At the moment when our paths last separated, you may recall that I, a mere mortal of this Earth, a denizen of its ordinary unsplendor, obtained superhuman powers beyond anything you could imagine. However, just as Oedipus’s ascension to the thrown, there were grave, eye-gouging consequences. Certainly I may still have the eyes in my head, but those who witnessed me, the abomination that had become me, most assuredly desired no lesser fate than the one Oedipus delivered upon himself.
I was indeed hideous. Kirstie Alley would have been a welcome sight for those unfortunate souls gazing upon my scaly excuse for a body.
Thankfully, however, it was not my destiny to forever stay a monster. In fact, just as I had first postulated, my destiny lied in trapping unsuspecting females in my web of manly allure. Countless years spent as a geneticist/taxi driver hindered my romantic endeavors. But the new, improved me, rendered far more perfect in every which manner, is definitely an object to be desired.
Desired, perhaps, a bit too much.
I soon found myself the proprietary property of a clandestine governmental organization, led, mysteriously-so, by the mysterious man in horn-rimmed glasses known as Noah Bennet.
Yet is it my destiny, is it God the Cockroach’s will, that I be detained and locked away for eternity, to allow such an ingenious encephalon to waste away inside my unconscious skull in the bowels of an arbitrarily numbered building?
Apparently it is not. Hiro Nakamura saved me from such an ill-fated destiny.
As my fate reversed, another’s came to a fiery end.
It seems now destiny has brought me an overflow of unused time, spare instances to be done with as deemed fit by me. With Sylar dead and the US government no longer intent on incarcerating me, what am I to do? Dare I go back into the shadows of my father’s research, toiling away for hours without concern for my own desires? Is the life of a learned scholar my destiny once again? Or is it that of a self-absorbed playboy, flaunting my exotic charm and newly-acquired pectorals at Honduran harpies?
Or perhaps my fate lies elsewhere even still? Perhaps I have a destiny in this very cyber-reality in which you’re now reading this?
I only recently joined the fast-growing craze known as “Twitter”. In all my years spent researching genetics, studying at posh Indian universities, driving New Yorkers around in taxis and watching MTV, not ever have I come across a bigger time-waster. And is it coincidence, or perhaps something greater, that I now have an abundance of that very resource which to squander frivolously?
@hornedrims ur glasses LOL!!
Yes indeed Mo, we are all Marshmallows in the SexySylar bonfire of life.
That sounds like a hairier situation than Kristie Alleys eyebrows.
Ewwww. Scabs… I bet even Sylar wouldn't want to touch those.
Speaking of which, I may need a ride to the airport soon.
OK, I all I see is big words. I guess I will become one of your tweeps.