shatterverse | (no subject)

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It's a regular caravan that shows up at Metropolis today.

Vehicle One: The Coraline, a modifies pick-up truck being driven by everyone's favourite bloodthirsty pirate, with a distinctly anti-killing ex-Robin in the passenger seat. The ghost of a teenage girl is technically sitting on the roof of the cabin, but sometimes she pokes her head in to interrupt the boys in their conversation.

Vehicle Two: A 1967 Chevrolet Impala, the only one blaring out tunes, while the driver and his blonde passenger sit in relative silence, not having much to say to each other.

Vehicle Three: A Porsche, containing one carefully prepared hunter and one blind woman who prides herself on not needing any preparation. The conversation in that one is a little more lively, even containing the occasional laugh from the girl.

It's a ridiculous procession, considering they don't really know where they're going. But Jack has all six of his senses peeled, looking for a young teenage girl of Chinese origin who isn't a young teenage girl of Chinese origin.

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Jack's only smiling 'cause he always smiles. He's heading towards the room he suspects Sylar to be in, one cutlass drawn.

A room which Sylar is even now exiting. Quickly. Via the wall.

There's not really time for a plan much more complicated than 'get as far away from the hordes of angry people as possible', but in avoiding Eden he has at least stopped thinking of running and hiding as beneath him. It's not really a conceit you can keep labouring under when you're faced with people able and willing to kill you.

He does spare a thought for whether Hannibal is home, though only because the man would act as a barrier for the intruders to get through.

Interesting skill.

Jack's eyes glaze over as he lets his Reading take over. Dick will come in through the window he saw the girl at, so he really needs to worry about the inside party.

"He can merge with the air!" he barks out, and points to some of the doors as they pass, assigning a name to each.

Sam, he sends towards the room likely to be the ghost's final destination. He might be the best equipped to stop him.

Jo doesn't need to be told twice, even as she swore under her breath taking up position nearby one not too far off from the end of the hall.

Catch a freak, oust him from a body, shove a ghost back in. Cause that wasn't crazy or anything. She kept her eyes open to the room even as she was listening to everyone else, too.

Dean takes the room opposite Jo - whether or not anyone else was in the way. If they were, they get an unsubtle shove.

Not that he's protective or nothin'.

"This is nuts."

Dick vaults in the window just in time to see Sparrow's back and leg vanish through the wall, and wastes no time hurling himself out and around into what he hopes will be an adjoining room she's moving into.

"Jubilee!"

But Sparrow can't do that. Hasn't anyone noticed that Sparrow's not supposed to be able to do that?

Jubilee flies ahead of Dick. Whatever this body is capable of passing through, a disembodied spirit can follow him.

Sam wastes a moment in looking toward his brother - he's not used to taking orders from strangers - but since Dean moves into position with no comment, he's off and running to his room in no time.

It's not a demon, they can't harm the physical body, and now it can apparently phase through air.

He really only has one idea of how to stop it now.

All this spreading out and so forth is going to make Sylar's job that much harder.

He ducks sideways through walls, making matchwood of the Pauli exclusion principle, and finally pauses to catch his breath and his bearings in a nondescript bedroom --

--which is already occupied.

"Dude."

Dean has a shotgun (rock salt) trained on him, as little use as that may be against an intangible opponenet.

"You should really give that body back to the chick. Seriously, that's just creepy."

Really creepy.

Sparrow is hot on her own heels, filled with that special kind of anger that makes a certain kind of sidekick especially dangerous. She pushes herself hard into her body.

"Give it back, you creep."

No one can miss the beginning of a round of smack talk.

Especially if the person in question is only across the hall.

Jo cross the small space and took up a position at one of the edges of the doorway. She had a gun, but she was praying Jack, or somebody, had come up with that better plan.

Because they were going to need it about now.

There are some things that provoke an 'oh shit' reaction in a high percentage of people, intangible or not, and one of them is a shotgun to the face. For a second before he remembers his newfound advantage, Sylar falters, eyes widening at Dean and Jo and the freezing sensation that is Sparrow.

Then he does remember it, and he smirks with all the insufferable smugness of a man who knows (or thinks) he's invulnerable.

Mockingly casual: "She should have kept a closer eye on it."

Dean's glare flattens.

"No, you should'a been less of a creep," he snaps, keeping the shotgun raised.

The problem is, if he shoots it (as far as he knows) it either means the girl who owns the body will be scarred and pissed, or the ghost-thing will discorporate and be impossible to find again.

"SAMMY! GETCHA ASS IN HERE!"

If only he had his telekinesis in this body, he'd be able to give them quite the show.

As it is, he has... fireworks. Which are a different kind of show altogether. A prettier one, and one which you'd feel vaguely ridiculous to describe as an attack.

Then again, there's a very good reason why people at displays keep a safe distance between themselves and the colourful explosions.

Dean, how do you feel about a Catherine wheel aimed at your face? :D

Well, there's certainly someone feeling something about it.

As Jo shouted, something that combined "No!" and "Move!" into one word as she shoved Dean to one side, not really thinking about the logic of the move or her reasons for doing so.

Augh Jo why would you do that! Dean stumbles, and is missed by the fireworks.

There's a lot of noise, though, as he crashes into a bedside table and knocks it and its load of ornaments to the ground, and yells with the impact.

Also: brings his revolver up to shoot at Jubilee. Only at her arm - he doesn't want to damage the kid, it's not her fault - but AUGH HE IS NEARLY BLINDED BY FIREWORKS DAMN IT.

For the record?

"Fuck."

Jo's startlingly pissed at Sylar, Dean and herself when she gets the fireworks intended for Dean to the side of her. Disorienting half of her vision and equilibrium with it.

Given her preoccupation with sane decisions in the last twenty seconds, the one where she's leveling a gun at the two-three-ish heads of the girl is probably still among them.

"Get the fuck out of her."

No fair using her power against her friends! Oh wait, that can go both ways.

So sooner have the fireworks aimed at Dean gone off, but another round starts up with violent and sudden flashes of coloured light right in the face that belongs to Jubilee. If Dean and Jo are going to be blinded, everyone is.

You know what? Sylar has missed provoking this kind of visceral, obvious reaction in people. He's missed people seeing what he can do and not just shrugging it off. He's missed this kind of power.

The smile on his stolen face is really not a good one -- a kid allowed to play at last crossed with the sneer of Ozymandius crossed with a tiger staring down a wounded deer -- but whatever oh-so-witty retort he had lined up for Jo is abandoned in favour of yelling, screwing closed his eyes and throwing up his arms to protect his face from the real Jubilee's counterattack.

Ow. Frelling ow. That's really a lot less fun from the receiving end.

"How'd you like it, asshole?" Jubilee whoops, just before
The salt bullets pass through Jubilation's upper arm as if they were made of air. and hit the ghost of Jubilee firmly in the chest.

She screams, and dissipates
The fireworks ease off suddenly.

"Dean!"

This is about when Sam fucks the half-assed plan they'd had in the first place in favor of answering his brother. He skids into the room, finds Dean and Jo on the floor, and decides to think about it later.

He lifts his arm, hand centered on Jubilee's body and fingers spread and concentrates hard.

As the lights in his face vanish, Sylar tries in vain to blink the afterimages out of his stinging eyes. Just seconds later, though, there are the noisy footsteps of Sam's arrival and a wrenching, blinding pressure, as if something is reaching in through the back of his skull and groping around to dislodge him.

It doesn't take a genius to work out what's going on.

Sylar swears, his breath rasping in his throat, and clings to Jubilee's body with every shred of will he can possibly muster. Then, temporarily entirely solid, he aims an angry, desperate punch at the place where he judges Sam to be from what shapes he can see and the sound of the man's entry.

There's a problem here, and it's the same problem Sam had pointed out time and time again with Dean - Sylar is not a demon. He knows what that feels like, how to differentiate between the demon and the true person inside the body, knows how to pull one with minor damage to the other. But Sylar doesn't feel like a demon exactly, doesn't feel like he belongs entirely either, which means Sam has to concentrate even harder, focus-

Which is interrupted a bit when he's punched in the shoulder.

His concentration wavers while he reacts, letting out a shout of pain and then lifting his arm again. He's pulling again but there were several seconds where Sylar would have been perfectly able to pull himself together a bit.

Dean, still on the floor, is ...

just staring at Sam.

THERE ARE GOING TO BE WORDS AFTER THIS, SAM, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON D: