Ryden listened politely to his fellow mutant, and dipped his head slightly acknowledgement of what he was saying. " Staying under the radar seems like a helpful trait when you have a visible mutation." In his own life though, being invisible wasn't something he really tried for anymore. Without being able to talk, he often had more trouble being heard. "I guess I didn't make a choice not to be noticed. People don't pay much attention to someone who doesn't talk." He mused.

At the remark about mugging Ryden laughed, the volume loud enough to carry the extra few feet to where the lamp was. A faint snap let him know it had found something to break. "Getting mugged in this city almost sounds like the lesser of evils. With a city of mutants I'm just glad no one has dropped a building on me or something." He shook his head at the idea.

Sylar seemed to appreciate his thoughts about the park though, which was nice. Then he asked about the article and Ryden glanced down at it. "It's a review of Matilda, the musical. I went to see it a few days ago and am finishing up the writing now. Thankfully we weren't on a tight schedule this time so it gave me some leeway..." Talking about schedules with Sylar felt a little odd. He had a feeling Sylar didn't exactly keep a daybook of what he needed to get done.

Though they were two very different individuals, in the end both Sylar and Ryden were hiding. Mutants had to hide if they wanted a life devoid of conflict. Ryden worked in their world, so he had to appear as normal as the rest of them, Sylar just happened to take his hiding more literally. Sylar knew what it was like to go unnoticed though, even when you were surrounded. "Everybody ignores the quiet ones until they do something crazy." He muttered in respond.

It was true, mundane crimes like mugging seemed to trivial if you stopped to think that now there were people who could drop a car on you, or blow you up with their mind. Having your wallet jacked by a punk with a knife sounded so ordinary in comparison. Though in Ryden's case all he had to do was scream while being robbed and the event would go down alot differently than normal. "I'd be worried about dropping a building yourself, its a city of glass and steel here." Sylar couldn't see these materials, but he knew them well. He was a predator of the urban jungle, concrete, steel, glass, these materials were the things he had to know and be familiar with. What he could grab on to, hide behind, or break. After all most stores had walls comprised of these three materials. "I'm generally the one doing the mugging so it makes it simple for me." He said offhandedly, revealing that he was in fact a very common criminal. Well uncommon in nature, common in crime.

Sylar had no schedules, and no recreation, so everything Ryden spoke off seemed alien to the boy now. "A musical, it's been a long time since I listened to anything musical. Was it good?" He asked with genuine curiosity. Sylar didn't mind much not having these things available to him, you get used to a lack of luxury in the sewers, but if that was the man's job, he must be interested in them. A review was a document judging a production for others to read, a completely useless and foreign concept for Sylar. "I imagine a musical wouldn't be very interesting not being able to see the dancing and what not though." He mumbled his inner thought aloud.

The remark about dropping a building on himself caused a rather rueful chuckle from Ryden, and his expression melted into a small grimace. "I've already fallen through bleachers, so dropping a building on myself would be the next step up... I am always nervous my pants will break or something if I get the wrong pair..." He added. Metal exploding in your crotch would really put a damper on your evening.

Then the comment on mugging came so easily for Sylar. Ryden just shrugged. He wasn't judging at this point. "I'm not going to lie, there are times crime has an appeal... I've been broke enough..." That was strange to say, but when your voice could break metal, things like locked doors didn't look so intimidating.

"The musical was nice. And even if you can't watch the danging I think the sound alone is great. I've seen the Lion King a number of times, and the music is always great." Ryden said, not sure if he was making things better or worse. It was hard to tell with Sylar.

Sylar let the image of his zipper exploding and decided he was not very fond of that idea at all. He might be tougher than any normal man, but an explosion near your crotch was uncomfortable even for a monster. Ryden seemed to have accepted his status as a mutant at least, comfortable enough with Sylar's remark to twist it into a joke. Sylar wasn't so lucky, his sense of humor was basically dead, and he still hated what he was becoming some days.

Ryden mentioned being broke enough to consider crime, which Sylar didn't even know what it meant to not be without money. His life involved zero acquisition and transfer of money as the normal people so loved to do. For Sylar it was simply take what you need when you need it. After all, animals and monsters didn't buy their food from stores, they took it or murdered it when they needed to. "I try to avoid hurting anyone when I steal, but a creature like me has little need of, and even less ability to use money as the world does. I don't even know what the stuff looks like actually." Which was a truth, considering Sylar was blind and had only ever handed money when he was in school. A mixture of papery strips and metal coins, covered in pictures he knew, just ones he'd never seen or could see.

Sylar didn't miss the leisure of normalcy much, but music was one thing every person had a soft spot for. Sylar however had lost his, having spent so much time only hearing it in the background of his new world. Perhaps it was something he might get back in touch with someday. "I do remember when I listened to music as a boy, being born blind gives you a great appreciation for it. I could never see what everyone else did, but I heard so much more than them. And now...it was a huge surprise you know, learning just how loud this world is. Hearing all the things you people ignore." Sylar's words might have come off as derisive, but it was simply physical fact for the boy. His ears had already been better than usual, and now with his mutant body his hearing was on par with a dog or wolf, letting him hear the resonance of the world as no person could without some kind of aid.

Most people could hear the heartbeat of another when they cuddled close, pressing their ear to the other's body, Sylar could hear your heart beat across the room, as well as everyone else. He had to learn to tune some of it out even, to focus on what mattered. Such hearing with music? Perhaps he'd make out some divine message lost on the normal ears, or maybe it'd all be ugly to him. He was a bit curious though. "Perhaps I'll have to break into a musical sometime, I'm sure I could find it easy enough if people are singing. Such an obvious sound compared to the usual hustle and bustle of New York." Sylar's tail swished behind him. He'd spent quite a bit of time here with Ryden actually, longer than he'd usually spend with anyone but a friend. Perhaps he was beginning to lose his edge around mutants, both physically and socially. "Do you enjoy writing as a job Ryden?" Sylar asked idly, wondering if the man enjoyed his job. Sylar had never had one, and was curious how a mutant felt working a normal job. After all, mutants tended to be very different or dangerous compared to normal people.

Ryden shook his head slightly at Sylar's remark. Not needing money seemed like it would make life a lot easier. Sure, there were trade offs, but working all the time got demanding. Money was one of the staples of daily life. Not needing it, heck, not even really knowing what it looked like sounded nice to him. "You're probably better off. Money's created more problems for me than anything else. It's sort of the bane of existence. Although if you don't really have use of money I suppose stealing would make sense though. Not much in the world you can get without it." He considered.

The conversation itself was almost a little silly. Casually talking about stealing and the concepts probably wasn't the most socially acceptable thing to do. But Ryden had come to accept that was part of being a writer. You talked about things others wouldn't, and you considered ideas regardless of the morals involved. Being a writer, at least in the journalistic sense, often came from asking tough questions. Ryden probably could have been a better reporter if he could actually vocalize all those questions.

As Sylar started talking about music, Ryden gave a somewhat rueful smile. While he still had his sight, he also understood the values of sound. "When you have a mutation like mine you start having an appreciation for things like singing and music. While my hearing is definitely not up to your level, I still feel I've got a certain ear for things. I spend most of my time just listening to conversations I can't safely participate in." He remarked with a shrug.

"Sometimes the newspaper gets one of the box seats at the theater. If I ever get the chance sit in one I'd let you know. No one would bug you up there. Although the idea of you breaking in is amusing." He was not stealthy enough to try something like that. But he still had a small sense of adventure and could live vicariously through others. Not that Sylar probably considered such a venture being exciting...

"Writing... I do enjoy it, I guess. I don't like having to do the restaurant reviews, because it's hard to order food without breaking a glass or a fork, and that's a bit hard to explain. But the musicals and movies are fun, and I like getting to work at my own pace. It pays, that's also nice. All things considered things could be worse. I'd probably just enjoy writing novels more though." He admitted thoughtfully.

Ryden was a strange man, it seemed he lived the life of a quiet person for the sake of the world around him, and yet alone with another mutant he was going on like it was a conversation with an old friend. Sylar was mostly quiet as Ryden filled the night with his own voice. Sylar wouldn't complain, he didn't mind the company either now that his head was clear from the hunger. "I at least understand it's sway, my "other" friends move quite a bit of money in their lives." Sylar was referring to the Sanctuary, and some of the residents he knew there. He wasn't apart of the organized criminal world or any mutant mafia style thing...yet, but he did have an avid understanding of crime considering his own life style.

Ryden mentioned he spent alot of time listening to others, a trait Sylar shared with him. Sylar's powerful senses and inability to interact made him an avid people watcher. "Seems we have that in common. I do alot of people watching myself." Though it Sylar's case he could listen in on a conversation from across the street and atop a building if he wanted. How his senses were so powerful was a mystery to him, but he could hear and smell like a beast, with enough clarity to pick apart the various bits of information the same way an avid chef might be able to pick apart the flavors in a dish.

Ryden offered to let him into a musical or theater showing sometime, a friendly gesture the boy appreciated. "That'd be nice, though I doubt I'd be able to walk into the building let alone make it to a box seat. I'm pretty out of the ordinary after all." Sylar reminded Ryden of his physical appearance, a visage that even when he was acting like a fifteen year old boy and being friendly still gave off the vibe of horror movie monster.

Seemed Ryden enjoyed his position, even with the stress of money and the lack of ability to talk. Sylar wondered what he'd have done with his life if he hadn't turned into a monster. He was born blind but there were still jobs he could have had, a semi-normal life. But now he was doomed to be a monstrous criminal, a creature slowly losing it's humanity. Or some kind of super criminal, like a comic book character. At least he was alive, that's all that really mattered to him. "I could never write. But I miss reading. This..." He held up his armor clad hands to show them off. "This took away my ability to read braille." Had he explained his blindness? He couldn't remember, but that'd probably give a clue into his condition. "It's weird you know, you're still here talking to a monster in the dark. But you seem awfully normal for a mutie Ryden."

Ryden momentarily wondered about these other 'friends' Sylar mentioned. What sorts of companions would the sewer monster keep? He didn't seem particularly evil, but appearances could be very deceiving. Although in this case, he wondered if appearances were really showing what lurked beneath the surface. Was Sylar really a monster, and just behaving now because he'd had a meal? It was a question lurking in the sound mutants mind as he shrugged to the monster. "To each their own. I've seen far too many lives ruined over money, I hope I never let it sway me so much it takes over my life like that. It's funny, in a way. Money really has no value other than what value people agree it has. It represents so called 'gold' the country has stored away, but people hold onto the actual bills like they're made of gold. And why is gold so valuable really? It's just a rock... Money has always been just a little bit silly to me that way."

A person passed distantly, closer to the road, oblivious to the two mutants talking in the dark. Ryden didn't have Sylar's enhanced senses to guide him, but he could still notice things other people missed. He had good eyesight for a human, good hearing. And when you were quiet, people rarely gave you another look allowing you to watch much easier. "You assume that, but you'd be surprised what sorts of physical mutants still maintain daily lives around here. Sure, you get problems sometimes, but it all depends on your attitude. One of the people running for mayor not too long ago was part bird. There are well known mutants in other political positions as well, I think part of it is deciding for yourself what you want to be. Regardless, maybe you could listen from one of the maintenance areas or something...As for books, there are always books on tape..." He cut himself short, realizing he was probably being far too philosophical right now. Maybe he was just hoping for the hope that things would be better in the end. Sylar looked monsterous, but every mutant had the chance to be monsterous.

You seem awfully normal for a mutie Ryden. The creature said. Ryden shrugged, and leaned back on his hands. "Maybe. But put me in the right spot, I could look awful monstrous as well. We live in a city built on glass and metal. Bridges, skyscrapers, door locks... If I got tired of silence, what sorts of damage could I cause? Bust an axle on a moving vehicle, could cause a car wreck. Bust the right supports on a building... send it crashing into the ocean. New York isn't held together by much. Subway systems, planes, bank volts... held together by metal. Sometimes I don't think it's how someone looks, but what they do that creates the monsters in this world." Ryden stood and brushed off his jeans, collecting his notebook and glancing at the sky. It was too dark to pinpoint the time, but it was late, and probably about time he headed in for the night.

"Apologies for talking your ear off. Admittedly, I don't get many chances to voice what I'm thinking. I probably took advantage of your patience more than I should have." He flashed a slight smile, then shifted a few feed closer towards the road.

Ryden's inner thoughts might be closer to the money than he thought. Sylar might not be evil...but the creature consuming his body could be seen as evil. The monster inside was asleep now, but this was a rare moment. "Money has value in their world." Sylar turned to look at the city for a moment. "And when you don't live in that world it stops holding value. My world..." Sylar realized that even if he was avoiding it now, Ryden was a mutant still. "Our world values power and individuality. It's funny, how every mutant I meet is leagues apart from the one I met before. A strange race we are." He thought aloud. Knowing he'd just called Ryden very normal for a mutie, which meant he was still very human like as opposed to mutant like.

Sylar would have vanished had any other presence gotten too close, but for a short time more he could linger, and enjoy a rare conversation that didn't involve managing his inner monster, or avoiding gunfire. Ryden went on to discuss the mutants living in that human world in the distance, covered with night sky and the boy responded with a quiet tone. "I would choose not to be this. Not all of us can choose what we are. I'd be glad if I were you...that the monster avoids the light. On a different night you'd see a very different creature." Sylar wasn't even really talking to Ryden, but simply speaking an ominous message aloud. Tonight he was human, his belly full of meat and content, the beast bathing in it's blood lust. On another day, a man as human as Ryden might feel the same fear that deer felt, your eyes gazing upon a creature above you in the food chain. The Predator was a dangerous beast, and everyone should avoid the dark so long as it lived here.

Ryden began to discuss his own potential for danger. If Ryden's power was to destroy metal and glass than indeed he could bring the city to it's knees and shatter the world everyone thought was unshakable. Sylar knew that feeling, the pressure that power left on your shoulders. Mutants like them were easily a danger to the world around them, and at the drop of a hat they could shatter that peace. For a brief moment Sylar smiled with a bit of a sinister hint. "That pressure, the weight of that power. It gets very heavy Ryden. I hope you never have to know what the other side is like." Sylar's words held a hint of what he truly meant, having given into the beast before. That feeling when power took the reigns, and left chaos in it's wake, that feeling when the dark taboo urges in your gut were allowed to be explored. The feeling of using that power for selfish means. Sylar was cursed, fated to end up a monster, maybe other mutants need not suffer that destiny.

Ryden seemed to be inching towards leaving this little encounter, a sentiment Sylar was starting to realize himself. "It's rare that I can be this patient, so don't worry about it. Enjoy the normal days Ryden, not all of us have them." Sylar spoke, his voice returning to that dull dry tone he generally had, of a creature who didn't know how to properly show his feelings through speech.

The questions lingered in the back of Ryden's mind, sparked by the conversation with the sewer mutant. While their conversation was drawing to a close, he doubted the conversation itself would die away so fast. He was pretty human for a mutant, but he wasn't sure he was quite mutant enough to surrender his human habits. He thought money was silly, but still desired it. He thought hiding was silly, but he still hated being considered a freak. There were creature comforts ever mutant had to consider when choosing what steps to take in life, and he was still clinging to some of his. He wanted to write, and he wanted to visit stores, enjoy the freedoms he had. But were they really freedoms?

He could feel the weight of silence on him, feel the pressure on his shoulders. I hope you never have to know what the other side is like... The younger mutant said. Ryden felt himself wishing the same with one half of his mind, but another half found himself wishing the other. Was there a relief in that release? Was there an escape in just embracing that power? There was a lure in the thought of showing people just how strong he could be, see what he could do. He let the thoughts pass away though, pushing aside that temptation.

Enjoy the normal days... "I will do my best. Yet I always feel like normal is just one slip away from being out of my grasp." He gave a slight smile to whisk away the darkness that brewed in their conversation, and tipped his head at the dark mutant. "This chat has been a rare pleasure." He said, then quietly moved into the darkness. He didn't need to say anything to know that next time the two crossed paths, fate could deal very different cards.