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damned_institute2010-05-03 07:17 pm
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Day 49: Late Afternoon - Pearl's Beauty Salon Hair and Nails
Meche couldn't remember the last time she'd had her nails done, if ever--it definitely would have been a long while even before the last time she'd had nails. Today was turning into the day for those kinds of things, it seemed like.
The salon was only about a block from the bookstore, so luckily she managed to stay pretty dry on the run over. Meche closed the door firmly behind her and smiled at the woman who rushed from the back to meet her. "Hi, I'm meeting a friend here," she explained, and sat down in the nearest chair to wait.
[for Donna]
The salon was only about a block from the bookstore, so luckily she managed to stay pretty dry on the run over. Meche closed the door firmly behind her and smiled at the woman who rushed from the back to meet her. "Hi, I'm meeting a friend here," she explained, and sat down in the nearest chair to wait.
[for Donna]
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He arched one eyebrow when the man spoke next but gave no other sign. If someone wanted to steal something, he certainly wasn't going to stop them. "Just an irritating Prussian who thinks that it's nineteen forty-seven," he muttered sourly. To be honest, the history, or lack thereof, had left him rather shell shocked.
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"Really?" he asked mildly, glancing back to the nurse and slowly sliding a hand into his pocket. "I'm guessing... that you're not from 1947, then?"
Still, the Prussian comment struck him as a little weird, and maybe a little too... personal. The way he said it gave Sylar the impression that the man knew whoever he'd been talking to or maybe just had a grudge against the country in general. But really, Prussia? Sylar couldn't even remember where that was off the top of his head. Middle-East, maybe? Or was that Persia...
Whatever. What mattered now was the damn smuggling.
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"I'm from 2008," England replied with a shrug. "He's just an idiot." An idiot who insisted on hanging around despite no longer existing as a country. A little like England's brothers but they at least were still technically countries even if they answered to him for the most part.
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"Do me a favor?" he said under his breath, moving to pull the boot loose enough to come off. "Lemme know if that nurse starts looking this way."
Unless the guy was a real asshole, Sylar couldn't imagine any patient choosing a nurse over another prisoner. Except for Peter Petrelli, but he already knew he was a little bitch.
"I'm Gabriel, by the way," he added as an afterthought. He smiled grimly at his task. "Hope you don't mind me... multitasking."
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"Arthur," he replied absently. "And not at all. Stones in shoes are a pain to deal with," he added with a grin.