2007-05-05: Something Else


Peter_icon.gif Jessica_icon.gif

Guest Starring:


Summary: Peter comes upon the bookstore and gets more than he bargained for when he interrupts Jessica. WARNING: bloody violence.

Date It Happened: May 5th, 2007

Something Else

Enlightenment Books, East Village, NYC

There is no one in Enlightenment Books.

That's the first impression: that the hotspot of the unusual is empty. No employees linger around the counter, no one is hidden in the aisles, and there's nothing, at all, that would indicate the store is even open - and why would it be? The doors and windows have been repaired, but most of the shelves are empty. The sign on the door declares that it is closed, the door is locked, the lights are off - but it can be seen through the plate glass window that the door to the back room is ever-so-slightly ajar. A shadow passes by, the door moves, the shadow passes again. Maybe Cass is back there doing some organizing.

There's been very few times when Peter could claim he'd been partially responsible for the near destruction of a woman's store. Well, besides the time he nearly destroyed New York, but that would have been a great many stores and not just the one. This is why he's standing outside the store, looking at the newly redone windows and replaced lock, hands in his pockets. He's about to move on, when he sees a shadow inside and the door moving. There's a pause, and he peers inside for a moment, before reaching up to knock. Considering the text message he got from Elena last night… it wouldn't surprise him if they're having a secret meeting in the bookstore.

After the knock on the door, a worrying scraping sound emanates from somewhere inside the store. It's loud enough, caused by something heavy enough, for a muffled version of it to be heard on the street. It cuts off abruptly just a moment later. There's a brief flash of movement from behind the barely open door of the back room. What meagre light was on back there disappears. If there's a secret meeting going on, Peter, it seems, is not invited.

There's a frown, as Peter peers inside and sees the light go out. That's definitely odd. Reaching down to pick up his cellphone, he thumbs through the directory to find the phone number of the store and set it to dial. Might as well see if someone answers before he does something dumb. Of course, while it's dialing, he also reaches to test the door, checking if it's locked.

Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep. The phone is busy - or off the hook. The door to the bookstore is locked, and everything inside is silent.


This might get him into trouble, but Peter can't help but find out what's going on. This store gets broken into so much… and if Alyssa really /does/ have a list of names and numbers, he wouldn't put it past the Company to send someone in to find it… So leaning against the door until he can see the lock, two of them. Starting with the deadbolt, he flips it until it unlocks, and then he does the same to the bottom lock, which would go into the floor. Now— when he opens the door, it should work. And hopefully not set off any alarms.

If there is someone in the back room, which there assuredly is, they're staying very, very still and very, very silent, because there's not a peep back there. Despite the multiple break-ins, no alarm goes off when Peter opens the door. Or maybe, if there is one installed, his telekinesis tricked it. The only sound is the soft, insistent beeping from the phone on the counter behind a box of books - off the hook, lying on its side.

Stepping inside, Peter closes the door behind him, twisting the lock closed as he does. Just the deadbolt. That's all that's really necessary right now. "Cass?" he calls out, curiously peeking into the room with the door open, listening the the phone beep. Why would someone leave it off the hook. It's possible that the person went out the back door already, so he starts moving towards the back room door.

No answer.

… At least not from Cass. When Peter gets just close enough to the entrance to the back room, the door comes flying at him, swinging outward on its hinges with a violent, decidedly non-accidental force. Stepping into the doorframe with one stride of black boots is Niki - or at least the face that Peter knows as Niki. Her cold expression bears little resemblance to the mother-of-one's as she glares at him with a dangerous flash of violence in her eyes.

If there's one thing he didn't expect, it's the door flying out at him. The most he can do is keep from getting too hit by it, but it still manages to clip his nose enough to break it, causing a stream of blood to appear as he falls back and hits the floor with a grunt. Hands go up to his face, and he stares up at the woman from the floor. What was that for!? He'd like to say it outloud, but it comes out rather messily at the moment. Broken nose and pain and all. It's very visible in his eyes, at least. Surprise and confusion.

With a narrowing of her eyes, the intruder, of sorts, considers this guest. Heels click on the old, hardwood floor as she moves to stand tall above him. Recognition. A smirk spreads across her lips and she gives a laugh that can barely be considered as such. It's more like a snort. She ought to be thankful to this guy; he did, after all, save her from falling many feet to her death, but does she look impressed? Nope. His purpose has come and gone. "I don't think we've met." The woman hauls back with a boot and lashes out with a kick to toward Peter's ribs, smirking all the while. "My name's Jessica."

Yes, she should be thankful. Just as he'd been thankful for her assistance against Sylar. There's something so foreign in her eyes, though, like she knows him, but— the closest he's seen to someone looking at him like that would be Bob, or Elle shortly after she'd been brain wiped and before she knew who he was. There's definitely something wrong with this, though. "What?" he says outloud right before the foot comes down on his ribs. He tries his best to get out of the way, and actually almost does, so when the foot comes down it's more of a glancing blow that still probably fractured if not broke quite a few ribs— It'll heal, with time, epecially since the bleeding from his nose has already fixed itself, leaning only a scratch and bruise by the time his hands lower. Doesn't mean there isn't pain. She's greeted with a pained yell, as he tries to scramble away on the floor, looking up at her with shock and worry— and pain. And also 'what the hell' "Jessica?" He doesn't get this.

Hold on a tic. His nose isn't broken? Jessica was pretty sure she saw it get smashed. Cocking her head to the side, she looks down on Peter with one brow lifting. "You're… a little slow, aren't you?" She crouches beside him even as he tries to scramble away, her hands dangling between her knees casually. "You even went back to my crime scene at that apartment," she reminds him, almost… sing-song. "Remember now?"

Now that the blonde isn't obscuring the doorway to the back room, its contents are more obvious — it's difficult to see in the dark, but things are definitely in disarray, drawers pulled out and papers scattered, a bookshelf half-pulled away from the wall…

And a body sprawled on its side on the floor.

Cass Aldric.

Well, no one's ever tried to claim Peter's a genius. No one. Especially not himself. Sure, he's not dumb, but— he can't help but look at the woman in confusion, as the bruising and cut on his nose completely heals over. The ribs are next… the pain starts to go away. There's definitely still blood on his face, smeared from when he raised his hand to it, but there's no adding to it, at the very least. His eyes stay on her face as he processes 'her crime scene'. "Where's Niki?" It seems like the only legitimate question he can voice, though he's not quite figured out what's going on yet. This world is strange. That's all there is to it. Of course as he asks that, his eyes slide towards the door— towards what appears to be another crime scene. Cass. Almost as soon as he sees her, the scrambling away becomes attempts to scramble to his feet, making movements as if to go towards the door. "Cass!" he calls out, hoping to hear her answer, and ignoring the possible threat this really strong woman might pose. Again, no one ever claimed he's smart.

"Niki's busy, try again later," Jessica deadpans with that wicked smirk of hers. Beepbeepbeepbeep. The phone still protests softly behind them. Jessica's casual pose is an illusion: she snaps out of her crouch in a mere second, muscles springing tautly into action the moment Peter tries to get anywhere near the back room - and Niki's boss. Not so fast, guy. Instead of trying to beat him to the chase and block his away, the woman takes the more direct approach. Her hand whips toward him on a decisive course for his throat.

Perhaps it's the idea of a close friend laying on her side, perhaps injured or dead, that makes Peter actually do the right thing and dodge out of the way when the hand cuts towards his throat. For someone not even vaguely trained in combat, it's still not pretty. The strike misses, but he ends up falling onto his back again, scrambling along the floor again. This time in the direction of the door, and his fallen friend. A hand comes up, pointed in her direction, as if he's attempting to do something, but— except nothing at all happens. At least the pain in his ribs is almost completely gone now.

Jessica doesn't so much as flinch as her grab for Peter doesn't end how she plans. Small blessings - for Peter, it's that he's not in pain… right this second… and for her, it's that whatever he's trying to do results in nothing. After giving the man a fleetingly weird look - 'seriously?' - it's a matter of seconds before she tries again. There's violence to be had, and Peter, as far as she's concerned, is a human punching bag who happens to be in the way. Poised forward with her weight on one foot, it's the other one that goes sailing at Peter again.

Again, it's not the easiest thing in the world, or the prettiest. Still on his back, Peter barely manages to roll out of the way of the that tries to put him down for quite some time. Hopefully the floor can take the potential damage. Unfortunately, as he's trying to scramble through the door, once he's dodged, he's out of places to go. There's no longer enough room to go forward or back. So he reaches over and tries to grab her leg with the hand he'd tried pointing at her before.

Though the grab doesn't quite land, there's a distinct crackling of electricity around his hand this time, that jumps out to attempt to zap her. Specifically in the leg.

The vicious kick sails through the spot Peter was lying a moment ago and splinters the door further with a loud *CRACK* that would have been his bones, had he been slower. Stepping away from his grab, Jessica is already poised to throw another kick his way - but that's when he starts going flashy on her. The bolt of electricity courses into her leg, and her entire body tenses sharply - but the zap ultimately elicits a perverse laugh of amusement. She takes it and just keeps on going, reaching down to try and grab the front of his shirt, lightning be damned. So far.

Peter is hauled up - and thrown, /hard/, into the wall to the right of the door, just inside the back room where Cass lays unmoving on the floor. It's only a few feet; Jessica's hot on his flightpath, her grasp never letting go. She stands face-to-face with Peter, albeit a touch taller than him, and murmurs thickly through her teeth: "Your brother was more /agreeable/."

Shoved against the wall, Peter can't help but cry out, and she'll hear a few things splinter as he's hauled up, so much so that when he cries out, there's a hint of blood on his lips. Did she collapse one of his lungs maybe? It's very possible… The coughing continues, as he stares up at her, hands going up to wrap around the wrist of the hand that's holding him, and once again attempting to do something to stop this, but all that ends up happening is his hands hold onto her. There's another cough, as he attempts to talk, a gurgle of blood evident, "Somehow… doubt… you were like this… with him." He would have noticed if his brother had a collapsed lung.

"No, but it looks like stamina runs in the family," Jessica croons as she holds Peter against the wall. Though she still grips the front of his shirt, it's really her own body that pins him there, pressed close. "We could go all night, too," she says, voice low, suggestive as it could ever be - but she goes for Option B and tries to speed it up a little. Letting go of Peter's shirt, she hauls back with her knuckles, landing a ferocious uppercut beneath his sternum.

Go all night? Apparently not. Peter coughs up some blood as her hands shift, pounding into his stomach, and his fingers slip from around her wrist. Could be he's lost consciousness for a moment, held up exclusively by her body, his head lulling forward. Maybe he's not got that amount of stamina after all… There's no zaps of electricity, no kicks of protest.

The remarks from Jessica cease. They would, after all, fall on deaf ears. Furthermore? She means business now. (She didn't before?) Peter wilts, but she keeps him pinned against the wall with her hips - because her hands are busy. While a less brutal person would leave him be, Jessica is not that person. Shoving his lulling head back off of her, the deceptively trim muscles of her bare right arm contract forcefully as she thrusts her hand /through Peter/, rupturing tissue as easily as tearing through a birthday present.

And then she squeezes.

Though he might have been unconscious for a moment, as he hand rips through his skin and starts to go to work on his insides, Peter gets woken up by sheer pain alone. Though there's a good amount of blood spitting out of his mouth, he screams in pain, thrashing his legs a bit— up until the screaming stops, and all that's left is some unconscious twitching. Blood, and pieces will drip to the floor, but by this point, he's very much physically dead… and going to stay that way for a time. Shorter time than most of her victims, though.

Letting go of the vital organ that kept the younger Petrelli alive, Jessica rips her hand out, slick with blood past her wrist, and lets him slump to the ground at her feet. He doesn't say there for long - she lifts him up over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, blood and gore and all. She gives the back room one quick glance around, eyeing a large rectangular object behind the akimbo bookshelf. Half of its wrappings are shorn, revealing artwork of some sort. She steps toward the back door - but as an afterthought, spins around, pushes the bookshelf with one hand so that it crashes forward just a foot from where Cass lies, and snatches the painting. Maybe it was what she was looking for. Maybe it wasn't. Stepping over Niki's unconscious boss, she strolls out of the bookstore… to get rid of Peter, at least for a little while.

Well, that got out of hand. But at least she got a chance to get her hands dirty.

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