(Untitled)

[persian_sass]

For some time, he'd been anticipating the date with no small amount of trepidation. Now that it was here, though, Sasan was rather pleased to find out that Day #366 of his island stay was really not that much different from all the rest of them. For a given value of the word 'pleased,' anyway. He woke up, had a light breakfast and a short run,

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[usethecompany]

"Oh dear," Archie said, more in sympathy to the man's reaction than having been bothered. He'd heard and seen how awful the thing could be at times, though it was nothing but helpful to Archie.

The bookshelf had given him the book of Shakespeare he was currently reading, after all.

"Is this yours?" he asked, picking the flimsy magazine up. When he read the cover, he frowned. He would never understand the future need to pry in everyone's fortune - miracle child or not.

[persian_sass]

The shock was at least slightly easier to shake off a second time and Sasan only took a moment longer than usual to reply. "Uh, yes. The magazine, yes. The baby, no." The Tori, yes, and what the hell was she thinking?

"I don't think I really want it anymore, though," he added, clearly agitated as he tried to take it all in.

[usethecompany]

"I don't suppose I'd want it either," Archie commented, having taken another proper look at the cover. "Is this really what magazines are like, in the future? Prying into everyone's private lives for the public to see?"

Of all the fascinating things Archie had learned about in his time here, he'd stumbled upon a few he found more distasteful than others.

[persian_sass]

"Well, the interesting ones, at least," Sasan said automatically, not registering the guy's disapproval until afterward. Mostly it just confused him, though. Of all the many, many things horribly wrong with that magazine, the invasion of privacy angle is what he latches on to? Really?

"95% of those people are in there because they want to be, anyway," he explained with a dismissive wave of his hand. And that certainly included Tori. Her and her litter.

Only then did he notice that he hadn't blinked at that comment about magazines in the future, clearly not referring to a few seasons' difference. God, he really had been stuck here for too long.

[countyourteeth]

Daphne's arms were loaded with books; she was returning some of the more questionable offerings that the shelf had given her the week before. Because of this, she didn't immediately notice who had thrown the magazine. Sighing, she dropped her pile on a nearby table before she dropped to a crouch and picked up the magazine that she'd nearly slipped on. Holding it out, she said, "This yo--"

The question died on her lips. Her eyes widened in shock. There, standing less than twenty feet away, was Sylar. Instinct immediately kicked in. Even without her powers, Daphne was in the running for fastest person on mystery island. In no time at all, she'd charged towards Sylar, her hand flying for his throat as she shoved him up against the bookshelf.

"You bastard."

[persian_sass]

In retrospect, it was almost surprising that he'd managed to go an entire year without being attacked. He should have been ready for something like this. However, given that it had been some time now since he'd been mistaken for that Sylar jackass and his mind was still reeling from certain horrifying revelations about T anyway, reasonable explanations for why a stranger would just rush him weren't forthcoming. As far as Sasan was concerned, this was a random act of violence.

"Oh God, please try not to leave marks," he managed to croak out, shoving his arms out roughly to try to get whatever that yellow blur was away from him. He certainly wasn't out of shape, but she was tenacious.

He'd been stuck here for a year, Tori was out there somewhere popping out babies left and right, and now he was getting throttled by a sadistic blonde who looked tinier than Kylie Minogue.

Life wasn't fair.

[countyourteeth]

"You're going to ask me not to leave marks?" she asked with a bitter laugh. Her mouth stretched into a wide, sarcastic grin. Then, as if to prove a point, she curved her fingers so that her nails dug into his skin. "I don't think so."

[persian_sass]

"Urk," he said, breath catching in his throat.

He was going to die. That was clearly all there was to it. He was going to die in this damn rec room, on this damn island, with Tori's damn miracle baby staring up at him from the floor.

Her words sparked a tiny bit of recognition that he would probably know what this was all about if he thought about it, but at the moment his thoughts were a bit too preoccupied with what the hell?! to bother with that. Instead he instinctively pushed back off the bookshelf to slam himself into the woman.

Never mind that this naturally drove her nails (which, from the feel of things, were a set of some sort of freaky Bai Ling claws) directly into his neck, she was like four feet tall. If he didn't have size going for him, what did he have?

[poison_pearl]

There is often some displeasure at the bookshelf, but this is a level to which it does not often ascend, and when a rejected item lands at my feet, I cannot help but take note.

It is, I note as I pick it up, quite clearly trash, although the printing material may be worthy of note, more modern than what I am used to.

"Miracle babies offend you?" I inquire, arching an eyebrow at the cover.

[persian_sass]

Looking up in stunned confusion, it took Sasan a second to find the right words. "That one does, at least."

Alright, maybe not even quite the right words, per se.

Oh God, how was Kiki going to handle being a grandmother, especially without him around for support? It was a worrying thought for at least eight separate reasons that he could think of off the top of his head.

[poison_pearl]

"And what is it, pray tell," I ask, shuffling idly through the pages and seeing nothing of consequence to stop upon and read, "about this particular miracle baby that offends? Is it the miracle, or the baby?"

[persian_sass]

"The mother," Sasan said immediately, since he didn't know much more than she did about the miracle or the baby themselves. At least the shock was wearing off a little quicker the second time around.

"She's sort of a friend."