BioQuest: Down One

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“Hm,” Elizabeth stalled and tried to do a quick recount in her mind of their supplies in Olympus. They’d need them for Booker for sure, maybe Jack too depending on where all that blood was from… She closed her eyes and rested a hand against the craggy wall. “What does Tenenbaum have for supplies?”

“Bandages, antiseptic ointment, a small lab of chemicals…” His voice strayed and she opened her eyes as he looked at the tunnel roof. “Footsteps above us,” he dismissed. “They can’t hear.”

“What’s it matter?” Booker interrupted, exhaling sharply. He had to be feeling that injury now, the adrenaline was fading. He shifted to take a knee, continuing. “Anything she needs, you can find easier at your lab.”

As her eyes adjusted to the weak lighting, she saw Booker brace a hand against his head. Elizabeth turned to him so quickly she nearly stumbled on debris by her feet and she hovered a hand near him. “Booker, what is it? Are you–”

“Tell me someone else sees this blue light,” he mumbled, wincing. The tunnel had sparse orange lights burning low, some flickering, and even that was enough to catch the sweat beading on Booker’s face.

“Lot 192,” Jack whispered. He put his hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder, moving past her to Booker. “He got the dose…?”

“Listen, Jack, it– ngh,” Booker grunted and dull blue electricity arced on his forearm, blinking out just as suddenly.

“Down to one.” Jack breathed the sentence, sinking to the floor. “And Booker could die.” He pulled at his tie, ripping the shirt collar open so forcefully that the top button rattled off down the tunnel somewhere.

“I’m not going to die,” Booker forced out the sentence, getting to his feet with the wall as support. He shuffled ahead against the wall… going nowhere fast. “Not here. We’re getting out of here.”


What do you want to do, Elizabeth?

– – –

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BioQuest: Runaway

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Footsteps and rose petals fell, coming closer as the three of them waited behind cover. The crossbow was gone and they had two weapons between them… If they didn’t know about the tunnels, they’d have nowhere to go but the dead end in Kashmir.

So this is what it looks like when he’s not faking his own death.

Elizabeth kept low and reminded herself – this was good intel against Fontaine. “The tunnels,” she whispered to Booker. He nodded, tapping Jack on the shoulder. “Take the lead.”

By Pirate Cashoo on dA

Following him again by the hand, Elizabeth went with Jack to the tunnel’s entrance. Nothing but a vent beside the restaurant to the regular citizens and even smugglers. These tunnels, they belonged to Tenenbaum and her runaway family.

“There’re plenty o’ ways to find you, son,” Atlas taunted. Jack crawled into the tunnel ahead of her, waving her in once he’d shuffled forward enough. “And I will save you from Ryan’s men, you mark my words.”

Keep talking, Fontaine. Tell me your story.

Yet Fontaine wasn’t using his other code words against Jack… Tenenbaum knew about them, so they all know. His men didn’t know.

Elizabeth slid into the vent behind Jack with a smirk. That was leverage in the right hands. Booker hunkered into the tunnel behind her, pulling the vent cover on behind him, and put his hand on her back with a little too much force.

“We need to move,” he said as plain as small talk. Jack picked up the pace with them in line behind her, although…

“Booker, what did you do?” She ran her hand along the wall as they rushed forward, bumps and nicks mapping a mental image for her as they went.

“I got him a little present too.” The explosion rocked the frame of the tunnel and only Booker kept steady.

“Come on,” he ordered, helping Elizabeth hang onto her balance.

“Wait,” Jack interrupted. She could see the curve of the wall ahead… They were at a fork in the tunnel. “Which way? The medical pavilion or home?”


What do you want to do, Elizabeth?

– – –

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Found Poetry: Tenenbaum

Originally posted for the Mood Challenge in BioShock Amino.

One of my favorite forms of poetry to write in is found poetry, which is made by taking lines from another source and reframing them to give it enhanced or new meaning.

That said, here we go!


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All I care about

I did not find

Tormentors

In the prison camp but

Kindred spirits

 

Never do I see the

Blueprints of sin

 

Only sixteen years old

When I realize

I have love

For science

 

The first home for Little Sisters will open

And the problem will be

Solved

 

All that killing

You think they could have been

Interested in something

Useful

 

They deliver

And they don’t ask questions

 

They call me

Das Wunderkind

The wonder child

 

What makes something like me?

 

Sometimes

I just know

 

These children I

brutalized have

Awoken something in me that

For most

Is beautiful and natural

 

But in me is an

Abomination

 

My maternal instinct

 

How can a child

Know such a thing

 

I know why it has to be children

But

Why just girls?

 

I feel hatred

Like I never felt before

In my chest

Bitter, burning fury

I can barely breathe

 

They are still children

They play

Sing

 

Sometimes they

Look at me

And they don’t

Stop

 

Sometimes they smile

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One of the children sat in my lap

I push her off

I shout

get away from me

 

Filthy hair hanging in her face

Dirty clothes

And

That dead glow in her eye

 

Suddenly

I know

It is not this child

I hate

 

Well

If you are going to do such things

At least you should do them

Properly