Participants:
| Scene Title | A Sylar on the Roof |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Helena and Alexander meet with Sylar at their old HQ for some negotiations. |
| Date | October 6, 2008 |
Condemned Tenement — Rooftop
While some parts of the roof are less structurally sound then others, someone seems to have sorted out which areas are dangerous and blocked them off. Some overhangs have been jury-rigged up to block a direct aerial view that gives definite indication of the presence of squatters - a rooftop garden, clearly meant to provide sustenance rather than aesthetic. Tubs full of dirt are situated to take best advantage of the light despite the overhangs meant to keep them from prying eyes. Tomatoes, beans, carrots, even potatoes and onions and chili peppers are carefully tended, little laminated labels indicating what each row of planting is. There's a seperate section for a small variety of herbs, and a sole small window sill style planter that houses the one concession to beauty; a row of sunflowers, and even these can be harvested for their seeds. Here and there decrepit lawn furniture has been scattered to give the illusion of abandonment; a stone bench here, an ironwork table with chairs there, one of those latticed metal fold-up chairs leaned at an awkward angle in a corner. Aside from the overhangs, the rest of the roof is open to the sky, providing a view of the city and the span of rooftops surrounding the tenement.
Popular movies will tell us that to take care of a relationship, one needs to master taking care of a pot plant first. So it's no wonder that Sylar is surrounded by withering, dying plants, the slow process of death a suitable garden for now. In a button-down, slacks, and sensible shoes, Sylar looks positively harmless, almost like a clerk on his day off. He sits on a stone bench pushed right up towards a ledge, looking almost serene as he watches the horizon. But in fact, he's not really watching much at all, especially seeing as a nighttime horizon is nearly invisible anyway — but he's listening very carefully.
"You told me you'd take care of them."
One foot after the other follows Helena as she places them on the roof's ground, having clambered up the side by way of the fire escapes. "How can we expect to trust you if you can't keep a few plants alive?" There's someone with her of course — she would have come alone, but Alex was insistent. Air starts to cool upon her arrival and begins to condense, even as she starts looking around, the air talks on a moist, misty quality. "Good evening. You wanted to talk."
Alexander is the loyal goon, quite prepared to Sith hand the ever-living hell out of the serial killer should he so much as twitch an eyebrow the wrong way at Helena. He leaps up nimbly, perhaps showing-off a little bit….or for the sheer joy of it. But otherwise, he says nothing, pale face grimmer than ever, blue eyes positively chilly.
"They have a habit of dying far too easy," Sylar says, now turning a look towards the two, not surprised by their appearance. His gaze settles on Alexander for a second, a twitch of a smirk, then back to Helena. Casually, he stands up, hands sliding into the pockets of his slacks. "I got impatient," he says. "Where's your other faithful sidekick?"
"Weird, for a watchmaker to get impatient." Helena says with a shrug. "If you mean Claire, she's not my sidekick, and she's not available. I'm assuming you know that Peter isn't a prisoner anymore." Oh no. He's their new golden boy. She doesn't offer an introduction and handshake for Alex. No doubt Sylar remembers his grip, so to speak.
Alexander meets Sylar's gaze levelly. It's not a staring contest, by any means, but nor does he seem particularly afraid of the watchmaker.
"Not in the most conventional of ways, no, Peter isn't their prisoner," Sylar says, keeping his focus on Helena, and his senses on Alexander. He's very familiar with what he considers to be his most favoured of abilities, after all. "But they'll keep him for as long they want. And you know, Peter didn't even recognise you." There's… a shimmer over Sylar's features, is the only way that can describe, as if they were changing temporarily… but it's over in a second, and the same man stands there. Just a hint, an underscoring to emphasise what he meant. "It's disappointing."
"We need to get him back. But that's stating the obvious." Helena is nervous around Sylar. Anyone smart would be. She just refuses to let it lead her to running away gibbering and drooling like a frantic rabbit. "And that means a deal to arrange a swap wouldn't do us much good. You know that it's redundant now, so I'm guessing you have something else in mind now?"
Alexander takes a slow pace forward, still a few steps behind and to the left of Helena. He's still watching Sylar like a hawk, but his expression is curiously neutral. Like he has no real opinion of Gray.
That's a good question, Helena, but Sylar doesn't reward it with an answer immediately yet. He starts to move around the roof, along the perimeter, stepping over debris. "I want to know what you'll do with him, if we're to work together," he says, that last part coming out as a sneer as he addresses both people. "He has all that power, enough that he can break whatever leash they're keeping him on. What're you gonna do when I give him back to you and he doesn't even know any of your faces? Doesn't even remember the last two years?"
Helena gives Sylar a very frank look. You're not trusting me with all the answers, so why should I trust you? "We'll find a way to trigger his memory." she says. Inundate him with mementos. Try to bring out Cat's perfect recall. Something. All these answers she keeps silent. "There are some truisms to Peter's personality that won't be different regardless of him being tabula rasa. If we can convince him he serves a better purpose to stay with us - or at least listen to us in good faith, he'll at least wait that long."
Alexander's gaze flickers to Helena. She's still the spokeswoman, apparently. There's an uneasiness in the blue gaze at the memory of Peter's utter lack of recall. It's like a death, only worse, somehow.
"I'll be more than happy to help remind him of a few things," Sylar says, in an almost casual tone of voice, but— they've had that discussion already. "The trade isn't out of the question but I'm sure you're smart enough to realise that as this point, a contingency plan wouldn't be a bad idea. I'm more in favour of taking what I want anyway." His pacing has brought him closer, and his gaze flicks towards Alexander. "I'm sure you know the feeling."
"What you want is Adam Monroe, isn't it?" Helena asks. "There's no reason for the Company to willingly give up their new top agent. But the longer he stays with them, the harder it will be to get him out. And I don't know what kind of resources you think we have, but Monroe could be anywhere in the city — in the world — by now."
Alexander just arches a brow expectantly at Sylar. What?
"Like I said before… you have the network needed to contact Monroe. I don't," Sylar says, not seeming to heartbroken over admitting this to them, because… it's true. It's hard out there for a lone wolf. "And believe me, you want your resources to be that good, Helena. It will be in your best interests to stay useful to me… and in mine to stay useful to you. You don't want me abandoning this deal and going after your flock of sheep, now do you?"
But they don't, and that's the problem. Helena swallows her frustration. "I'll see what we can do." she grits out. "But since it wouldn't be a trade anymore, what are you offering in exchange? Bringing Peter to us on a platter? Brains intact." she adds.
Alexander merely narrows his eyes faintly. No reason to speak the threat allowed — just the two of them were enough to bring Sylar to the edge of death.
"You get Peter Petrelli," Sylar confirms, backing up again. "In one whole, healthy piece, aside from whatever it is the Company's done to him to turn him into Best Employee of the Month. That will be your problem, not mine." He glances to Alexander, noting the glare he's given. He rewards the telekinetic with a small smirk. "Down, Fido."
Helena is silent for a long time. Characteristic Helena silence, weighing the options before speaking. "What exactly would you need from us, now that Elle Bishop really isn't so useful? If we found you a location, would that be enough?" What's the price here, Lucifer?
Alexander merely smiles, thinly. Like it's all a big joke between friends.
"It had better be a good location," Sylar says, gaze dragging from Alexander and back to Helena. "And it had better not be a lie. I don't like it when people lie to me." He moves away from them, now, a hand moving out to touch the one sunflower that's managed to stay alive, fingertips toying gently with the petals. "You know the terms, and you know where to find me. The next time I have to contact one of your people to seek you out again, the message won't be so mild."
"There's a dog bowl in the junk pile on the right side of the stoop." Helena says. "Someone will check it every day. If you flip it upside down, someone will be in touch with you within two or three hours if not sooner. That's the best I can do, but I'm not exactly going to give you my AIM name." She smiles, showing teeth. "That do?"
Sylar smiles back, also with a flash of teeth. "It'll do," he concedes, and without so much of as a goodbye, he retreats back inside the building at a leisurely pace, apparently deeming their meeting concluded. "I trust that you both can show yourselves out," is the last comment, tossed over his shoulder as he's swallowed by the interior shadows.
"I'm going to kill him. Someday," Alex's voice is very low, very calm, and quite firm. ""When we don't need him anymore." He flexes one hand, as if contemplating the feel of Gabriel's windpipe crumpling in his grip.
Helena waves a hand. The moist air thickens into droplets of rain, and her plants will get something to drink tonight. "He can hear you." she says wryly. "Come on." And off they go, over the wall again.
As he follows her, Al says, amused, "I hope he can."
 October 6th: Damaged Goods |
 October 7th: Holding Hands |