Date: 2007-07-13 02:49 pm (UTC)
Ballsy. No, really. Sylar was almost impressed.

"What's that?" he asked in a cautious sort of voice, eyebrows raising in something that almost resembled intrigue. "Someone's developing a back bone." The idea of... It brought back memories of Primatech, being locked inside that damned cell for days (felt like years) on end, lack of food, drugs pumping through his system... Even Sylar would admit that the threats were a little unnerving. ...Aww. His little Peter was growing up.

But still stupid. "Growing a back bone and forgetting the little tiny detail of: 'magic school'," he added in a snipe, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the other man. "You can't win, Peter." Not that Sylar could win either, not here, at any rate, but that was totally beside the point right now. "But I'd like to see you try."

And then, of course, each and every last splinter from the chair started hurtling in towards Peter.
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