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16 August 2007 @ 02:02 am
He can't believe that a woman as pretty as Kitty would ever go out with someone like him. He's not as sophisticated as Ando. Pretty girls usually scare him because he feels so clumsy around them.

And she's famous! Of course, he knows better than to let anyone know that she's an X-Man. That could cost her her freedom at the very least. He didn't want to think what could be worse.

"Do you like Starbucks?"
 
 
I'm feeling : nervous
 
 
23 June 2007 @ 11:49 pm
Only open to Sylar

He had seen it all, in his mind's eye. A drug induced high which had brought on the most powerful and painful vision of his life. Last time he'd almost killed himself with the drugs he'd woken up atop a mural depicting the explosion of New York spread right across the floor. Now, now he was going to see how it all happened. 

He couldn't control his ability like this. His hand would paint whatever his mind saw. And now he seemed to be forever stuck on repeat painting his own death. It was as if killing Simone had cemented his own fate. Perhaps he deserved this for destroying everything he cared about. He could not save Simone. But there was at least one thing he cared about which he could save - New York. His beloved city. But to do this he'd have to sacrifice himself.

At least that's what he initially thought. He saw everything happen - saw Sylar kill him, saw Sylar take his powers and begin to paint his own death. He was doomed to the same fate Isaac had been. One piece after another depicting how Peter Petrelli would hunt him down, and the comic - well Isaac spelt that one out plain and simple. Hiro was to run him through with a sword. And the only way he could ensure Hiro would ever see this was to put the image in the pages of a comic book which he would hopefully read in time. And give it to Nick - the most untrustworthy of all people who was forever leaking out plotlines to the public.

Isaac slipped the hand-drawn comic into an envelope and closed the flap. He studied it in his hands, every little line of ink that stained the outside of the golden paper. This was his final moment. That one that would lead to his death. In a rewind of a future!flash moment he had seen it all happen after this. The door to his studio loft opened and he glanced up at the young man who entered the building.

"You'd do anything for a preview, wouldn't you?" Isaac said with a knowing smile.
 
 
20 June 2007 @ 07:56 pm
The screaming floating across the water was starting to die down, slowly, and a voice above and behind him was remarking on it; but Jack Phillips found he didn't care much. He was finding it hard to care about much of anything, really. He'd lost the feeling in his feet ages ago, and his breath was freezing on his face, and his hands felt like blocks of stone where they were--somehow--still clinging to the side of the overturned collapsible, but none of that seemed to matter. The one thing that did matter, what his mind kept repeating in a silent monotone, was the fact that help was on its way. He knew that. He was certain of it. He'd told them to come. He could only hope there were still people alive to benefit from it when it arrived.

He certainly wasn't.

He'd done his duty, he'd remained at his post, and now he was going to die because of it. The notion didn't frighten him as much as he thought it would have. Perhaps it was because he was so cold.

He hoped his parents would be proud of him.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, and—

--his back hit something, hard, and there was a blinding light in his eyes and a roaring like the thundering of a thousand trains--

--he was surrounded by grass--grass?--and the wind was howling in his ears--

--something smelled like burning--

--was this what it was like to die?--

--with a final jolt, he was face-down with water running up his nose. His teeth were chattering, he was soaking wet, sound and smell and touch were assaulting him from all sides, and he was not in the middle of the North Atlantic anymore.
 
 
04 June 2007 @ 03:38 pm
Characters: Nathan Petrelli and OPEN to anyone who wants to play.
RP Location: Around NYC
Rating: G

Coffee... need coffee.Collapse )
 
 
Current Location: NYC
I'm feeling : drained
 
 
29 May 2007 @ 04:25 pm
Who: Sasha, Peter, and Claire (with Tex)
Where: Sasha's townhouse
When: During the week Claire spent with them

"I'm totally jealous of Peter right now." Sasha commented, shifting her back against the couch. She was dressed down in a white tank top and a pair of gray sweatpants, trying to get comfortable after a long day of running around. They had gone shopping, simply because she'd seen what Angela Petrelli had given to Claire and she didn't want her to be stuck walking around town like a forty year old wannabe fashionista. Then, after they had finished picking out some age appropriate clothing that Claire seemed to be more comfortable with, they decided to spend the rest of the day dragging Peter around the city.

Playing tourist had been fun, but also exhausting. Sasha's feet were killing her, but none of them were anywhere near being tired enough to go to sleep, so they had ordered a pizza and picked out a movie. Peter was in the kitchen working on the popcorn and drinks, and Sasha had chosen Cool Hand Luke for the night.

"If he wants something, he has that telekinesis thing, so technically he doesn't even have to move to get it." She knew how lazy that sounded, but after everything they had done today, she figured she'd earned the right to sound a little lazy. "If I were him, I'd practice the hell out of that power and then use it all the time when no one was looking. Learn how to clean the house with my mind, and then only do things the old fashioned way when I was feeling nostalgic." She grinned. "Kinda like Samantha Stevens without the nose wiggle."
 
 
I'm feeling : tired
 
 
 
25 May 2007 @ 09:55 pm
New York City. Vworp. Early 21st century. Vworp. Tall buildings, streets flooded with cars, sidewalks bustling with people, parks, stores, musicals, and a blue box. Vworp.

It seemed counter-intuitive that an old British police box could appear anywhere in the city of New York and not be noticed, but that was exactly what happened. Not in front of everyone, of course--people couldn't just ignore something appearing out of nowhere with that much noise. But the TARDIS appeared, nevertheless.

The Doctor also went unnoticed, most of the time, especially on Earth. He came striding out of an alley (where the TARDIS decided was a good place to land) with a look of concentration on his face.

It was downright irritating sometimes, when the TARDIS and her knack for finding odd quirks in the timestream made him end up wherever and whenever, especially when that was not where and when he was going. All he had been doing was nipping out to the TARDIS to get away from the smothering domestics of the Tyler residence, the Powell Estate, London, by his watch a few months prior to the current date. He'd just gone to check something, just one thing, just have one minute without Jackie and Jack meeting and hitting constantly on each other, without Mickey coming around and making things slightly awkward with Rose, when the TARDIS decided that something was wrong that he desperately needed to fix.

He could've gone back. He would. Later.

It hadn't been too long by his watch since he'd last come here to meet Peter Petrelli on an abandoned rooftop for no real reason other than to just talk. They'd spent around three days, three normal Earth days, living in the city like halfway normal people. A mini-vacation, the Doctor figured. He deserved at least some respite.

But now there was something wrong. He didn't know what--had no way of knowing at the moment. So obviously his best option was to seek out anything out of the ordinary. Too bad 'out of the ordinary' things were all too common in New York. Perhaps he should find Peter.
 
 
24 May 2007 @ 02:42 am
Peter's eyes were desperate. Sacrifice your heart. Hiro could feel his own face drop in total despair. He couldn't kill this man! Not a good man! Sylar deserved to die and he was more than glad to have ended the villain's life. As his heart thumped its denial of Peter's plea, he felt something lift him and throw him away.

He picked up speed, watching Peter become smaller even as he glowed brighter and brighter. Instinct took over and the world twisted.

Daylight speared his eyes as he flew through the air, landing with a splash into salt water. Sputtering, choking, he flailed to the surface. Fortunately, it wasn't too deep, so a few strong strokes drew him towards the beach. As he climbed to his feet, pulling seaweed off of him, a couple of girls tittered, looking him up and down. Japanese girls.

I'm home! He ran towards the stalls, trying to get away from the crowds. Once he managed to duck out of sight, he concentrated on the office. Hopefully, it was still the workweek, hopefully the same day. His own cubicle greeted him when he opened his eyes. He was getting much better at this. He headed off to Ando's cube.

Ando stared at his computer screen raptly, until he sensed movement at the entrance. "Kabuto-san, I...Hiro!" He surged to his feet, enveloping his friend. "You're back! I heard..."

"What did you hear? Is New York gone?"

"No, no. There was an explosion, but it was high in the air over New York."

Peter! "Oh no! He exploded! He must have flown away to save the people on the ground!"

"What happened?"

Hiro folded into Ando's chair, his heart sinking. "Peter Petrelli. He was the exploding man. He...asked me to kill him after I killed Sylar. With his last breath, Sylar threw me away. I would have died if I had hit the building, so I teleported away. I only meant to go a little distance away, but I ended up here."

Ando took in the wet suit. "Hiro, what are you going to do?"

"I must return, Ando. Otosan is still there."

Ando grabbed his sleeve. "Not like that. You should take a shower first."
--- ****** ---

When Ando is right, Ando is very right, Hiro mused as he toweled his hair dry. It had kept his mind off, for a moment, of the events in New York. Poor Peter. But in the end he was a hero. He'd laid down his life to save people he'd never met. Hiro needed to go back to his father and tell him what had happened.

"I got your extra clothes from your locker, Hiro. We should head off now. Where do you think your father will be?"

Hiro was glad that Ando wasn't talking about what had happened. "He will probably be at the Nakamura Industries apartments." Slowly he slipped into the shirt Ando had retrieved. "Ando, I..."

Ando's eyes narrowed. "I am coming with you. You killed Sylar, so it's safe for me to go with you now."

There was no arguing with that logic. He grabbed Ando's upper arm and willed them to the apartment building. As if he'd called, his father waited behind his desk. Hiro bowed.

"'tosan."

"You have heard?"

Hiro nodded miserably. "I killed Sylar, otosan, but I could not help Peter."

Kaito lay his hand on his son's shoulder. "It is regrettable, but sacrifice is the way of a hero." He walked over to one of the leather chairs and sat down. "I assume you wish to stay in New York for a time?" At Hiro's nod, he shook his head a bit. "You can stay in your sister's apartment."

"But what if she comes here to...?"

"Your sister will get the executive suite, which is only fitting. Her aide is moving her belongings even as we speak. However, while you're here, your obligation to your family cannot be forgotten."

"Otosan?"

From the table beside the chair, Kaito picked up a cream-colored envelope. "I am going home at dawn. There is a function I need you to attend as a representative of this family."

Hiro's eyes widened. "Me? Represent the family?"

"Tomorrow a tailor will come and fit you for a tuxedo."

"Tuxedo?" Hiro squeaked.

"I suppose I should make certain he measures Ando-kun as well."

"Tuxedo?" Ando squeaked.

Kaito almost rolled his eyes, but thought better of it. "Your English is better than his, Ando." He handed Hiro the envelope. "We have already send the RSVP."

Hiro felt his spine stiffen as he looked at the contents. "Petrelli? Why am I attending this party?"

"Our family supported his campaign. It is expected that we will attend his victory celebration. Goodnight, Hiro. I will be leaving early, so I do not expect you to see me off." Before Hiro could say anything further, he got up and headed for the bedroom.

"I cannot go to this party," Hiro growled, glaring at door his father had closed. "Nathan Petrelli is a villain who let his own brother die instead of helping."

"Hiro-kun. I know this is not the best of occasions. However, there is nothing that says you have to stay long."
 
 
18 May 2007 @ 03:40 am
After she and Peter parted ways, Sasha decided to make a run for ice cream at the place closest to the park. She had never been there before, but there was a fairly long line of people waiting to be served. You could always tell if something was good by how many people were willing to wait for it, so she walked in, standing in back of a tale dark haired man who was reading a newspaper.

There had to be at least 30 flavors on the menu, and she had no idea what Claire would like. Actually, there was very little that she knew about her fake cousin the indestructible cheerleader and illegitimate Petrelli. Maybe that would change over the course of the week she had to get to know her, but it definitely wasn't helping Sasha out at the moment. Peter was a chocolate chip cookie dough fan though, so at least she knew where to start. He was getting a small container of that whether he felt like mixing things up or not. One down, one to go. Why was this so overwhelming, anyway?

Sasha realized she was making too big a deal out of this and sighed, shaking her head at her own insecurity. It wasn't as if Claire was going to hate her if she brought home the wrong flavor of ice cream. Still, she was hoping that they would get along. Peter's newly discovered niece was important to him, and that made her important to Sasha too.

Deciding to just give up and go with something random, she reached forward to lightly tap the shoulder of the man in front of her, and smiled when he turned to face her.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but do you know what's good here? I would love a recommendation, I'm just trying this place for the first time and they have a whole lot of flavors--which is a good thing if your brain isn't already overloaded with things to think about--but for me its just a little much."

(Open to Sylar!)
 
 
06 May 2007 @ 11:23 pm
New York reminds Hiro of Tokyo, though it is a city of steel and stone to Tokyo's steel and wood. He finds himself unconsciously moving with the tide of people, though he doesn't step out into the crosswalks when the sign is red. He wonders if these people are really trying to get themselves run over.

He finds, though, that he's far too short in this city of gaijin and it makes it hard for him to really see anything except when he's right on top of them.

"Mi-te! Mi-te!" he says to Ando. He pulls his friend through the throng of now-annoyed people to the store front he wanted to find. "Forbidden Planet!"

He's peering at the books in the window as Ando says, "Are you sure, Hiro-kun? This doesn't look like a place where we'll find an exploding man."

"The latest issue will be out! Perhaps it will tell us where the exploding man is."

Ando shrugs elaborately and follows Hiro into the store. As Hiro tries to remember his American alphabet to find the latest issue, Ando looks around for girls, only to be disappointed that there seem to be only guys around.

"Yattazo!" Hiro crows as quietly as possible, but still with great enthusiasm. He clutches the current issue of "Ninth Wonders" in hand, trying carefully not to crush it to pulp. Quickly he goes to the counter and pays for it.

"Now where?" Ando asks.

"A place where I can read it. A coffee shop will do."

With a shake of his head, Ando blends back into the crowd with his friend.

So, if anyone wants to play with Hiro, he's sitting at a coffee shop.
 
 
30 April 2007 @ 12:43 pm
Who: Sasha and Peter (plus the dog 'cause he's cute)
Where: Central Park
When: Post the talk with Nathan and Claire (the day after Peter has 'died')

After talking to Claire, Peter drove back to his apartment to get Tex. Now he was walking along in the grass waiting for Sasha to get there. He was a little bit early because traffic hadn't been as bad as he'd thought it would be. He got Tex's tennis ball out of his pocket, showed it to the dog and tossed it a short distance so that the dog wouldn't run out of flexi lead. The puppy bounded after the tennis ball, legs going every which way, grabbed it and then started back. Peter laughed and crouched down to the dog's level, praising him for bringing the ball back.

"You are such a good boy," he said, ruffling the dog's ears.
 
 
Current Location: Central Park
I'm feeling : cheerful