The warden said: Hey buddy, don't you be no square
Who: Sylar [fixesclocks] and anyone who wishes to visit him
When: Any time after the 2nd of November until stated otherwise.
Where: Jail~
Summary: Sylar is the calmest prisoner ever. Patience is a virtue, after all. If you'd like to visit him for whatever reason, do so here. Police officers, reporters, psychiatrists, lawyers, demons and victims, I think I made plans with all of you <3
Warnings: May be references to violence, gore and character death.
[Whatever your reasons, you're here alone with Sylar now. The private interrogation room is for visitors too, and Sylar is cuffed in one of the chairs, a silver observation screen facing him from the other side of the room, and an empty chair waiting for you. A complicated looking collar sits at his throat, voiding his abilities, and there are deep scratches on his skin where he's tried to pull it off to no avail.
His eyes are calculating but calm; deep, black holes that follow you from the moment you enter the room. Sylar sits with his hands in his lap, back curled forward so that he can look up at his visitor through his thick eyebrows.
He says nothing, does not even move. Escape is patience. Escape is observation, and he can wait for a very long time.]
When: Any time after the 2nd of November until stated otherwise.
Where: Jail~
Summary: Sylar is the calmest prisoner ever. Patience is a virtue, after all. If you'd like to visit him for whatever reason, do so here. Police officers, reporters, psychiatrists, lawyers, demons and victims, I think I made plans with all of you <3
Warnings: May be references to violence, gore and character death.
[Whatever your reasons, you're here alone with Sylar now. The private interrogation room is for visitors too, and Sylar is cuffed in one of the chairs, a silver observation screen facing him from the other side of the room, and an empty chair waiting for you. A complicated looking collar sits at his throat, voiding his abilities, and there are deep scratches on his skin where he's tried to pull it off to no avail.
His eyes are calculating but calm; deep, black holes that follow you from the moment you enter the room. Sylar sits with his hands in his lap, back curled forward so that he can look up at his visitor through his thick eyebrows.
He says nothing, does not even move. Escape is patience. Escape is observation, and he can wait for a very long time.]