It's a seat by the Observation Window and a glass of ice water this time. Sylar's not drinking it; he's pressing it to his forehead instead, leaning back in the booth with his eyes half shut ( Read more... )

There's a face that's not often seen in the bar; maybe because he's been elsewhere in full mope. Or maybe because he's trying to figure some things out. Or maybe he just didn't want to be here, and realized he didn't have to be if he didn't want to be ( Read more... )

Time has gone by. One can only tell with the Hiros is when one greets the other without too much enmity ( Read more... )

And there is the bartender ( Read more... )

[Earlier: There are still bad days.]

Damp-haired, Kaylee comes downstairs and settles in on the couch, feet tucked up under her, not quite engrossed in a book.

She got up a little early this morning, and she's a little tired. Makes it hard to concentrate on anything in particular at once.

Letting Dot take some extra time -- since she was late to her signed up shift -- Hiro Nakamura trades off with the Commander and is soon writing in somewhat childish English:

Specials
Anything with sake in it!And then he sits back with his book of cocktails ( Read more... )

Combat boots are all right. (Comfortable.) Pants -- tighter than usual, and kind of high-waisted, but okay. (Shows off the backside.) Brown shirt, open at the collar -- a little too crisp, but that will change given a few hours. (Not too much starch.) Suspenders -- not purple. (A disappointment ( Read more... )

"Oh, fuck you," is the filth that comes out of Hiro Nakamura's mouth. "This isn't me! Or my clothes ( Read more... )

Getting shot was bad enough; the recovery might just be worse. Can't sleep, can't use your left hand and arm hardly at all, can't do much of anything -- and what you can do is limited, considering you can't move much and your arm's in a sling all the time ( Read more... )

River has a bowl of wasabi peas, which she is eating very, very slowly. Mostly she's ignoring them ( Read more... )