Reality Crisis

Peter felt it before he saw it. He knew, intimately, what that particular ability felt like. Harry's giant of a dog was still keeping pace with him, but Peter had promised that the dog wouldn't come to harm... kind of. When he was close enough to see the glow coming through Sylar's skin, Peter didn't hesitate. He kicked off his heels and flew at the villain, driving his shoulder into Sylar's gut and dragging him along at something only slightly below the speed of sound.

He didn't fly long, not at that speed, but he'd taken them high enough to skirt over some trees, and then slammed them both to the ground, keeping Sylar underneath him.

Not another explosion. That was not going to happen. Not so long as Peter lived. "Never. Ever. Again." he growled, accentuating each word with a blow to Sylar's head, his hand wrapped around a heavy stone and delivered with all the strength he could must.

Sylar knew what Peter's wizard friends looked like. They had long been a source of both curiosity and anger for him. He knew full well that the wizards and given Peter a way to shut down his own powers and Sylar could only guess that Peter was working with them to find a way to shut down Sylar's powers.

Sylar was determined not to let that happen. He was also intensely curious about magic. Was it genetic? If so, could he read that ability like he had with so many other wonderful, special abilities?

He had changed faces so many times lately in an effort stay hidden. He knew that Peter and his new superpowered friends would be looking for him. He knew that the confrontation would come soon. He just wanted it on his terms.

Today, he was outside the wall. The zombies seemed to be gone and life was starting to return to normal. Sylar wasn't sure where Peter might be hiding out and he'd given his word to Bane that he wouldn't storm the walls of Sanctuary looking for his foe. So instead, he was waiting out here while he contemplated his next move.

When one of the wizards walked by, Sylar grinned. He wouldn't have to go in after Peter. He knew exactly how to flush the other man out.

Carlos wouldn't even see Sylar coming. He didn't stop to take on a familiar face. He didn't stop to play games. He simply made sure that they were out of sight of any of the guards and raised his finger to point. His telekinesis sliced through the delicate skin on the wizard's forehead. As soon as the limp body fell to the ground, Sylar was there, looking. Searching.

A slow grin spread across his face as he realized that magic was, in fact, genetic. It might take some time to learn how to use the abilities properly, but the base skill could be obtained simply enough with a little bit of study of the brain. This world was a whole new candyshop for him. Where he'd thought that he'd obtained every ability that could be of use to him back in his world, now he realized that the possibilities were endless in this new world.

Sylar was still on the lookout for Peter. He'd taken to haunting the outside of Sanctuary trying to see if Peter was still there. And if he was, he wanted the chance to get the other man on his own. He had also started looking around the faerie forest in the hopes of finding any sort of hidey hole that Peter might carve out for himself.

Neither attempt worked thusfar. It was irritating and Sylar was half contemplating just attacking everyone that Peter might have worked with or had connection with. That would draw him out at least.

Any plans to do that, however, were waylaid at the moment. On a trip to check out the situation in Sanctuary yet again, Sylar ran into a mass of teeming bodies. All of them were in varying states of decay, all moaning and moving at a slow pace.

Zombies. Not just zombie-like beings like those Netvors, but actual zombies. It might even be entertaining if he didn't have better things to do.

He lobbed a few fireballs in the direction of the horde, aiming to slow them down while he used his telekinesis to slice away at them. It was all about destroying the brain in whatever manner he could manage.

Peter was not only alive, but Sylar now knew where he was hiding. Then again, Sylar didn't expect Peter to stick around for long. The time had come to seek out the other man and put an end to this once and for all. Since Peter most likely knew he was coming, this would have to take special care.

Sylar reached the small little sanctuary but didn't try to get past the walls. Not just yet. Instead, he settled for searching the perimeter. He was trying to get a feel for the place and the people within. He was able to catch snatches of conversation, trying to glean as much information as he could.

If he had to burn the place to the ground to kill Peter he would. He had no qualms about that.

Backdated to before this thread

Sylar had looked and looked through die Festung and had yet to find
Peter. He knew that the other man had ways of hiding, but he thought
that it was possible that Peter had chosen a different hidey-hole. The
nearest settlement was Sanctuary and Sylar rather thought that the
title itself might appeal to his foe. So he headed that way. He'd
packed some snacks for himself before he set out and he spent some
time watching the perimeter of the city before he selected a face that
would let him inside.

Once inside, he started his search. He was hungry so he took out the
energy bar and started eating as he looked.

When the bar was finished, the illusion slipped away as Sylar forgot
how to access the abilities he'd stolen over his lifetime. His chosen
name even faded away as Gabriel looked around himself. He tried not to
panic too much as he realized that he didn't recognize where he was.
There were a lot of things in his head that felt like remnants of
nightmares, though somehow he had the sneaking feeling that they were
more than that.

( Amazing what a change in perspective can do... )

Effie sat on a patch of ground, constantly taking apart and reassembling her small handgun. She had left the bullets in the hut, but the action calmed her, a familiar task. She had memories pounding at her head like a badly out of focus movie and it was driving her slowly insane. She wasn't...that wasn't her. Those weren't her memories.

She was Effie Nigma, daughter of Samantha and Marcelus Giovanni, grand-daughter of Sofia Giovanni, the adopted redheaded brat to a large Italian family, raised with love and care in Boston Mass, she was in her seventh year at Our Lady of Serenity and a cheerleader. She was best friends with Duela Dent and Tim Drake, ran around in the night under a mask with the name Enigma, The Riddler's Daughter in honor of her father...and she was a good person.

She was not eighteen, she was not a thief, she did not run a criminal gang and she was not building an empire. She had never fought Batman (though it would be cool to spar with him, he had sweet moves), she had never been in Blackgate or Arkham Asylum...hell she hadn't even been to Gotham, despite begging Robin.

...she was not a murderer.

Right?

Bruce's concerns about Oliver weighed heavily on Dinah's mind. Something was off about Oliver, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was perhaps the mismatch between the memories of her world's Oliver and this Oliver, who was from a different world. Maybe it was how turned around she'd been ever since her trip to the City and back. Or maybe there was something to Bruce's worries, whatever it might be.

She hated to admit that Bruce had an annoying way of being right more often than not. But then again, when it came to people, he also tended to be more cynical and didn't trust very easily. She'd proved him wrong with Helena after all.

Whatever the case, she had to talk to Oliver one-on-one. She had to give him that chance to explain further. And she had to take more time to decide for herself if he could be trusted.

----

The attempt on Kitty Pryde had not gone well. Sylar's bruises had healed quickly after she'd moved him, but his ego hadn't quite recovered. He'd never had that much trouble when seeking powers. Ironic that he'd considered her the easiest prey. He'd assumed that he would go after her ability, and then add that to his arsenal before going after the others.

He had changed his face back to Oliver Queen's before his return to die Festung. With Peter still alive, his real face wasn't safe for now. And no doubt the mutant who could walk through walls would run straight to her metal boyfriend so that face was out of the question now too.

He was angry as he paced Oliver Queen's apartment like a caged animal. If he wasn't careful, he would very quickly run out of options. People were too concentrated here. It was much harder to hide, even with his abilities. And those with powers were different from those with powers in his world. Sure, he had known that going into this. But he supposed he had underestimated them all.

It wouldn't happen again.

The knock at his door piqued his interest. A look through the keyhole only further heightened his interest.

He wouldn't make the same mistake with Dinah. Not again.

He beamed as he let her in, a welcoming smile. He accepted the quick hug and only half-listened as she started to ask her questions. He couldn't bring himself to care. Not even a little bit.

The surprise on her face was gratifying when he flung her against the wall and started to cut into her forehead. He was careful, very careful to avoid being in the line of fire for that pesky scream. He wanted it to be sure, but he didn't want to be on the receiving end of it.

His adopted face of Oliver Queen had resulted in a gift for Sylar. Even if the Bat didn't seem to trust him, the Canary had given him names of mutants. Mutants were the most likely to work like those from his world, which meant that their powers could be taken. While Sylar wanted Dinah's scream if only because Peter must have been granted it just by coming into contact with her, he wanted other powers that Peter might not have. More than that, he suspected that it might be worth his while to see if he could get more information out of the bird if he could get her alone.

For now, he spent his time tracking down the two names that had piqued his interest the most. Kitty Pryde and Piotr Rasputin. She might not have given their full names, but she had given enough information that anyone who knew his comics could put the pieces together.

He managed to do quite a bit of intel-gathering in a short period of time. After that, it was simply a matter of waiting to catch Ms. Pryde on her own. He had decided that it would be best to go after the young woman who could walk through walls first. And he had also decided that Oliver Queen's face would be of no help to him. It was better to choose a face that she knew and trusted.

A face that she loved. That was key. Once she was on her own somewhere that he was sure was secluded enough that no one would hear her screams (if there were any), Sylar took on the face of the man who was clearly her boyfriend before approaching her.

Once Clark had sped off, Dinah let herself into the cave. If the Batman was home, she had no doubt that he knew she was here. It was odd to think about the fact that this version of Bruce seemed to trust and like her, according to Clark. Back home, she generally got the feeling that Bruce tolerated her and that there was maybe a small, albeit grudging, amount of trust. It was more here. She was still getting used to it, still separating the two in her mind, but she couldn't deny that Clark was right.

Why or what that might mean was lost on her, but she was glad for it. She was also determined not to push him too far and not to take advantage of that trust.

Getting him to come to die Festung and meet the potential team members wasn't her idea of pushing. Or it might be, but it was also necessary. He needed the chance to meet the people that they would hopefully work with.

Her gait was steady, confident. She was still getting used to her newly healed limbs, but it felt good. There was a part of her that wanted a rematch to the spar earlier-a part that really wanted to test out what she could do now that Peter had healed her. Then again, that match had ended in very... confusing way. She hadn't meant to kiss him, but their lips had touched all the same. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if they hadn't been interrupted, even if she knew she probably shouldn't. Wondering about that too much or even wishing for anything would just make the fact that they were living in very close quarters awkward. No. Better to keep her mind on all of the things that needed to be done and everything going on outside the cave.

Peter was dead. He'd made sure of it. He'd left the body there, brains open to the air with little pause to mourn the death of his old enemy. He might miss the challenge, and it was a shame to let all of those wonderful abilities go to waste but there had been no safe way to take them on. Not without potentially killing himself.

Sylar had done what needed to be done to ensure his survival. And he would continue to do so. There were others of interest. He wasn't sure if their brains would work the same, but he was eager to find out.

First, however, he needed a new face. Nathan Petrelli had been the perfect choice in fooling Peter. But now that Peter was gone, Nathan didn't mean a whole lot to anyone else.

The Justice League, particularly, was of interest. All of those abilities, for one. For another, if they found out about him they might be likely to try to stop him. Try being the operative word.

After asking around and spending quite a bit of time listening, Sylar had enough information to choose his new face. He chose the face of one who had been here and had disappeared. One who might just gain the trust of those whom he was most interested in. Oh, he was interested in the wizards as well but this face was just another temporary choice. Perhaps he could find out enough to dupe the wizards as well. Eventually, he would find a way to wipe out all of the chosen. And then there would simply be him. Chosen and special and alone, as it was always meant to be.

For now, Sylar had procured a key to Oliver Queen's quarters. He was headed there currently, ready to familiarize himself with the man whose shoes he would be filling for the forseeable future.

Sylar had returned from exploring and knocked on the door to Peter's
apartment. Even if he had arranged for his own quarters, he still
needed to keep up appearances. Which meant visiting his 'brother' more
often than he would like, if given the choice. There were so many
interesting things to explore before he was revealed. It had been so
tempting to crack open Molly's head and see how the witch-or Ragged
Lady, whatever she was calling herself-worked. But he knew that the
moment he did that, he'd be leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for Peter
to follow. It wouldn't take long for the younger Petrelli to figure
out the face that Sylar was using. All the same, the ruse was worth it
to see the look on his face when he did.

Of course, whenever that happened, he knew all about that magic little
bracelet that would basically be an off-switch for Peter's powers.
That was a handy invention right there. He'd have to thank the wizard
who'd made it for Petrelli. Eventually.

( ... )

Sylar had been sure to see the leader of the city as soon as Peter let him. From there, he made arrangements to have his own place. He would have to break the news to Peter, who seemed quite glad to have his 'brother' back to life.

Oh how that would end up when the other shoe fell on him. While he looked forward to unmasking himself at some point, there was much to learn about this new world before he spoiled the fun. And with Peter around, it would be easier to learn things as Nathan Petrelli.

For now, he took to exploring within the walls of die Festung. He asked a few questions here and there but nothing too conspicuous. Besides, most people that he had talked to so far were simply locals. There wasn't anything special or particularly useful about them. From what he could gather, the Chosen ones were treated with a reverence and rumors abounded. Some had built them up to be gods. Though perhaps they were-if Peter and himself were any indication. Others simply seemed to tolerate their presence, not that they would say as much when speaking to one of the outsiders.

All Sylar knew was that he was growing very weary of having to play the nice heroic type when confronted with such boring, ordinary humans.

The fight was bloody, nasty, and filled with low blows and undercuts.
Sylar was having the time of his life, even while fighting for it. He
had no need to take on Peter's base gift since he had his own ways of
acquiring powers, but oh the powers buried within him. Sylar wondered
what the brain that had acquired all of those powers would look like.

There was an edge of curiosity, a fascination with the workings of
this particular brain. While Sylar might have wanted to take it apart
and see how it worked, he also couldn't help but want to keep the man
who was his equal around for a little longer. Trading shot for shot,
ice and fire and super-punches among other things, there was a sort of
beauty in the brutal violence that could only come from the truly
gifted.

At some point in the fight, something went wrong. Sylar didn't know
what had happened or how, but suddenly Peter was nowhere to be found
and he was stuck in the middle of the wreckage of a city. He took a
minute to draw in a breath and then waited for his wounds to heal.
They would, of course. The former cheerleader had ensured that. Once
the wounds were healed, Sylar restored the presidential visage that
he'd grown so accustomed to wearing over the past few years. He didn't
know where he was, but it couldn't hurt to look like the leader of one
of the world's powers, could it?

( Brother vs. Brother. It's almost... biblical. )