I'm an Angel with No Wings

Heroes Staff and Actors on Twitter!!!

Sat, 28 Feb 2009 07:21:30 GMT

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

RP: Lost Sons

Thu, 12 Feb 2009 10:16:06 GMT

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.

They had been traveling south on the I-95 for about a hour, mostly in silence in the dark of early evening. They had passed exits for East Brunswick a few minutes ago and the station wagon was still quiet, nothing but the sound of vehicles passing in the opposite direction on the other side of the divide. Sylar hadn't bothered to take his eyes off the road in some time now, except to check the mirrors, leaving his young companion in ambiguous solitude even though they were sitting side by side.

Truth be told he was intensely curious about the boy, but he was also exceedingly patient. He'd learned better about rash judgements and actions recently, charging ahead too quickly on assumptions of people's character. It was easier, now that no one could possibly deceive him, verbally anyway, but he was circumspect nonetheless. Not to mention he was savoring this. Like his trip with a certain foreign geneticist, he was letting Luke Campbell reveal himself naturally. He'd make a more honest observation of him like that. (Nevermind the small powertrip of making him wait with baited breath. And Gabriel could use such an ego boost after being used the way he was.)

Silence was something he was used to so he wasn't exactly eager to break it himself. It was going to be a long drive, sure but hey if this guy, this Gabriel wanted to know something about him he could just ask. He didn't need to know that Luke was bursting with questions about where he came from, how long he's known, what all he can do since--for one thing that coffee didn't leave a mark on him. Shifting under his seat belt he looks at the dashboard clock. Hm. Wonder how long before sirens show up in the rearview mirror. His mom must have called the cops...doesn't she get it that he doesn't need her? Especially not now. She couldn't answer the types of questions he has about what's happening to him and why. He leans forward and turns on the radio, an idle gesture if anything. People aren't supposed to be so comfortable in a silent car right? There should be something droning on in the background. He leans his head against the seatbelt, staring out of the window as he replays the scene at his former home in his mind again and again. That military guy didn't stand a change against what he can do. It felt good even when he watched his flesh had turned into--a boiled mass of soupy remains-- seep out from his fallen body. He did something, he acted, he wasn't a victim like the so-called bullies at school tried to make him. So what if he started the fight that landed him in that joke of a 'detention facility'?

NPR. Probably the mother's choice, but Gabriel approved. News without the sensationalism. They'd hear about politics, art, and certain catastrophes, but probably not Luke's 'abduction', and everything with a subdued dignity about it. Even some music, which was generally relaxing in nature. Which was good. He was about ready to flatten his foot to the floor to get to the address Simmons had divulged before he died. After a bit though, the older man's brandy eyes drifted to the mirror and this time caught they boy's reflection in it. "Which do you think she'll miss first?"

"The car. She'll file the report for that and then for me if she remembers. She hates public transportation." He knows that and it was probably a factor in why he did it. "It's why we even ended up with this piece of shit." His eyes flit over to catch Gabriel's looking over at him. "She's going to be pissed that you got all that blood on her clean, new carpet, she just had that put in like a month ago. I wandered through the living room with a soda in my hand once and you would have thought that I'd tried to burn the house down with how she yelled at me to stay out of the living room with that."

"Ah, I only made a little mess, now you... She'll have to go all the way down to the floorboards to get that out," he chuckled softly, liking Luke's answer. He didn't even have to plant the seeds of discord and resentment in this boy's mind. Get him out of earshot of Mom and it all just came pouring out. A sympathetic ear probably helped, and wasn't that just rare? That Sylar would ever be a sympathetic ear. He wondered how well the kid would hold up. Granted, Gabriel hadn't fixed up that noose until it all got out of hand and it wasn't just strangers dieing any more... But Luke was so much younger. Vestiges of an artificial conscience might still be eating at him.

Turns to him again, the softest chuckle coming out of his lips as well. Yeah...she will. He turns to look over at the man in the driver's seat a little more . "Who was that guy anyway? You made it sound like he was after you first." He'd like an idea of who he so instinctually erased from the world. It's not guilt he's feeling right now, it's curiosity. Gabriel seems like he's really a part of 'something big' and that's exciting for Luke. That pacemaker line for one, was not a joke or a lie. Something he learned when his mother forced him to visit his asshole grandfather in a nursing home. It was the day he first thought maybe something was 'off' about him. But his attitude has since changed, he really likes whatever this thing is he can do.

"To be perfectly honest with you? I don't completely know. He was the last one left of the men who tried to abduct me from the house down the street from yours, Samson Gray's," he didn't figure they were Primatech men. Not the Company's style. Perhaps the soldiers of Pinehearst, but Aurthur was dead and on his way through Jersey Sylar had seen the building had burnt to the ground. "I think they're military, and they're after people like us, people who can do things, special." And they had Samson Gray. That was all Gabriel really needed to know. He was confident he could handle anything thrown at him. As valiant as Luke's 'rescue' was, Sylar had stopped bullets headed his way before, and he'd be going in knowing the guards would be both specially trained and armed. They still wouldn't be ready for something like him.

"Ah yeah, old man Gray...The cautionary tale down the street. My mom would always use him as some sort of bad example for me. I talked to the guy once or twice. Kinda weird, but he's harmless. Do you know him or something?" He hadn't ever seen anyone hanging around Gray's place so it was weird that this guy came out of nowhere and cared so much about him. And military...that was not what he expected would happen when he found out what he could do. "Are there alot of people like us? I guess there has to be if there's military involvement."

Hail to the Chef!!! (I am a sick, sick puppy)

Fri, 30 Jan 2009 10:17:02 GMT

Hail to the Chef!

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

For humanmapquest: Don't fret, Precious...

Sun, 14 Dec 2008 06:49:39 GMT

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.

Six word story

Sat, 13 Dec 2008 12:35:38 GMT

Springer would have maternity results yesterday...

Stolen from Humanmapquest

Sat, 13 Dec 2008 11:07:14 GMT

Which creature of the night are you? Your Result: Vampire You are a social pragmatist, as likely to kiss as to bite. Your sensuality and social pragmatism is the counter-balance to your existential angst and your tendency toward depression.
Sorceror
Incubus/Succubus
Demon
Werewolf
Cthulu Spawn
Ghost
Which creature of the night are you? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

For ellectric_girl

Sat, 13 Dec 2008 10:15:12 GMT

Thought it kind of resembled the real thing...

I need a beta/task master

Tue, 09 Dec 2008 11:07:38 GMT

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.

Six-word Story:

Tue, 09 Dec 2008 07:02:57 GMT

Are you on my new list?

LITTLE NOAH LIIIIIIIIIIIIVES!!!! ...ish.

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 06:48:03 GMT

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

Wed, 03 Dec 2008 11:55:23 GMT

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!!!

Blood Ties

Mon, 24 Nov 2008 04:54:57 GMT

The cafe was packed. Bohemians of every medium crowded around tables, painters, poets, musicians and poseurs, discussing, debating, flirting with the cafe girls, drinking away what little prosperity they could scrape together. Mixed among them also were afficianados like Gabriel Gray. No artist himself, not of a kind they wouldn't have laughed at here, he had come into enough money that he was considered part of the artistic elite. Middle class and anemic, but he would lay down a bottle and let his young visionaries drink it all up without complaint. They liked him well enough for that.

Tonight he sat beneath the low lamps, pale as moonstone through the smoke with ice water in front of him and a pack of poets tripping on absinthe half falling around him. His features were like carved marble, smooth and barely expressive beyond the twitch of a smile, like an expression half-forgotten.

He was only half listening to their conversation. His eyes were tracking a barmaid nearly as pale as himself, though her skin lacked the luster his possessed. She looked more waxen, and very distracted. Her eyes raked the customers, and he knew what she was looking for; a stranger, a drifter, someone who wouldn't be missed. It was easy enough in Whitechapel, but the further from town, the better. Some one that NO ONE would miss, and the police wouldn't care to investigate.

She wasn't necessarily intelligent, this one, just streetwise. If she were intelligent she would know that she wasn't the only one hunting...

Badass apparel ninja like no body's business!!!

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 08:43:10 GMT

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...

NBC Heroes Countdown

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 07:00:11 GMT

Expect Casualties

If anyone needs to request plottage with me and doesn't want to grab me on AIM...

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 08:11:50 GMT

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...

Wed, 07 May 2008 09:59:38 GMT

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

The overcast day suit Gabriel's mood perfectly. The leaves of the maples were vibrant enough in shades of ocher and vermilion that sunlight would have just been superfluous. It was early enough in the month that there was still some Indian summer left, making it possible to take lunch on the patio of the courtyard, if one left their jacket on, and the gangley youth had opted to do just that. It was quieter out here than the cafeteria, and the scenery infinitely more pleasing.

Plus, though it didn't lessen his status as walking target/sitting duck for the older bullies in the school, it at least meant the audience to his humiliation was smaller. Gabriel was already sporting a number of bruises from a few scrapes he'd been in, being not well-liked by his peers. He was tall, dark, and thin, which had already earned him the moniker 'Ichabod' from the more well-read, and just 'scarecrow' from others. His glasses, heavy brow and brooding looks didn't help his case any, and his absent nature got him picked on by the instructors as well. He was often called to answer when caught staring out the windows, or doodling in the margins of his note book in class.

He'd gotten into the school based on excellent marks and his test-taking proficiency, but it was starting to become apparent that this institution might not be a very good fit for him. Not that public would do him any better. So to avoid making waves he just kept to himself. It was only four years, right? He'd already survived the last fourteen much in this way.

For the Hell of it...

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 22:53:44 GMT

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

NON-CANON WHAT-IF?

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 10:34:45 GMT

Date: April, 2006
Character(s): Mohinder Suresh, Gabriel Gray
Summary: Mohinder Suresh, persistent little bastard that he is, finally talked daddy into getting him a ticket over to New York and goes to pay a visit to one of the first potential "Evolved Humans" of their shared research. Meanwhile, Gabriel works on fixing that damned cunning watch! And gets a visitor...
Status: In progress/PRIVATE

The rain had finally let up for the evening, but Gabriel had already decided to call it a night here at the shop. He sat at his work bench with the security gate already closed on the front door, even though the shop wasn't technically supposed to close for another twenty-three minutes. It didn't matter, no one would come calling in that time, he was sure of it already. Brooklyn was still too cold this time of year and everything was wet. Everyone else would be home bundled up by now, but Gabriel still sat with his many-lensed glasses perched upon his nose as though there might still be the possibility of some customer while he worked on a pet project that had been consuming him for the last seven years.

He'd already laid out a carefully folded set of night clothes on the narrow bed tucked in the back of the work room though. There would be no one, and when he was done he would not want to brave the wet streets and the unfriendly underground to get back to his empty Queens apartment, so he might as well just stay here in the make-shift living space he'd installed in his lonely, antiquated proprietorship.

The young watchmaker almost thought he had the machine figured out... It was all beginning to click inside his mind so clearly in ways that it never had before... He'd always had a talent for fixing things, but recently it had become... uncanny. This would be his finest achievement, his masterpiece, so to speak.

Except that the buzzer from the security gate suddenly interrupted him.

Flinching a the unexpected sound, Gabriel actually dropped one of the tiny, antique cogs that he'd been fitting, cursing quietly as it disappeared beneath his desk. Despite his fastidiously groomed appearance, like something out of a fifties television special, Gabriel did know how to express his frustration colourfully... But the shop had not been doing particularly well, lately, and Virginia was no longer capable of taking care of herself...

So Gabriel left the cog and rose to answer the shop door, pulling the glasses from his face and opening the inner glass door to look out through the formidable wrought-iron gate. "Hello, can I help-..." He trailed off abruptly as his own brandy gaze finally focused past the grate and on the espresso eyes that looked up at him behind it. After an awkward beat he finished softly, "...you?"

HWI:Thread Update

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 02:13:59 GMT

March, 2006

Eat Your Heart Out, David Blaine - Gabriel Gray keeps an appointment with the good doctor and Eden makes herself scarce. Brooklyn, NY

October, 2006

002 - Elle Bishop makes a friend in the basements of Primatech. Odessa, TX
Good Morning, Starshine - Eden McCain's first visit to Gabriel Sylar in his cell at Primatech. Odessa, TX
I'm So Sick, Infected With Where I Live - Elle drops in on Sylar again. Things get tense. Odessa, TX
I Wanna Fuckin' Tear You Apart - Elle pays a final visit to Sylar so he can punch her V-Card! Odessa, TX
Another Piece Moved - Eden comes to visit Sylar's cell again, and provokes his volatile temper. Odessa, TX
I'm Not Sick, But I'm Not Well - Eden visits a heavily medicated, abused and violated Sylar, and makes the hard decision to let him out. Odessa, TX
It's Cause of These Things - Sylar catches up with Eden at the hotel room she's set up for him. Odessa, TX
Something Normal. ~~Sort of.~~ - Sylar and Eden run into some old friends at breakfast in the Burnt Toast Diner. Odessa, TX
Drivin' Faster in My Car... - Gabriel and Mohinder set out for New York after Eden mysteriously disappears. Odessa, TX to somewhere in Tennessee.
I Walk Alone In the Garden of Stone - Gabriel and Mohinder get intimate back at the hotel. Later Sylar pays a visit to Zane Taylor. Virginia Beach, VA
Somehow You've Got Everybody Fooled - Gabriel and Mohinder go to meet Zane. Mohinder suffers resulting nightmares, and he and Gabriel become closer as a result.
I Would Sell My Soul for Something Pure and True - The intimate aftermath of the events of the previous thread. Virginia Beach, VA
Take Me With You... - Mohinder and Gabriel finally make it to New York and receive a visit from Sylar's new friend. Brooklyn, NY
On the Road Again - Long hours of travel and stressful events take their toll on Mohinder and Gabriel's relationship. The pair also meet up with Dale Smither. Brooklyn, NY to Bozeman, MT

OOC: If anyone else is into one-on-one journal RP...

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 08:34:42 GMT

I'm totally game for individual threads. :)

For the most part I RP within the Heroes-verse, as it's my main fandom at the moment. Usually I play male characters, especially Sylar, though I've also enjoyed playing as Mohinder, Isaac Mendez, and even Peter, though that's rare.

I tend to slash in the m/m direction and Sylar/Mohinder is my favorite pairing, but I'm pretty flexible and will slash Sylar especially with just about anybody. High on the list are Peter Petrelli, either of the Herrera Twins (or both!), Niki/Jessica, and if anyone's feeling adventurous, Noah Bennet. >; )

If you have a particular request, just let me know though, and we might be able to work something out - I'm a role playing junkie.

Character Application for "The Coming Darkness" Heroes RPG

Sun, 09 Dec 2007 15:29:06 GMT

(For the record...)

Name: Loren
E-mail: loren.morgenstern@gmail.com
Character: Gabriel/Sylar
Sample:

Gabriel lay, long frame slightly cramped, feigning sleep in the back seat of the purple Nissan. He was listening to the Herrera siblings, conversing freely in what they believed was the security of his slumber and their native tongue. He was slightly offended at their assumption, even if it did work in his favor.

He could have at least recognized his own name in their argumentative muttering, but three years of foreign language in preparation for the university he never went to gave him even greater advantage than that. If he'd only had access to that perfect memory that now seemed so dampened and blurred he would have known even the smallest nuances, but he still knew enough to realize Alejandro would never be taken in by Gabriel's eager helpfulness. It wasn't that he had any concrete reason to mistrust Gabriel; Alejandro Herrera was simply an overprotective brother with a pretty, naive sister in need of saving from the world.

He also understood enough to know that Maya was smitten, so when he finally stretched and rose he made certain to pick an insignificant moment to catch her eye in the rear view mirror and smile warmly. Leaning forward between the front seats he eyed the clock and turned to Maya as though Alejandro wasn't even there. "Your brother has been driving for hours," his pitch was slightly high and his tone sympathetic. "How about a Chinese fire-drill, and I'll take over for a while?" he smiled wider, anticipating her eager agreement.

Character Application for Heroes: What If?

Sun, 09 Dec 2007 15:22:46 GMT

(For the record...)

Character Application: Sylar

Contact-

Time Zone: Pacific
AIM: lorenmorgenstern
YIM: cancerrat0
MSN: loren.morgenstern@gmail.com
E-MAIL: loren.morgenstern@gmail.com

Characterization-
Character Name: Sylar, aka Gabriel Gray

Character Age: 30

Relevance to Storyline: The wild card, the force of chaos and darkness that must exist in uneasy juxtapose to order and light. The "villain" if you would have it that way. Mohinder's demon; shadow-self to many characters, including Mohinder, Nathan, and of course, Peter; temptation to others, like Eden McCain and Noah Bennet.

Character Ability: Intuitive Aptitude

Character's Known Acquired Abilities: telekinesis, cryokinesis, and eidetic memory.

Character History: Gabriel Gray, born to an Italian Catholic mother, and an Irish-English Catholic father, grew up stifled and pressured in a cramped, quietly hostile home in Queens, New York. His mother always wanted him to make something of himself. His father wanted him apprenticed in the family trade. Gabriel, for his part, lacked his own clear ambition.

Gangly as a child, he was quiet, imaginative, and aloof. He was also some what morbid, but he learned to keep his stranger ideas to himself to avoid harassment from his schoolmates and father, and the fussing worry of his mother. He became an adept actor early in life, smiling when he felt no joy, looking pensive when he felt no remorse. Still, he remained an outsider with few friends. Different, but unremarkable, and when not bullied largely ignored.

In his teen years pressure from family increased. Intimidated by his father's insults and insinuations of inevitable failure in any other course, Gabriel folded and trained to take over the family business. He spent the next decade of his life fixing time pieces, wasting all the potential he might have had.

Until Chandra came. Taking the name Sylar was less the assumption of a new identity, in retrospect, than the realization of his true one. The persona he'd created as Gabriel Gray had been a mask of humanity to skate by unseen, but now he felt unfettered, and acted accordingly. He sometimes felt as though he'd gotten out of his own hands, but it was a heady feeling that quickly grew addicting. His brazenness got him into a spot of trouble, though, and he found himself captured by Bennet and Primatech...

I would like to explore the ‘what if’ of Sylar’s escape being aided and abetted by Eden as well, his storyline changing and evolving from there.

Sample/Background Post:

Bennet had doused the lights and left him to languish in darkness. The man obviously believed he was punishing Sylar by denying him the harsh glare of the industrial floodlights that illuminated is humble cell. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Sylar basked in the anonymity of the shadows.

It was not that he was self-conscious, or shy. No, he’d left behind such pitiful limitations months ago, but the dark wiped away the physical trappings of identity until there was only Will and Intention and Sylar felt like a pure being.

Under the light Bennet had seen his face and called him Gabriel, because he still bore so much resemblance to his old identity, physically. That was only a part of who he was now, the dark material that had been tempered and forged to a lethal blade. The Company man was so ignorant, Sylar almost pitied him. He reminded Sylar of nothing better than a territorial dog, full of empty noise and posturing.

In general, Sylar liked animals. They were simple, affectionate, and obedient if properly handled and the wild ones stayed out of the way. There was only one solution for mongrels that made a nuisance of themselves though, and even in his youth he’d had no qualms dispatching with them.

For now Sylar took advantage of the womb-like dark and silence, the blessed solitude. He was annoyed that the situation hadn’t been his choosing, but he only had to wait for his moment to come. They couldn’t keep him here indefinitely. He meditated on the power singing through his veins, snapping like electricity along his nerves and synapses, ignoring the physical discomfort from his healing injuries, tasting the slow simmer of outrage at the knowledge that some of that damage was inflicted after.

They thought he was the animal, too dim to see that he was so much more.

Three hours and forty-two minutes since Bennet had plunged him into blackness before his little grey world was once again flooded with light. He turned his head in his own time to look at the nymph of a girl standing on the other side of the shatter-proof glass. He blinked slowly, unspoken understanding passing between their eyes. She sees me. He realized this with a thrill of satisfaction. When she looks at me, she sees.

“I know you,” his voice was a little rough, a scarred-velvet purr. Insinuating. Intimate. Without breaking eye contact Sylar dismounted the pallet and approached the window.