It's amazing, how time can seem to stretch on forever. To never end. How did each second become an hour? I imagine this is what it's like to die. Maybe worse, because there's no end.
I can't feel it anymore. I can't hear it.
[Private to Cissie]
Don't leave.
[Private to Dick]
Do you hate me? Think I'm a monster?
[ooc; Sylar's chilling in level
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Comments 136
[He's got a touch of the crazy, thanks to more than one psychic source around being not-in-their-right-mind. It'll go away soon, though, but his speech is a bit drifty.]
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So are we going to talk about this?
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[Sylar's been staring ahead toward the wall/empty cell, not talking to Tim for the vast majority of the time.]
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[Sylar's tone came with a slight growl and there was very clear impatience and distraction in his tone. His ability to focus and to think is severely diminished without any of his abilities at all, down in this little Hell hole.]
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[Which really just means "I don't want to talk about it", but you know.]
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Why?
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Because everyone makes mistakes.
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It's worse. At least here you have yourself. Being "trapped with your own thoughts" is nothing to being trapped without them. You are nothing. You can't even be horrified about it - Nothing can't feel horror.
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