Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any recognizable or licensed material appearing in this work of fiction in any way, shape, and/or form. It all belongs to it's respective owners to the fullest extent of the laws they fall under. I am not attempting to or making a monetary profit from this work of fiction in any way, shape, and/or form.
AN: Well, this is the prologue to a story I've had on my mind for a while, hope you enjoy it, there'll be another one soon enough.
"Well, this is quite the problem, don't you agree sister?"
"Quite brother. We've, or they in this case actually, have caused quite the mess, one we will have to undoubtedly have to tidy up."
"True, very true dear sister."
"Shall we begin?"
"It's best to start now, children do make such horrible messes."
"Yes, that's why it's an excellent idea to start cleaning early."
"Then let us depart to get our supplies."
"Of course, we cannot clean without them."
"Indeed sister, very true."
As he looked back on his life, one man could not help but see how much there was to regret in the end. His life was almost entirely regret, nothing but one failure after another that he wished he could change, just another mistake he wishes he could make right, and always, always his personal ghost, always haunting him no matter how much he tried to stop.
That damn crib was just always there and his demons made sure he would never get rid of it.
"Anna...I'm so sorry."
Booker DeWitt was never a man to cry, he never did it much and never wanted to make a habit of doing it but from time to time, especially on THAT day, he would allow himself to do so.
"Ah, this is quite the sight, isn't it brother?"
"That it is indeed. I can hardly believe it."
"The tears or the fact he does this every year on this exact date?"
"Perhaps a bit of both really, I'm quite surprised he even remembers it all."
"Now, now brother, don't underestimate the power of the human mind. We so rarely treat it with it's proper respect."
"Indeed sister, that last time he visited him his mind helped us quite a bit."
"Yes it did, let's just hope that help hasn't turned to harm now."
"Come now sister, the mind is stronger than that, I do believe he hasn't been driven mad...at least yet."
"Good point, I suppose we shall just have to wait and see."
"So he hasn't noticed us then? I'm surprised, I would imagine he would be pointing a gun at us now, despite how pointless it would be."
"I believe he is still in a nasty state of depression, something about his daughter perhaps?"
"Ah! I should have realized such a thing sooner. Thank you sister."
"You are quite welcome brother."
Booker DeWitt knew the voices behind him, he probably also knew what they wanted with him too. He just didn't care, he just wanted to stay where he was, siting at his desk on the anniversary of the day he both found his daughter and lost her at the same time.
"Hmm, perhaps we should try a different approach then? Perhaps something along the lines of his daughter's current dilemma?"
"Anna!" DeWitt shot to his feet, turning to face the red heads who had appeared in his office/apartment, the numerous beer bottles and racing tickets gone but the stench of cigarette smoke still hung in the air. He may have done his best to change after what he went through but it was ridiculous to think he could drop all his habits.
Everyone could afford a vice and his would always be smoking, something he had eased up on but continued nonetheless.
"Ah, that did get his attention." the male redhead, Robert Lutece, turned to his sister with a small grin, one someone who had just discovered something rather interesting would have. "I suppose that is what we should have done in the first place."
"I suppose you are right." the female redhead, Rosalind Lutece, gave brushed off her brother with a wave of her hand, keeping her eyes locked on the standing Booker. "But on to more pressing matters."
"Quite, quite."
"So, what do you two want now?" Booker leaned back, resting against the wall behind his desk even as his hands seemed to grow sparking blue crystals, the sign of his imminent Vigor use. "Another debt?"
"No, of course not."
"Most definitely not, not after the disaster your last debt caused."
"Quite, you were quite the force when you took on Columbia Mr. DeWitt."
"That is true brother, I don't think I've ever seen one of our experiments go so far, he must have passed through three or so different realities, correct?"
"Not to mention the chaos he caused, but it was entertaining to see his rather fruitless struggles against the bird."
"Quite, his eleventh attempt was quite innovative."
"Ah, you must mean when he caused all that damage with those rockets!"
"Of course, we did give him them in the end."
"Ah, quite the enjoyment that one. Who knew Comstock built a second bird right under everyone's nose?"
"Except our own of course, the shock on his face was quite entertaining before he took a tumble through the clouds, wasn't it brother?"
"Oh I would say it was one of the funniest things I've ever seen, his expressions when he learns there's another bird are always enjoyable. Wouldn't you say the same sister?"
"Perhaps, I always did enjoy his reactions to the founders the best."
"You mean those Motorized Patriots Comstock had Fink make, don't you sister?"
"Of course, except for when he ended up fighting that daddy that one time."
"Oh yes, that was quite amusing. Who knew Elizabeth was so inexperienced to bring one of them at such a bad moment?"
"To be fair he didn't go down without a fight. He put in quite the effort in the end, wouldn't you say brother?"
"Of course, he managed to kill something he had never seen before. It was quite impressive when he saw what it did to that abomination."
"Now, now sister, don't insult such devout contributors. Those mechanized monsters were a great bit of entertainment, there constant complaints while they fought were almost as informative as those addicts we observes in a few doors."
"Of course you would see such a thing brother, everything I despise you somehow grow fascinated with. Of course you're not just doing such a thing to annoy me as you know how aggravating they are to me."
"Perhaps you should try to open your mind to such things, I don't see why you are so stubborn with me on these things from time to time."
"Can you really blame me brother?"
"Of course I can't, I'm simply asking you to broaden your perspective dear sister."
"Are you finished yet!" Booker had been waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting as he listened to the two Luteces talk and talk, acting as if he wasn't even there instead of just getting to the point, mainly what he had to do for them now.
"Oh quite." Robert answered, turning away from his sister as they had launched into an argument over if she was biased towards a specific branch of their research or if he himself was simply choosing topics to look into that would aggravate her on purpose.
"Of course, we were simply waiting for you to speak up before we continued." Rosalind sat down in one of the chairs in front of Booker's desk, Robert following her lead after a moment and settling himself into the second chair, one of the three in the office. "Now, if you can sit down we can explain our business with you."
"And what's stopping me from walking away from you two, the last time I listened to you I was nearly killed and I don't make the same mistake twice." Booker stayed standing, his pistol in hand, something he had grabbed while they were speaking, but currently at his side.
"Because, the "mistake" as you call it,"
",has happened countless times. One of the constants is that you will,"
",nearly always listen to because we can always convince you to see things our way or,"
",you do it to yourself without us having to do a single thing."
"Something we undoubtedly appreciate, Mr. DeWitt."
Booker was silent, instead of speaking he instead sat down, seemingly deep in thought before both Rosalind and Robert snapped their fingers on either side of his face, doing so simultaneously and bringing Booker's attention back to them.
"Ah, it's good we have your attention." Robert leaned back in his chair as Rosalind picked up the pack of cigarettes on Booker's desk with a look of distaste.
"Dreadful things these things are, utterly dreadful." Rosalind tossed them away, something Booker would have normally snapped at but decided against it at the pointed look Robert seemed to give him.
'She is like this all the time, don't keep those things around when we visit. Understood?'
Booker only sighed, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a new pack, one he kept on him and already a quarter empty, he had brought it a few days ago and have showed some restraint. Like he said before, he was trying to at least limit his smoking but not entirely stop it. He lit it with a minor Devil's Kiss, a small fireball appearing in his cupped hands before he threw the fireball off to the side, scoring an almost bullseye on the target he had set up for just a purpose. He ignored Rosalind's look of distaste as he took a rather long drag of it, not at all looking forward to having to deal with the Luteces yet again.
"So, what is it you want?" Booker leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of him and tilting his chair back with his feet up on the desk, a habit he had formed after his "adventure" in Columbia.
"We want," Rosalind began.
",no, we need," Robert continued.
",your help, quite badly." the two speaking together as they finished, looking at Booker with a rare thing, at least some regret in their eyes, enough for Booker to place his cigarette in an ash tray on his desk, giving the Luteces his full attention.
"We apologize for what we put you particularly through, we had no idea it would end up that bad." Robert reached into his jacket, drawing out a box of cigarettes he handed over to Booker. "Consider this the start of our apology, those are..."
",rather special." Rosalind finished for Robert, the redhead's distaste still clear on her face as Booker continued smoking. "But, ignoring your horrible habits, we need your help to deal with a problem, something that concerns, sadly, Zachary Comstock."
"WHAT!"
Robert and Rosalind leaned back moments before Booker's shout, simply waiting as he seemed to be close to a complete breakdown, one that would turn violent very quickly if it was allowed to happen.
"Now, now Booker, calm down and let us explain." Rosalind barely held back a smirk at Booker's actions. "We haven't even had a chance to explain it all yet."
"Then you better start now!" Booker leveled his pistol, the same one he had brought to Columbia and brought back with him along with a few other things safely hidden away in his desk, in easy reach if need be, at the Luteces, his other hand taking on a familiar pattern.
"So your going to try to use Bucking Bronco then?" Robert held back a chuckle, not very threatened by Booker's upcoming use of a Vigor. "Do you really think you can hurt us?"
"..." Booker was silent, instead allowing the Vigor to fade and instead sit back down, sighing as he picked up his still burning cigarette and took another drag, deciding to keep his anger in check for the moment.
"That's more like it." Rosalind stood up, walking around the desk to stand on Booker's side. "Now, are you willing to listen now or do we have to take more extreme measures?"
"..."
"I do believe his silence is an affirmation to nonviolence sister, you don't have to keep up that act now."
"Of course I don't, it simply helps."
"Oh no doubt but we have to remember who we're dealing with here."
"Good point, perhaps we should watch ourselves."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" both Robert an Rosalind broke into almost mad laughter at Rosalind's words before they composed themselves, Robert still lightly chuckling at such a thought.
"Now, on to business I suppose." Rosalind reached into her jacket, drawing out a picture. One of Zachary Comstock and some other man shaking hands on a hovercraft, this one heavily stylized and obvious purely ceremonial.
"Tell us Booker, what do you know of Andrew Ryan?"
AN: And here's something I'll probably devout at least a biweekly update status too, I have a outline and don't expect this story to be long so enjoy as I try my hand at a BioShock story.
Peace.