Rapture, Saturday Afternoon Fandom Time (NFB)
Arcadia
Arcadia was, at least, a welcome change to the ugliness of Fort Frolic. No plaster corpses here. Just lush, soothing greenery. If you ignored the blue-green light and pretended, you could imagine yourself somewhere that wasn't Rapture at all.
Maybe the sights would at least help to calm everyone's jangling nerves.
Of course, there were still splicers lurking around every corner. Et in Arcadia ego.
Raven
"Oh," Raven said softly, looking around. "I can see why folks would decide to hide out here. It's almost pretty."
It'd be more than almost, if it were anywhere but Rapture.
Anders
"It is pretty, if you ignore there are probably people who want to kill us behind every door," Anders said morbidly. "Eleanor, what is this place?"
Joker
"Air," Joker cut in, over the radio. "Simpler, easier, and cheaper than high-tech carbon scrubbers. Also, food. And a pretty place to walk your dog. You want a city to be completely self-contained? You need yourself a shitload of plants. We had one of these on Arcturus, too."
Eleanor
"Clever," Eleanor said. "That's the whole point of Arcadia. A little garden inside the rest of the city, so we don't have to import food. It's a smart place for anyone to be hiding, prettiness notwithstanding."
She sighed. "Now, we just have to find --"
No, now they just had to deal with more splicers. It was like the city was mass-producing them, at this point.
Jono
//We'll have to table that one for now,// Jono noted, stepping forward with a roll of his eyes. The splicers were getting no less horrifying, true enough, but after a while one started to wonder if there would ever be an end to them. //Stay close, don't get lost in the trees, mates.//
He let loose a whirl of flame toward the first splicer to show its face before it could even get close. He wasn't in any mood to get shot at again, thank you.
Raven
Raven shifted and spun the pipe she picked up from the first splicer attack.
She'd worry later about how quickly the idea of bashing these guys heads in stopped bothering her.
"How many?"
Celia
The trees -- pretty though they were -- were going to end up making Celia's life a bit difficult, here. She didn't exactly feel great about magically whipping a tree out of the ground to throw at a splicer, but she didn't see how she had much choice, either.
For the moment, though, she just started solidifying the air again, trying to protect them as best she could.
Anders
Anders stepped to the side of the solidifying air when he realized what Celia was doing. He appreciated the effort to protect them, but he wasn't sure his spells would work properly from behind someone else's magical barrier.
Of course, being unprotected made him an easier target for the splicers currently charging through a stream of water to get to them. Anders fumbled for his staff and discharged another lightning bolt, hoping to hold off the splicers.
Splicers
The lightning bolt hit the stream and arced through it, grounding itself in anything -- say, for example, all of those splicers -- that happened to be in the water.
In unison, they all started convulsing as the lightning coursed through them. Sparks crisscrossed their skin, and they slowly collapsed Within a few moments, they were all charred and smoking a little, despite all the water.
Well, that was the end of THAT combat sequence.
Raven
Raven straightened, lowering her pipe. She was almost -- almost -- disappointed.
"Anything else on the horizon?" she asked. "Or are we clear?"
Eleanor
Eleanor couldn't help it; she laughed.
"Brilliant," she said. "Utterly brilliant. Father loved that trick. I didn't know you'd electricity at your disposal, or I might have suggested it sooner."
Man
Their jubilation (or disappointment) was going to be short-lived.
"Stay back!" called a voice from within the trees. The person was hidden, but sounded male, and even sane. "Splicers aren't welcome in Arcadia!"
He'd been watching the advancing leadheads and setting traps, only to stumble upon these people. How much more dangerous were splicers that still sounded sane? That could converse and travel in a pack?!
Raven
Raven snorted. "Then it's a good thing we took care of that hoard of them for you!" she called back. She'd've given credit where it was due, but she didn't know if they wanted to give these people their names, yet, and calling Anders "the guy with the lightning stick" seemed rude.
Jono
The telepathic guy with his half-missing ragged mess of a face on fire probably wasn't helping the situation much, come to think of it.
Jono immediately ducked his head and tried to pull his jacket closed in an attempt to hide the worst of the flames.
//Can't imagine where he'd get that idea, though,// he muttered in an aside to the rest of the group alone.
Celia
Celia, well aware that she was probably the least threatening-looking person here, stepped forward with her hands up in a gesture of peace. (It wouldn't much matter if her hands were up or down, if she had to use her magic, after all.) "We're not splicers," she called, trying to find the speaker amongst the trees. "You have nothing to fear from us."
Well, probably. That might turn out to be a lie, depending on who these people were.
Anders
"I promise I'm not a splicer," Anders called out guiltily. It didn't take much thought to realize the voice had swiftly followed his fatal lightning strike, and no one else had been doing much of anything. "Just a mage. You could even touch my staff if you want to make sure."
The possible double entendre flew far above his head.
Man
There was now a face, where the man was. An older gentleman, somewhat pudgy, who was thoroughly unconvinced. But perhaps willing to listen.
"How can your staff prove you ain't a splicer?" he asked. "You threw that bolt. I seen it."
Anders
"I'm a mage," Anders explained. "The staff channels my magic. Without it I can't do a single thing with electricity. Promise."
He tried to look boyish and innocent, but also as though he knew what he was talking about. It was a complicated look;it was easier to pull off when you hadn't killed a dozen in the last hour or so.
Man
"Magic ain't real," the man informed him. "Now, I ain't saying you're lying, but how do I know you ain't lying? I'm sick of being lied to, you understand?"
Eleanor
Bloody hell. These people might know where Grace was. If they were who Stanley said they were, then she would have to play this card sooner or later.
She had just been hoping for later.
"He's with me," she said, stepping forward enough that the man could get a decent look at her. "You know who I am, don't you?"
If he dropped to his knees and genuflected, she was going to murder everyone in this forest, Grace or no Grace.
Man
Thankfully for everyone involved, the man didn't seem inclined to genuflect. He stared for a long moment, as if he wasn't sure what to do.
"Miss Eleanor," he said, finally. "We had heard that you'd gotten out."
It was rather awkward, to be face-to-face with the girl you'd believed to be a Messiah. Especially now that you had changed your mind.
"You'd better come with me."
Eleanor
The pudgy man led them deeper into Arcadia, past the Tea Garden and Waterfall Grotto, deep into the Rolling Hills.
It was peaceful, here. Quiet. There were traps around the perimeter that did a decent job of keeping splicers at bay. Sometimes they failed, but the people made do.
A few whispered conversations seemed to satisfy the residents as to their credentials, and they were taken in to see a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties.
"Are you in charge here?" Eleanor asked, hoping to have this over with as quickly as possible.
Theodora
"There is no 'in charge' the way you are thinking," replied the dark-haired woman. "We work together. Not the way your Mother taught, but each supporting each other as we see fit."
So, they did know who Eleanor was, then.
"My name is Theodora. Welcome to our sancutary."
Joker
"Are we sure they've reformed?" Joker muttered to himself. "Sound a little nuts still, to me."
Eleanor
"We're looking for Grace Holloway," Eleanor said. None of the rest of it was worth replying to. "Is she here, with you?"
Theodora
"Grace is not with us, no," Theodora replied. "She is welcome among us, as well she knows. She comes to trade food with us."
She looked as though there was more she'd like to say, but she stopped herself. "Why are you seeking her?"
Celia
"Food?"
It was not very delicate, or Victorian, or ladylike of Celia, the way she'd reacted like a half-starved puppy to that word. But she was weak from magical overexertion, she'd thrown up everything she had in her already, and the idea of just sitting down somewhere safe and eating something sounded so nice that she might cry.
Sorry, Eleanor.
Theodora
"Your companions are hungry," Theodora noted. "We have enough food here to share."
But there was something left unspoken; the equation hung in the air, unbalanced.
Eleanor
"But," Eleanor said, sharply. She tried to glare at Celia, but remembered all of the vomiting that her friend had done in Fort Frolic and couldn't find it in herself to be angry. "But of course, there's a price, isn't there?"
Raven
"We don't have a lot we can offer," Raven said. "But --" And she shot a look back at Eleanor -- it was her show, but Raven wasn't above reminding her to let the others do what they needed, as well. "-- if there's something we can provide, we're willing."
Theodora
"There's always a price," Theodora said philosophically. "I doubt if I claimed the virtue of altruism, that you'd trust me more for it."
Eleanor
The woman had a point. Had she talked about the Greater Good, Eleanor already would have fled.
Maybe she needed to stop being so antagonistic and actually try trusting someone down here. She glanced over at her big sibling (for moral support, more than anything) before turning her eyes back to the woman and nodding.
"All right," she said. "We came back to rescue Grace. We've a sub at our disposal. My friends are hungry. We deal well with splicers, if you need any cleared out from here. Let's come to some kind of an agreement."
Raven
Raven gave Eleanor a tiny smile and nod in return. She was good at support, moral or otherwise.
And if these people ended up turning on them -- well. They'd deal with that if it happened. They'd gotten this far, after all. She had full confidence they'd handle whatever else Rapture threw at them.
Theodora
"An agreement," Theodora nodded. Her eyes had lit up, at the word sub, but she was controlling herself, with some effort. "Here is what I suggest. Stay here, safe within Arcadia's walls. You may feast upon our bounty, you and your companions. And in exchange ..."
Here she betrayed some flicker of excitement. She bit her lip and started again.
"I will be frank," she said. "That much, a meal and a safe haven, you could claim as your due, for the wrong we have caused you."
Forcing a teenage girl to be a reluctant Messiah. Allowing her mother to perform experiments. It was hard to apologize for such things. Perhaps they could take the apology as given and move forward.
"But we would be forever grateful if -- if you might help those in our number who wish to leave," she said, finally. "This is our home, but some are unhappy. They long for the surface. Can you grant them this desire?"
Eleanor
Somehow, Eleanor found herself liking Theodora more for making it a request. She couldn't say for sure how she felt about the idea. On the one hand, fine, if Mother's followers were unhappy down here, they could be unhappy and suffer like everyone else.
On the other ... Mother's former followers. Didn't everyone deserve the chance to repent? To seek forgiveness? Father had taught her to show mercy. Maybe mercy meant opening the door for others to leave this abysmal hellhole.
There were other considerations, however. Such as their pilot being ... well, breakable, which meant any such contingency would need an escort. And, further, the fact that Eleanor didn't want to announce how vulnerable their pilot was, lest those in earshot get any ideas. She may be starting to respect Theodora, but that didn't mean she trusted her.
"Joker?" Eleanor asked, into her earpiece. Maybe he could phrase the concern that she couldn't. Really, any of his thoughts would be welcome.
Joker
Not helping them wasn't really an option, especially not with Eleanor leaving it up to him like that.
"Well, it'll be a tight squeeze... how many are we talking? I'm not sure we can take them all back to Fandom, unless someone has a Bag of Holding." Joker considered the options. "I could run 'em up to the lighthouse, might take more than one trip... but not all by my lonesome. Fragile pilot, expensive sub... you see where I'm going with this. I'd need someone big and strong riding shotgun, and then I could fit... Ten? Fifteen? More, if they don't mind getting close and personal. Less, if they want to bring along things like food, and blankets."
Jono
//If the group of us is intent on stopping for food, I could head up along with you,// Jono intoned. //I'm not exactly hungry.//
Plus he figured he looked terrifying enough to serve as a deterrent to any potential submarine-jackings, or harm to the pilot.
Eleanor
Eleanor took a moment to send a quiet Thank you to Jono, not sure if he would receive it or not. Maybe the quick flash in her eyes would say it for her.
She turned back to Theodora, all business.
"The lighthouse, and no further," she said firmly. "Your people need to be ready in fifteen minutes. If they try anything once they're on the sub, their lives are forfeit, and I wouldn't like your chances, either."
She was willing to negotiate, if they needed more time, but it felt better to set boundaries and then be talked back into something more reasonable.
"And Grace?"
Theodora
"Fifteen minutes," Theodora agreed. It was a gift. She could appreciate that, and accept it on its own terms. "We thank you, kindly."
She nodded to one of the women who'd been standing by, idly listening, and the woman left the room. Presumably to spread the good news.
"Grace is in Neptune's Bounty," she added. "At last mention, she was staying at the Fighting McDonagh tavern. She may have moved to a different domicile, but she's still working on the docks."
Celia
"Then that's where we'll go." Celia had already helped herself to a seat, and was trying not to look too anxious at the idea of food. "Once we've recuperated a little."
She hated to be the one dragging the group down, forcing them to stay here if they didn't want to, but surely she wasn't the only one who needed a break.
Maybe she could even sneak in a nap. That would do wonders for her magic -- otherwise, she wasn't sure she'd be much help, anyway.
Joker
"And after Jono and I get back," Joker cautioned. "Until then, you folks stay put, capisce? I know you're all eager to get Grace and get gone, but this is RnR time. Recharge."
Jono
//What he said,// Jono agreed. //I don't want to end up having to traipse around Rapture looking for you lot when we're finished, and I want you to be wandering out there short a person even less. Stay, eat, for the love of God get some rest, and we'll be back as soon as we can.//
Joker
"Now, I trust you all about as far as I can throw you," Joker told the small crowd, "which is why Mr. My-Face-Is-On-Fire is here. You want to see the sun again, you don't try anything stupid."
Jono
Jono's eyebrow twitched upwards slightly, but he gave a little nod of agreement.
//It'd be a bloody shame to get this far just to force me to reduce you to a pile of smoking ash,// he added, helpfully. //So, might I suggest you all keep your behinds where they're seated? I get twitchy around cultists.//
Personal hangup, there.
Former Cultist
"We're not that foolhardy," said one woman quietly. "We can't thank you enough, for your help. We've been trapped down there for years. We had nearly given up hope."
Joker
"Well, don't thank us just yet," Joker told her. "This train don't go any farther than the lighthouse. You got a radio, and enough supplies to last you until a boat comes?"
Former Cultist
"We'll make do," said the man standing next to her with a stiff nod.
Jono
//At this point, wandering lost up there still gives you more of a chance than hiding from splicers below,// Jono noted, nodding faintly. //We've got nothing to offer you to help you on your way, but considering you had no way up otherwise...//
He didn't feel particularly terrible about leaving them on the shore somewhere and then taking off again.
Joker
"And I'll radio Iceland, Norway, Ireland, and Britain. Between them, someone's bound to come for you."
Former Cultist
"It's more than we deserve," the first woman said again. "You are doing us all a great kindness. We won't forget it."
Arcadia
The residents of Arcadia wasted no time fulfilling their half of the bargain. Laid out on a long table were various fruits, vegetables, and breads. Most of the fare was light, but so much the better considering the traveling yet to go. (And how upsetting Rapture could be to the digestive system.)
Raven
Right, so Rapture wasn't exactly full of "downtime", and Raven had only really had a chance to take a look at the book's cover and the photo of Sofia on the inside, so far. Since they were taking a few moments to sit, though, it seemed like the perfect time to crack it open -- assuming it wouldn't ruin her appetite.
Ryan saw the individual as a hero, a noble survivor. And Rapture was his paradise, a shrine to the supremacy of the self. The result? Slavery, genocide, chaos. Now that the tyrant is dead, we are a true collective, a single Family.
"Sofia was kind of a communist, huh," she noted, flipping a few pages further and noting the continued use of the "collective" versus the "individual". "I'd say she would have gotten along with Stalin, but they'd probably have been too busy trying to kill each other for the 'good of the people'."
Eleanor
"She called herself a collectivist," Eleanor said. She had selected an apple, but couldn't bring herself to eat it. Maybe she didn't like the idea of eating the Arcadians' food. Silly, perhaps, but Persephone paid enough for pomegranate seeds. "It's largely the same thing. She said Stalin was morally bankrupt."
This, from someone who kidnapped and experimented on little girls. Mother's hypocrisy was rather grand.
Raven
"Near as I can tell, that's just another thing they had in common," Raven said. She wrinkled her nose as she skimmed through a section on evolution and genes. "I'd hate to see what she'd have to say about mutants. She's seems pretty anti anything a body does naturally."
Eleanor
"She's mostly anti-gene," Eleanor said. "Genes are where selfishness resides, apparently. She considered me a failure, for having been a Little Sister, until she realized she could use that for her own purposes. And then she was perfectly all right performing genetic experiments on her own daughter, while still claiming to be anti-gene. So long as she can cloak herself in the greater good, she can justify anything."
Raven
Raven snorted. "Genes are where everything resides. Did she get mad at eye color? The shape of people's feet?" She shook her head. "So many people think they can just make science up as they go along."
Eleanor
"Or bend it to fit their own preconceptions," Eleanor sighed. She felt suddenly restless. She stood up from the table and started to wander.
Truthfully, it bothered her that the sub was out of range. How ridiculous. She and Father had survived Rapture by themselves. She didn't need Joker's voice in her ear telling her how to make it out of here alive.
Maybe she just missed the moral support. Which was even worse.
"I see a vending machine," she said, rummaging through her pockets for some of the cash she'd taken from corpses. "I might have enough money for an extra first aid kit or two. Or are we low on bullets?"
Anders
"I say you get the first aid kits," Anders recommended grimly. He didn't particularly like the sub being out of range either -- if only because he could tell Eleanor didn't like it, and her moods were catching. "They're faster than waiting for me to heal everyone."
Eleanor
"We don't seem to be using the firearms, as it is," she agreed. "It never hurts to have bullets, but magic's a lot faster. We're better off --"
Her spine straightened, abruptly, just as she was putting money into the grotesque Circus of Values machine.
"She's here."
Raven
Raven turned in a circle -- she'd been doing a lot of that, watching out for splicers, if she wasn't careful she was going to get dizzy -- to look for a little girl. "Where? Can you tell?"
Celia
Celia was pulled away from where she'd been peering at the vending machine, turning wildly. "How close?"
Just because she didn't see her, of course, didn't mean the girl wasn't behind a wall or around a corner. Telepathy was an enviable gift in a place as cramped as Rapture.
Eleanor
Eleanor went very, very still, trying to re-establish the connection.
In the house of upside-down, cellar's floor, attic's ground
In the house of upside-down ...
"... laughing cries, and smiles frown," Eleanor muttered, under her breath. "Close. Very close. She's -- I know where that is. It's the amusement park."
And like that, she was running. She wasn't going to lose her again. Not when they were this close. Not when at any moment, Rapture could simply swallow her whole.
Eleanor
Ryan Amusements was not quite the paradise of fun that its name suggested. Andrew Ryan had put far less focus on things like rides and more on indoctrinating Rapture's youth into his capitalist philosophy.
The main feature was the (now-dilapidated) Journey to the Surface, which used animatronics to tell the story of how Rapture's elite had rejected the stifling life up on the Surface and founded paradise down here. Some of the animatronics still spouted off their lines, every ten minutes like clockwork for tour groups. The effect was made all the more uncanny in that many of them had limbs missing or wires exposed.
"She's in here somewhere," Eleanor muttered, ignoring the grotesque figures.
Anders
If Eleanor could ignore the creepy talking giant dolls, Anders could ignore the creepy talking dolls right along with her.
"Where should we start?" he asked, fruitlessly looking under the nearest place of furniture. "She won't come if we call for her, will she?"
Eleanor
"I used to be able to control them," Eleanor explained as she peered around the next corner. "I used them as my eyes and ears around the city. I'm too rusty, now. I can't seem to take her over and get her back to me."
Never mind the ethical concerns involved, in piloting someone as a mobile unit of your own consciousness.
Raven
Raven was surprisingly okay with the idea of just controlling a little girl to get her to safety. It was the sort of question she encountered all the time with Charles. When it came down to it, she was just fine with it all so long as the little girl in question wasn't her.
"Maybe suggest it? Quiet, like, so she thinks it's her idea."
Or, you know, ask, they could try that, too.
Eleanor
Eleanor tried reaching out, now, carefully. Not trying to scare her. Just encourage her to come close. Please. Don't be frightened. It's me.
For a flicker, a moment, she saw through the girl's eyes. Enough to see a large house, the roof of which was being lifted by a gigantic hand.
"This way," she said, opening her own eyes and taking off at full speed. She could find that house. So long as the girl stayed put ...
Celia
-- and there she went again.
Eleanor at full speed was quite a bit faster than Celia at any speed, ever, so she took off at a full clip as soon as Eleanor spoke, ignoring the stitch growing in her side and thanking whatever deity had convinced her not to wear a corset on this godforsaken trip.
At least they'd probably find the girl this way. And then -- what? And then whatever. That bit didn't matter, so much, just now.
Raven
Raven bolted after them, growing her legs a little as she went to give herself bigger strides. It wasn't perfect -- she'd never really needed to give herself a speed boost, before -- but she was at least a little faster than she was before.
Little Sister
The house in question was ramshackle; an animatronic mother and child stood on its small porch while an animatronic father hoed the land nearby. Gigantic, ominous hands reached down from the sky to pull the roof upwards, to steal what little the family had.
Standing directly next to a speaker which still blared its propaganda was a little girl, carrying a syringe and humming to herself.
Eleanor
Eleanor felt a flood of relief. She was here. They'd found her. Perfect. They were well overdue for something to go right.
"There you are," she said, dropping down to her knees and holding her arms out. "Can Big Sister have a hug?"
Little Sister
Big Sister didn't usually talk. And she wasn't wearing her helmet today, either. But she was still Big Sister, and Big Sister always got hugs.
"Okay," said the girl, in that double-octave voice. She toddled over uncertainly and put her arms around Big Sister's neck.
Eleanor
Eleanor gathered the little girl into her arms. "It's all right," she said, softly, as she straightened up. The girl was light. Hardly weighed anything at all. "You're with us, now. It's all going to be all right."
Little Sister
"I can't go with you," the girl mumbled. "Mr. Bubbles won't like that."
Eleanor
... oh, no.
"Mr. Bubbles?" Eleanor asked, her heart sinking down to her toes.
Big Daddy
Yes, Mr. Bubbles, who had been standing patiently on the other side of the "house", and who just now walked around to corner to see what the voices were. And what he saw was some girl with her hands all over his Little Sister. He didn't recognize Eleanor as a Big Sister without her helmet on -- and he might not have cared, anyway. This was his Little Sister.
He loomed threateningly and let out a low roar, giving the girl and her friends a single chance to realize their mistake and back away.
Little Sister
Big Sister still wasn't letting go, and now Mr. Bubbles was mad.
The Little Sister did the only thing she could do: she screamed.
Eleanor
The scream stirred Eleanor from her momentary panic.
"Run," she called, over her shoulder. She set the Little Sister down on the ground -- carefully, but bloody quickly. "Now!"
Big Daddy
Mr. Bubbles hadn't actually been mad, before. When his Little Sister screamed, then he got mad. The haze inside his helmet reacted to his mood, changing the glow coming from his portholes from yellow to an angry red.
The girl realized her mistake, now. She put the Little Sister down; she was trying to get away. Years ago, that would have been enough, but not now. Not when this was the only Little Sister left. No one touched her. No one! He slammed his drill into the floor, sending a disorienting shockwave rippling outward. He immediately charged, bringing the drill up to attack before she could recover.
Big Daddy
When the glow of the Big Daddy's helmet changed from yellow to red, that was a pretty good signal that the time for talking was over. He shook his drill arm at them menacingly and let out a loud, deep ROOOOOOOOOAWR. They weren't getting his baby!
Anders
Anders stepped back behind a pillar to try to buy some extra time to think.
"I don't suppose there's a way to call him off now, is there?"
Celia
"Doubtful," Celia called from where she was piecing together a forcefield -- solid air probably wouldn't hold him off long, but it'd buy them a moment or two to think. "I'm not sure he's exactly in a listening mood."
She was starting this fight exhausted -- the splicers had taken up a good chunk of her resources, already -- but her mind raced ahead. She was reminded of a territorial animal, protecting its young.
Which meant that there was probably nothing they could do, short of incapacitating him. Lovely.
Big Daddy
When the Big Daddy encountered the forcefield, he paused, confused. He turned from side to side, trying to see the barrier through the portholes that were now and forever his windows onto the world. How he could see anything was something of a mystery, considering the bioluminescent haze of pheromones that filled the space between his suit and the few bits of skin that weren't permanently bonded to it.
After brief consideration, he just decided to do what he did with any other barrier that got in his way: He spun up his drill and started bashing the hell out of it.
Celia
And unfortunately enough for Celia, she thought it might be a good idea to fling her arms out to try to keep the stupid thing in place a little longer.
The pain was immediate, blinding, and surreal. While Celia had broken her bones and lost blood before, she'd never quite encountered the strange feeling of having one's elbow abruptly struck by a spinning, sharp object of that size.
She didn't let herself register the pain, nor did she allow herself the luxury of staring at her arm's new, funny angle. She pressed out hard with magic instead, trying to telekinetically shove him away as she stumbled back with a howl she barely heard. It was nearly funny -- while normally, she might have thought that that degree of blinding pain and ensuing blood loss might make her magic cloudy or difficult to use, it was almost easier, stronger for it.
When everything else fell away, instinct kicked in.
Big Daddy
The Big Daddy staggered backward, but didn't fall over. He was heavy, in that suit, and hard to move.
He was also farther away from Celia, now, and there were other, more immediate threats that needed to be killed until they stopped moving. Celia would have to wait until they were dealt with, first.
Eleanor
Eleanor stepped forward, trying desperately to reason with their attacker.
"Stop it, stop it, stop it," she shrieked. "We gave her back! We aren't a threat to you! You don't have to do this!"
Big Daddy
She might as well try to reason with the sea, for all the good it would do her. They'd gotten between him and his Little Sister, and now they were going to be bloody paste smeared on the wall. That's all there was to it.
He leveled his drill, turned it on, and charged at her hard.
Raven
Yeah, Raven wasn't going to let that happen. She shifted -- probably as fast as she'd ever done it before in her life -- to match the thing (and by the way she would be noting later that that didn't look anything like a diving suit to her) and got right in its way.
She wasn't actually as dense and heavy as the Big Daddy was, so pure force-wise, there was no way this would work. But she was hoping it'd balk at least a little at barreling right at itself.
Big Daddy
The Big Daddy let out another roar, and swung his drill at the interloper. He was defending HIS little girl, and the other protector could just get the hell out of his way and find another one.
Raven
RIGHT SO THAT DIDN'T WORK.
Raven had barely enough time to get any vital organs out of the way before the drill hit. Her scream came out as more of a metallic screeching sound, and she brought up her own drill -- pointy, if not actually spinning -- and jabbed back.
Because goddammit, Eleanor was HER little sister. So this guy was going to have to deal with that right back.
Little Sister
"Get 'em, Mr. Bubbles!" called out the girl riding on top of the protector's shoulders.
Big Daddy
The Big Daddy staggered a little, but his suit was barely scratched. After all, it was designed to withstand the enormous pressure of the water outside. Or several direct hits from rocket-propelled grenades.
He took a few steps back, and then charged at the other Big Daddy, leading with his shoulder instead of the drill and coming at her like a freight train.
Raven
Well, if he was coming at her, at least, he wasn't getting to Eleanor. Raven let him charge straight into her -- and, let's be real here, the injury from the drill a moment ago meant she wasn't going to be able to get out of the way if she wanted to -- and instead aimed with the non-drill hand at the little girl on his shoulders, trying to knock her off and out of the way of the fight.
Then she slammed into the wall, the force of the Big Daddy's charge throwing her clear across the space. She shifted as she slid to the floor, no longer conscious enough to hold any particular shape but her natural blue one.
Eleanor
Eleanor screamed as Raven hit the wall. Bloody hell bloody hell he was hurting them, he was killing them --
It didn't matter that her brain still saw him as a savior, a knight in diving armor. It didn't matter that this was her Father, standing in front of her again and roaring protectively. Nothing mattered but getting her friends out of here alive.
Tears springing to her eyes, Eleanor lunged forward, skewer out. They had to stop him. Now, before -- no, Raven had to be okay. She had to. Please.
Big Daddy
He hadn't stopped for the other Big Daddy; he certainly wouldn't stop for a Big Sister. She wasn't Little anymore; she was Big. She was different. He knocked her skewer aside with his drill and threw a punch at her with his good hand.
Anders
"No!"
Anders was adrenaline and fury and fear for his friends, and he was hamstrung by his fear anything he did had a better than even chance of hurting Eleanor or the little girl. He settled for a jet of flame to the Big Daddy's knees -- if luck was with him, it would distract the man for long enough for Eleanor to do whatever she was trying to do.
Eleanor
Eleanor felt the punch crack her shoulder, but she braced herself. Anders' flames were distracting him; the Big Daddy was turning his attention to the other side, now, roaring at her little sib.
That gave her a chance to drop into a low crouch and zip forward, stabbing up high and fast with her skewer. Aiming for his torso, for some of those vital organs around his midsection.
Big Daddy
The flames hurt. Not nearly as much as you'd think they should -- the same insulation that protected him from sub-zero water outside also protected him from the brunt of the flames -- but they did, still, hurt.
The Big Daddy was trying to stamp out the flames when Eleanor's attack hit. Her skewer found a weld between two steel plates and cracked through it, and he roared in pain. Before she could pull the skewer out again, he kicked out with his heavy steel boot, and then swung the drill down at her head.
Anders
Anders gritted his teeth and shouted something nonsensical as he focused energy for a second spell. A giant stone fist appeared out of thin air to smash into the Big Daddy's head; once he was hit (or not) it would just as quickly dissipate.
Eleanor
The boot smashed into Eleanor's knee, but at least she dodged the drill aimed at her head. She caught sight of a gigantic fist smashing into the Big Daddy's helmet -- had Anders done that? How bloody useful.
No time to think about it, not now. She reached out with her mind for the nearest heavy object to fling at him -- there, that table should do nicely.
(Rapture Post #4! I apologize for the ongoing spam; I'm hitting LJ's post limits, and there's STILL miles to go. Preplayed with tigerundercover, not_every_mage, fly_so_serious, furnaceface, and pasunereveuse, with some NPC help from Noah as always.
Warnings this time: violence (even more so than usual), offscreen medical experimentation, mind control, and as always, creepiness and total bleakness. NFI, NFB, but OOC is love.)