Andrew Ryan gazed out of the glass of his office at the crowded seabed before him- the moment a luxury to be sure but hadn't he earned it? Ultimately everything he saw beyond the sea itself was a product of his labor and ambition in some way- he had a right to take a moment and view his kingdom. The speaker on his desk beeped- "Mr. Ryan, Dr. Suchong is here to see you." Andrew turned, "Inform him he will be billed personally for every minute of this supposed-to-be unnecessary meeting and send him in."

The heavy wooden doors opened automatically as the Korean doctor made his way in. "You requested Suchong?" he inquired, approaching the stately desk as Ryan sat down behind it. "Only because it seems I needed to; you are aware that my request is already six months overdue, correct?" Andrew asked accusingly, looking the doctor in the eye. "Yes yes of course- Suchong knows that- and Suchong knows the contract terms- but there are projects more valuable than the penalty…." Suchong was interrupted by Andrew, "I truly doubt your pet projects are more valuable than the projects that keep you off the street- and I doubt you have another contract you need to be focusing on considering Fontaine's stroke has removed him from the picture."

Dr. Suchong recalled hearing the news of how half of his profitable contracts suddenly were imperiled when a sudden stroke incapacitated Frank Fontaine; it was not a very good memory- and although Frank was replaced- his replacement had none of the ambition that Frank had in regards to genetic research. With that, Andrew Ryan became his primary client, and with that came the need to please the egotistical man. He sighed as he said "Suchong will make sure your 'Animal Magnetism' tonic is available by next month- if you wish it in writing Suchong will do so." To be honest, he felt that the concept was idiotic- why fix the side effect of plasmids with bestial features when more traditional beauty could be used- but Ryan had specified what he wanted in the contract and so by the contract he will go. Besides, although on the rare occasion that the reasoning was discussed Ryan said animalistic forms better masked the mental side effects of ADAM consumption- after all bestial actions from beasts could almost be regarded as quaint- Suchong noticed Andrew Ryan's odd attachment to the 'Ryan the Lion' character and couldn't help but think there was an ulterior motive.

"Get it to me in writing before the end of the week." was all Andrew Ryan replied with to that. "You would do well to remember who pays for your research doctor, a doctor too poor to afford the tools of the trade is a poor doctor indeed. You may go, confirm your bill with the receptionist on the way out." Dr. Suchong turned and left as Andrew watched him- it was an odd thing admittedly to turn men into animal-like beings- but it had always held a sort of fascination with him- he had long regarded himself as a lion- why shouldn't the world bear witness to it in its literal form? It was a luxury, but like the view, he had earned it.


Booker DeWitt stared at the advertisements in the shop window- "Embrace your wild side with Ryan Industries' Animal Magnetism! Shed that flawed skin of yours for a new form! Take a new identity on your OWN terms!" A new identity- just what the doctor ordered- who knew that a few gambling debts and a few failed cases could lead up to this point? Booker did- but this time no one had come to his door with a devil's bargain. With the last of his cash on him Booker entered the store, and on a monitor hung from the ceiling there was Andrew Ryan, now "Ryan the Lion" touting the virtues of the tonic- how he felt ten times stronger, had more personal courage than ever before- how he was more virile than any mundane human male was- and Booker just rolled his eyes- he has sure most of it was hype, but, well, he needed a new skin, and what Ryan Industries was offering was just that.

Booker looked over the shelves of Animal Magnetism and saw there were plenty of species to choose from- apparently it wasn't hard to make different varieties once the base formula had been perfected. There was even a sign saying to ask a shop clerk about placing an order for a custom version if none of the mass produced ones were to your liking. From what he could see though- there was one species that caught his eye- the fox. Notoriously sly, stealthy, a reputation for cunning and supposedly great night vision- all would be very useful for a Private Investigator- really it was hardly much of a choice when it was this obvious. Booker grabbed the fox-emblazoned tonic and brought it to a cash register. "Alright, one Vulpine Magnetism, please do be sure to read the warnings and instructions- you do NOT inject this variety OK?" with a cheery tone and smile the well-trained clerk took the last of Booker's money and sent him on his way with a new chance at life.

Booker sighed, knowing that he couldn't really go back to his office given it had his name on it and they would be looking for him there- so he decided to go to a more unsavory part of Rapture- a part where a guy can find some privacy in the pipework. Putting the tonic in his bag beside his pistol, some ammo, a bottle of bourbon, a pack of cigs, and what clothes he could fit- he proceeded on.

The glitz of Rapture was really only restricted to the shopping and leisure areas- and the luxury residents if you were those types- beyond that the adornments, if there were any, became much more spartan. That was fine with Booker though- he never did much like pretension. Eventually he reached a section of the underwater city that wasn't quite a slum- but was heading there- and was full of nooks and crannies for him to hide in for a bit. It didn't take much searching to come across an ideal one, squeezed between two homes, around a corner and leading to a dead end. "Here's the place" thought Booker, "here's the place where Booker gets replaced- ah well, let's get on with it." He pulled out the tonic and popped it open like an expert, and with zero fanfare proceeded to guzzle it.

As the last drop headed down his throat he felt it, as if something was surfacing from his core to the surface of his skin, overwhelming him. He bent over and gasped as suddenly orange fur began to force its way out of his skin, painting him for all to see as his spine elongated from his rear. Having not read the instructions, Booker hadn't considered removing his clothes before his transformation, and so his pants were ruined as the fabric was ripped by the strong rapidly-growing bone and muscle. His face began to elongate too, forming into a point even as his nose flattened and darkened to resemble a fox's, as his ears migrated to the top of his head and grew to form triangles. He was pleased though to see that his hands remained hands, albeit furry hands- as a gun would be rather hard to handle with a paw- but he could feel his feet morph a bit within his shoes- with only luck's providence preventing them from being ruined too.

As his change finished, he felt absolutely famished and exhausted- the transformation having taken all of his available energy to manifest, and for the first time he felt his new tail move- a very odd sensation. He straightened up his stance and began to undo his tattered pants, sighing in frustration as he got them off and replaced them with a pair from his bag. So he was a fox now- utterly unrecognizable- perfect… now he needs a new name though- Booker DeWitt was wanted. Hmm… a false name… replacement name… nick name…. Nick… Nicholas! Alright so the first name would be Nicholas, and the surname would be… hmm… animal… feral… wild… Wilde! He would be Nick Wilde from now on, new fox, new private investigator.

Nick grabbed his things and headed back the way he came, but as he turned the corner he heard bickering voices- a female remarking "Late? How could it possibly be possible for one to be late when one travels through time?" and a genteel man responding "Well such is always possible- are you implying something is impossible? Honestly sister you are smarter than that. Quite simply we are late because here we were always late, elsewhere perhaps we would be early." Walking slowly towards the exit of the alley Nick heard the voices continue, "Just because I am 'smarter than that' doesn't mean I can't be surprised- I mean who could have predicted wrapping up DeWitt-Comstock would be like a Big Crunch- only resulting in a new Big Bang of quantum probabilities and possibilities similar to but not quite the same as before?"

Nick cautiously exited the alley, keeping an eye out for the two speakers who he assumed were just ADAM-headed- even though one had mentioned his name- when he locked eyes with them- both of them in matching proper attire and staring at him with mouths slightly agape. Quickly, the female regained her composure, "Well, as I said, I can still be surprised- I believe Mr. DeWitt has found a unique solution to his problems…" the male continuing her phrase "...but I am not sure if it is better or worse than what we were going to offer." Nick looked rather dismayed, his ears slinking down, already he had been recognized- the exact opposite of what he was hoping for- but perhaps if he is polite he could ask what gave it away. Putting on an amicable smile he approached them, "Hello, clearly I am not fooling anyone- and considering things I would like to know why- and also who you two are."

The two, now clearly twins, chuckled, as the woman says "I am Rosalind Lutece and this is my brother, Robert, we have met before…" Suddenly a memory crashed through Nick's head- a baby- an old life- a deal made in the shadows- how could he forget these people? "You… bastards… how… how are you even here? How did you find me?" Nick couldn't help but snarl, him taking to his new bestial form well. "Well we were going to offer another deal… you do seem to get into debt quite a bit…" remarked Robert, "but I can see that you have decided to try and outfox those you owe money to." Nick felt a desire to shoot them both, but his rational mind told him to save his bullets for business. "But don't worry" Rosalind interjected, "the only reason we know that you are you is because we were tracking you already- otherwise there is not a trace on that orange body of the old Booker DeWitt." Robert leaned over to her and whispered "Do you think this new batch of timelines will have him choose between being baptized in fur in addition to the earlier water choice or-" Rosalind shushed him rebukingly.

Nick was simultaneously relieved and alarmed, relieved that only they would know the connection between Booker DeWitt and Nick Wilde but alarmed that he could be followed without him noticing. "Well I don't need whatever you're offering now- and you probably want a virgin's still-beating heart or something for it anyway- but hey it's Rapture I'm sure you can find a seller somewhere." Nick turned away from the two as Rosalind commented, "That doesn't really sound like the Booker we are used to- maybe it's the tonic talking- or are you just trying to adopt new mannerisms to complete the illusion?" Nick stopped and shrugged, "Maybe both, maybe one, maybe none- regardless I'm not dealing with you two anymore." With that he headed on his way, bag over his shoulder and past hopefully behind him. "Do you want to see where this is heading?" asked Robert to his sister, "Oh yes! Definitely! The last set of timelines ended so drearily; I could use some time watching a man who thinks pretending to be a fox will solve all his problems." and with that, they were gone.