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Gabriel "Sylar" Gray (godlikesin) wrote in parabolical,
@ 2009-11-04 22:24:00

Entry tags:

gabriel "sylar" gray, lindsey mcdonald

WHO: Gabriel "Sylar" Gray & Lindsey McDonald
WHAT: Memory Extraction
WHEN: After Sylar & Lindsey's conversation
WHERE: The captured mystic's house
RATING: PG-13, possibly higher
STATUS: In Progress

This was child's play. The man had already been worked over rather sufficiently so anything that he could do to him would almost be overkill. It was a nice job: efficient without being overly bloody, thorough without being deadly. He'd have to compliment Lindsey on his handiwork after this was all over and done with. Sylar stood in the doorway, analyzing the man's defiant posture even as his stance wavered as the concussion he was suffering sent a ripple through his vision. Sylar was sure that the only reason he was still in the chair was because he was tied to it.

Closing the door behind him, allowing it to go slowly so that as the door closed, a distinct click sounded in the air, attracting the man's attention from where his eyes had zoned out on a spot on the far wall. A smirk spreading over his face, Sylar tilted his head to the side as he stepped into the room, folding his arms across his chest as he stepped towards the man, "So, I hear you're being difficult," He said. The statement didn't seem to effect the man. If only it turned a defiant expression that much more so, a hint of arrogance in the man's eyes. Oh, that was a mistake. Pride remaining meant that there was something left to be destroyed in him. "That's not a very good strategy, not if you value your own health and welfare."

"What do you care about my welfare?"

And the bait was taken, Sylar snorting and casting a hand dismissively over his shoulder, "Not at all. Neither do either of the people out there waiting for me to be done. You see where I'm going with this, right? What's there to stop us from killing you?"

"You need me."

It was a predictable rebuttal, disgustingly so. Sylar circled, stalking the man in the chair even though he was hardly about to move. The more closed in he felt, the more likely he was to get anxious and thus sloppy. Hands settling on the back of the man's chair in a sudden movement, Sylar smirked, "And how long will that last? A week, a day, a couple of hours, or will we be able to dismiss you in a few minutes time? It's all up to you, you know. And we're likely to go easier if you just give the information up. You know what we want. I'm not going to make any promises if we have to take it from you."

"You're not going to do anything. I'm just a middle man. You White Hats only ever go after the head."

Sylar smirked, hands gripping the back of the chair tighter as he pulled it back, setting the man off balance as he leaned forward, hissing in his ear, "Didn't anyone tell you? The White Hats aren't handling this, and I'm..." Sylar said, arching his finger and slicing a thin line along the man's collarbone, careful not to cut anything vital in the process, "just as bad as you are."

He'd almost forgotten how much he enjoyed that sound. Even pride couldn't cover pain, and the man's screams, his vain attempts to thrash away, and the way that his head lulled forward in defeat as soon as the cut ended, posture slouching as blood soaked through his shirt. As much fun as this was, taking his time with this one like he had with Simmons wasn't in the schedule. He was sure that he had done all he needed to do now as he slinked around in front of the man, jerking his head up with telekinesis, holding his eyes forward and up so that he could look square down into them. "Where is she?"

"Go to hell."

Sylar's hand ghosted out in an instance, his memory flickering and filling with all of the information that he needed as it was pulled directly to the forefront of this man's mind. His face twisted into a grim smile as he flicked his finger, cracking the man's neck and knocking him out, "Close. But not quite."

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morallydamaged
2009-11-05 05:06 am UTC (link)

After Sylar had arrived, Lindsey had shown him to the bedroom and then given him the room he needed to work. Meanwhile across the hall, he'd located a bucket and a bottle of bleach under the sink. He wiped off the tools he'd used thoroughly to remove the prints and then dumped them in the bucket. It might've been overkill but he'd seen one too many cases where all it had taken was a single partial or a little bit of DNA and there was no way in hell he was giving his old employers that kind of leverage. Maybe they'd know but proving it would be another matter.

From their conversation over the boards, he'd already started to respect the man. His views, at least, when it came to taking sides and the ideals that came with it. That and he was getting some screams worthy of a B horror movie out of the mystic, who in his humble opinion deserved it all and more.

Kicking the bucket in between the toilet and the bathtub, he headed out of the bathroom and leaned against the far wall, listening with half a mind. The other was already racing ahead, taking stock of what they might need, who they might need, and what would need to happen. He pulled out his phone to send a text to Sarah when he realized it had gotten quiet. Lindsey pushed away from the wall and ventured over to the door, knocking on it with his knuckles before he gave the door a push. "Anything?"

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godlikesin
2009-11-05 05:30 am UTC (link)

"She's some sort of hell dimension, a kind of holding point," Sylar said, frowning at the imagines running through his mind. It was worse than any of the prisons that he'd been in, what he'd seen in that other man's mind. Of all of the things that he had done, all of the things that he could be accused of, there was absolutely nothing that he'd done that could come close to this. "They're feeding her lies, mental manipulation, trying to break her."

There was a quiet edge in Sylar's voice, a mix of disgust and anger as his tone as his hands sparked at the defensive feelings that were ignited in him. There had been few people here who had actually been decent to him. Cathy had been one of those. And while it didn't surprise him that there were people capable of doing something this heartless, it was still just as enraging as it would have been if he'd still been able to be surprised by the cruelty of humanity.

"I hope you know a way to get there because that's out of my depth."

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morallydamaged
2009-11-05 05:49 am UTC (link)

The news came like a hard kick to the gut. He drew in a deep breath as terror for what Cathy was being subjected to in that dimension and fury at Wolfram and Hart, at the mystic, at anyone even remotely associated with this plan of theirs mixed. He remembered all too well the time spent in one and felt sick. They could be telling, showing her anything. Hurting her, scaring her. It was worse than he'd expected.

Something snapped. He wanted one last chance to convey his disapproval. His foot connected with the mystic and the chair toppled over with a loud thump. Lindsey backed off, running a hand through his hair as he drew in a deep breath. He wanted blood, retribution, but first he had to get Cathy out of there before anymore damage was done.

"Not the way needed, but I know someone who might." He retrieved his phone, focusing on writing out the text. "Thank you. If it wasn't for what you just did..." He shook his head. "I appreciate it."

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godlikesin
2009-11-05 06:44 am UTC (link)

"Anyone with a conscience would have done the same thing if they'd been able," Sylar said, inclining his head towards Lindsey in thanks even as he was brushing his actions off at simply a matter of common sense. "That's hardly a situation that anyone deserves to be stuck in," He said, glancing back at the man down laying on the floor. "Not even trash like that."

It was reassuring, at least, that he knew where to go from here because Sylar would have been lost and left stewing in his anger. It just showed how much information that he still didn't have about this reality.

"Whatever actions you take against the people that have done this, would it be too much to ask that I'm a part of it?" Sylar asked. He was hardly about to let this go unpunished, and he was never one to trust someone else to get something done and get it done right.

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morallydamaged
2009-11-05 07:26 pm UTC (link)

Right now I wouldn't be opposed to it." Given a few days, he'd probably be thinking differently, after the anger faded. But for the moment, he couldn't think of a better place to dump him. "Anyone with a conscience would, but not all of them would've been able to do what it took."

It didn't take him long to consider the request. He knew well enough that Sylar and Peter hadn't been on the best of terms, Sarah through association with Peter, but so far, he'd been a great asset, a more than competent ally, and someone with a similiar path of reasoning. That was all he needed to be convinced.

Pushing away from the wall, Lindsey nodded. "I don't see why not," he replied. "I will tell you that you're going to be working with Sarah Petrelli. Is that going to be a problem?" It was a neutral, blunt question, but given the background, something he needed to know.

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