maskormenace | video.

[ Peter's had enough. He's tired of trailing after the shadows of Sylar like it'll get him anywhere and he's done this already. It got old the first time he got shoved off a rooftop. It got even older the... second? time he helped kill Sylar. And now? He's just over it. Long past over it. And he's not going to apologize for his behavior.

Which is why he's now taking a page out of Claire's handbook. Especially since he's figured a certain something out.

... Peter's seated plainly at a table, a rather large kitchen knife laying in front of him. You know, one of those you see running rampant in horror movies. ]

Hey, Sylar.

[ He smiles plainly, picks up said knife and waves it in front of the comm, his other hand resting palm side down on the table. ] You paying attention?

[ A second later, no hesitation, he slams it into the back of his hand, barely managing a flinch in the process. Though he doesn't look particularly comfortable when he goes about twisting it around. For. Y'know. Posterity's sake. Keeping Sylar's interest is important, here. Another few seconds and he pulls it back out, tossing the knife to clatter on the table. Shoving his palm into the screen of the comm device, it only takes a second or two for the wound to begin healing, knitting itself together until it's gone completely, leaving behind tracks of blood.

Wiping his hand off on his jeans, he looks rather expectantly at his comm, completely blase. ] So. Interested in talking yet? Or do I still have to come find you.