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Sylar inna field.

Sent to sleep with superpowers.

Not yet eaten by Triffids.

Botherable.

The narration wishes it could proffer some instant solution -- a motion to break the grip, perhaps, or a handy plot device to temporarily nullify superpowers -- but it is forced to admit that Sylar is a massive twink.

Maybe the rabbit could talk him to death?

"Hmm." Damn. He hates it when things don't have clear reasons for happening. "I don't suppose there's any remnant of civilization nearby?"

Dead people in broken skyscrapers don't count.

This narration would like to point out the rabbit still has some hidden weapons, if he really wanted to do anything. Generally, he struggles so it doesn't look like he's giving in. "Depends on what yer looking for. There's a bunch of people in kansas, but they're pretty goody two shoes."

This narration, much as it's fond of its pup, never ceases to be amused on the frequent occasions when he's not as in control as he thinks he is.

Sylar tilts his head at the rabbit.

"Where?"

Yeah, he's heard of the farm. ~~About two seconds before he got pwned by Darla for a second time, and incidentally that's a really good incentive to bother other pursuits for a little while.~~ He just hasn't killed anyone with a built-in sat-nav yet. Let him work on it!

"Kansas, of all places." The rabbit shrugs, his beady red eyes gleaming. "You can't really miss it kiddo."

He had been hoping for something more along the lines of directions, but that works too. And no time like the present for swanning in a Kansas-wards direction.

"I probably don't have to say that if I put you down and you try to attack me, it won't end well for you."

The Bunny glares even more fiercely. "Oh, it is on monkey boy. You think you can stop me?"

Narrowed eyes.

"Which of us has the other dangling helpless in the air?"

"Dangling, yes. Helpless? Never." The Bunny keeps glaring.

Coldly: "I have to contest that."

Up comes the other hand, and... the rabbit might be having trouble breathing. You know. Just to make a point.

Well there's the problem.

The Rabbit doesn't breathe.

So He just keeps glaring at Sylar. "What're you gonna do with that one, jerk off?"

...What the hell?

Okay, so with hindsight there was something a bit individual about the way the rabbit's body works, but then again he's a talking rabbit. A difference sort of goes without saying. On top of which, when you're not looking for the difference, intricate enough AI can read a lot like a biological system. And he is totally not making excuses for why he didn't realise before, shut up.

Sylar opens his mouth, and then closes it again, a stare taking over from the glare. He'd probably say something awed and/or complimentary about the mechanics, but the rabbit annoys him.

"Whut?" The rabbit kicks his feet again. "Freakin' me out here kiddo."

"You were built," says Sylar wonderingly, because it stands to reason.

And that construction included voice and logic and reactions and-- oh, he is impressed.

"Yer looking at my insides?" The Rabbit moves his paws to cover the spot where his junk resides. "Damn, I feel so exposed! That's just ain't done."

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