Why was he getting detention? He was the victim here! ...And, for once, that was true. Totally true. Forgiving the part where he'd... kind of snapped her neck. But for serious. Rachel had been the one to bust in. Rachel had been the one to throw the first punch. She'd instigated! She'd stabbed him with machetes! She'd stolen things! It was all-over a mess! For all interests into turning his train of thought into a fourth grader's: She started it!
She'd best be getting a detention as well. Things wouldn't be ending well if he was being the only one punished here. Particularly with the still-cracked ribs. And the limp, due to a machete blade clean through his thigh. Aaaand and inability to raise his arm above mid-chest level, because of another through the shoulder. It was a fun time. No, really, everyone fight your own Rachel Morgan. It ends with much blood. Plenty of it. Even pissing it out, thanks to kidney shots. It was another thing, bruising all up his left flank, from where she'd punched him - and hard, he hadn't even had room to block that one - and... Sylar was not in pretty shape.
He'd survived samurai swords through the gut! He could take this!
Nevertheless, here he was. Showing up for detention. Decidedly not looking any inch the happy camper, hunched over a bit, hands shoved into the pockets of a ratty black hoodie and jeans. His default outfit, really, and the closest thing he got to 'clothes for work'. "Is SHE coming too?" he spat, a bit too grouchily to be greeting, as he was making his way into the Hospital Wing, six o'clock on the nose. As if he had the capacity to be late.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-09-08 08:40 pm (UTC)Why was he getting detention? He was the victim here! ...And, for once, that was true. Totally true. Forgiving the part where he'd... kind of snapped her neck. But for serious. Rachel had been the one to bust in. Rachel had been the one to throw the first punch. She'd instigated! She'd stabbed him with machetes! She'd stolen things! It was all-over a mess! For all interests into turning his train of thought into a fourth grader's: She started it!
She'd best be getting a detention as well. Things wouldn't be ending well if he was being the only one punished here. Particularly with the still-cracked ribs. And the limp, due to a machete blade clean through his thigh. Aaaand and inability to raise his arm above mid-chest level, because of another through the shoulder. It was a fun time. No, really, everyone fight your own Rachel Morgan. It ends with much blood. Plenty of it. Even pissing it out, thanks to kidney shots. It was another thing, bruising all up his left flank, from where she'd punched him - and hard, he hadn't even had room to block that one - and... Sylar was not in pretty shape.
He'd survived samurai swords through the gut! He could take this!
Nevertheless, here he was. Showing up for detention. Decidedly not looking any inch the happy camper, hunched over a bit, hands shoved into the pockets of a ratty black hoodie and jeans. His default outfit, really, and the closest thing he got to 'clothes for work'. "Is SHE coming too?" he spat, a bit too grouchily to be greeting, as he was making his way into the Hospital Wing, six o'clock on the nose. As if he had the capacity to be late.