'So finish it'? Was he really...? No, it couldn't be that easy. Could it?
Oh. And there he went. Of course it couldn't.
The chair was discarded with a simple step to the side, as he watched the thing soar past him with an arched brow, something resembling amusement crossing his features. Right. This was just getting insulting, by this point in time. That had kept him tied up for almost a week? He was slipping. Sylar took a few long seconds to stand there, looming in all of his height and his creepiness over the boy with an odd sort of pity.
"You're pathetic, Peter Petrelli," Sylar crooned with a frown, crossing an arm across his chest and tapping his free fingers against his chin, as though he were an art critic in a moment of scrutinizing a piece of work. "I couldn't do you the favor, sorry. But feel free to do so on your own part. I wouldn't stop you."
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Oh. And there he went. Of course it couldn't.
The chair was discarded with a simple step to the side, as he watched the thing soar past him with an arched brow, something resembling amusement crossing his features. Right. This was just getting insulting, by this point in time. That had kept him tied up for almost a week? He was slipping. Sylar took a few long seconds to stand there, looming in all of his height and his creepiness over the boy with an odd sort of pity.
"You're pathetic, Peter Petrelli," Sylar crooned with a frown, crossing an arm across his chest and tapping his free fingers against his chin, as though he were an art critic in a moment of scrutinizing a piece of work. "I couldn't do you the favor, sorry. But feel free to do so on your own part. I wouldn't stop you."