The Atlantic Ocean, 100 Miles from Reykjavik, And Then A Cargo Ship, Thursday Fandom Time (NFI, NFB)
It was dawn as Eleanor knelt next to her father's body. The sunrise was painting the sky and water in soft, pastel hues, and his large gloved hand was heavy in her own. His road ended here.
He had rescued her, had gotten her to safety, even at the cost of his own life. He had died at peace, with love in his heart. She could never hope to repay him, only to honor his memory.
She had taken a small extract of his ADAM, so that some fragment of his essence -- his memories, maybe even a tiny bit of his soul -- would always be with her. And then, because she was practical even in her grief, she had rummaged through his possessions and pocketed his cash. He would no longer need it.
The Little Sisters were emerging from the craft, now, and gathering around her. She wiped the tears away with the back of her glove and stood.
"We'll be rescued soon," she told the girls. Rapture was only a hundred miles from Reykjavik; surely a ship would be by sooner or later. "Does everyone remember her name? Full names, addresses, and telephone if you had it."
They'd been taken so young, and their minds had been twisted for so long. A few of the older children were piping up with information, but some of the smaller children looked upset.
"It's all right," Eleanor said, crouching next to one of the short ones. She had bits of ADAM for all of them; she could find the details, if she looked carefully enough. Surely it was in here somewhere ...
"Mary Elizabeth Sarsfield," she pronounced, at last. It must have been right, because Mary Elizabeth's face lit up. "Let's find a pencil and write this down."
It had only taken four hours for a ship to find them -- a freighter going from Greenland to Iceland. The crew had been polite, and hospitable, and perfectly willing to take on extra cargo in the shape of one teenager, her mother, and ten little girls.
Eleanor didn't recognize their native speech, but Mother appeared to have found a common tongue with them; they were chatting away easily, a fact which turned her stomach with dread. What lies must she be telling them?
At least the girls would be safe. The crew had insisted on making ship-to-shore phone calls for all of the lost children. The tearful reunions had taken place in many languages, but the melody remained the same.
Ten sets of parents were heading to Reykjavik, to meet the ship and claim their missing daughters. The nightmare of Rapture would be over for them.
Had Eleanor been able to speak to the crew, she might have lied. Insisted that she, too, was missing her mother; made up a number to call and faked her end of a phone call. But Sofia had made it clear that this girl was hers, and that moreover, she was sickly and ought to be kept away from all of this chaos. It might excite her, you see.
Which was how Eleanor spent her first night of freedom once more locked away, in a tiny space near the boiler room. No window. A pity; she would have liked to see the stars.
"This is for your own good," Mother had insisted.
"It's for your own good," Eleanor replied. She had known that letting her mother live would cause trouble; she hadn't expected trouble to happen so quickly. "The good of your flock."
"What I do, I do not for myself, but in service of all mankind," Sofia said. Ever the martyr. "We have had a considerable setback, but when we reach London, we can start again."
"I won't be your Messiah," Eleanor said flatly. "I will never do what you ask."
Mother had taken her glasses off, polished them, and put them on again. Was she concealing an emotion? Odd to think of Mother having any.
"I realize that you were ... fond, of that man," she said brusquely. "But he wasn't your father. I won't have you throw away your destiny to mourn a perfect stranger."
Eleanor had rolled away then, to face the wall. Mother could keep her here, but Mother couldn't force her to listen.
After a long silence, Sofia had finally said, "When the time comes, you will do what is right."
Eleanor heard the door click shut and shuddered.
I have to get out of here.
(Part 2 of 3. Spoilers for the ending of Bioshock 2, and then I made some things up. This one has NPC death in it, immediately offscreen. NFI, NFB, etc.)
He had rescued her, had gotten her to safety, even at the cost of his own life. He had died at peace, with love in his heart. She could never hope to repay him, only to honor his memory.
She had taken a small extract of his ADAM, so that some fragment of his essence -- his memories, maybe even a tiny bit of his soul -- would always be with her. And then, because she was practical even in her grief, she had rummaged through his possessions and pocketed his cash. He would no longer need it.
The Little Sisters were emerging from the craft, now, and gathering around her. She wiped the tears away with the back of her glove and stood.
"We'll be rescued soon," she told the girls. Rapture was only a hundred miles from Reykjavik; surely a ship would be by sooner or later. "Does everyone remember her name? Full names, addresses, and telephone if you had it."
They'd been taken so young, and their minds had been twisted for so long. A few of the older children were piping up with information, but some of the smaller children looked upset.
"It's all right," Eleanor said, crouching next to one of the short ones. She had bits of ADAM for all of them; she could find the details, if she looked carefully enough. Surely it was in here somewhere ...
"Mary Elizabeth Sarsfield," she pronounced, at last. It must have been right, because Mary Elizabeth's face lit up. "Let's find a pencil and write this down."
It had only taken four hours for a ship to find them -- a freighter going from Greenland to Iceland. The crew had been polite, and hospitable, and perfectly willing to take on extra cargo in the shape of one teenager, her mother, and ten little girls.
Eleanor didn't recognize their native speech, but Mother appeared to have found a common tongue with them; they were chatting away easily, a fact which turned her stomach with dread. What lies must she be telling them?
At least the girls would be safe. The crew had insisted on making ship-to-shore phone calls for all of the lost children. The tearful reunions had taken place in many languages, but the melody remained the same.
Ten sets of parents were heading to Reykjavik, to meet the ship and claim their missing daughters. The nightmare of Rapture would be over for them.
Had Eleanor been able to speak to the crew, she might have lied. Insisted that she, too, was missing her mother; made up a number to call and faked her end of a phone call. But Sofia had made it clear that this girl was hers, and that moreover, she was sickly and ought to be kept away from all of this chaos. It might excite her, you see.
Which was how Eleanor spent her first night of freedom once more locked away, in a tiny space near the boiler room. No window. A pity; she would have liked to see the stars.
"This is for your own good," Mother had insisted.
"It's for your own good," Eleanor replied. She had known that letting her mother live would cause trouble; she hadn't expected trouble to happen so quickly. "The good of your flock."
"What I do, I do not for myself, but in service of all mankind," Sofia said. Ever the martyr. "We have had a considerable setback, but when we reach London, we can start again."
"I won't be your Messiah," Eleanor said flatly. "I will never do what you ask."
Mother had taken her glasses off, polished them, and put them on again. Was she concealing an emotion? Odd to think of Mother having any.
"I realize that you were ... fond, of that man," she said brusquely. "But he wasn't your father. I won't have you throw away your destiny to mourn a perfect stranger."
Eleanor had rolled away then, to face the wall. Mother could keep her here, but Mother couldn't force her to listen.
After a long silence, Sofia had finally said, "When the time comes, you will do what is right."
Eleanor heard the door click shut and shuddered.
I have to get out of here.
(Part 2 of 3. Spoilers for the ending of Bioshock 2, and then I made some things up. This one has NPC death in it, immediately offscreen. NFI, NFB, etc.)