[Thread] Fractured

[would_u_kindly]

Characters: Atlas/Frank Fontaine (AU), Gaz Membrane (OU)
Where: somewhere out of sight/any usual place to be (behind the buildings?)
When: way backdated; sometime after this post, later that night
Summary: Gaz finds Fontaine. Confrontation. (of a different sort.) Time to say "nighty nighty" Frankie...
Warnings: Probably, something... violent? Curse

Comments

[gaz4prez]

Gaz waited in the cemetery, not ceasing to be her favorite spot just because she was attacked by the Keepers there. A minor setback, small. She could care less about that for now. Keiji had been administering to her pain, and she loved him all the more for it, but there were still things that she had to do. That man Fontaine and Atlas were still about and she had a score to settle.

The night air did not freeze her to her bones as expected: it just made her alert. People had gotten the idea because of the ambush that she was just some weak little girl, and that was cute, really, even served her purpose. No one expected little girls to have an assemblage of Dark matter at her will, or to sense dual personalities or have the ability to shield things. That was for the magicians in Econtra wasn't it, those with big mouths or of diminutive personalities, in all shapes and sizes but really all the same to her. She'd been here longer than most of them, and many of these so-called magicians never even knew of Yuuko, the space-time witch, the only woman Gaz would have call "Sensei" and not feel a lick of shame. Gaz remembered, and Yuuko had granted the wish she made two years earlier. She was stronger, she was quick and she was a clairvoyant.

Now was just a matter of following the aura. It came to her now, and she didn't bother trying to hide anything anymore. She floated quick style, and in a few minutes found Fontaine/Atlas behind some buildings. Gaz hovered a moment, then descended lightly, touching down right in front of the man/men.

"Told ya I'd be back," she muttered. "So let's see exactly how fake your better half is."

[would_u_kindly]

Fontaine stopped pacing abruptly and looked up in surprise. The expression didn't last long as it turned into a sneering frown indicating more annoyance or scorn than anything else. If there was one thing radiating from the man on the ground right now it was pure and utter hatred.

Atlas wasn't to be found. This much emotion... it pushed the secondary personality aside.

"Well, well, well. The little Splicer-wannabe is back for more," he said arrogantly, hiding anything else within his voice that might leak out unwanted with pure efficiency. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

[gaz4prez]

Gaz wasn;t going to be deterred, or even annoyed by Fontaine's attitude: quite the opposite. Gaz understood her problem the last time she faced him, besides having to content with Selphie: she was too baited by talk. Gaz should have really known better than that: she was less of a talker, and more of a doer anyway.

"If you say so," Gaz said, and the dark matter she was used to using as tentacle extensions came out, but for a different function. This time, she aimed directly at Fontaine, and connected at him. Gaz sucked her breath in, not a little nervous. She knew that what was going to happen was going to take a hell of a lot out of her if she failed, probably enough to leave her worse than when she was found underground and when she was hit by the Keepers combined. Worse, she had never done it before, but she trusted in Yuuko's granting.

The darkness that she saw seemed to fade to a super darkness, and Gaz could no longer see anything, but that was expected. She felt a thrill of goosebumps at her skin, which was also something she expected.

[[OOC: Gaz is performing a "mindscape," in which she is seeing what is in Fontaine right now. Since you're his MUN, its up to you what she sees.]]

[would_u_kindly]

At first there was nothing but a deep, black darkness that enveloped all the senses. Then a slow redness began to flood in like seeping blood. Images began to flash in front of her "floating" psyche as she moved deeper within his consciousness. They were scenes from Rapture mostly, unfamiliar and confusing scenes for anyone not native to the underwater city, and a few from the Bronx of his time as a tough teenager trying to rise in the ranks of the gangs there. The general consensus of the memories were bloody battles, screams and death throes, and the elated feeling of victory. It was all brief and quick, distorting to the watcher as they made little to no sense, and none of it was in order. A hazy image of water through a thick window, the sound of a large man dressed in metal stomping around, the end of a gun battle in an alleyway of the Bronx, a strike of lightning from a person's hand, a floating wine bottle moving towards a lounging man, a stream of blood flowing into a gutter, the smell of an expensive cigar being smoked, men and women laughing at a party, the sound of a whale passing by very closely, an old convertible car passing on a dirty street in the Bronx, a meeting of two gang leaders taking place in a gentleman's club, a man standing unharmed in the middle of a raging fire, an ugly little girl screaming for a "Mr. Bubbles" to save her from the lady advancing with a knife in her hand, a group of thugs surrounding an unarmed man, a dark tunnel made of thick glass leaking in water from the outside, a young boy who aged much too quickly, the phrase "would you kindly" floating through the air visually in blood and verbally with an Irish accent, dying fish flopping haplessly on a dock, a scalpel flashing in the bright overhead light, a group of bloody bodies being piled on top of each other, a gunshot going off in the dark, a bloody knife, a menacing laugh.

It could be noted, if she was truly paying attention to all of this, that the men and women who appeared in the memory flashes were wearing old fashioned clothing of mostly suits or button shirts with vests and proper dresses or skirts and blouses for most of the women and the old time show girl dresses for the less reputable. The buildings and vehicles and other noticeable objects were all obviously old. Basic knowledge from watching TV would probably be enough for her to guess the era was the 1950s or so.

The final image was very distinctive and would stick in her mind far longer than any of the others. It was a man looking into the mirror. His face was large and meaty, but ruggedly handsome with full cheeks and a strong chin. He had dark hair combed straight back. His eyes were dark and squinty and screamed deviousness to the outside world. If his features said anything about his ancestry it was an obvious mix of the large, nomadic Europeans that mostly took over the Bronx when the new world was first discovered. After a few seconds the image began to change but it was different from before; instead of a quick flash into another scene the image simply blurred slowly as the features of the face changed in the mirror. When the morphing was finished a completely different face stared back through the reflected eyes. The skin was slightly whiter and the hair was a lighter brown color though still slicked back in an almost similar fashion. There was the hint of a smile on the lips and laughter in the bright eyes. He also had a strong chin but it was less meaty and his cheekbones were prominent and high instead of thick and full. He was handsome in a more friendly manner. He would look familiar; it was the Irishman.

In the end the mirror would break, spreading a spiderweb of cracks through the glass until the separate pieces finally grew large enough to begin breaking off and falling away. Then there was nothing again. A void of black--but there seemed to be light coming from somewhere, an indeterminable direction.

[would_u_kindly]

Nothing happened after that. But if she was keen enough she could vaguely just know things about the man whose mind she was invading. Know that Fontaine was telling the truth--that the man born into the world some forty years ago was Frank Fontaine. That he had moved to Rapture and took over the underworld in a single fell swoop of power. That Fontaine had urged and supported the engineering of scientific concoctions called Tonics and Plasmids that granted nigh supernatural powers. That when his enemies had gotten too close Fontaine had faked his own death and returned as a man only known as "Atlas." That he changed his appearance with surgery and played around with his voice until he found the perfect tone. That he used this fake persona to fool those around him into trusting him and relying on him. That he was close to achieving his ultimate goal of destroying his enemy and taking over Rapture. And that Atlas was the entire reason.

The final bit of information floated in the back of her mind as all this happened, as all of this came to her, was how Atlas was created into a separate personality. A freak accident with a new Plasmid; Fontaine in the midst of it; awaking with Atlas's made-up memories as his own and nothing of Fontaine's entire very real life; two weeks later the man's arrival in Econtra. And that was the entirety of it. Atlas was not real.

But he had been created nonetheless.

[gaz4prez]

Gaz was quiet and waited patiently. She hadn't expected that, of course, but she also wasn't exactly shocked either. That malice she felt was what she'd sensed when she'd been buried: that willingness toward making an enemy feel vulnerable, that unnecessary act toward someone he barely knew: it had been that evil that had borne hate instead of fear in Gaz, and she was a girl who, despite losing her Darkness, could hold hate for a very long time. It was that hate that had made her wait for him now, that hate that simply waited, a hate she remembered one. She had been Dark then, and thought under the influence, held her own against a vampire bent on teaching her a lesson. He hadn't realized what he was fighting, and neither did Fontaine.

"That's it?" Gaz sneered. "You gotta be kidding me. I mean, really, that's why you're this way? God, and here I thought I was dealing with, like, real evil! You're not even worthy of Joker, at least he shows his face! You know why I hate guys like you? You bring out these annoying, pathetic self righteous hero types wherever you go, trying to rid the world of evil! I know evil exists, hell, I've fought it since I can remember! But you couldn't even stay Fontaine, you had to CHANGE to Atlas? That's called running scared, and its for two bit phonies! At least Atlas has the guts to fight you!"

Gaz started to pulsate purple now. There was a time this power was a hazard: Dark could be unleashed, and Gaz's emotions were always in a state of flux. But she was concentrated now to the point of feeling almost distant of her small stature. After all, she could channel energy now without the need of dancing or ONLY anger. She could simply stay determined.

"Atlas is your better half," Gaz finally said. "He deserves the life you're wasting. You're just another mindless storybook villain waiting to get your balls handed to you. You just thought it'd be fun to hide as Atlas instead of even taking pride in your chaos. It's pathetic!"

[would_u_kindly]

"I do not hide--I plan. And plans don't fail, unlike foolish chaotic nonsense that psychopaths create," Fontaine said aloud. He didn't know how to play mind games; the closest he came to telekinetic powers was the telekinesis he got from one of his Plasmids. He hardly thought about that when he preformed the necessary actions, so mental concentration wasn't his strong point. Not in battle. His schemes on the other hand...

He was a genius at being evil, unfortunately.

He started a flame in his hand and pointed the opposite at Gaz. "Stop playing games and let the real battle begin," he prompted.

Unbeknownist to him, however, within the mind another scene was taking place. Though Fontaine knew nothing of mental battles and was, currently, in no position to control the field, something did happen. The light in the darkness began to coalesce in a single direction, and after another moment from that direction a single, wall-less door appeared out of nowhere. It was right in front of Gaz and though it was closed it seemed to be beckoning. Whatever it was, or however it got there... it was not Fontaine's doing.

[gaz4prez]

Gaz had interfaced with Fontaine for a reason: she waned to get to Atlas. This guy wasn't good: he was far too Dark for her tastes, to concentrated on misery. Though she looked as if she were fighting gung-ho, Gaz liked having that ruse. The reality was she needed to get to the man inside Fontaine, go beyond the walls of this malicious guy and find that other self that had grown unbeknown to him.

After all, Dark and Devi, manifestations of herself, were still there in a way, but they existed in different dimensions too. Gaz knew that there were different worlds out there thanks to Yuuko, and she believed it possible for certain people to create different selves. For someone like Fontaine, there had to be a sort of foil, one who had good intention.

And she headed for the door because if there was a chance to bring him out, she had to take it.

[would_u_kindly]

The door opened without prompting from Gaz as she approached it. Beyond was pure, blinding light. A moment passed, and the light finally subsided into a new scene.

There were memories here, too. Fake ones. But they were what comprised Atlas into who he was. A family. A wife. A son. A house. A job at the fishery. Fun memories, sad memories. Little things. Big things. Not always too much detail though. They floated by peacefully for a few seconds and then there was nothing.

Atlas appeared in another doorway up ahead. He was leaning up against the door-frame in a seemingly relaxed manner, an Irish style friendly smile on his lips. He seemed kind enough. His eyes almost twinkled with mischievousness--but nothing like Fontaine.

He sobered. "I found out the truth. I don't like it, but I have to accept it." Pause. "What does that do for your cause?" He didn't elaborate further on what he meant.

[gaz4prez]

Gaz watched everything in stride. It was hard to tell what the small girl was thinking: she always had a way of maintaining a look of indifference. For the most part, she was definitely beginning to see a clearer picture. She was seeing the Atlas in Fontaine, and saw that this other life, this fake one, was not unlike a person she'd known a year ago here, like those connected to that one Sora kid. It had been a weird kind of experience Gaz would have been skeptical about if she hadn't had to deal with it personally.

Gaz approached the man Atlas and leaned against the doorway, several inches away. "The truth is what I'm looking for, but not the way you're looking at it now. I'm thinking more in the way of possible truths, and more than one way of looking at things, but you misunderstand something. It's YOUR cause more than mine, but I aim to make it something you can get to."

[would_u_kindly]

Atlas followed Gaz with his head, an amused twinkle in his eye despite the serious moment. He stayed leaning against the opposite frame, his arms crossed over his chest now. He nodded his head once in a sort of acknowledgement.

"My cause is just to stop Fontaine. Doesn't matter how. I don't want him hurting anyone; I was a protector, at least that's how I conducted myself. But the truth is the truth. As far as the future goes... now that is another story." He paused only briefly. "If you want to defeat him, and involve degrading the chap by forcing him out of his own existence, I think that means all the more to you. That's how I see it at least. I'm just looking for an end. You're the one with the power here. I can't scratch him. Trust me--I've tried."

[gaz4prez]

Gaz scratched her chin. He had a point there, at least for now. He wasn't able to take on Fontaine by himself. He needed to become stronger for that, and Fontaine only created Atlas as a persona, not as an escape. The situation was going to be trickier than she thought.

"I get that," she said, "But I'm gonna need your help. I can eventual fight Fontaine here: I've had to do something like this before. The mind is a pretty fucked up place when you get down to it, but it also knows what it wants. Still, you know Fontaine best of all. If were going to strike out at him, where would we go?"

[would_u_kindly]

Atlas listened to her words, and in the end his expression changed to something of approval and satisfaction. She knew what she wanted, and she knew what she needed to get it. He admired that. He nodded again before getting a thoughtful look on his face.

"Hard to say actually..." Atlas began, truthfully, "...he has more than one hidey hole--about as many as he does in the real world, back in Rapture. Like a rat." He paused for a moment. "But if I had to guess the first location to search?" He waved his hand in a 'come with me' gesture and led them through the door.

The scene changed instantly into one more solid. To Atlas the place was very familiar, and his home. It was an old looking set of docks. Most of the water, however, seemed to be missing. At least from this area; plenty of it could be heard coming from somewhere else.

He led them past this setting and deeper into the fisheries. Warehouses, alleyways, and other dark places ruled the area. He stopped in front of a side door down an alley to one particular warehouse and turned to face her. "...I'd say here."

He glanced at the building. "...It's the beginning..." He whispered to no one.

[gaz4prez]

Gaz could have admired the decor. Try as she might in Econtra, and despite her change in personality, cemeteries and places generally lacking much light were Gaz's preference to frequent. In any case, she wasn't surprised where it began would take place in this kind of setting: there was a certain rugged quality, definitely a place for the rough. She followed Atlas to the warehouse, and once they reached it, Gaz grit her teeth. A moment later she seemed to be submerged in a wall of purple, so dark that it blotted out any indication there was a person within. This lasted about thirty seconds before the wall gave way and it now looked like barbed wire encircling Gaz. It hovered an inch of her body before suddenly becoming translucent, and it pulsated and gave off purple sparks.

"Huh," Gaz said aloud, in a contained whisper. "So that's what I decided to project my aura power as. It's a little flashy, but hell, so's Econtra. In any case, I'm going in armed this way. It's kinda like putting on a metaphysical shield."

[would_u_kindly]

Atlas gave an understanding nod. He didn't know much about her type of power, but he very well understood the desire and need of defensives. No matter what kind. He thought for a moment and in the end switched to his lightning Plasmid. His left hand sparked with electricity.

He met her eyes for a readying silence, then opened the door and stepped quickly inside. Somewhat mimicking the police, he operated on a cover this side, you cover that, and rapidly stepped to the side so that Gaz could barge in right behind him.

His side: nothing.

[gaz4prez]

The moment that Gaz stepped through the warehouse,s he closed her eyes for a good ten seconds. It wasn't because Gaz could see with her eyes closed, but because she wanted to sense her surroundings. She could feel vibrations moving all around them, but that was only just a distraction: vibration, after all, existed all the time. It was the irregularity that Gaz was looking for, the what-doesn't-belong-here sense.

And she turned to her side, her eyes opened, her hands moving like lightning to let loose a purple bolt. She was becoming much more accustomed now: it was as if she left her fear once entering Fontaine's mind, and the concept of getting scared now seemed far away.

She had a job to do.