[RL] is anybody out there
[New York. Not his favorite place. Even less so when he had to ride the subway. Spike did his best to keep his head down and try not to think, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. Each shove of thronging New Yorkers made him a little number as he glanced down at the scrawled address over crumpled paper for the millionth time.
As he steps out onto the street, the Sun's almost down. Keeping his eyes on his boots, he pushes hands with chipping nail polish into his duster pockets, trying not to feel the last of its warmth on his face. He couldn't feel more out of place as he's looking up the nose of Petrelli Manor, keeping his eyes out for Peter. Steeling himself, he steps up on the lawn, half-expecting an aerial attack. Or maybe one from the side.]
As he steps out onto the street, the Sun's almost down. Keeping his eyes on his boots, he pushes hands with chipping nail polish into his duster pockets, trying not to feel the last of its warmth on his face. He couldn't feel more out of place as he's looking up the nose of Petrelli Manor, keeping his eyes out for Peter. Steeling himself, he steps up on the lawn, half-expecting an aerial attack. Or maybe one from the side.]