(Untitled)

[notenlightened]

Reese is in the Conrad common room. There's a book resting open in her lap, but she hasn't turned a page in the last twenty minutes. She's deep in thought - mostly about this situation she seems to have gotten herself in with Crews, but also, also inconveniently, her thoughts are drifting to what her father might say if he knew about this entire

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[crashiscoming]

Scout does not understand the concept of steering clear of someone. Ever. She does what she wants, whenever she wants. And today she wants to talk to the smirking man.

Okay, mostly she wants to run up to him and headbutt him in the arm, then grin up at him. "Teeth!" she shouts.

[technicallykill]

And Sylar - well, he can't say he didn't sense her coming, but the headbutt certainly gives him room for pause.

"Can I help you with something," he murmurs, but it's not really a question, and the look on his face is far from helpful.

[crashiscoming]

"Help help no help, no help for this onnnne put 'er down put 'er down." She giggles a little. "HELP, though. Help fix find force. None of the above. KILL, though. Kill. Can help, yeah?"

Maybe Scout has crazy killer radar? Or something.

[technicallykill]

Great. He's got a legitimate crazy here on his hands. There's a moment when just dispatching her here and now becomes a very prominent thought - but, really, that would almost be too simple.

"You want to help," he says, fairly certain he's got the jist of what she's trying to say. "And how, exactly, would you do that?"