Day 49: Late Afternoon - Pearl's Beauty Salon Hair and Nails

[sheisthecause.livejournal.com]

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]

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[teabastard.livejournal.com]

England smirked without much humour and nodded, noting the slight shift in the man's demeanor. "God for bid we get an umbrella. Why, we might hurt someone with it!" he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he finished toweling himself off. Still sodden, the t-shirt sticking to his skin unpleasantly and ugh, the shoes.

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.

[darwinism]

Sylar couldn't help but smirk and raise a brow at the man's random comment about a "Prussian." That was... some old country, right? If Sylar recognized it, there was a good chance the guy was from Earth, although his surprise at the time difference probably meant that he hadn't been dropped off here all that long ago. Good thing – it was always nice to meet someone new, especially when Sylar needed to keep them occupied long enough to shield him from some nurse's suspicion.

"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.

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

England raised an eyebrow at the exaggeratedly slow movements but made no attempt to move away. Even if it was a threat, and he drew a gun or a knife, what was there to worry about? For England anyway. He didn't like the chances of the man escaping unscathed. It would be kind of entertaining to watch to be honest, except not because laughing at someone else's suffering was out of fashion now wasn't it? Yes, he had to be media friendly and active in international relations that unfortunately no longer included punching people in the face. Even if they were (probably) American.

"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.

[darwinism]

2008? Must've been the Prussian-hater thing, then. Unless the guy he was talking about was really old during his time, but Sylar wasn't about to divide his attention with that when– when all the nurses finally seemed busy with something or other. Sylar glanced over to the guy, then moved to crouch down, as if tying his shoe.

"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."

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

England regarded him curiously as he ducked. Hiding something? Ah well, that made sense if there were things in town that one couldn't get in the Institute which seemed rather likely. He nodded, shifting position a little so that he could see the nurses better and act as a better block for whatever this man wanted to do.

"Arthur," he replied absently. "And not at all. Stones in shoes are a pain to deal with," he added with a grin.