shatterverse | (no subject)

"I see."

Well then.

"Would you like some help finding her?"

"Yes."

Maybe two can kick her ass where one ~~failed~~ was temporarily discouraged!

...a question of dividing the spoils? What are you chatting about? This-Sylar was the first one to call dibs!

Hang on, he's realised something.

"Are you an older me?"

"It would appear so, yes."

Slow smile.

You know the one.

"How many do I get?"

Like he has to add them up. Pff.

"Seventeen," he says, with a smile that matches perfectly. "And counting."

He likes that total.

"...one we can find people with?"

Alas that now he may never meet Molly Walker. Not that it would have done him much good if he had.

He tilts his head, listens for a moment, and points.

"Enhanced hearing," he says shortly. "There are two people that way."

And one of them sounds... familiar.

Interesting. He can't wait to try that one!

"We'll have to take them by surprise," seems like a useful thing to add.

"Are they close?"

"Close enough."

It's worth mentioning that at some point in the past thirty seconds, Sylar-Here has started to hover.

"I think it might be best if we flew," he adds, offering a hand.

TOTALLY NOT SHOWING OFF. IT'S PRACTICAL. YES.

...WTF HE CAN FLY.

(No, he cannot take his older self's brain, because then his younger self would come along one day and take his.)

"...it might." Hand-acceptance, and greedy staring. (Not to mention awe. Can we mention the awe? And the homg-is-he-going-to-fly?)

Well.

They don't just fly; they fly fast.

And Sylar-Here is grinning.

Idly, over the sound of wind: "I know where you can find the man I took this from."

...Darla temporarily shutting his brain down aside, Sylar gets the feeling that this could be a very good day.

"Where?"

"There's a farm in Kansas. We're not welcome there, but if you try I think you could pass for one of our younger alternates. They have two."

And that's about when they land.

In the blasted field in which they find themselves, all attention is drawn to the titanic monument shoved into the ground. It looks almost like a gravestone, but a hundred times too large-- and the name on it seems for all the world to have been clawed onto its surface.

Oh, and there are two people resting at the foot of it.

Chandra, for one, is finding this place by degrees overawing and rather frightening.

...and with the arrival of the Sylars, the dial just swung right round to the second notch. He makes a strangled noise and grabs Darla's shoulder.

...what.

The.

Fucking.

Hell.

O_O

Sylar opens his mouth to admit the words 'didn't I kill you?', and is instead silent for a moment of sheer and total shock.

Sylar, your gaping is returned.

But Darla is quicker on the draw today.

The Sylars' feet barely have time to touch the ground before Darla is up and crushing air in nervous fists, sending them both into a deep sleep with a careful, practiced application of biokinesis.

Whereupon she takes hold of Chandra's arm and runs like blazes.

Oh, shi--

That's the second time in less than an eight-hour period that this Sylar has felt the train line of his own mechanism get switched.

Perhaps fortunately, it's only annoying for about half a second.

...

See, the good thing about being a regenerative is that when things like this happen, you recover quickly.

And the good thing about being Sylar is that you have the sense to get the hell out before they happen again.

There's nobody around to see him leave, except the peacefully slumbering Sylar-There, and... a cursory attempt reveals that no, waking him is not possible. On the one hand, he could probably carry the younger Sylar back to Metropolis. On the other hand, he's still sufficiently thrown by Darla's biokinetic assault that chances are good he'll drop the poor man along the way.

Well, Sylar-There is a Sylar, isn't he? He can probably take care of himself.

Time to go, then.

(Whoosh.)