The Bunny pokes him again. It's fun to prod people. "Hey, nerd boy, what the fisk you doin'?" Then he gets a good thought, and hops closer, seeing if the body happens to have any suspicious bulges, that might be wallets.
An approximation of what is running through this particular Sylar's head right now: oh no, not again.
Many philosophers have speculated that if we knew precisely why Sylar thought this, we should know a great deal more about the workings of the universe than we do now.
It's thought rather angrily.
The stick snaps, very abruptly, because Sylars do not enjoy being poked with them. Then Sylar looks up and sees the Bunny.
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Not expecting duplicate.
Expecting unconscious duplicate less.
Descending rapidly.
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Damn.
*nudge*
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Sylar, for the record, landed face-down and none-too-comfortably. He shifts a little.
"gngtokilly'"
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With a stick.
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"Grrrflngh," Sylar tells the ground.
Give him a moment. His brain just got biokinetically bitchslapped.
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Many philosophers have speculated that if we knew precisely why Sylar thought this, we should know a great deal more about the workings of the universe than we do now.
It's thought rather angrily.
The stick snaps, very abruptly, because Sylars do not enjoy being poked with them. Then Sylar looks up and sees the Bunny.
"...you've got to be joking."
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