Thread: Heroes: Emergent (New York City, 2020)

Day One. 4AM in New York City, NY - Spring. 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. --- 3PM, New York City Angela Petrelli lounged in her chair, watching the way her youngest son paced back and forth in the lush, penthouse office they shared. You really must stop fighting it Peter. We need more help, and she's been selected as the most likely to benefit the company. Peter looked up from the file he was reading. He stopped in his tracks and considered his mother. It's always about the company, Mother. This is what we were trying to avoid. Don't you remember how it was before the war? We're going right back to everything that we fought against. It's for the best. She paused to take a sip of the white wine that she was holding in her hands. It was always wine time for Angela. She had to dull the conflicting images and thoughts that seemed to come more and more unbidden in her mind. Just... just do it, okay Petey? Why? Because he says to? He's your brother. He's NOT my brother. He's unstable. This whole idea of yours... it's falling apart! He slammed the file onto the table and a picture of a beautiful blond woman in a black tennis dress slid out. I can feel this like a noose around my neck, Mother. This is going to get us all killed. Angela sighed. You have a plane seat booked, Peter. I expect you to make contact with her by noon tomorrow. She set her glass down. This is very important. Just do it for me. Peter shook his head, his hands on his slim hips. I want you to remember that I was against this from the start, he said to her. He picked up the file again and looked at it. Elizabeth Gordon. Alright. I'll do it, but if she says 'no' then that's it. Let her go. People deserve to have their own lives. Of course, Peter. Angela smiled as her son left the room. Then she shook her head. Naive boy.