For the Birds



Scene Title For the Birds
Synopsis Munin comes to a startling realization.
Date November 14, 2008

Condemned Tenement: Abandoned Apartment

It occurs to her sometime in the early hours of the morning when the sky is still pink and the pigeons are just beginning to rouse outside the window. Feathers rustle as wings are stretched, dozens of tiny feet scraping against the roost's concrete perch — she can see them through the glass, warped by the rain though it is, their shapes sleek and silver, glinting like sun-dappled water in the pale glow of dawn.

They aren't her birds anymore.

She reaches out to them with her mind from the other side of the window and places her naked palms upon the glass. Her lips part, mouth barely open, no sound coming out, for she does not need a voice to speak. Words pass through the pane in the form of images and simple thoughts all sound and colour, but if they could be translated into human tongue they might sound something like the sentences she now mouths to reaffirm the questions she wants to ask.

Who is he?

When did you start feeling him too?

She's immediately reminded why pigeons are difficult to deal with. They answer all at once, no two minds completely alike but ultimately so similar that she's overwhelmed by the sheer volume of thoughts spilling back into her head. Pressure builds, swells at the front of her skull, and her hands fly to her face, fingers squeezing together over the bridge of her nose in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

He is a man.

Dark man.

Loud man.

Alone man.

Dark man told us to go away.

Loud, loud, loud.

We will go see the alone man.

Dark man not hard to find.

Loud, loud, loud.

What Sylar said to her two nights ago springs to the front of her mind with startling clarity. What if Kazimir found somebody who took abilities just by standing next to them? All of a sudden, his irrational fear of Peter Petrelli isn't so irrational anymore.

It's another few minutes before the implication of her discovery sinks in, and so too does she sink, down to the floor and onto her knees, pale face buried in her hands. There are no tears, no heaving shoulders or shuddering breaths. Instead, she maintains her composure, breathing steadily and slowly through her fingers, fascinated by how cold her lips are, and by how much more astringent the air is when her cheeks are slick with perspiration from the window. The pigeons, as always, fail to sense that anything is amiss and are gone before the sun has fully crested the titan skyscrapers standing in the distance.

Two minds, both separate and apart, joined together by the city of birds between them. If she were to reach out, to seek — he would hear. Maybe not immediately, but eventually, and then he might find her.

Kill her.

It isn't the first time Munin has been afraid of someone using her own ability against her. The only difference between then and now is what separates possibility from reality, and she dares not sit and dwell.

For once, she's glad she has no belongings to pack.

November 13th: Pop
November 14th: Schroedinger's Cat
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