Sorry that this is so very, very late! I have a bad habit of pushing all my work off to the last minute, so my week has been full of projects that I had been procrastinating on for a while now. Any way, no more excuses… Enjoy!
What to do, what to do…? If you are clinging to your last scrap of sanity in an insane world, what do you do? Despite what most people belief, there are several different options. One, you could throw that scrap away and merge into the mad world around you. Two, you die trying to form the psychotic city into someplace your scrap of sanity would thrive. Three, you could simply die. It's easy as that. Four, you could search out for any like-minded citizens residing in the same hell hole and cower in the dark. This was the second most commonly picked option, next to number three. Or, finally… Five, you could hold on to your scrap of sanity, tuck it away somewhere safe, and change yourself.
Change excludes splicing, because that would lead back to number one. No, a different kind of change would be in order. A change that could only be thought of or understood by those with a thinking head on their shoulders and at least a scrap of sanity. So if you are clinging to your last scrap of sanity, in the insanity called Rapture, and have not already chosen an option from one through four, it is highly suggested that you at least attempt to make that change. Be cautious and be clever, for you never know who is watching in Rapture anymore.
To survive with that bit of sanity in tact, you must make a statement that doesn't have "Splicer bait" or "Big Daddy doormat" in it. Who knows? Maybe you'll catch the eye of someone. Then your chances of ending up with option number three would, at the very least, be lowered by 50%.
…
Time past too quickly when mourning. Although, the Little Sister couldn't really tell how long she spent crying by his side. It seemed the clock's tickers stood still as she followed her mental conditioning blindly. Her patience soon overpowered that instinct, though, and soon she had stopped sobbing. All her bawling increased the chances of being found by a Splicer. Still, she somberly stood in one of those forgotten little rooms in Arcadia. Sometimes the shout of a baddie would echo into her sanctuary, and Lotte would hide by the door with plans to stab any intruder with her toy. However, they never came and, with each scare, she began to calculate.
Slowly, Lotte returned to the side of her fallen Protector and rested his hands over his belly the way she saw Snow White in a storybook. He was growing cool, but he remained loose. Considering what Uncle Steinman told her about angels on one of her visits to her invisible Aunt Aphrodite, he had probably –gone away- an hour ago. Poor daddy. You shouldn't have followed the angels. She thought as she face sagged with guilt. The Dead Daddy's "daughter" gave his humongous, gloved hand one last squeeze before scampering away.
Little Lotte had been to almost every part of Rapture at least once. She had traveled through tunnels, vents, trains, and even a hacked bathysphere once with her Big Sister. In all her exploration, she had charted a mental map. However, the frightening real of Rapture had never been around long enough to explore. Not that she went out of her way to do so the majority of the time. Most Sisters avoided the alternate universe.
It was only when Lotte purposely put herself in danger or annoyed a living angel did she get glimpses of the world as it really was. Only glimpses though. Big Sis and Daddy kept her safe and admonished her for these rash actions.
"At least there will be some reason for this," the young girl muttered to herself quietly before peeking out the doorway to the long stretch of land in front of her. Arcadia was known for these fields. Lotte loved them when she was with Mr. B and approached them with caution when alone. It was the perfect place to get ambushed or be caught. After a careful inspection of the surrounding area, she crept across in order to attract the least amount of attention as possible. No jeers from strangers. No shuffles in the dark. Not even the caw from one of the very, very few surviving birds living in the trees. Unusual, but good. Everything was going well so far. Of course, "so far" being the key word.
Not wasting time waiting for something bad to happen, the vulnerable Gatherer continued on her rushed journey in search of a vent. Even with the chaos around her seeming calm and nearly safe, she knew better than to take time and smell the roses. Especially when the roses turned into puddles of crimson blood. Lotte padded down the next hallway, occasionally looking back to the skyscraper-like trees as she racked her brain for the location of the nearest vent.
If everything she processed from riches to rags was correct, then she would find a vent soon enough. The statue crafted from broken pipes and rubber cement at the fork in her path appeared as a Big Daddy in her dream world, didn't it? She hesitated for a moment, staring at the scrap art with her head cocked to the side before nodding. Yep. If you turned your head horizontal and squinted really hard, it looked like a Rosie Daddy. She understood with a smile.
Right, cause right is always right. Lotte decided instantaneously, fondly remember the nonsensical statement that a younger Sister. She walked half way down the right passageway before pausing as she thought it through. Unless left is right. But doesn't that mean right is left. Turning on her heels with a new solution, she began to back track to where the fork was. In her opinion, Scary-Rapture wasn't that bad. It didn't hurt her eyes with all its brightness. Plus, without the meanies, it was almost nice: broken, but nice.
It seemed, with that, the lost girl jinxed her. As she was walking back, an overcast of shadows that she hadn't noticed before game to greet her. It made shivers run down her spine. "I'm not afraid of the dark," she snorted after barely a millisecond. The darkness crept closer, as if to prove her wrong. The mature Little Sister didn't back down, though. Instead, she straightened her spine defiantly and stomped her foot to enforce her words. "I'm not afraid to the dark!" She repeated loudly, glaring down at the shadows. And, Lotte noticed with a certain amount of pride, that blackness creeping forward stopped in its tracks. Keeping her willful pose, she waited patiently for them to disappear completely.
It didn't work out that way, though. Rather than go away, the shadows rushes forward and surrounded her. They were sticky like the ink strangers painted on the walls with. Just their presence so close made her anxious. She suddenly wanted a box of crayons to scribble out that inky art, even though she had a dislike for drawing after growing subconscious about her terrible skills. She didn't cower for long though.
Someone and something's eyes were drilling holes into her. Little lasers that saw through her tough expression to the entirely different feelings she swallowed hard to keep from showing. One of those feelings just happened to be fear. "I'm not afraid," Lotte lied this time to the possessor of those eyes. She could tell without even seeing them that they knew she was being dishonest. "But…" She continued, this time truthfully, "I'm not stupid either."
Just like she usually saw her Big Sister aim fireballs, Lotte threw her needle in the general direction where she felt the eyes and took off as fast as her gangly legs could take her. The grunt from behind her proved that she had hit something, and encouraged her to run even faster. Whatever it is, it isn't going to be happy with me. She knew for a fact. Her heart was beating like a drum when she finally broke out of the shadows. Still, the pursued Sister didn't dare slow down her pace. Heavy footsteps mimicked her own.
After bursting out of the hallway and into a new room, she frantically began to search for shelter. It didn't matter if she found a vent anymore. All Lotte needed was somewhere to hide. Once she was safe again, she would think of a new plan. The room wasn't very big, so there wasn't much of anything she could pile up on top of herself if she wanted to go that rout. It looked a bit like a work or gardening shop. A whole lot of desks piled with tools framing the room and the big block in the middle of it.
An idea formed quickly in her mind and she began frantically tapped on it. It sounded hallow! She shuffled around the rim of it on her hands and knees before finally finding the crawl door. The footsteps from the hallway were getting louder. Time was running out! Scared out of her wits, Lotte got inside and closed the small door after her so her chances of being found were reduced. Not a moment too soon either.
As soon as the exhausted girl was inside, hugging her legs to her chest and doing her very best to slow her breathing, the door to the hallway was flung open. The dark beast wasn't so much as panting from the chase. It merely walked in soberly and began to search the room. It wasn't gentle as it rooted through everything, either. Desks, tools, and everything else that were considered in the way were thrown away. She wouldn't be surprised if the damages it caused were equivalent to those of a natural disaster. Who knows? Maybe it was a natural disaster.
Barely a quarter of an hour later, the ruckus outside stopped. Lotte was willing to bet a bellyful of ADAM (if she had one) that the room was in complete shambles. It didn't matter to her, though. All she wanted was for the monster to go away. Why couldn't it just go away? She let out soft sigh, forgetting her position momentarily, until the footsteps stopped completely. What… What's happening, the tween thought in alarm. Just like the figure outside, she froze up. Then a new sound came from the silent-but-deadly animal. Sniffing, like her ADAM sense.
Then, the thing or person outside her hiding place merely walked away out the same automated door to the hall in which he entered from. No more evil baddy, once again, the Little Sister was safe for the moment. Unsure where it went, she only opened the crawl door half an inch before peeking out. If she had not leaned forward to do so, a large chunk of cement would have smashed into her head. A drill, longer and sharper than any of those belonging to a Bouncer Daddy peeled away at the barrier of her happy place and dragged a scream from her throat.
She scrambled as far away from it as possible but then the opposite wall was under attack. Then the other and, finally, the last bit of protection she had left. The abuse continued until all four pieces of solid cement all but crumbled. Lotte couldn't look. Only when it was done did she look up. What she saw certainly wasn't the average Splicer… And it sort of resembled her Big Sister and Daddy.
It was male, she could tell by the outline of the silhouette. At least a good foot taller than her older sibling and, she judged from the condition of the room, at least as strong. Much like her Big Sister, his outfit was made from pieces of her Daddy's. A Rosie Daddy suit had been cut and sewed together to fit his lanky form. He wore three belts across his torso. Two belts were going in opposite diagonal directions to aid in supporting the two tanks on his back. The remaining one was used to keep a loose pair of pants from falling off his being. (She guessed he didn't like wearing the skin-tight scuba-suit pants alone.)
The kneepads attached to his extra pants as well as the boots he was wearing also were the Rosies. The drill, although it had clearly been upgraded and enhanced, was a signature of the Bouncer Daddy. His elbow guards looked a bit like the Bouncer's helmet, and his metal arm leg bands (welded to a closer fit) probably came from that Daddy, too. There was even an ode to the Alpha Series, shown by the weight hanging on a thick rope around his neck. The only thing about him that held no relevance to the Protectors was his helmet. Despite the obvious fact that he swam outside Rapture's walls, his helmet resembled a gas mask.
Uncertainly, Lotte rose to her feet. She stared openly at the man in front of her with curiosity written across her forehead. In response, the being she had considered a monster held out one of his hands and groaned. Correction, he tried his best to groan. His "voice" wavered and croaked, as if it were not fully developed yet. However, his attempt did not go unappreciated. She got up from the rumble and took his hand tugging him towards the door neither of them had gone through yet.
"Let's go find an angel, Prince Bubbles," Little Lotte offered patiently to which he nodded avidly.
Speaking of late, I'm regretting not watching the clock which means I'm gonna post this and head straight to bed. Sorry if there are any stupid mistakes. I read it over but I might have missed a few. Tomorrow I'll read it again and edit if things are need. Have a nice day!
Review… I beg of you. (That rhymed, too!)
