http://leto-reficio.livejournal.com/ (
leto-reficio.livejournal.com) wrote in
shatterverse2008-04-10 06:36 pm
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Sylar inna field.
Sent to sleep with superpowers.
Not yet eaten by Triffids.
Botherable.
Sent to sleep with superpowers.
Not yet eaten by Triffids.
Botherable.
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Not expecting duplicate.
Expecting unconscious duplicate less.
Descending rapidly.
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Damn.
*nudge*
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Sylar, for the record, landed face-down and none-too-comfortably. He shifts a little.
""
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The mornings that are afternoons, and on the ground in parks strewn with dead triffids.
Okay then.
Crouching beside the younger him, Sylar gives his duplicate's shoulder a gentle shake.
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...at least he's not scattered across the landscape?
He rolls over uncomfortably, all ready to (once he gets his equilibrium back, ow ow ow) leap up and rip the top off Darla's--
--that's... not Darla.
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Sylar-Here smiles wryly, offering Sylar-There a hand up.
"Yes. We're alternates. You'll get used to it."
And all that sci-fi they read as a kid will finally come in handy!
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...
"Is this to do with the flash and the teleporting?" he demands. And accepts the hand up, because lying in the dirt is less than fun.
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And now that they're both standing, "What happened here?"
You know. With the rampant destruction and the napping amid the slowly decaying vegetable matter.
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Here is the less embarrassing part:
"There were... triffids."
He dares you to laugh at him. At least it sounds marginally better than 'trained attack flowers'.
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Sylar-Here nods, and waits.
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...Sylar wonders if it's possible to outstare yourself.
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With a stick.
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"Grrrflngh," Sylar tells the ground.
Give him a moment. His brain just got biokinetically bitchslapped.
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Many philosophers have speculated that if we knew precisely why Sylar thought this, we should know a great deal more about the workings of the universe than we do now.It's thought rather angrily.
The stick snaps, very abruptly, because Sylars do not enjoy being poked with them. Then Sylar looks up and sees the Bunny.
"...you've got to be joking."
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How does the Bunny feel about being yanked up to his eye-level via a none-too-gentle invisible hand at the scruff of his neck? It should be fairly clear what's causing it, seeing as Sylar's own hand rises slightly with the movement, and also that his expression screams bloody murder. Apparently he's not a morning person.
"How about yours?"
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He had assumed that unexpected teleportation, attacking flowers and meeting an older version of himself would be the weirdest things to happen to him today, but apparently the universe is conspiring to prove him wrong.
"Did you say 'world'?"
...because that would actually make far more sense than he's quite comfortable with.
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"What exactly," he demands, "has happened here?"
You know. With the brokenness and the monsters and the being flashbanged in and all.
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