CLAIRE BENNET, HIRUMA YOUICHI, AND ANTUBIS .. SEXYPANTS.

PLEASE REPORT TO MY OFFICE.

I HAVE BOOZE

I COME BEARING THE GIFT OF ENLIGHTMENT AND WISDOM.

Let it be known that one, Peter Petrelli is forever in my debt and owes me in countless goods and SERVICES.

That's right. Now.. what kind of services should I demand?

Where exactly might I obtain one (1) of those dragons? Preferably a domesticated version that would float above my disco and eat anyone who attempts any form of treachery

I also wonder where I might obtain one (1) of those James Wilsons, not to float above my dsico but to dance within it.

Dragons. Really. I think someone knows what I did

If anyone has any information about any sudden occurrences of clowns in Rivelata, I would appreciate all of the leads I can get on this.

This is a matter of utmost importance.

So the disco is open.

If you're not there, you should be.

[page slightly wrinkled, as if under attack, however no one can tell it is truly an attack of DECEPTION]

HELP. HELP. WE NEED A DOCTOR AT THE DISCO. I THINK I'M DYING

This is a little message going out to one, Lauren Reed.

I simply must ask, sconey-poo.

Who's your sexy British boss? TELL ME WHO YOUR SEXY BRITISH BOSS IS. And just how sexy he is. And British

Kensei Junior is rather unimpressed and surrounded by my pants ennui.

Sanity? I hear you calling but I can't come to the phone.

Lauren Reed, please report to my office.

I repeat.

LAUREN REED, PLEASE REPORT TO MY OFFICE.

So what of the spotted dick?

So, I'm announcing that I'm going to open a DISCO.

Particularly what with the shifting economy, some of you will be in need of jobs. So I'm opening this up as hiring. The disco itself is ready to go, however I will obviously need it fully staffed and all last minute considerations made prior to holding any sort of grand opening.

( If you need any visual convincing, have at it. )

And don't think I didn't take all of you far less prone to things that sparkle into consideration.

( Because I sure as hell did. )

So I will be in need of some bouncers, some bartenders, and on some nights I do anticipate hiring bands, and dancers (cage is optional) so if you're not in a band, then I suggest you start forming them. I may open this up to other positions and if I do, then I will surely make an announcement. As for your pay, which I'm sure some of you are curious about, bouncers will make two copper pence per hour, bartenders will make one copper pence per hour AND tips, dancers will make one copper pence per hour AND tips, and bands, it is negotiable depending on how many band members there are, that is, I'll negotiate. But it will be fair. I have unlimited amounts of.. invaluable resources at my disposal so I assure you my rates are not false.

And, as for a name? Considering I have a fondness for being slightly reprehensible in my decisions, I have decided to go with:

ADAM & EVE'S

Claire, would you do me the honour of being the resident Eve? ♥

So I've been feeling.. oddly nostalgic today. Which means there's only one thing that's appropriate in this sort of situation.





































Anyone up for a disco?

Slightly frustrating, when something you've been waiting for that long of a time didn't feel nearly as good as anticipated.

Fucking hell.

01001001001001110110110100100000011011100110111101110100001000000111011101100101011000010111001001101001011011100110011100100000011100000110000101101110011101000111001100101110

In other news, Peter? I'll be borrowing your comfortable pants.

Peter, if you can somehow read this right now, COME BACK.

This time, I'm requesting soberly. Fancy that one. I swear, this is all doing something to my head and I don't like it.

And no, I'm not going to stop complaining until you're back here. And you're NEVER setting foot outside of this apartment again, I swear on my life. And my life is really one hell of a thing to swear on.

Ahhahahahhahahaahhaahaaa.

Oh isn't this just fine and dandy. So Peter's off fraternizing with the dead bodies and Claire was kidnapped (... swear if a dead body did it, I'll kill them again. Death squared does happen.)

Mustn't be that big of a corpse party since Peter left behind the booze. And I commend him for such foresight.

YOU KNOW, I WOULD GET THE BOTH OF THEM BACK BUT I CAN'T FIND THEM ANYWHERE. But the alcohol? Found it. Then I found it again.

AND GUESS WHAT. I FOUND IT A THIRD TIME. AND A FOURTH. And it.. FOUND ME.

What the hell, Peter. Dead bodies. Really not better company than me.

OH OH AND THIS IS JUST THE ICING ON THE BAGPIPE, THIS IS. Succubi. SUCCUBI. That's right, I see through your ploys, much like I see through your shirt. Yeah, that's right. I noticed.

I think my pen squirted ink in my eye. Fucking pen. Or wait, is this a quill? What the hell are you? What the hell are you?

Now, see here Peter. Peter. Peter Petrelli. PETER PETRELLI. HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I SERENADED YOU? RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW. DRAW LITTLE MUSICAL NOTES AROUND EVERYTHING.

DEAD BODIES. WHY. WHAT A DRAG.

Metaphorically speaking, it seems as if this place has yet again neglected to swallow. Common courtesy, I'd think.

Not like these sentiments are being at all improved by certain hellish banes of my existence. And no, don't you dare flatter yourself for getting a mention in here. That's not what it is at all.

Oh, and Peter? I do believe we need to arrange something.

I don't want to write in this thing because I enjoy being contrary so much more.

A little too late to hold up to that promise, isn't it?

So I'll leave it at this.

Slightly sociopathic¹ 400-year-old pain in the ass male of apparent British origins seeking roommate. Any applicants acknowledge that entering into any sort of agreement does mean I have the right to terminate YOU, should you annoy me. I also reserve the right to reject EVERYBODY should I see fit to do so, or accept anybody on the grounds of any ulterior motive that I see fit to accept.

I SAID I enjoyed being contrary. Rather that than accepting everything.

¹ This statement may or may not be true. Can't be buggered to show the slightest amount of straightforwardness. Thank you, don't come again.

A journal.

How very fitting, isn't it? Not a familiar place or person in sight, and I'm left to become familiar with myself.

After four hundred years, I honestly can't say that I find myself particularly unfamiliar.

Quite frankly, I'm much rather inclined to dismiss all of this as madness and leave however the hell I'm expected to do that.