Not for the first time, Elizabeth couldn't help feeling a strange sense of deja vu, as if she'd been here before. Which wasn't peculiar in and of itself, as she clearly had. The dress she'd left on a mannequin in the...adult novelty store (she still wondered what some of those devices were meant to do, and where...) proved that. But there was something else, something beyond that. Why else would her nose keep bleeding the way it did? Hardly the time or the place for it either; sneaking around furtively out of sight to avoid being seen...
"So what if they see me?" she asks herself, also not for the first time. "I have all of time and space at my command."
"I already said." the voice tells her, the voice she couldn't possibly be hearing. "This place is about to fall apart. One wrong move, one wrong tear..."
"And it's goodbye universe." she says. "Not just ours, but every one like ours."
"Exactly." the voice says.
"But...why do I need to keep hearing this? Why can't...why can't I see like I used to?"
"You're a little on-edge right now. Whatever happened...it was big. Real big. An' you're still gettin' used to the way things are now."
Elizabeth blinks back tears. "Booker-"
"I'm not Booker." it says. "We've been over this one too."
"You're a...compendium of...knowledge, is that it? All the things I've already been through in other worlds, trying to get through to me."
"That's it." the voice says. "You still ain't got your finger. You're still you. Even if y' don't feel like it."
"It's not nearly as bad as the siphons." she admits. "If I made it through that, I can make it through this."
"That's my girl." the voice tells her. "Just remember. You c'n use the tears in a pinch, but it'll cost you."
"Cost me what?"
"You don't wanna know."
Elizabeth staggers to her feet. "What I wouldn't give for a bath..." she moans. Some time ago, she'd decided that it was better to have sore feet than to try and sneak around in high-heeled-shoes. "'One who cannot cast away a treasure at need is in fetters.' And I've had enough fetters for a lifetime."
The radio whines into life. "You sure you're all right down there?" Atlas asks. "Never a good sign when y' start talkin' t' yerself."
"You'd know better than I would." Elizabeth drawls. "There a single one of your 'boys' that isn't jumping at shadows?"
"Not really. Some have it better 'n' most, but if ya see a few of 'em start t' lose it, give me their names 'n' what they look like. I'll try and give 'em a bit more ADAM next time they come in. IF they come in..."
"The voice of the people." she says sarcastically. "Just because you have what they need and you give it to them when they ask, doesn't make you a good person."
"I never said I was a good person, luv. I'm just doin' what needs doin'."
"Right..." She sets off for the stairs. "Speaking of things that need doing, how about when this is all over I drop by and thank you properly?"
Atlas chuckles. "Are y' trying t' seduce me, 'Elizabeth'?"
"That depends. Did it work?"
"You'll have to drop by an' see, won't ya?" Despite her situation, she can't help smiling. She'd never felt comfortable enough with Booker to try flirting with him (thankfully), and while she certainly doesn't feel comfortable around Atlas, enough of her powers remain that she's confident she can outmaneuver him and any tricks he tries to pull.
"Take it easy." the voice warns her. "Getting cocky's never done anyone any good. Just because he's human doesn't mean he isn't still dangerous."
"No sense worrying about that now." she tells herself. "I need to focus on getting that Lutece particle."
Suddenly, Elizabeth hears something different. A new voice, haughty and female, with that peculiar feeling of vagueness behind the words that can only mean one thing. A Splicer.
"They talk talk talk, but in the end they've got nothing to offer society. Just more mouths to feed." the woman complains loudly. Elizabeth ducks behind the nearby couch. Luckily, the woman seems to be lost in thought. "They always arrive with out-stretched hands. They're a tuneful people, I'll grant you, but so lazy." she mutters. Elizabeth peers over the couch, searching for any sign of movement in the overbearing darkness. Nothing. They're all alone. She readies the Air Grabber and creeps closer on stockinged feet to the lone Splicer, who still pays her no mind. "Audrey, Michelle, Peter, Thomas, William, Joseph... no wait, n-not Peter..."
Elizabeth takes a deep breath and raises the Grabber up high, ready to bring it crashing down on the poor woman's head. Suddenly, she slips. A bit of beaten cloth from the woman's dress had come fluttering down, and she, in a state of nervous excitement, had failed to see it. "How dare you touch me!" the Splicer shrieks, whirling around. She lets loose with a plasmid. Elizabeth soars into the air uncontrollably, narrowly avoiding banging her head against the ceiling. She reaches for her hand cannon, only to have it torn from her hand by another burst of Telekinesis. "You're stealing! I know it!" the woman screeches.
"I'm not stealing anything!" Elizabeth pleads, struggling against the invisible energy holding her aloft.
"No sense arguin' with 'em." the voice tells her calmly. "Grab your crossbow and let 'er have it."
"I'm trying!" Elizabeth says frantically.
"Don't you disrespect me!" the woman bellows out of nowhere. She makes another gesture and Elizabeth feels her clothing begin to loosen and drift away.
"What the hell are you doing?" she gasps, reaching in vain for her stockings.
"We have rules here! I'm your better! I'll teach you your place!" The Splicer continues to rant and rave as she tears away the helpless girl's clothes. The blouse and skirt Elizabeth had been so enamored with are next to go, but just as the Splicer is about to undo the rest, the plasmid wears off. Elizabeth drops to the floor with a thud, landing squarely on her behind. The Splicer scrambles over before Elizabeth can regain her bearings (a sudden unexpected flight through the air can leave one feeling disoriented) and grabs her by the wrist. "You think you can just take what you want? This isn't the jungle!" the woman scolds her, hauling the girl up and marching her back over to the couch she had only just left. She sits down awkwardly and tugs Elizabeth down after her. "You'll regret coming here... mark my words." the Splicer warns her ominously. Elizabeth, torn between her natural desire to fight back and a strange tingling that had begun to build in her tummy, can only lie there over the older woman's lap as she fumbles with her undergarments. Finally, she's had enough and rips both bra and panties away in fury. A fragment of her former self returns and she pauses to straighten both her hair and her posture and reseat herself on the couch before returning her attention to the prostrate and thoroughly naked girl across her knees. "Now...where was I?" the woman says to no one in particular. "Ah yes, that's right." She rears back and brings a hand crashing down on Elizabeth's exposed backside.
"Ow!" she cries, but the woman's not done yet.
"You're worthless! You're nothing!" she yells, punctuating each remark with a fresh slap to the bottom.
"Ouch! Ow!"
"How dare you try and steal from me!" SLAP!
"I wasn't-ow!"
"Don't talk back to me!" SLAP!
"I...let me go! Ow! Dammit!" As soon as the obscenity left her mouth, she knew it was a mistake.
"Vulgar little tramp!" the Splicer shrieks, redoubling her efforts.
"OW! OW! Oh my God-OW!" Elizabeth squeals.
"Take his name in vain? Take that! And that!"
The spanking continues for what must be an age. Despite the pain and stinging the woman's punishment causes, Elizabeth finds herself thinking she might be able to enjoy it. Maybe I deserve it, she wonders as the woman switches hands. What I did to Booker...and Comstock...maybe I have been bad. The thought sends strange feelings into her stomach, and below. Am I really getting...turned on by this? Here I am at the bottom of the ocean, at the mercy of a drug-addled psychopath, and I'm...I'm getting...aroused.
"Don't you think that's kind of messed up?" the voice asks suddenly.
Oh, NOW you talk. she grumbles inwardly, her own voice growing hoarse from the innumerable gasps and shrieks of pain.
"I mean, what would Booker think?"
If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not think about my father right now!
"Fine by me." the voice says, and is gone.
Elizabeth's bottom is a brilliant shade of red by the time the woman's finished. "You were deserving." the woman sniffs and pushes Elizabeth off her lap. Quickly, she manages to turn over before she hits the floor, landing on her stomach instead of her ass. "Don't let me catch you around here again!" the woman says, folding her arms.
"Ow..." Elizabeth whispers, rubbing her backside gently. "Don't worry, ma'am." she says, somewhat to her surprise. "I've learned my lesson." But the Splicer has already forgotten her and staggered off in search of something else. "Ugh." Elizabeth sighs, turning around to try and get a better look at the damage. "I need to find a place to sit down. And maybe a first-aid kit, ow."
She walks slowly away from the scene of her punishment, too wrapped up in her own pain and peculiar feelings of pleasure to remember her clothes. "What I really need is...sex." she says aloud and claps a hand over her mouth, shocked at her own vulgarity. No one is there to scold her or reprimand her, so she lowers her hand and wonders if she should say it again. "I probably shouldn't. There's no telling who might be watching." she decides. At least Atlas hadn't decided to listen in. Or had he?
Only much later, when she's hiding around the corner from a lumbering metal giant, does Elizabeth realize what she forgot. "Oh. Well..." She thinks long and hard about what to say next. There's only one word that will do, and she makes a note to chastise herself for it later.
"Fuck."