[ He can't help his exclamation of disbelief as the Splicer comes near and he gets a good look at his face, but Booker at least manages to keep it to a barely-audible murmur. It hardly matters, at any rate; Elizabeth fires her crossbow almost immediately, the dart bringing its target to the floor with hardly a sound.
Where did she learn to shoot like that? He's not sure what to react to first: the masklike, terrifying expression of the man now lying stunned at their feet, or the passionless efficiency with which Elizabeth had dispatched him. He stares at them both, momentarily taken aback, but the fact of the matter is that there's no time to dwell on either right now. Elizabeth is already moving on, and rightly so.
He glances down at the hand-drawn map, nodding in understanding, but it's not long before she throws him for a loop again. Paris? He frowns, shaking his head. He'd never said anything about Paris. ]
I did. [ She doesn't elaborate much; she's been a a few different Parises. Paris during the Revolution, during the Renaissance, in the future when things are vastly different and difficult to understand. She's seen it all, and maybe that's why it hadn't resounded in her heart the way she'd dreamed.
I was only a child. But there were bad people in Paris, selfish people, people who would gladly sell their children for food or other things. There were still murderers, racists, kidnappers, smugglers. It was hardly perfect.
Not even close.
Elizabeth makes her way around the body, not glancing at the man who'd fallen. ]
The man who sent me, who has Sally, [ She begins, looking at him, ] he's looking for--
[ But Elizabeth cuts off suddenly, stiffening. Not too far off is an angry droning sound and her hair stands on end as she realizes: buzzing. Sure enough, staring them down and swaying slightly, another Splicer stands nearby, bees crawling up, down, and through his arm. ]
[ Instinctively, Booker moves to put himself between Elizabeth and the Splicer. What he's looking at is impossible...but then he thinks of his own hands lighting up with fire or lightning, back in Columbia.
He doesn't really miss the powers the Vigors had given him, most of the time. Better not to be able to light a person aflame with the flick of his wrist. But right now...right now, he'd give a lot for that, or for the ability to send a blast of water at the deranged creature standing in front of them. As it is, he's got nothing. No Vigors, no weapons.
The Splicer turns his head, looking at them curiously, and Booker stretches his hand back towards Elizabeth without taking his eyes off the enemy. ]
[ She thinks how easy it would be to dispatch the Splicer with a Plasmid (though it might attract the others, and though she doesn't want to reveal her use of them, yet). She thinks, too, of letting him take control of the situation, as he used to. Of allowing herself to be swept away in the role of the protected while he sheds blood. ]
No-- [ But she isn't sure. The Splicer watches them, muttering, stumbling closer, but not really enraged, as some of the others. Does he even see us? ] You don't need to fight anymore, to kill these people.
[ He's still killed, lived through Wounded Knee, lived Columbia even if it never happened. But, if she can keep him from it now, backwards though it seems... ]
We may be able to walk away; I'm not sure if he's lucid.
[ But he's watching the Splicer closely, and he thinks she may be right. The man - if it still is a man - is moving gradually closer, but there's no purpose to his movements, and he doesn't seem to be aware of his surroundings.
If they can avoid attracting his attention, they may have a chance. ]
Back away slowly. Be ready to find cover.
[ He's still determined to protect her as well as he can, even without weapons or Vigors. He'll just have to find a way, if it comes to that. ]
[ Elizabeth only nods, careful to avoid the crunch of broken glass under her heels. In older days, she might have reached out to tug on his sleeve, to feel that physical security, that he's really there... but she doesn't. He is really there, her selfish wishes come true, and she knows that she has to do what she can to isolate herself. We aren't the same people, aren't from the same world.
The Splicer loses interest. He grumbles at them, then begins rummaging behind the bar for whatever he could possibly find there. God forbid a Little Sister arrive and tempt him. ]
There. [ She breathes, once they've turned a corner, pressing her back to the wall. ] For now, we're all right.
[ He looks around warily even once they're out of sight, alert for any additional visitors, but they seem to be alone. For the moment. He shakes his head. ]
This isn't going to work - Elizabeth, if I'm going to get us through this, I'll need some sort of a weapon.
[ Because that's why he's here, isn't it? To get them, to get her through this, and make sure she lives to see the end of it. It's not that he doesn't trust her skill with the crossbow. But his whole relationship with her, with Anna, has been as protector and guardian. In every universe. This is no different, changed though she may be. ]
[ Yes, there are. The bodies more often than not have weapons on them-- a pistol here, some Eve there. Of course, he can't use the latter (or, she won't let him), but there's bound to be a heavy pipe or something therebouts within a safe distance.
Elizabeth finally admits a sigh. ]
Yes, all right, there is. But--
[ Just then, the short-wave radio at her hip crackles to life. Almost immediately, a man older than Booker, older than Elizabeth, with a clear Irish accent sounds between them. ]
"You alright down there, darlin'? We don't have much of a bounty in the ways of time, if you haven't already figured that out, and I'm getting a bit antsy with all the silence on your end."
[ Wide-eyed, she looks to Booker, raising a finger to her lips. Don't speak. ]
I'm working on it. [ She chews on her lips, glancing around. ] If it was that easy, I imagine you'd have gotten it yourself.
[ The Irish voice chuckles, but there's no warmth or humor in it. ]
You've got that right. Just make sure you keep focused, love. I'd hate for anything to happen to your little friend, here.
[ The line goes dead. Elizabeth sighs deeply, looking more wearied than ever before. ]
[ He frowns, his expression darkening as he listens. ]
He sounds pleasant.
[ And he's got Sally. Is threatening her, using her to keep Elizabeth in line. Combined with the familiar tone he uses with Elizabeth, the clear uneasiness and weariness in her expression as she responds...Booker dislikes this "Atlas" already. She shouldn't have to deal with anyone like that.
He raises his eyes to meet hers, an idea forming. ]
Why are you running around for this guy, Elizabeth? [ He's not really looking for an answer, though, and doesn't wait for one. ] You said you've got to save Sally. Well, if he's got her, then why don't we just go and take her back?
He's a charmer. [ She sighs, stowing the radio again. Their voices may have carried and she glances around, but no Splicers have wandered over, no Big Daddies lumbering nearby have noticed them.
At the question, Elizabeth hesitates. ]
... It wasn't an option, before. He would have killed me without any trouble, and Sally, then, without another thought.
[ He only thinks he needs me because of you. Her head swims and she raises a hand to it, a headache throbbing against her palm. Her hallucination of Booker, more accurately, some representation of the knowledge she'd had and lost, had told her about Suchong. Without that, she'd be dead and gone in a very permanent way. ]
And it still can't be an option. I can't risk you not walking out of here, Booker. He has men everywhere, has numbers more than I'd thought. We don't stand a chance.
[ For all her faith in Booker, she's more afraid than confident. Terrified that her mission will be the reason he doesn't return home again. What twisted irony would it be to have her be the reason he and Anna would be separated?
[ She can't help it. She looks up sharply, expression almost angry. ]
No. This isn't the same place, it isn't-- we have no tears, no fallback in that they were trying to capture me, and not kill me. If he so much as sees that I've been lying to him, he may kill Sally outright. And--
[ When he'd withdrawn his hand, she'd noticed: no AD. Nothing carved into the skin.
The ironclad determination closes around her heart. ]
Searching for items is one thing, but I won't risk your life in a brawl with Atlas. I can't let that happen.
I know. But Columbia was a different reality. You didn't belong there and you don't belong here.
[ No, she's always worried about him. He'd been her protector, after all, and then her friend. Then something more than that, whatever it was. Her confidante, her savior?
I have to repay what you've done for me. Don't you understand that? ]
I know that. But sometimes, we were lucky. If anything happened--
[ She shakes her head firmly. ]
If you won't listen to me, then think of Anna. You have to go back to her.
[ Booker falls silent, looking down at Elizabeth unhappily. She's right, which is the worst part. He can't sacrifice himself for her or put himself in danger, not when Anna is back home alone, waiting for him to return. He can't - won't - steal her childhood from her a second time.
But Elizabeth doesn't belong here either. She deserves better than this dank, dangerous place, working for a man who'd kill her as soon as look at her. He takes her hands in his larger ones, squeezing them gently.
[ She looks up at him as he takes her hands, expecting more dissent. Blessedly, he realizes that she's right, and her expression softens. She doesn't want to argue with him any more than she wants to put him into harm's way. Him being here is... something she'd never dreamed of. Never hoped that she'd have. Even if it terrifies her.
Elizabeth squeezes his hands back, then releases them slowly. ]
I need to find a CO2 scrubber. [ beat ] ... There's a Lutece device in a lab here that I'm trying to repair.
[ And however did it get down here? He'll have more questions than she does answers, but the simple response has always been the same: constants and variables. ]
Once I fix it... it'll take us back to Columbia. I'm not sure which one.
The Lutece Particle. [ She sighs, then begins moving without announcing it, working slowly and cautiously toward the Manta Ray Lounge where the broken device still sits. ] I think it has the power to make this part of the city rise; that's what Atlas wants. We aren't connected to the rest of Rapture and he needs an out.
[ She isn't afraid of Columbia anymore, of Songbird, of Comstock. Still, she'd like for the trip to be as quick as they can make it. ]
[ He follows, careful to move slowly and avoid making noise, as she does, and when they pass by a dead body, he pauses long enough to check it over. He's rewarded for his efforts: there's a pistol in the man's hand, still fully loaded, and Booker takes it for himself, already feeling a bit better for being armed.
Even so, most of his attention is still on what she's saying, not their surroundings. He frowns, catching up to Elizabeth and speaking quietly. If they can avoid the Splicers' notice... ]
So what happens to Columbia, then? Does it just fall out of the sky?
[ A beat. ]
Actually...you know what, that's a pretty good plan.
[ He's armed, she notices out of the corner of her eye, and frowns. She knows he won't let her keep them both safe (not that she can, anyway), but doesn't like the idea of him, in this reality, doing any more killing. ]
That isn't the only Particle in the city. They're placed all around to keep things in balance. We only need one.
[ And thank goodness for that. She doesn't want to spend a second longer in the floating city than they have to. ]
[ He notices that little frown of disapproval, and blatantly ignores it. Whatever she's playing at, trying to protect his innocence or whatever she's doing, he's got no use for it. He's got to keep the both of them safe, and if that means firing a few bullets, it won't be the first time.
He shakes his head at her explanation. It's not that he doesn't believe her, but hearing her talk about all this as if it's normal...well, it still sounds pretty crazy. ]
[ Not entirely. Not anymore, as a completely vulnerable human being. But, she has a plan, knows where she has to go and where it will end. That's enough, for now.
The outside doors of the lounge are unguarded, but that only makes her uneasy. Rightfully so; just as they begin to step out in the open to approach, she hears heavy footfall nearby. Elizabeth catches him by the sleeve, painted nails curling into the fabric, eyes wide and warning. A low rumble-like moan echoes around them.
The Big Daddy is coming in their general direction, but as long as they don't move from where they're out of view, then...
[ This isn't just another Splicer; he doesn't need Elizabeth to tell him that much. The ground shakes with the creature's every footfall, and Booker ducks down next to her, clutching his pistol tightly and wishing he had something with a lot more firepower.
Elizabeth's eyes are wide with terror, and he's smart enough not to try to sneak a glance at this new enemy. Not yet, anyway. It seems to be getting closer.
They're called Big Daddies. [ Her voice is barely audible; the thing will react to seeing them, not hearing them, or so she guesses. The finer workings of the creature are beyond her. ] They protect the -
[ But she waits to finish, trailing off; a small girl, just a child, ducks out from behind the behemoth, singing in a distorted voice, body odd and contorted, but perfectly carefree.
It isn't Sally, but the sight makes her seize up in silent anger which she has to quickly dissipate. I'm not alone anymore. ]
... Little Sisters. [ Seem familiar, Booker? The yellow lights of the Big Daddy glow tranquilly as it stomps ever closer, its young charge happy to be in its company. ] The girls - It's complicated, but they have ADAM. Like salts. They're power, and the splicers are addicted.
[ He can put two and two together. Why the girls need bodyguards. What might happen if their protectors are felled. ]
[ The unexpected sound of a child's voice is enough to make curiosity override self-preservation. Booker peers cautiously around the edge of the low wall they're crouched behind, staring with a kind of horrified fascination.
It's a little girl, without question. But her skin is grey and lifeless, and when she moves to better position herself next to the dead body on the floor, her glowing eyes flash and Booker inhales sharply.
That ain't human.
Not anymore, at least. He listens vaguely to what Elizabeth is saying. Honestly, he's not sure he wants to know, and yet...He stares, unable to look away, as the child gleefully jams a syringe into the body at her feet.
Only then does Booker's attention turn from the sick pastiche of a little girl to the hulking guardian standing over her. The Big Daddy moans as if in pain, the yellow lights of its helmet illuminating dark corners as it turns its head, and Booker ducks behind the wall again before it can turn its gaze on him, turning his head stiffly to look at Elizabeth. ]
Is that -
[ It's a struggle even to get the words out. God, please say it isn't so. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He can't help his exclamation of disbelief as the Splicer comes near and he gets a good look at his face, but Booker at least manages to keep it to a barely-audible murmur. It hardly matters, at any rate; Elizabeth fires her crossbow almost immediately, the dart bringing its target to the floor with hardly a sound.
Where did she learn to shoot like that? He's not sure what to react to first: the masklike, terrifying expression of the man now lying stunned at their feet, or the passionless efficiency with which Elizabeth had dispatched him. He stares at them both, momentarily taken aback, but the fact of the matter is that there's no time to dwell on either right now. Elizabeth is already moving on, and rightly so.
He glances down at the hand-drawn map, nodding in understanding, but it's not long before she throws him for a loop again. Paris? He frowns, shaking his head. He'd never said anything about Paris. ]
You went to Paris?
no subject
I was only a child. But there were bad people in Paris, selfish people, people who would gladly sell their children for food or other things. There were still murderers, racists, kidnappers, smugglers. It was hardly perfect.
Not even close.
Elizabeth makes her way around the body, not glancing at the man who'd fallen. ]
The man who sent me, who has Sally, [ She begins, looking at him, ] he's looking for--
[ But Elizabeth cuts off suddenly, stiffening. Not too far off is an angry droning sound and her hair stands on end as she realizes: buzzing. Sure enough, staring them down and swaying slightly, another Splicer stands nearby, bees crawling up, down, and through his arm. ]
no subject
He doesn't really miss the powers the Vigors had given him, most of the time. Better not to be able to light a person aflame with the flick of his wrist. But right now...right now, he'd give a lot for that, or for the ability to send a blast of water at the deranged creature standing in front of them. As it is, he's got nothing. No Vigors, no weapons.
The Splicer turns his head, looking at them curiously, and Booker stretches his hand back towards Elizabeth without taking his eyes off the enemy. ]
Give me the crossbow, Elizabeth.
no subject
No-- [ But she isn't sure. The Splicer watches them, muttering, stumbling closer, but not really enraged, as some of the others. Does he even see us? ] You don't need to fight anymore, to kill these people.
[ He's still killed, lived through Wounded Knee, lived Columbia even if it never happened. But, if she can keep him from it now, backwards though it seems... ]
We may be able to walk away; I'm not sure if he's lucid.
no subject
[ But he's watching the Splicer closely, and he thinks she may be right. The man - if it still is a man - is moving gradually closer, but there's no purpose to his movements, and he doesn't seem to be aware of his surroundings.
If they can avoid attracting his attention, they may have a chance. ]
Back away slowly. Be ready to find cover.
[ He's still determined to protect her as well as he can, even without weapons or Vigors. He'll just have to find a way, if it comes to that. ]
no subject
The Splicer loses interest. He grumbles at them, then begins rummaging behind the bar for whatever he could possibly find there. God forbid a Little Sister arrive and tempt him. ]
There. [ She breathes, once they've turned a corner, pressing her back to the wall. ] For now, we're all right.
[ Generally speaking. ]
no subject
[ He looks around warily even once they're out of sight, alert for any additional visitors, but they seem to be alone. For the moment. He shakes his head. ]
This isn't going to work - Elizabeth, if I'm going to get us through this, I'll need some sort of a weapon.
[ Because that's why he's here, isn't it? To get them, to get her through this, and make sure she lives to see the end of it. It's not that he doesn't trust her skill with the crossbow. But his whole relationship with her, with Anna, has been as protector and guardian. In every universe. This is no different, changed though she may be. ]
Is there anything like that around here?
no subject
Elizabeth finally admits a sigh. ]
Yes, all right, there is. But--
[ Just then, the short-wave radio at her hip crackles to life. Almost immediately, a man older than Booker, older than Elizabeth, with a clear Irish accent sounds between them. ]
"You alright down there, darlin'? We don't have much of a bounty in the ways of time, if you haven't already figured that out, and I'm getting a bit antsy with all the silence on your end."
[ Wide-eyed, she looks to Booker, raising a finger to her lips. Don't speak. ]
I'm working on it. [ She chews on her lips, glancing around. ] If it was that easy, I imagine you'd have gotten it yourself.
[ The Irish voice chuckles, but there's no warmth or humor in it. ]
You've got that right. Just make sure you keep focused, love. I'd hate for anything to happen to your little friend, here.
[ The line goes dead. Elizabeth sighs deeply, looking more wearied than ever before. ]
That's the man whose job needs doing. Atlas.
no subject
He sounds pleasant.
[ And he's got Sally. Is threatening her, using her to keep Elizabeth in line. Combined with the familiar tone he uses with Elizabeth, the clear uneasiness and weariness in her expression as she responds...Booker dislikes this "Atlas" already. She shouldn't have to deal with anyone like that.
He raises his eyes to meet hers, an idea forming. ]
Why are you running around for this guy, Elizabeth? [ He's not really looking for an answer, though, and doesn't wait for one. ] You said you've got to save Sally. Well, if he's got her, then why don't we just go and take her back?
no subject
At the question, Elizabeth hesitates. ]
... It wasn't an option, before. He would have killed me without any trouble, and Sally, then, without another thought.
[ He only thinks he needs me because of you. Her head swims and she raises a hand to it, a headache throbbing against her palm. Her hallucination of Booker, more accurately, some representation of the knowledge she'd had and lost, had told her about Suchong. Without that, she'd be dead and gone in a very permanent way. ]
And it still can't be an option. I can't risk you not walking out of here, Booker. He has men everywhere, has numbers more than I'd thought. We don't stand a chance.
[ For all her faith in Booker, she's more afraid than confident. Terrified that her mission will be the reason he doesn't return home again. What twisted irony would it be to have her be the reason he and Anna would be separated?
No. Never, not ever. ]
no subject
More men than Comstock had? More than an entire city fighting for him?
[ He frowns when she puts a hand to her head, reaching out to touch his fingers briefly to her temple before drawing his hand back. ]
We didn't stand a chance there either, but we made it anyway. We can do the same here.
no subject
No. This isn't the same place, it isn't-- we have no tears, no fallback in that they were trying to capture me, and not kill me. If he so much as sees that I've been lying to him, he may kill Sally outright. And--
[ When he'd withdrawn his hand, she'd noticed: no AD. Nothing carved into the skin.
The ironclad determination closes around her heart. ]
Searching for items is one thing, but I won't risk your life in a brawl with Atlas. I can't let that happen.
no subject
[ But the tears had helped. And Elizabeth had never been in danger of being killed, even after Songbird had taken her back to Comstock.
He frowns, noting the way she speaks of him. I won't risk your life. She'd never talked that way back in Columbia. She'd never worried about him. ]
You don't have to protect me, Elizabeth. I've survived a lot.
no subject
[ No, she's always worried about him. He'd been her protector, after all, and then her friend. Then something more than that, whatever it was. Her confidante, her savior?
I have to repay what you've done for me. Don't you understand that? ]
I know that. But sometimes, we were lucky. If anything happened--
[ She shakes her head firmly. ]
If you won't listen to me, then think of Anna. You have to go back to her.
no subject
But Elizabeth doesn't belong here either. She deserves better than this dank, dangerous place, working for a man who'd kill her as soon as look at her. He takes her hands in his larger ones, squeezing them gently.
What choice do we have? ]
...What does he want you to do?
no subject
Elizabeth squeezes his hands back, then releases them slowly. ]
I need to find a CO2 scrubber. [ beat ] ... There's a Lutece device in a lab here that I'm trying to repair.
[ And however did it get down here? He'll have more questions than she does answers, but the simple response has always been the same: constants and variables. ]
Once I fix it... it'll take us back to Columbia. I'm not sure which one.
no subject
[ And he'd thought this couldn't get any worse. Booker shakes his head, not at all pleased with this new development. Speaking of constants... ]
Why? What's back in Columbia?
no subject
[ She isn't afraid of Columbia anymore, of Songbird, of Comstock. Still, she'd like for the trip to be as quick as they can make it. ]
no subject
Even so, most of his attention is still on what she's saying, not their surroundings. He frowns, catching up to Elizabeth and speaking quietly. If they can avoid the Splicers' notice... ]
So what happens to Columbia, then? Does it just fall out of the sky?
[ A beat. ]
Actually...you know what, that's a pretty good plan.
no subject
[ He's armed, she notices out of the corner of her eye, and frowns. She knows he won't let her keep them both safe (not that she can, anyway), but doesn't like the idea of him, in this reality, doing any more killing. ]
That isn't the only Particle in the city. They're placed all around to keep things in balance. We only need one.
[ And thank goodness for that. She doesn't want to spend a second longer in the floating city than they have to. ]
no subject
He shakes his head at her explanation. It's not that he doesn't believe her, but hearing her talk about all this as if it's normal...well, it still sounds pretty crazy. ]
I sure hope you know what you're doing.
no subject
[ Not entirely. Not anymore, as a completely vulnerable human being. But, she has a plan, knows where she has to go and where it will end. That's enough, for now.
The outside doors of the lounge are unguarded, but that only makes her uneasy. Rightfully so; just as they begin to step out in the open to approach, she hears heavy footfall nearby. Elizabeth catches him by the sleeve, painted nails curling into the fabric, eyes wide and warning. A low rumble-like moan echoes around them.
The Big Daddy is coming in their general direction, but as long as they don't move from where they're out of view, then...
We can't take him with the weapons we have. ]
Don't let him see you.
no subject
Elizabeth's eyes are wide with terror, and he's smart enough not to try to sneak a glance at this new enemy. Not yet, anyway. It seems to be getting closer.
Shit. ]
What the hell is that thing?
no subject
[ But she waits to finish, trailing off; a small girl, just a child, ducks out from behind the behemoth, singing in a distorted voice, body odd and contorted, but perfectly carefree.
It isn't Sally, but the sight makes her seize up in silent anger which she has to quickly dissipate. I'm not alone anymore. ]
... Little Sisters. [ Seem familiar, Booker? The yellow lights of the Big Daddy glow tranquilly as it stomps ever closer, its young charge happy to be in its company. ] The girls - It's complicated, but they have ADAM. Like salts. They're power, and the splicers are addicted.
[ He can put two and two together. Why the girls need bodyguards. What might happen if their protectors are felled. ]
no subject
It's a little girl, without question. But her skin is grey and lifeless, and when she moves to better position herself next to the dead body on the floor, her glowing eyes flash and Booker inhales sharply.
That ain't human.
Not anymore, at least. He listens vaguely to what Elizabeth is saying. Honestly, he's not sure he wants to know, and yet...He stares, unable to look away, as the child gleefully jams a syringe into the body at her feet.
Only then does Booker's attention turn from the sick pastiche of a little girl to the hulking guardian standing over her. The Big Daddy moans as if in pain, the yellow lights of its helmet illuminating dark corners as it turns its head, and Booker ducks behind the wall again before it can turn its gaze on him, turning his head stiffly to look at Elizabeth. ]
Is that -
[ It's a struggle even to get the words out. God, please say it isn't so. ]
- Is that what happened to Sally?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)