bakerstreet | (no subject)

[Wow. She is in love. (She is seventeen, no one is surprised.) Waiting for a break in traffic, she sprints over to the guy. After a second his curious look turns flirtatious and Lila moves forward with a quick sashay of her hips. Another second and his hand is on her waist and her fingers are running through his hair. He leans in like he is going to kiss her and then all at once his knees crumble (will save 6, yeah I rolled for him). Lila steps back a bit, and looks over her shoulder at Sylar, her smile turning sly.

That's when the screaming starts. Wild, terrified keening, like a wounded animal gnawing its leg off, as the nightmares assault his mind at Lila's leisure. Lila who has the awareness to back up more and allow her features to turn worried -- you know, like she actually gives a shit and isn't enjoying his suffering from abject terror because she was bored.]

Edited 2013-07-17 05:39 (UTC)

[

no really though. he is fucking enamored. actually, maybe not enamored as much as intrigued because HOW THE FUCK DOES THAT WORK and wanting to know how things work is the driving force in his life. lila has become a beautiful new puzzle for him to take apart (but not literally, in this particular instance.) as soon as the traffic lulls again, he dashes across the street to join up with her. ]

How does that work? [watch him ... ignore the screaming hot mess lila is mindfucking rn.]

[She shrugs absently, most of her focus still on torturing the guy. It's easier, surprisingly, for her to make people do things than to force nightmares on them, she has to dive so much deeper for nightmares.]

Its genetic, like... uh, hold on. [She shakes her head, she can't explain the genetics of her power and shatter this guys sanity at the same time.

Her fingers flex, curling into fists before her thin fingers splay out again and she stops her assualt on his delicate psyche. His hands hit the ground, supporting himself while Lila's mind wanders. She looks up at her No Named Man, looking a little tired.]

It's a chemical thing. It's genetic but not hereditary. My dad... my dad was a luck worker -- he could manipulate luck. I'm a dream worker. [She snaps her fingers and the man kneeling at her feet like in prayer screams again.] That suffice for now? I'm a bit busy...

[If that sounds like a good power... it probably won't when she explains the blowback.]

Oh, don't mind me. As you were. [ he takes a couple steps back. it's no big, he's totally ok with watching. and with mulling over this new information in the interim. mostly about what he could do if he had that awesome power. +_+ although since he still has a giant boner for lila, it's more like ... how can he manipulate her to use her awesome power for his benefit. basically he's fantasizing bonnie and clyde road trips.]

Thanks. [She lets the guy stop screaming, looking bored, maybe a little annoyed, worry gone. It's not like they're not making a scene but he looks like the crazy one. Lila just looks like his long suffering... something. Tugging at his will, she makes him stand up and come towards her. She makes a face -- as with most things, he was prettier from far away -- and holds out her hand.

Methodically, he takes out his wallet and hands it to her. His shiny designer watch. His one diamond stud. The gold chain and medal. A silver zippo. A handful of change. She lets him keep the sunglasses because behind them his eyes are closed and she dumps everything else in her bag to look through later. He steps back from her and moves away. Seeming pleased, she turns to Sylar, taking his hand and moving in the opposite direction.]

Come on, I want a good view.

[sylar's internal monologue: OMG DID SHE JUST???? SHE DID. HOLY SHIT OMG. SUTEKIIIIIIIII (◕‿◕✿)

he willingly follows her along, and tries to talk semi-quietly. ish. like it mattered.]

You're thorough, aren't you?

[She can't tell if he is teasing, but she keeps walking, trying to find some kind of outdoor cafe thing they can sit at.]

It's a Movado. That is a nice watch. I didn't want it to be ruined.

[Which implies it soon would be -- or would have been.] Oh! Over there, coffee shop.

[movado ... nice watch ... that leaves a weird feeling in his head, something like deja vu. he almost says something, but decides against it. whatevs. it couldn't be that important, or he'd remember it. right............?]

Great. Are we getting coffee after? Like a celebratory dessert thing.

Yup. [Tug tug tug. Pause at the crosswalk because safety first. Tug tug tug. Oh hay, this one has a cheery little umbrella. She lets go of his hand as she sits down, angling her chair so she can see the guy just sort of loitering there like he is waiting for something.] Oh no. He is the kind of dickhead who bought the new version of the iPhone when he already had the old one. [She looks stricken for a second and pouts.] I knew I forgot something.

[ballin'. he drops down into the seat next to hers and adjusts to get a better look at the upcoming action, too. it's exciting.] What, did you swipe the wrong phone? Forget to upgrade?

No I forgot to grab it at all. [Le sigh, do you know how much people will pay for that on eBay? A lot. Because idiots.] Whatever. [Her nose wrinkles a second before she drops her chin into her hands and sets to watching the guy.] It shouldn't take long... Big city, I assume the... Yep.

[A bus rounds the corner and slows as it approaches a stop and then... the guy walks right into it. He might not die, Lila doesn't really care. But it's a show regardless.]

[he stretches back and puts his hands behind his head while watching. it was a little anticlimactic, he decided. there could have been more blood. the sound the body made hitting the bus was kind of cool, though. it was bouncing and bones cracking simultaneously. he considers looking more concerned while the bus stops and the people who aren't close enough to be really freaked out are at least kind of looking at each other like "o_o". but, eh. that was overrated. there are more important things at hand. like:] So you can do that all the way from over here? What's your range? Do you know?

[She shakes her head, still watching the people who witnessed it. Oh they were going to be so traumatized; late for their appointments and plagued with nightmares of the guy who used their bus to attempt suicide. She mentally pats herself on the back -- all those birds one tiny little pebble.]

I told him to do that back there. But the range is at least the distance from the ground to the roof of a four story building. [Since that was her chosen vantage point when she told Cassel to, literally, take a flying leap. Except Cassel's will save was probably 100000 and this guy's was 10 so fuck them both..] It's like sleepwalking. Or hypnosis. A hypnotized sleepwalker. I can't exactly ask him if it felt weaker the farther away I got.

Ha! I think that woman is actually having a heart attack. [Chortle.]

Maybe you should next time. [sylar teases, but he's hella impressed. what a perfect not-gf. after she points the woman out, he lasers his hearing in on her. yep, her heart rate was off the charts. impressive.] Seems that way. Just when you think we couldn't wreak any more havoc ...

[Her plans have plans have plans. Always rocking planception.]

We? [She raises one eyebrow like, bitch what? Don't be like Cassel, dude, don't take credit for her violent brilliance.]

[shrug.] I helped.

[did you really, sylar??? DID YOU REALLY?????]

[She lets it slide because of their library tryst okay. But she sticks her tongue out. And then starts rifling through her stuff again like it ain't no thang.] Ooh cash. God, he was such a douche. Who pays in hundreds, honestly?

[he leans forwards to try and get a better look at douche mcgee's belongings.] What, does he only have hundreds? Really?

[She pulls out the bills, taps them against the table to make them uniform and then counts them lighting fast -- like those bank tellers that can speed count.] Uh, nope. There's a twenty. I wonder if he even knew. [She cuts the stack in half and then halves one of the stacks, holding out the quarter stack to him. He only helped.] Do you want the watch?

Edited 2013-07-19 00:44 (UTC)

Bet someone ripped him off. [he pockets the stack she gives him — not gonna argue with that, tbh.] The watch? [AH WHY IS THERE SO MUCH DEJA VU WHAT DOES IT MEAN????] Sure, why not. It looked nice.

[Dig dig dig she snatches the watch up and holds it out for a second before pulling it back and making a come here motion with her hand. Bitch she is going to put this on like a corsage because she is a classy date.] Maybe he was a really high end drug dealer. Or a pimp. Or some rapper -- is that judgmental, thinking all rappers are dumb enough to carry that much cash around?

[he rolls his eyes a little bit but obliges her. why he is the bitch of a 17-year-old girl this is a problem. oh well ... ] Nah. Aren't most rappers pimps and drug dealers, too? But he probably wasn't an actual rapper. I mean, if he were, there would have been people screaming his name when they saw the bus smash into him. And more pictures being taken. So, I'm thinking he's probably a producer, if you're gonna go that route.

[She was a cat for three years -- a cat; the only domesticated animal that you still think might kill you in your sleep. She's got bitch making on lock.]

I'm a little disappointed he wasn't more well known then. I like the idea of women throwing themselves at his coffin.

[There. Lovely watch for the lovely... man.]

[so sweet. :') sylar pulls his wrist back to examine the watch and adjust the way it's sitting. he immediately notices it's ten seconds slow, which he realizes is really fucking bizarre, but he'd rather think about that ... later.]

Who knows, he's probably got a good handful of girlfriends who'll show up at his funeral and squabble over what's left of his money.

[Since Lila only remembers going to one funeral and it sure is a shitty, shitty memory -- she abruptly changes the subject... that she brought up.]

When you -- [She waves a pale hand at where she got stab happy.] -- do you get... side effects?