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23 June 2007 @ 11:49 pm
Isaac/Sylar - the showdown (or is it?)  
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.
 
 
 
mynameissylar: Powermynameissylar on June 24th, 2007 08:14 pm (UTC)
The door squeaked and Sylar was instantly alarmed. Who would visit Suresh? He barely knew anyone in this country. And other than the phone calls they had made to the various people on the list he had never heard Suresh even speak to anyone but him.

"Suresh?"

The voice ringing through the air sparked a pang of recognition in Sylar's eyes. A smirk slowly but significantly crept across his face. It was one of them.

The moment Peter came into view he pinned the man against the wall, his forearm pressed under the other's chin, making it near impossible for him to speak.

"I remember you. You are like me, aren't you?" He said. Tilting his head to his side, he squinted his eyes and focussed on the man's brain. "I'd like to see how that works", he stated matter-of-factly.

Raising the index finger of his right hand into the air he used his telekinetic abilities to cut open Peter's forehead, the scream that instantly filled the otherwise quiet air did not break Sylar's concentration. He was used to it by now, and he even felt a mutated feeling of joy creep through his body when he heard it. However, what followed did surprise him. Sylar witnessed something quite unexpected; Peter's forehead healed mere seconds after he had cut it open. Momentarily caught of guard he loosened his grip on Peter in which his opponent took the opportunity to give him a full telekinetic blow to the chest. Sylar slammed fully into a closet. His limb body slid on the floor, quickly buried under books and pieced of shelves.

Losing contact with Mohinder the man quickly fell on the ground as well.

Sylar opened his eyes; he saw Mohinder falling but chose to ignore that fact. The man was insignificant, harmless; he had far bigger priorities now. He had seen a glimpse of Peter's powers and they were delicious. He simply had to obtain them. He would deal with Suresh later.

Within seconds he stood on his feet again, across from Peter, ready for the fight he knew beforehand he would win.

Peter glanced at Suresh; did he honestly think he could save them? That was quite pathetic.

"No, no", Sylar mocked him, "I am not done with him yet."

Peter started suddenly started to vanish before his eyes, but this time he made sure to not be caught of guard because of this.

"Interesting, I can't wait to try that one", he simply stated as he already got ready for his next move.

Staying absolutely silent he could hear their heartbeats. It only took Sylar seconds to define the difference between Mohinder's and Peter's. Mohinder's heartbeat was racing fast and irregular, the man was obviously frightened to death. Where Peter's was entirely different on its own. Fear mingled with excitement? Interesting.

Still looking around him, seemingly unmoved, he spread his long fingers and slowly brought them up, and with them the shards of glass that lay all across the apartment. They quietly hovered into the air until he was absolutely certain where in the room Peter was standing. With a single flick of his fingers the pieces of glass shot all across the room, one of them hitting Peter right in the back of the head. The man instantly dropped dead on the floor.

Sylar cocked his head to his side and looked at Peter's inner workings, absorbing the pieces that were broken.

Approaching his now dead opponent he was already mentally taking Peter's brain apart. It completely consumed his own mind and he heard Mohinder approach too late. The map hit him straight in the chest, knocking him hard against the wall after which he unconsciously slid on the floor.

(TBC)
paintonhigh on August 11th, 2007 01:27 pm (UTC)
Part 1 of 2
“A preview?” the young Asian man asked as he descended the stairs. His face lit up as he saw what lay within Isaac’s hands. “Don’t tell me you’ve done something new already! I thought you just wanted me to drop something off.”

Isaac nodded, slotting the last of the hand-drawn pages into the gold envelope. “My editor needs these pages right away, so I thought I’d call my best messenger.”

“Oh man, the new Ninth Wonders! I’ve been dying to find out what happens to Hiro,” Nic said enthusiastically, straining to take a sneak peek over Isaac’s shoulder.

“The latest and the last,” Isaac said, pulling the last page out again for one last longing look before sliding it in again.

“Last?” Nic asked, disappointment in his voice.

“Looks that way.”

“Why? What do you mean?” Nic asked nervously.

“Nevermind.”

Isaac picked up the envelope, now solidly packed with graphical pages, and brushed past Nic hoping he did not fully register his melancholy tone and trying to avoid his gaze. True he sounded suicidal, but it was not he that would cause his own death. That part was yet to come. Not one to be completely left in the dark and still dying to know what was within that envelope Isaac was so hurriedly taking away, Nic raced after him.

“Ah… so what happens to Hiro in this one?”

Slowly Isaac leant forward, lowering his voice to a whisper as if the whole world could hear their conversation. “Promise you won’t post any spoilers?”

Nic smiled and nodded, hoping he was convincing enough. Though they seemed to be dancing around this like a badly acted play, both silently knew that this would not be the case. Nic would discover Hiro’s future and certainly post the gossip on his blog, sending the information out into an endless network of systems that would hopefully find Hiro if the comic did not. With his thumb firmly pressed against the edge of the cover page, Isaac momentarily lifted it to reveal the title “Hiro in the Future”.

“Future!” Nic gasped enthusiastically. “How do you come up with this stuff?”

“It’s a gift. Speaking of which…” Isaac turned and wandered back to his desk. A book lay open depicting the very image that had navigated Simone’s demise – the moment she had kissed Peter in the rain. Saying goodbye to the image forever, Isaac closed the book and brought it back over to Nic, laying it in the palm of his hand.

“Your sketch book? Are you serious?”

“Hold onto it. It might be worth something someday.”

Bouncing excitedly, thrilled with the gift and barely able to speak, the huge fan could only manage to emit a breathy “Thank you” before racing out the door.

Relief washed over Isaac at completing his first task as he wearily lowered his hands back onto the table where the comic had once been. His eyes lifted and locked onto the concealed images of his own death. He knew where he had put them, just slightly out of the way so Nic would not have noticed when he arrived. Not that he did care; he had been too enthused about the new issue.
paintonhigh on August 11th, 2007 01:28 pm (UTC)
Part 2 of 2
[ooc]*laughs at the fact her post was too long*[/bic]

Isaac did not know that Nic, too, had a power. As exuberant a fan as he was, he was only just beginning to discover his new ability. He was a chameleon who could momentarily take on every iota of the Hero he’d just encountered. He was an illusionist at a whole new level. He could do more than just take their powers like Sylar or Peter. He could be them. He would take on their looks, voice, personality, and powers for a short stretch of time. But it was not enough to sustain him for very long.

Ripping open the envelope, Nic leafed through the new comic and froze when he saw one horrific image. Within this comic Hiro had come back from the future to find Isaac dead. Now Nic knew why he’d appeared so forlorn – he knew this was going to happen. And Nic was not about to let his favourite artist die so readily. Instead of delivering the comic, Nic turned and went back to Isaac’s studio.

The man was hard at work on a new painting when Nic re-entered. Isaac didn’t turn, didn’t seem to hear him or acknowledge his presence. As Nic descended the stairs this time his gaze crossed the paintings nearby. There was a lot of destruction depicted within them. And right at the back he saw a bunch of bloody images, a man with his head cut open, a gun. He froze behind Isaac as he saw that again he was painting a crude image of his own death. Nic had to stop him. Glancing down at the sketch book in his hand he lifted it and smacked Isaac across the back of the head. Isaac fell to the ground, seemingly unconscious. Glancing around nervously, Nic grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the bathroom, positioning him upright on the floor next to the toilet and trying to fasten the door with a chair as he closed it. Blinking rapidly, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror before the door finally closed. He certainly looked like Isaac now. Clearing his throat he noticed his voice had changed to suit. And now he felt a strong desire to complete that painting.

Walking back to the canvas, Nic picked up the fabric strap from the table and fastened it around his head, his hand finding the paintbrush and delicately dabbing at the darker colours on the white sheet.

[ooc]Open for Sylar to walk in now. And I completely forgot which way we were playing this LOL So I hope this is okay[/bic]