Damaged Goods


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Scene Title Damaged Goods
Synopsis In the center of a devastated New York City, Eve is approached about a bargain.
Date October 6, 2008

Ruins of Midtown

Standing in the ruins of Midtown, it's hard to believe New York is still a living city.

There's life enough around the fringes — the stubborn, who refused to rebuild somewhere else; the hopeful, who believe the radiation is gone, or that they somehow won't be affected. Businesses, apartment complexes, taxis and bicycles and subways going to and fro — life goes on. Perhaps more quietly than in other parts of the city, shadowed by the reminder that even a city can die, but it does go on.

Then there is the waste. The empty core for which the living city is only a distant memory. Though a few major thoroughfares wind through the ruins, arteries linking the surviving halves, and the forms of some truly desperate souls can occasionally be glimpsed skulking in the shadows, the loudest noise here is of the wind whistling through the mangled remnants of buildings. Twisted cords of rebar reach out from shattered concrete; piles of masonry and warped metal huddle on the ground, broken and forlorn. Short stretches of road peek out from under rubble and dust only to disappear again shortly afterwards, dotted with the mangled and contorted forms of rusting cars, their windows long since shattered into glittering dust.

There are no bodies — not even pieces, not anymore. Just the bits and pieces of destroyed lives: ragged streamers fluttering from the handlebar which juts out of a pile of debris; a flowerbox turned on its side, coated by brick dust, dry sticks still clinging to the packed dirt inside; a lawn chair, its aluminum frame twisted but still recognizable, leaning against a flight of stairs climbing to nowhere.

At the center of this broken wasteland lies nothing at all. A hollow scooped out of the earth, just over half a mile across, coated in a thick layer of dust and ash. Nothing lives here. Not a bird; not a plant. Nothing stands here. Not one concrete block atop another. There is only a scar in the earth, cauterized by atomic fire. This is Death's ground.

The sun is just beginning to set as Eve walks around the Ruins, a place she has been coming to often lately. With her dark red backless dress rustling as she walks and her black boots making light tapping noises, Eve climbs up a pile of rubble and sits down on it. Her face turned up towards the sky. Her light-colored eyes focusing on the horizon, watching for the moon. Hair falls into her face and she brushes it aside gently.

It's amazing how the world can just slide things together perfectly. It doesn't take too much following for Eve to situate herself somewhere suitably empty and desolate, Sylar's patience paying off. He allows the sound of his booted feet crunching through rubble to go heard as he approaches her, hands in his pockets as if he were merely going for a walk as he tosses a casual glance around ground zero. "Do you know how hot this place was straight after the bomb?" he asks her, around the time he allows his foot steps to be heard. "It was unbearable."

"How did you survive then?" Eve asks as she turns around eyes slightly wider, knowing that voice anywhere. "Hello Sylar" she says in greeting and cants her head at him, "You are a strange one, mystery that I haven't been able to solve… yet" her light-colored eyes staring intensely at the man. "Helena is really upset that I didn't shoot you, but I told her it wouldn't have worked. Seeing as you could just stop the bullet"

"Tell Helena that if she wants me shot down, she can get her own hands dirty," Sylar says with a sneer, coming to a halt. A black trenchcoat is probably more than typical attire, but it's what he's wearing, covering up his clothes against the chill of the evening. "Don't worry, Eve, you did the smart thing. I can stop more than a bullet." A slight head tilt, as if to imply that that's exactly how he survived the nuclear blast that created the scar they're standing upon.

Eve nods faintly and turns back to look at the sky, "If only I wasn't trying to keep the peace in our little group" she says and then looks back to Sylar. "I thought after the dream/vision I had of you that I would be scared, but oddly I'm not" this seems to amaze Eve. "Are you going to kill me now? I doubt you will, you could have already. So why have you been following me Mr??" she raises an eyebrow and tilts her head, "Sylar is your real name?"

Perhaps it's not a good idea to remind Sylar about how he could easily kill and take the abilities of those he's talking with. His jaw clenches for a moment, as if fighting back some sort of temptation, or more accurately, a hunger. But it passes, for now. "Sylar is my name," he says, with a flicker of a smile. "I don't need you scared, or dead. I wanted to bring up the matter of damaged goods."

"That's good to know" Eve says in a quiet voice and smirks at the man. "What's this about damaged goods, sir?" her eyes alight with excitement, something about talking with Sylar, a noted serial killer intrigues her. "Are we speaking of Peter or something else?"

A much deeper smirk twists his mouth when she identifies the subject correctly. "Peter," he confirms, and moves to pace - more circle around Eve, still keeping his distance, only just close enough so that their voices can carry properly. "What does your little A-team know about what the Company have done to him?"

"Hmm and why would you want to know dear Sylar? I don't know if I should be telling you that" she grins at the man and tilts her head, why does he want to know? She licks her lips and blinks. "We know enough, if that's what you are asking"

"So much for working together," Sylar says, voice lowering just a fraction. "I came to share information. Something has happened to Peter and he's picked a new side. More so, he doesn't even recognise Helena's face when I decided to wear it. Tell me if he's working for them." It's not a request, it's a demand.

"Ah, ah ah. Don't be so damn rude about it" Eve's facial expression grows hard for a moment but she soon relaxes. "We know he is mind-wiped and he doesn't remember us. Also that he is working for the Company. Does that make you angry?" Eve's face is vacant of emotion presently and she then looks away again to the sky. "I'm worried that they will use him against us all" she admits.

"They will," Sylar says, keeping his eyes trained on her while she regards the sky. "They have themselves a very, very shiny new toy, and the Company doesn't let go of their toys so easily. But they're not keeping him in a box this time… just on a short leash." Or at least, they were during his encounter. There's a crunch of gravel as he starts to approach her. "What're you all gonna do about it, Eve?"

Eve shrugs, "Getting him back isn't of high priority. For Helena and Claire it is, but right now we need to regroup. So it might be awhile until we attempt to bring Peter back to us" Eve looks perplexed for a moment but doesn't say anything. "If the Company puts a good fight for him, then he must be pretty important to them. What did cause that bomb by the way?"

"If Helena and Claire want him back," Sylar says, smoothly, "then tell them something for me. Tell them that they had better come calling soon, because I'm becoming less and less enthused about the idea of risking my own neck for something that's already been broken." He comes to a halt a few feet away. "But believe me, Eve, removing Peter from the Company should be your group's only priority. You want to know what caused that bomb?" He spreads his arms, turning his body just a little so that he can gesture to the destruction around them. "The bomb is now in the hands of your enemies."

Eve's eyes widen and she shakes her head, "Why didn't he ever tell us?" she mutters to herself and then looks back to Sylar, putting that little piece of information in the back of her head for now. "And what do you get out of this dearie?" Eve's voice taking on a lighter tone. Obvious in a teasing manner. Eve is crazy? much?

"Claire knew," Sylar says, simply. "Helena knew." He's going to allow Eve to do what she wishes with that additional information, but a slight, almost mocking raise of one thick eyebrow has enough implication. The word 'dearie' doesn't gain too much of a reaction from Sylar, but by the way he pauses for a moment, simply looking at her, implies that it's yet another small crack made in his self-control. Just a small one, but it all adds up eventually, doesn't it? "Let's just say that I'm laying the groundwork," he says with a sneer. "Not to mention that if there is anyone who doesn't deserve to have the last two years or however long simply erased from memory… it's Peter Petrelli. He did this, after all." There has to be more to it than that, but Sylar isn't telling.

"So you want Peter to suffer is that it?" she doesn't even respond to Claire and Helena knowing about Peter, that's to be expected. Eve cants her head and then slides down from the rubble and is now close to Sylar facing him. "I don't just buy that. Something is going on. Not just that you want Adam Monroe for his ability, but something deeper. You haven't been perfectly honest with me have you? What's your secret Sylar?" her eyes study the killer. He doesn't scare her much. Not anymore.

"Peter and I are two of a kind," Sylar states, but doesn't elaborate. "Eve, don't be rude, I've been very honest with you. All you need to know is that I can hand you Peter on a platter, broken or not, but time is running out." He smiles, now, almost suddenly, wolfishly, leaning in closer. "I don't play well with others and my exception does have an expiration date. Believe me when I say you won't want me as an enemy. None of you do. Think about it." He starts backing up as he makes his conclusion.

"Noted" Eve smiles right back at Sylar and brushes hair from her face. "I didn't mean to be rude" she says and places her hands on her hips. "I'll let them know. And since you like to stalk people. I'm sure you will come and talk to me again before time runs out" Her heels tap as she slowly backs away to exit. "Nice talking to you Sylar, can't wait for the next 'chat'" she says sarcastically and leaves the area, heels tapping lightly on the broken pavement.

"I'm always there, Eve," Sylar 'assures' her, as he turns as well to walk away. The smile he puts on now is secret. "I can't hardly wait either." And between broken buildings and rubble, he disappears once more into the shadows to emerge again another day, as only the best cockroaches can.

October 6th: It's Only a Flesh Wound
October 6th: A Sylar on the Roof
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