Thread: Heroes: Emergent (IC)

- 4AM in New York City, NY, that same day Nathan Petrelli was buttoning his cuffs as his 'mother', Angela Petrelli went over his day's schedule with his secretary. He had grown his beard and was looking in the mirror. Was this how he was meant to be? Older, wiser, but... Gabriel Grey, also known as Skylar, had accepted his position living in this body... assuming this role, but he hungered for more. He wanted to know how things worked. Why they worked. Not to be some new nation's puppet president. You should be running the Company, he chided Angela. I have plenty of nursemaids here to keep me in line. He eyed his secretary, a sexy blond woman who was no older than thirty and smiled to himself. Then he nodded as the secretary finished out his schedule and excused herself. Once she was gone Nathan turned to his mother. Besides, you need to find all of the others, don't you? She pressed her lips together and then reached up to straighten out his collar like a meddling mother hen. This is more important, Natha - He stopped her, grabbing her wrist harshly with his left hand. Finding the others is more important, Angela . I want to know who else is out there. That's your job, not this. Mrs. Petrelli looked at Nathan's eyes and for a moment she didn't recognize him. Natey, you're not left handed. I'm not Nathan. His jaw grew tense. He jerked away from her and then walked over to his full - length mirror to give himself a once-over. Now... go do your job. Find others. Recruit them. If they won't come willingly, then convince them. Or capture them. I don't care, really. Just bring them in. You have offices all over the world, 'mother'. It should be an easy task. He ignored her and looked at himself in the mirror. With a self-satisfied smile he turned towards the door. Now... I have a phone conference with the minister of Japan before their business day closes. He walked out of the room, leaving behind a very shaken woman. This was not the Nathan that she had planned on resurrecting. She could see the last decade of work slowly circling the drain. --- 9AM, London, England Mr. Thompson was every bit the degenerate his cases thought he was. Problem was, at least for them, that he was on 'this' side of the law, and they were the twerps who had screwed up and ended in the orange. He poked his tongue against his cheek as he eyed pretty little Beatrix. She was kind of a doll. It didn't hurt that her name reminded him of his favorite Harry Potter character. Gods! If he could get his hands on that sexy, crazy, Helena Bonham Carter, he'd... He felt his trousers tent up and groaned inwardly. Great. Just what he needed, a woody that the girls would snicker over. He leaned over to the loudspeaker mic and turned it on. Beatrix. Beatrix Davies, report to Mr. Thompson immediately. Beatrix, come see me right away. He clicked off the microphone and leaned back in his chair, touching his hard shaft through his pants as he waited. If he could get that girl on her knees under his desk the things he would do! He ached to pop her sassy cherry. Not that he thought that she was a virgin, but he was convinced that she never had someone as wide across as him. Like his physical stature, his cock was short and stout. Very stout. He smiled to himself and waited. What would he have that bitch do today? Scrub out the latrines? No... she's done that too many times. Scrub out the deep fryers? Or... maybe he'd have her mop the dining hall floor with a towel? Pick up dog poop in the park? His eyes closed slightly. He wanted to have her do all kinds of nasty, naughty things, illegal things, but he couldn't risk losing his job. But if he could, her tasks would begin with her mouth wrapped around his girth and end with her on her hands and knees as he made her yelp like a dog in heat. Thompson smiled and waited. He could always fantasize about the girls. No one could fire him for that.