Character(s): Gabriel "Sylar" Gray and Claire Bennet
Summary: Building 26 is never shut down. No one convinces the president that it's best to just drop the matter of evolved humans, and Danko is given cart blanche to deal with the super-powered threat as he sees fit. In the next century the Evolved are hunted to the brink of extinction, either out-right exterminated, or imprisoned and exploited for their ability. The number of specials used in this way grows fewer and fewer as time and mishaps progress, but one type is still coveted above all. Exterminating a regenerator is exceedingly difficult, anyway...
Status: In progress/PRIVATE

( ...all my foolish, fuckin' wishing... )

Follow these guys for the inside scoop!

http://@JamesProps Prop Master on Set

http://@wendilynnmakeup Key makeup artist, personally in charge of all your favs!

http://@TheMightyFoz VFX and various on the production

http://@oxfordstandard Writer and producton.

http://@globalcouch Writer Jesse Alexander

http://@BryanFuller Writer Bryan Fuller

http://@dhlawrencexvii David H. Lawrence XVII, amazing man and actor for Eric Doyle, Heroes' own puppet master.

http://@greggrunberg The one and only Grunny! Matt Parkman

http://@breagrant Our favorite speedster, Daphne!

http://@jameskysonlee From sidekick to super hero, Ando!

http://@wendyandlisa Music duo-dynamo Wendy and Lisa, who score Heroes! Also their own music projects, and they used to work with this guy... used to dress up in flashy stuff and changed his name to a symbol, I dunno. ;)

Check them out on http://www.twitter.com/

Other good people to follow:

http://@Sylars_Army Raise money for good causes in the name of a vile villain!

http://@dividepictures Russ, Dino, Milo V. and Lucie

Summary: Simmons wasn't lying when he said the Government had aprehended Samson Gray. Sylar gets a bare minimum of information out of him before the man goes for his gun and is microwaved into a puddle by Luke. Sensing a common spirit in the boy, Sylar baits Luke into following him with the bonus of stealing Mom's woodpanel station wagon. So begins the roadtrip toward Washington, D.C., and the answers both so desperately seek.

( A Butterfly Flaps Its Wings... )

Hail to the Chef!

Oh, yeah... I bought it. :3

It was so very easy, once they were actually out of the FBI building. 

Once they reached open streets, the black-clad man was no longer bound by the restraints of narrow corridors and seeming dead-ends.  Once they were up and out he could sail across busy streets from roof to roof, no chance of agents catching them on foot, no hope they'd be quick enough getting a bird in the air.

He ran like the wind, only a mortal's speed on the ground, but as though he wore Hermes' winged sandals when he leapt across open spaces.  He held his precious prize tightly to himself, not daring to drop her even if she kicked and fought.  He had a grip like iron to such a little girl though, even if enhanced strength wasn't an ability he had yet. ...but perhaps soon.  Perhaps very soon, with this newest acquisition.

It only took a few moments, but soon they were far away from Agents Hanson and Thayer, and the persistent officer who'd audaciously shot at him.  Far away and no hope of being tracked.  Those poor federal fools had no conception under God what they were actually looking for, nor how close in their own backyard their villain stayed.

He didn't stop until they reached an anonymous residential hotel somewhere within the heart of the most questionable parts of Los Angeles, but they didn't bother with the homeless and addict infested streets below.  He took them along higher, un-walked paths to the fire escape just outside the top-most window, which slid open as though automatically when approached.

The man in the ball cap shoved the girl through the window roughly, counting on heights to keep her terrified enough not to claw too viciously.  All together their rapid flight was far from normal or seeming safe, especially considering the person who conveyed the girl across the city's rooftops.  He followed after her immediately, ducking low through the sil but looming tall and deadly as soon as they were both inside.

Remind me to write a fic where psychometry + traumatic death of Elle fucks Sylar over a mental big one. I've got a nasty fun idea. I just have to be poked. And probably prodded. Flogging might not be out of the question.

Are you on my new list?

I can pretend anyway. :3

If you haven't seen this commercial yet, you need to watch. Baby Sybrows is the CUTEST. <3 Here's to a prosperous career for Thomas Robinson (I). :D

When a dancer intends to perform a complicated turn, especially if multiple rotations are involved, he or she chooses a point of reference to "spot" and keeps his or her eyes on this point as long as possible, whipping back to it at the start of each turn, to maintain equilibrium during and when exiting the manuver. If he or she does not spot, embarrassing, even damaging vertigo can occur, the manuver losing direction and the subsequent steps becoming a tangled blunder in the completely wrong direction.

...THE HEROES WRITERS NEED TO FUCKING SPOT!!!

When I say I stalk his wardrobe instead of the man, I mean it.

The Story:

So I never would have known where to find this thing if I hadn't seen the Golden Gopher bar before I even knew what a Zachary Quinto is. Going to school at USC (which is in a shit part of town, thus putting me in the possition of moving through other shit parts of town) I rode buses through questionable neighborhoods and drove through strange areas to get where I wanted to go, so I'd been by the place before.

It took seeing the hat pop up a few times before I figured out what the heck the logo on it actually was, but the lay out was so familiar, I knew I'd seen it. That's when it clicked, and I motored myself down to the place one early Friday to see if they had any left.

No such luck. Sold out. But the newer bartenders told me to come back after ten when Diego would be around, because he'd been there longer than any of them and would know about the hats. Diego turned out to be a really great, helpful guy, and I impressed him by asking for a glass of Pernod, which I drink regularly, but NO ONE ELSE does. I was floored they even had it!

Diego totally hooked me up. He put in an order for the hats, and let me know the instant they came in. He also asked me to bring the picture I'd used for reference (which previously I'd only shown from the hat up. I was stalking the hat here, not the guy wearing it. XD ) Turns out the hats were Diego's idea, but the owner wasn't so hot on them, and having a picture of Zachary Quinto of "Heroes" fame (infamy?) would be great to show his boss.

I ended up sending Diego an e-mail of Mr. Quinto wearing the hat in like, seven different places, so he could see how much Mr. Q appreciates his creation. XD

Interesting thing: Diego says he's never seen the actor in the bar, which makes me wonder, considering the hats had a single, limited run (previous to my order), how the heck did Quinto come by the thing???

Mysterious...

Even though I'm ALWAYS on it, now that I've got the BlackBerry, and TOTALLY available, and a crazy nice person too. ^_^

If you wanna drop me a line here about potential threads, feel free. :) I'm on LJ all the time, too. My browser pretty much never surfs away from it, unless it goes to gmail, in which case I'm notified, anyway...

Date: October 1995
Character(s): Peter Petrelli and Gabriel Gray
Summary:  The paths of the Empath and the Intuitive cross long before homecoming night in Texas.  Instead they meet up... as high school freshmen.
Status: In-Progress, Private

Not just "seven minutes to" I AM THE NUCLEAR APOCALYPSE!!! Except not really.