forth it made its way down the bed, vanishing out of Gabriel's direct sight as quickly as it had come.

His eyes shifted almost unnoticeably, for the first time in days. The drowsiness that had laid as a suffocating blanket over his willpower was quickly disappearing, making place for a malicious cold stare.

And then Sylar blinked.