2007-04-24: Don't Tase Me, Girlfriend


Elle_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: Elle stops by Peter's apartment to ask him a few questions, and electrocute him in new and exciting ways!

Date It Happened: April 24th, 2007

Don't Tase Me, Girlfriend

Peter Petrelli's Apartment

In the front room of his apartment, Peter sits alone, with the laptop computer that he rarely uses open, and a picture displayed on the monitor. Familiar by now, though he hasn't yet shown it to Jane. Intends to when she gets back, at least the smaller version of it, without the familiar face. A untouched drink sits on the desk next to him, and the timid puppy who's only had one walk today sits on the wood floor, still upset by the mood of her master. Whether or not he absorbed Lachlan's ability, the vibes of an owner can have a profound effect on a young animal. And that would definitely be the case now.

It's not hard for someone with access to the Company's resources to find the name and address for a given phone. And so Elle Bishop is out and about, to see what the hell is going on. The fact that it's coming from someone NOT EVEN AFFILIATED with the Company has given her even more of a curious take on it. She moves up to the front door of the apartment, looking and listening to see if she can get any sense of whether someone is conscious and home.

The apartment itself is moderately quiet. No sound of music playing at the moment, or a television playing. But the puppy on the floor suddenly sits up, as if she hears something, ears perking. Not quite a bark, but there's a sound, like a loud breathing cough, a hint of a yip of a small dog. "You shouldn't need to go on a walk yet," Peter says softly, voice sad still, but he closes the laptop, turning off the monitor, if not the computer. Since the puppy isn't trained yet, he needs to take any cues he's given to heart… Standing up, he goes to fetch the leash and comes back to hook it onto her collar. Though she's not jumping around and her tail isn't wagging, her ears are definitely perkier.

Elle frowns. Dog. Wonderful. She moves to the side, looking around to see how exposed the front of this apartment is. She needs to get some sense for how restrained she needs to be.

Not too exposed, really. There's a window at the end of the hallway near the door. The elevator and stares are around a corner. In all, it's probably the most secure door on the whole floor… As long as any neighbors stay inside. The door in question though, answers. A man with short hair dark hair steps outside, with a tiny white ball of fluff on a leash peeking out nearby. The puppy notices the blonde first, tail starting to wag.

So much for time. She'll have to shock now and ask questions later. The blonde cuts loose with a blue beam, this one pitched to act as a taser rather than to just cook her target.

GAME: Elle has rolled DON'T TASE ME BRO and got a result of GREAT.
GAME: Peter has rolled DEXTERITY and got a result of MEDIOCRE.
GAME: Peter has rolled STAMINA and got a result of MEDIOCRE.

The man glances over to see her just as she tosses the taser blast at him, but the only thing he can really manage to do… is drop the leash. The puppy yelps, running back inside the apartment to whine, as Peter takes the blast full on and falls over, very much unconscious.

Elle mutters. "Wonderful. Now I gotta drag your ass inside. CAN'T make it easy, oh, no." She moves over, then grabs Peter's arms and starts to haul him inside the door. Hauling isn't Elle's forte.

Very fortunate that her boyfriend lacks muscle mass, now, isn't it? And not too tall. Sure, weights more than her by a good amount, but could be worse. Peter's still unconscious, though the first room is a kitchen, so she can always slide him along on the floor until he's inside so she can close the door.

Elle isn't exactly subtle. She hauls him inside just enough that she can get the door closed. Then she lifts her palm to it and uses her electrical powers to arc-weld the door shut. Since he'll be right by it when he wakes. She fuses the metal lockplates together.

GAME: Elle has rolled PLASMA CUTTER and got a result of SUPERB.

The poor puppy has run all the way into the bathroom, and cowers behind the toilet, as if that would protect her. But the young man she dragged inside stays out as she welds the door shot. She'll even have time to rifle through the fridge and get a Diet Pepsi, or orange juice, or a V8, or even a rare beer, if she wanted, before he sturs. Drowsy, and confused, Peter doesn't get up right away, though he does start to sit up. No bolting, no disappearing act, he just looks around, confused— and then with one final image burned into his memory. His girlfriend throwing a burst of electricity at him. "Elle…?" he says softly, vision still blurry.

Elle doesn't raid his fridge…after all, she's not sure she has the time. Instead, she's sitting in a chair, crossways…legs draped over one arm of it. "That's right." she says. "So…you went to a lot of work to stalk the hell out of me yesterday. So tell me, what's the washed up, ex-druggie brother of a senatorial candidate want with me?" She lightly taps a fingertip on the arm of the chair.

"Was never a druggie," Peter corrects softly, pushing himself to his feet with a groan. This shouldn't be so difficult on him, but it really is. Not only was he knocked unconscious, but now he's being smacked around. "And he was running for congress, not the senate." With the corrections made, he starts into the living area, looking at her with a hurt, and lost expression. "Do you remember where you slept two nights ago? Three nights ago? The whole week before that?"

She shrugs. "He said you were. On television and everything." The whole senate/congress thing doesn't bother her…it's a detail irrelevant to her. As he starts into the room, she raises her hand, palm up, a lightning ball appearing in it. "Ah-ah-ah now. You stay put like a -good- little stalker, or Auntie Elle is gonna light you up like a Christmas tree." She frowns at his questions. "What the hell is it any business of yours where I'm sleeping?" she demands.

"Wouldn't be the first time you have," Peter says softly, looking at the electric ball in her hand. Though he does stop moving for the moment. He could take it, but that's not really the point, is it. "It's my business… because you were sleeping here. We'd been living together for a month." Though he doesn't correct to inform they'd only lived together in the /apartment/ for a week. Before that they'd lived in his mom's house, and then she was gone for half of this month… details, details. "Open the drawer of the desk," he nods towards the same desk the computer is on. "The top middle one." That's where he put the pictures they took together.

Elle stands, warily. She moves towards the desk, though her eyes stay on Peter, and the hand with the electroball remains raised and aimed in his general direction. When her hip bumps the desk, she reaches behind her without looking, and fumbles with her other hand to open the door, then reach around for pictures.

"If you want to shock me first so you feel better, go ahead," Peter says, looking away towards the ceiling, and the rather fancy light fixture. Still, he does help her out a bit. "Should be on the right side. On the top of everything else. It's a long strip. Photographs." There's no move at all to get closer to her, or to raise his own hands, even. In fact, he sticks his hands in his pockets, almost making a shrugging gesture.

Elle takes a moment to flick her gaze over, just long enough to grab the strip. She then returns it to Peter, and brings it around so she can see it and him at the same time. But her attention quickly goes over to it. "What the hell?…" she looks at the strip of photos, clearly puzzled.

"It was our second date," Peter explains, leaning against the wall, with the umbrella rack right next to him. Dangerous place to be, with lightning girl nearby. "I took you to an arcade. You'd never been before. We played a racing game, then a shooting game, then skee ball and wack the gopher, and DDR. And… we took those," he nods towards the pictures. "I know, probably figure you could do better than me, huh?" From the sound of it, he's not actually joking, actually putting himself down. "Probably could. Looks like your father thought so, too."

Elle looks at the pictures, then back up to him. They could be faked, sure. But the pictures, the phone call, the fuzzy spots in her head. "I was dating you?" she says, covering uncertainty with sarcasm. "You don't look like much."

"Should have seen me before you cut my hair," Peter murmurs softly, running a hand over his shorter hair, though it has begun to grow back. No where near how it had been a year ago, or worse, near the end of last year. "You don't remember anything at all involving me, do you? What about the Bomb? Linderman's plan to blow up New York? You remember that?"

Elle looks at him disbelievingly. She stuffs the photos in a pocket. "How the hell do you -know- all this?" she demands, angrily. When she pulls the hand back out of the pocket, it's crackling with electricity too.

When she stuffs the pictures into her pocket, Peter moves, no longer leaning against the door frame, and his hands coming out of his own pockets. "Elle— those are the only pictures I have." Shouldn't he be more concerned with the zapping balls of electricity than the picture she'd shoved in her pocket? Most guys would be, but he's actually /staring/ at her pocket. Still, he does answer her question, looking up towards her face, "I know about the Bomb because I was the bomb."

GAME: Elle has rolled EXTRA CRISPY and got a result of GREAT.
GAME: Peter has rolled DEXTERITY and got a result of MEDIOCRE.
GAME: Peter has rolled STAMINA and got a result of GOOD.
GAME: Peter has rolled REGENERATION and got a result of MEDIOCRE.

From all intents and purposes, the young man doesn't even attempt to dodge. Or if he does, it's handled very poorly. The arch hits him square in the chest, and he falls back onto the floor of his own kitchen. A hit like that would hospitalize someone, normally, but after a gasp of air, Peter's already trying to sit up.

Elle looks at him, rather disbelievingly, but she tries to bluff. "I told you to stay -put-." She's going to have to find out more about this guy. Somehow she got herself in much deeper than she expected to. The blonde begins to back away to the front door.

The wound on his chest, which burns his shirt more than a little, begins to heal over, causing him to groan as he sits up. Peter doesn't move after her, allowing her to make a scramble towards the door, but— he can speak, though it's quite pained, "You /do/ remember Adam." He's grasping at straws, trying to find parallel memories that should lead to him, even if they don't. "They put me in the cell next to him, in the first facility they held me in. In November. After I blew up above New York. You were the one that brought me in."

Elle hesitates. Because she does know Adam Monroe. And there was…there was an explosion. She went on a trip…but why? The blonde looks frustrated, and she stops at the door. "So what proof do you have for any of this?!" she demands. "Some pictures that could be faked? How do I know you're not BEHIND all this?!"

By this point, Peter's looking quite a lot better, the wound almost entirely healed over. That's far, far too quick, almost like Adam. "My phone's on the desk. Next to my laptop. They might have deleted your calling history, but they didn't delete mine." That could be a little hint, but he continues. "There's your drinks in the fridge, Diet Pepsi. In the bathroom there's a second toothbrush, hairbrush… the dresser has some of your clothes, your make up, a pair of shoes." There's a slow breath, and he finally adds, "And on the table next to the bed, right side, is a copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz that you gave me, in early March. A copy that you read when you were a kid. You drew the characters in the margins, stick figures, crude drawings… and unicorns."

Elle looks rattled. The information has her uncertain. "Show me." she demands, simply. She'll want to see these things before she's willing to take any steps like this.

Luckily, at this point, Peter's healed enough he can stand, bracing against the wall until he's on his feet. Cautiously, because it's obvious he's still winded by the hit, he walks over to the fridge and opens that wide, to show, indeed, there's a whole case of Diet Pepsi, with muct of it drank. Letting the door slide shut without a word, he moves towards the living room, exposing his back to her, and look rather defenseless as he makes his way to the open double glass doors and the bedroom beyond.

The blonde looks at the fridge when he opens it. But that alone is little proof. She continues to follow, at a healthy distance, as he moves to the bedroom.

One one side of the bed, is the dresser with drawers he'd cleaned out for her, but noticably there are shoes, high heals and pumps, just a few pairs of shoes that are her size. There's also a jacket or two hung up, and Peter opens the drawer and picks up a few piles of folded clothes and sets them on the bed. Blouses, slacks… Nothing intimate. Though those are in the drawer as well.

The blonde looks down at the clothes. More evidence, since there's no way he could wear them. She frowns, but is still sticking to her guns. "Show me the book." she says.

GAME: Peter has rolled TELEKINESIS and got a result of AVERAGE.

Well, the book is on the other side of the bed, but Peter just makes a mild gesture, and it moves off of the night table and flies into his hand, no where near heading towards her, but it seems he's not wanting to walk around her, either. Didn't he already show one ability? Well, now he's shown more. The book has a well loved cover, showing it's been through quite a bit of wear and tear, and there's something sticking between some of the pages.

Elle frowns more at the obvious second ability. Right now, "Sylar" is going through her head. Did he get shapeshifting somehow? Her wariness goes up. "Hand it to me. Slow."

Elle takes the book. She inspects it, still keeping an eye on Peter, and opens it to see what is tucked into it.

Inside the book would be a survellience photo of his brother, clean shaven, scar free, including a time stamp. There's also scribbles in the margins, as he'd said there were. Dog earing, as well. "It's my brother," Peter adds, though she should already know. "When I blew up over New York, it was because he flew me there. I nearly killed him. That's why I let you and your father talk me into staying in the facility. Taking the drugs you fed me every day. In March, you brought me this picture of him to show me he'd been healed, with Claire's blood, and then you told me you swapped out my pills for vitamins, and told me I should leave, that I didn't need them to control the abilities I have."

This is distressing. Rather distressing. She backs up, looking at him, and she puts the book down on the nearest surface, her emotions in turmoil. She starts to back towards the door.

"Wait, Elle…" Peter says, stepping after her, but not moving quite as quickly as if he's actually intending on catching her, or stopping her. "I did mean what I said over the phone."

GAME: Elle has rolled DON'T TASE ME BRO and got a result of GREAT.
GAME: Peter has rolled DEXTERITY and got a result of GOOD.
GAME: Peter has rolled STAMINA and got a result of GOOD.

This time, she doesn't hit him quite as square on. Peter nearly dodges. But she tags his shoulder, and that's enough, sending him staggering to his knees, and then leaning forward on his own floor. He's fighting unconsciousness, it seems, but that doesn't work out so well. He slumps down, and is out. For the moment.

Elle decides to get out while the getting's good. The blonde runs to the door, makes use of a quick cutting on the door to re-open it, and runs outside.

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