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[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

There's a flash and a bang and a very confused man with ridiculous hair appears, hovering a few feet above the rubble of a destroyed parking lot.

Hey, when you can cast illusions, you don't need a comb.

"...The hell?" Sylar starts to say, and before he's quite done with the sentence it's President Nathan Petrelli who's making the quizzical exclamation to empty air, settling gently to the ground.

You can never be too careful.

Comments

[eureka-bell.livejournal.com]

QUIET YOU.

Stephen suffers a fair amount of distress when he realises where Sylar's gone, because if the man is able to see Metropolis (and from that far up, it should be as easy as finding it on a map) from up there, then it logically follows that a little way in the other direction he should be able to see the Cooper farm.

Though perhaps it's not so bad as all that -- it's not like the farm has a flashing neon sign reading 'GABRIEL LIVES HERE' hanging over it. (Though it does have the skyscraper-ship-fort. And Steve wouldn't put it past the mad intellect behind it to make it glow at some point.)

"Hey!" he yells, rising more swiftly, though he hardly expects to be heard at this distance.

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

And just like that, Sylar drops down beside him again.

Mildly: "You needn't shout. Yes?"

[eureka-bell.livejournal.com]

@_@, goes Steve.

This version of Gabriel is a regular grab-bag of tricks, it would seem.

"...wait for me?" he says weakly, though it's rather pointless now.

(It wasn't what he was going to say, but seeing as he doesn't know what he was going to say, that will have to do.)

"Did you see -- the city?"

[hardlydangerous.livejournal.com]

"Looks like it's this way."

He heads off.







There he goes! Gosh that man is fast. Sorry, Steve.