Hello to you all again. I hope you're enjoying this crazy crossover. My last chapter had plenty of action in it and I hope you all liked it. This chapter won't have nearly as much action, if any. I'm sorry if you were looking forward to more, but I can promise you that there will be plenty of action when the Rapture Civil War starts up.

I managed to get this written before the New Year started up. As January 1st marks my one-year anniversary as an active FanFiction writer, I decided to really get some writing posted. There's this chapter, Chapter 8 in my X-Men: Evolution fic, and since I got the Rising Tide expansion for Civilization: Beyond Earth for Christmas, I also re-edited my fics for that. I'll also post a chapter for "Hysteria Unbound" when I get the chance.

And to answer one of my reviewers (thank you), Alice will meet Delta soon in the story. I have no intention of her and Jack appearing when Delta is journeying through Rapture in 1968. Jack didn't make an appearance in that game (though he was mentioned) and I do intend to closely follow BioShock canon. With that said, here is Chapter 4 of WonderShock.

(Re-edited as of 6/14/2016)


Chapter 4: Settling In

November 18, 1958

"My word child, I've never seen anyone gather more tips than you did tonight. Jenkins made a good call hirin' you."

Alice had to smile at the older, black woman. Grace Holloway had a way of making anyone like her, a charisma that even she wasn't immune to. She was about equal to Alice in height, her caring, brown eyes resting in an equally brown, oval face, ringed by black curls poking out from underneath her signature cap. Most of her ensemble was either a calming green or a pleasant yellow that brought memories of the sun to mind. They had only met a few hours earlier and Alice had found it surprisingly easy to talk to her. It was a much nicer change of pace from most of her interactions with people. Also, the singer for the jazz club was one of the best that she had ever heard (right after her sister of course).

Right after moving her things into the new apartment, she had reported for her first shift at the Limbo Room. The interview with Ken Jenkins had been surprisingly quick earlier that day. Alice suspected that his decision to hire her had less to do with her skills as a waitress and more to do with her looks. He had probably made a job opening right then when she had walked in the door inquiring about one. At least the uniform she wore for the job was modest, though she would prefer the skirt be just a little longer.

"Thank you, Mrs. Holloway," Alice replied. It was nice to converse with someone who wasn't out to get either her, or something out of her. Those people were few and far between, and Cheshire didn't really count. He was more of a taciturn advisor.

"Your singing voice could easily rival Elizabeth Comstock's," she added. Alice had been to one of Sander Cohen's shows where his "Songbird" had performed. The raven-haired girl had a voice that could make a Big Daddy stop in its tracks to listen. Alice usually tried to forget that night. Not because of how sad Elizabeth Comstock's song had been, but because of something that Alice had seen afterwards in Fort Frolic's Atrium. Something that brought up memories so painful, and at the same time, possibilities of what could have been that were so joyful, she couldn't bring herself so ever listen to Elizabeth Comstock again; it brought up memories that were too raw.

"First, I'm not married, so you can drop the 'missus'." Grace said in a faux-serious voice, catching Alice's attention. "And second, please child, call me Grace." She smiled while adjusting her trademark hat, which seemed to hug her head and short hair.

"Very well Grace," Alice replied in her own "serious" voice. "In that case, please call me Alice. I'm hardly a child anymore."

'A pity,' she thought to herself. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wince at what she had said. She wasn't a child anymore, physically or mentally. Her childhood had ended far too early; the fire had thrown her into the world of adulthood in a city where if one didn't or weren't able to look out for oneself, one became a target for exploitation. No, she was no longer the little big-eyed girl who had loving parents and an older sister, whose only problems had been loneliness, who had dreamed up Wonderland and all of its inhabitants. That little girl was gone.

Grace's response drew Alice back into the present.

"It's a deal, Alice. You're just funnin' me," she suddenly added. "That Comstock girl's singin' has put her on every radio and stage in Rapture. Me, I'm just the singer of the Limbo Room in Skid Row." Grace narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment.

"Then again, I don't have to work with that Sander Cohen. He may be Rapture's favorite artist, but there's somethin'…wrong about him. I can't exactly figure out just what it is for the life of me."

Alice nodded in agreement as they entered the tunnel that connected Skid Row to the Deluxe and the rest of the Drop. "I have to agree. Artists can be quite peculiar in their habits, but Mr. Cohen seems to be another category entirely."

She thought back to some of his most recent works, along with the gossip and rumors surrounding him. His artworks had begun to take such dark undertones that they would have fit in the art collection of the Red Queen (if she had one) or some of Wonderland's shadier characters. The sense of hopelessness and despair that mixed with the ever-increasing disturbed nature of his paintings had many questioning the sanity of the man. She was hardly one to gossip, but she couldn't help overhearing some rather disturbing rumors about the man: people getting hurt or even dying when they couldn't match the desires and whims of Cohen's Muse. There were the wild parties and outings that he threw with his "disciples" that rivaled those of Oscar Calraca's, one of Rapture's most infamous playboys, in their debauchery and ADAM usage. And there was also that little tidbit about his "charity work" with those orphans to consider….

"If he's not careful, he's likely to earn a cell in Rutledge," she added.

"Isn't that the truth," Grace answered with an emphatic stamp of her foot. She watched a group of jellyfish swim by the tunnel's glass roof. "The special treatment he gets from Ryan probably had a hand in that. Seems everything that Ryan touches either dies or gets twisted into a former shadow of itself." She had lowered her voice when she got to Ryan's name, brown eyes fliting from one passing face to another, watching for any eavesdroppers.

Alice huffed in agreement. "I couldn't agree more. My family wasn't even here a year before they died in a fire, caused by a man that Ryan invited down to this wretched place," she added.

Grace looked at her sadly. "Honey, I'm so sorry to hear that. Seems that everyone here had either lost someone topside, or down here in this leakin' bathtub to some greedy low-life with no respect for human life." She sighed heavily as they continued on.

Alice remembered how she and her mother had been working on her singing just before she had gone to bed on that fateful night. It was one of the things that she could do better than Lizzie. A couple of months after arriving at Houndsditch, she had stopped by the Room to hear Grace sing. She had heard of her singing voice and even though Alice's own was far out of practice, she had wanted to hear a professional do it.

She hadn't been disappointed. Grace's singing had been superb, each note floating through the air to describe the sorrows of all who heard it, awakening the one emotion that Alice hadn't felt since she got out of Rutledge: hope. Hope that one day, somehow and someway, she would find the means to sort out her problems with her mind, with her life, and with her personal demons. It was only a temporary feeling, fading away after she left the Limbo, but that was one memory of Grace and that one elusive emotion that she was glad to hold on to.

Between each song (each rang of Dr. Sofia Lamb's altruistic beliefs), copies of Lamb's "Metamorphosis and Unity" had been handed out. Alice had took one just to be polite (she had come to hear Grace Holloway sing after all). Her curiosity satisfied, Alice hadn't heard Grace sing again except in passing. Ever since Lamb's arrest, Grace had been careful with the songs she sang and who was listening on her songs. A smart move in Alice's opinion.

A thought came to her mind as they came up on the Deluxe, where they both resided. "Grace," she began, "would you mind instructing me on how to sing? My mother taught me some of the essentials when I was a little girl, and I think she'd like it if I finished learning how."

The smile on Grace's face rivaled Cheshire's in size. The only differences were that Grace's smile was the right size for her face, and her teeth weren't blood-stained. "I'd love to honey, and don't you worry. It won't cost you a nickel. Why, I bet little Eleanor would just love to meet you."

Before Alice could reply, a fine, red mist appeared out of nowhere in front of the Deluxe's entrance, coalescing into a man with a soft crackling, as though the air was being forced out of its place, giving way to the mass of a much denser object.

"Good evening ladies," he greeted them with an easy smile. "I'm with the Rapture Tribune, would either of you know where I can find Ms. Alice Liddell?"

Alice had just barely stopped herself from whipping the Vorpal Blade out of Wonderland and slashing the throat of the potential threat. Her mind was still on the watch for anyone or anything about to kill her; the adrenaline rush from Suchong's earlier hadn't worked itself completely out of her system, and her mind was more or less in the kill-or-be-killed state it had adapted to while fighting in Wonderland. The last time, it had taken two months for her to work off her instincts to fight off the smallest things that startled her.

"Yes," she said, giving him a frown for startling her and Grace so. He wore a worn, brown jacket with bulging pockets; she could spy an audio diary poking out of one of them, threatening to rip it open. A heavily-modified camera hung down his front, a testament to hours of fine-tuning it for the perfect picture. Both his tie and his white shirt were stained various colors by the assortment of quick meals and coffee breaks he had hurried through. His cap had a card labeled "Press" stuck in it, and a limp cigarette hung from his smiling lips. His blue eyes were bright, bright with the light of a predator that's cornered its hapless prey, his weapon of choice the audio diary he held in one hand.

"I am she," she continued, knowing full well that he knew who she was. "What do you want me for?" Of course, the press would be hounding her now with all that evidence that she had presented to Ryan's constables on Bumby, hoping for the scoop on the latest of Rapture's scandals.

"I'm Nathan Presley," he introduced himself. "The Tribune's heard about your involvement in this story about Bumby and his real work, Ms. Liddell, and I was hoping to get your perspective on this. This is great stuff."

Alice couldn't help but bristle at the words "involvement" and "great stuff". If she had any idea what was really going on earlier, she would have stopped Bumby much sooner. And anyone who actively sought out such sordid occurrences as newsworthy events had a questionable moral compass at best. And was this who she thought it was?

"Aren't you that one reporter that wrote all those articles about me before?" she countered. "What was that you called me when I was transferred to Rutledge? 'Battered and crispy self', wasn't it? And that Dr. Wilson might need a suit of armor?"

Presley's smile wasn't so wide, and Grace was actively glaring at him now. He coughed loudly before replying. "The public likes some humor mixed into sad stories, keeps from depressing them to death, you see. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about it?" He held up the audio diary, his smile struggling under the looks he was receiving from the two women. "You'll be compensated for your time, of course," he nervously added, holding up some bills in his other hand.

Alice raised an eyebrow in thought before turning to Grace. "I'll catch up with you in a moment, Grace. It's time the public heard a first-hand account of who Bumby really was."

Grace gave her a searching look before nodding. "I'll be waiting in the lobby, Alice," she said, walking ahead.

As soon as Grace was out of earshot, Presley visibly relaxed. "Well then," he clicked his tongue, "let's get started." He held up the audio diary and clicked it on. "Nathan Presley, Story on Dr. Angus Bumby, Interview with Alice Liddell." He began actively pointing the device from her mouth to his and back again. "Ms. Liddell," he began, "did you have any suspicions before his death of Dr. Bumby's role as a supplier in child-trafficking?"

"No, and I wish I had found out earlier," Alice replied. "It was abominable what he was doing to them."

"Are there any indications that he was planning a similar role for you?"

"I was undergoing therapy with his 'sessions'; all they did was give me splitting headaches and make me forget my own childhood like he was with his other victims, so yes."

"Is it true that he was involved in the fire that killed your parents and sister?"

"I'll say he was!" Now was her chance to denounce him as the monster that he truly was. "I couldn't remember him before the fire due to his machinations with my mind, but I remember him now. He wanted my sister Lizzie, and when she wanted nothing to with him, he snuck into our home, had his way with her before killing her, and then burned our apartment down to cover up his crimes! He intended to use me as a surrogate 'Lizzie' whenever he wasn't selling me as a 'high-class' prostitute."

He stared at her, bugged-eyed, his cigarette dropping from his now-gaping mouth. "Holy crap…Can you prove any of that?"

"I'm positive that the audio diaries I supplied to Ryan's men will collaborate with my story."

Presley went on with the interview, Alice answering every question he asked. They went over everything the reporter could think of: how she had escaped the Liddell's burning apartment, how clouded her memory had been after she had been released from Rutledge, the investigation into her possible involvement with the fire, the hallucinations that had still plagued her, Bumby's actions and attitudes towards the orphans and herself, the memory-destroying effects of his therapy sessions, the identities of his buyers, her sudden relapse only a few days earlier, and her slowly improving mental state.

In hindsight, Alice couldn't believe all the signs that Bumby had been up to something abnormal, all the indications that she ignored in the face of her own suffering. If Caterpillar was right about her punishment for disregarding the orphans still on its way, it was going to be something horrible, something that would add itself to the pain still tormenting her soul.

"And he also sold some of the younger girls to Suchong and Tenenbaum, correct?" he reaffirmed.

"Yes, that's right. Though those two don't strike me as the type that would harbor appetites that Bumby was interested in satisfying," she answered. With any luck, that would be enough to draw the reporters and Ryan Security off her tail when they caught wind of the attack on Suchong. It would also get at least some people thinking about those two and drawing the connection between them and the Little Sisters.

"Alright Ms. Liddell, that's all the questions I had for you." He clicked off the audio diary and held out the money to her, which she accepted. "Would you mind if I took a quick picture for the Tribune?"

"Very well, if you feel obliged to," Alice said in a bored tone. She jumped when the man suddenly vanished in a burst of red light and black shadow, accompanied by a sound that oddly brought the image of a knife slicing though air to mind, leaving behind some shrinking substance that looked like rose petals of all things before those disappeared entirely.

The crackling behind her caused Alice to instinctively turn towards the noise, only to be momentarily blinded by the flash from the camera's bulb.

"Perfect!" Presley called out.

He slipped a few more bills into Alice's hand as she blinked, trying to rid her vision of the afterimages generated by the sudden light now plaguing her.

"You were very helpful today. Oh, and Alice? I honestly meant what I said when we at the Tribune wished you well in that last article." Alice's eyes readjusted themselves enough that she was able to catch his reassuring wink before he vanished in a burst of red, black, and rose petals.

"Teleportation plasmid," Grace said as she got up from her seat in the lobby a few minutes later. "I've heard it just tears you apart and puts you back together again. They call 'em Houdini splicers." She grimaced and shook her head. "I prefer walkin' to the idea of being ripped up and put together like some piece of cloth. What if I lost somethin' while I was doin' it?"

"I'm sure that they covered that part while they were still testing it," Alice said wryly. At Grace's revolted expression, she added, "Everyone knows that they maim or kill their test subjects, the buyers just don't want to think about how much pain and blood went into making their plasmids and gene tonic.

"Now do you mean Eleanor as in Eleanor Lamb?" She had heard that Dr. Lamb had asked Grace to take care of her daughter while she was in Persephone. "What is she like?" 'There's no telling how the progeny of someone like Lamb will act,' she thought.

"Oh, she's just the most precious child you ever did see," Grace almost gushed as they entered the Deluxe's elevator, more than happy to get off the topic of plasmid test subjects. "She'll be a real beauty when she grows up, and she's cleverer than they come. She can even do that numbers work with letters."

"Algebra?" Alice offered, a little surprised. She remembered adults saying similar things about her writing and poetry skills before the fire. After Rutledge, both her writing and artistic skills had flatlined, while her atrocious mathematics had remained the same. She got as far as long division, and then her brain shut down. She only knew of algebra and calculus thanks to Lizzie's stronger aptitude in that skillset.

"That's right, and she even does it in fractions," Grace said with a hint of pride in her voice. Alice had to admit that was very impressive. From what she had heard, Eleanor Lamb couldn't be more than seven or eight years old, and she was already at that level of mathematics?

"I'll have to meet her then. It's not every day one gets the opportunity to meet a child prodigy," Alice replied. "Would tomorrow work by any chance?"

"Drop by any time before your shift begins," Grace answered. "Oh, and don't let anyone outside the Drop know I'm teachin' you for free. The scandal would ruin me," she joked.

Alice gave a short laugh as she disembarked from the Deluxe's elevator. "Only in Rapture is that a scandal. Good night, Grace."

"Good night, Alice," Grace answered as the elevator began its ascent to the third floor where the singer made her home. As Alice made her way to her new apartment she couldn't help but wonder at how quickly she and Grace had built up rapport. They were from completely different backgrounds and had entirely different lives, yet they seemed to get along very well. Grace seemed nice enough that Alice had felt that she could ask her for singing lessons. It was certainly refreshing to find an individual like Grace in Rapture.

And then there was Nathan Presley and his mixed signals. On one hand, he had no problem showing that he was out looking for the most horrible of stories to report on and that he had no issues with making light of others' misfortunes. On the other, he had listened to every word she said without questioning her mental state at the time, and he would be reporting on Bumby's abuse and exploitation. He had also paid her for the both the interview and the picture, and she desperately needed the money.

'Now I just have to make sure that I don't completely muck up the meeting with Eleanor.'

Alice always felt a little uneasy around children. Her own childhood had been ruined so completely that she had a hard time empathizing with them, and with adults in general. How many people, adults and children, were there that knew what she had been through? The loss of her family, her home, her sanity, and the revelation of her psychiatrist's true nature was simply something that most people had no conception of. No one ever had a perfect childhood, everyone had lost at least one person they loved, some had suffered in their own minds while some writhed in agony at the will of others, but how many others knew her own experience firsthand? All of those one after the other?

And to top it off, Eleanor was very different from most of the children that Alice had interacted with at the asylum. She apparently had never known her father (Alice had never heard of Dr. Lamb being married or even having a lover), her mother was gone but not dead, and she sounded like a very intelligent little girl. Alice could put on a smile for ordinary children and maybe tell them a story about Wonderland's happier times, but how was she was she supposed to act with a little girl that could already figure out the value of X in an algebraic equation?

Alice continued to ponder this as she walked the short distance to her apartment, 211. She had to admit, the rooms were much better than anything else in the Drop. One could tell though, that everything in the rooms was dirt-cheap. Sinclair seemed to have a talent for cutting corners in order to make a profit. Alice wondered if that was something that he was naturally proficient at, or if he stayed up late at night thinking up ways to make money through morally ambiguous methods. Either way it made him quite a dislikable character, at least in her eyes.

The genetic scanner set above the Securis door to her apartment beeped and the door opened to admit her. Alice sighed heavily as she entered her new home and looked around. Like she had thought earlier, it was nicer than anything else in the Drop, but still dirt-cheap. The lights flickered intermittently, threatening to go out at the slightest provocation. The counters were cheap coral, a far cry from the craftsmanship lined Bumby's desk; all the wood furniture, floors, walls, and ceiling stunk of the dried salt that clung to the wood taken from old sunken ships as opposed to the wood that was grown in Arcadia or brought down from the surface; the appliances were rusting, and every single "window" was actually a salvaged submarine porthole. Better than the Drop's other options, but still cheap.

She decided that she would have a quick bite to eat before calling it a day. She had worked hard that night, waiting tables, delivering orders, helping drunken patrons out the door, and many other tasks that came with being a waitress at the Limbo Room. At least her tips had been pretty nice, for patrons that lived in the Drop. The payments for both the picture and the interview were also nice additions for the day.

"Getting used to the 'normal life', Alice?" Alice looked up from the cold fish she was heating up on the stove to see Cheshire grinning at her over the kitchen counter, his front paws clasped together right on the edge.

"Blasted Cat, where have you been?" she scolded. "I've been worried about you ever since I left Suchong's clinic." The last time she had seen the feline, he had been distracting the Big Daddy. "I appreciate your intervention with the Bouncer, but you couldn't have shown up sooner?"

"No, I couldn't," he replied. "I thought I would wait until you had a spare moment for me to properly reprimand you for your recklessness."

"Recklessness? Now you see here-," Alice began.

"You had what you wanted, but no sooner do you see Suchong as he truly is then you fly off the handle and attempt to murder him in front of everyone in that clinic," Cheshire interrupted. "There will be an alert out for a knife-wielding madwoman. With any luck, the description of you will be too general for anyone to properly connect the dots. Your supposed ignorance as to why Suchong wanted those little girls in the first place will help to deter any investigators that question Mr. Presley, a clever move I will admit. Overall however, your actions were rash, even for you. A loose cannon damages itself more than anything or anyone else."

Alice was about to protest again, but she stopped and sighed. "I hate to admit it Cat, but you're right. That was foolish of me and I could have gotten killed or put in a cell." Her head popped up as she realized something with a shudder. "Or even put back in Rutledge."

"Yes," Cheshire agreed. "Your successful slaying of Bumby was due more to dumb luck than to any real skill on your part. Tell me Alice," he paused and gave her a searching look. "Do you honestly have it in you to kill a fellow human being? Not some mindless pawn of the Red Queen or the Dollmaker's, or simply pushing some monster into the path of an oncoming public transit vehicle, but killing a human being and watching the life fade from his eyes?"

Alice sat down on a nearby stool and considered the question. 'With Bumby, I merely pushed him. Yes, I did kill him, but I didn't deal the death blow personally. The Atlantic Express did. With Suchong, I would have had to finish him personally. Could I do that? Would I see his humanity in his last moments? Or would there be nothing but the monster? Worse, would I be the monster?'

"I…I don't know, Cat," she finally admitted. "In hindsight, all I did was to endanger myself, both in the lab and possibly now. I'll have to be careful now that Rapture Security will be looking for a black-haired woman with a gigantic kitchen knife."

Cheshire nodded, narrowing his orange eyes. "Hmmm. That's as satisfactory as any answer I'm going to receive from you. Now," he ignored the glare she was giving him, "let's establish a few 'guidelines'. If you're going to kill someone, a sane human being, do it as stoically and as impersonally as possible. Nothing sadistic. I don't care if you get creative with your methods, just don't do it for fun.

"Also, it would be good for you to start investing in plasmids now that we know for certain you're immune from the side effects. If I hadn't provided a target for that big oaf to focus on, you would be a blood smear on Suchong's lab floor. Invisibility will only get you so far." He got down from the counter and sauntered over to the door, picking up a catalog by the door with his mouth. Sinclair had apparently put it in the apartment for advertising.

Cheshire set it down on the kitchen counter in front of Alice. On the cover, a man lit up a neon sign proclaiming Evolve Today! with a bolt of lightning from his fingers. "I believe that a good deal is on page 22. I'd send them a letter via pneumo before going to bed."

Alice glanced at the clock and then sighed. "Very well, Cat. I'll make it a quick one then." The scent of something burning came to her nose and she looked back towards the fish on the stove. "Confound it all!" she yelped as she hurriedly shut off the burner. Thankfully, the fish wasn't too burnt. "Care for half of a too-well-done fish, Cheshire?" she asked, holding the pan up for his inspection.

Cheshire rolled his eyes. "As if I would lower myself to dine on anything but a Wonderland fish. Do you have any idea what that fish has been swimming in outside of Rapture?" He managed to wrinkle his nose.

"I try not to think about it," Alice replied as she got cut a small slice off of her half and put it to her mouth. "See?" She swallowed it.

Cheshire simply rolled his eyes before yawning again. "Good to see that you still need me and my advice; I'd be of little use to you otherwise. I'd best be off. Good night, Alice."

Alice gave him a half-hearted "good night" of her own as he vanished. She finished eating the fish and found the page that Cheshire had recommended. Apparently, the business was a one-man operation that specialized in going from door-to-door selling plasmids "in the comfort of your own home". The prices were slightly higher than that which you would find at a store, but then again, the man came directly to one's door and Alice had a little bit of money to burn from her inheritance.

She penned a quick letter expressing her interest in purchasing some "defensive" plasmids. She gave her address and the times she would be available to see their options. After hurrying to the pneumo office in the Deluxe's lobby to send the letter off, Alice went back to her apartment and to her new bed. After changing into her nightgown and turning off the lights, she stared up at the ceiling and thought about her day.

It felt like a lifetime ago. She had gone out looking for evidence on what had happened to those young orphan girls (when it was pretty obvious what had happened to them), wound up drinking her first plasmid, learning she was immune to ADAM sickness, attempting to kill a man, receiving her inheritance, working at her first real job, and agreeing to meet Eleanor Lamb, the prodigy daughter of Dr. Sofia Lamb.

Why did her life have to change so suddenly all the time? It was getting so tiresome.

Alice closed her eyes and began breathing deeply and regularly to relax. She still had some things to do, but worrying about them right now wouldn't help.

'I hope that plasmid salesman gets here soon. I can't help but sense I'm going to need as many as I can get my han….'

BS+AMA=WS

November 19, 1958

At about eight o'clock, an hour after Alice finished preparing for the day, the salesman appeared at her door. He introduced himself as "Matthew Fink of Fink Door-to-Door Plasmids". Alice could honestly say that she didn't care for him. His suit was just like Jack Splatter's: its look of purported opulence so glaringly obvious. His darting eyes and expression reminded her strongly of a rat, a pack rat to be more specific. His tone of voice, and its volume, reminded her of the Carpenter, which didn't help his attempts to build rapport with her at all. She also didn't care for where he cast his gaze when he thought she wasn't looking. She wondered to herself just how he had obtained his wares. He and Sinclair would have gotten along famously.

"Now here are the defense plasmids you expressed an interest in," he said animatedly as he lined them up on her counter. They were all drinkables, though Alice could see some injectables poking out of the large briefcase he carried his merchandise in.

"This little number is called 'Old Man Winter.'" He pretended to shiver as he picked up the bottle. "It's the drinkable version of Winter Blast. Need ice for a party? With this plasmid, you can just hold your hand over your guests' glasses and the problem is solved. It's also good for if something is burning on the stove or if a young, attractive lady such as yourself needs to hold off the hordes of young men at her door."

Alice groaned inwardly. 'Oh no. Not one of those salesmen, the type who use flattery for potential customers. Attempting to give me an exalted opinion of my looks or intelligence will you nowhere.' "I've heard that the Old Man Winter ice is dry ice. Is there any accuracy to that rumor?" she asked.

"Oh that," Fink made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I can assure you, they're just rumors. Old Man Winter creates pure ice water. Not a trace," he frowned as carbon dioxide was the lowest of all gases, "of carbon dioxide or any other-."

"I'll take it," Alice said before he could go into further detail. She didn't care if the ice was carbon dioxide or water or helium. If it froze things, that was all that mattered.

Fink looked surprised at being interrupted and blinked before going on. "This next number is called 'Possession'. This one actually combines the effects of several different plasmids for a truly spectacular result."

"Which ones?" Alice asked, her eyes sparking with interest. Multiple plasmids combined into one would help her save on money and on time spent looking for those plasmids individually.

Fink's lips twitched into a grin that said 'I have you now'. "You can only hack machines with this one initially, but with the purchase of its upgrade," he continued, "you can even make people respond to your whims, like Hypnotize. If through some bizarre set of circumstances you don't have a man in your life, miss, now's your opportunity to get one." He winked suggestively while miming a hypnotized man walking.

Alice did not appreciate forward advances and the look she gave Fink conveyed what she thought of that. His own expression showed surprise and offense that she wasn't taking the bait. He hurriedly put his smile back on and turned back to his plasmids.

"I'm usually hesitant to show this next one to the ladies but you strike me as something special." He put down Possession and lifted a familiar green bottle, "Peeping Tom grants the double-power of invisibility and X-ray vision to the-,"

"I already have that one," Alice interrupted. 'Your intuitive impression of me is more correct than you can begin to imagine.'

An affronted frown struck Fink's face for an instant before his salesman smile returned. "Oh, but do you have the upgrades for it? The Cloak and Vision modifications remove the EVE cost for the invisibility and X-ray vision, respectively. You have to be standing still for that to be in effect though. Perfect for turning the tables on the boys and spying on them for a change." He winked at her again.

'Oh for… if dealing with this flirtatious, gutter-minded rat of a salesman is Cheshire's idea of a joke, it is in incredibly poor taste,' Alice thought with disdain. "I'll consider those," she replied coolly.

"Shock Jockey," he jumped as though shocked when he touched the purple, lightning-topped bottle, "is Electro Bolt's drinkable counterpart. Oh, did I mention that the drinkable versions allow you to lay down traps?"

"Traps?" Alice was interested at this.

"Let's say someone's chasing you." Fink began to quicken his gait and his words. "He's bigger than you, has plasmids, and there's no one around to help you." He did his best to imitate what he thought a chased, panicked Alice would look like (very badly). "You round a corner, and remembering the Shock Jockey plasmid you so intelligently purchased from Fink Door-to-Door, you lay down a trap. When he rounds the corner and steps on your trap, zap!" Fink convulsed his hands, imitating an electric-shock victim. "He won't know what hit him."

"That explains the higher price," Alice mused.

Fink looked concerned for a moment. "Well, yes," he conceded, "but the drinkable plasmids have a lot more ADAM than the injectables." He reached over to the counter and held up a brown bottle with a horse-and-rider-stopper for her inspection.

Alice read the label. "Bucking Bronco? Why is Ryan Industries giving these drinkable plasmids such odd names?"

Fink shrugged. "With the threats of Fontaine and Atlas gone, Ryan wants the new ones to have 'friendlier', more catchy names to appeal to buyers. It's all advertising. These things can still be lethal, no matter what you call them."

"What does Bucking Bronco do? Give one the power of a mule's kick?" Alice asked snidely.

"From what I can make of the description," Fink chuckled, "it allows you to levitate objects or enemies in the air. Similar to telekinesis except you shoot it out like a projectile," Fink explained, fluttering his fingers in the air before jerking his hand forward like he had thrown a ball. "It's quite the plasmid to have for lifting heavy objects, or people."

"I like the sound of that one," Alice commented.

Now," he picked up a red-colored bottle with a demonic woman for a stopper. "I have one here that'll go along with your fiery personality. Devil's Kiss allows you to lob a fiery grenade at your enemies, exploding and setting them aflame. With thi-,"

"No!" Alice said emphatically. "I'm not interested in that one."

Now a look of clear annoyance spread across Fink's face. He obviously wasn't used to potential customers talking to him like she was. "But miss," he almost growled, "if I can just explain the psychological advantage you'll have over your enemies-,"

"I said NO." Alice had been sitting down for the sales pitch, but now she stood up. She only came up to Fink's shoulder, but her glare more than made up for the height disadvantage. The green of her eyes was acidic as she glared at him. "My family was killed in a fire. I have no interest whatsoever in wielding the element that destroyed them."

Fink backed down real quick, straightening his jacket nervously. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I never would have mentioned it." He seemed to be mentally scrambling for a recovery, or else lose her as a customer. His eyes lit up as he remembered something. "In conciliation, there's this plasmid that I would be happy to sell at a discount to you." He reached over to his briefcase and picked out a brochure, holding it out to her. "There is a plasmid in development that I'm sure you would love. I had to cut a special deal with Ryan himself to receive the first bottles of this one when it comes out. It's on page three if you're interested."

Alice took the brochure after giving him one more look. On page three, she found herself studying an advertisement for "Undertow". The EVE-blue bottle featured octopus motifs: a picture of a red-eyed, grey-skinned octopus on the front, silver tentacles sheathing the bottle in a protective embrace, and a tentacle-themed cap to top it all. "The power of the sea at your fingertips," she read aloud. "Yes, this sounds much more to my taste. Is there any way to order this one ahead of time?"

"As soon as Ryan makes good on his deal, I can bring one to you personally." Fink's eyes lit up as the wheels in his head began to churn out a new deal. Judging by the way the muscles in his arms and legs spasmed, Alice knew that he had just resisted the urge to dance. "Normally, I would charge full price to make a profit on that kind of deal. But for you, how does a mere decrease of fifteen percent sound for this particular beauty?"

'That's still quite a lot of money,' Alice mused. 'Lets see if I can haggle my way for a better deal.' "I'll take the rest, except for that fire plasmid, if you'll sell me the Undertow at half price."

Fink's entire face lit up. "Is there anything else I can pique your interest with?" He steepled his fingers together with excitement at the thought of even more of Alice's dollars making their way into his wallet.

"Yes, do you have any gene tonics that allow for more efficient EVE usage or physical upgrades?" Alice inquired. She had no desire to run out of ADAM in the middle of a situation again, and she really needed to develop some body strength. The differences between her real body and her Wonderland boy were more than just looks, it was strength and stamina too.

"Miss, I have both," beamed Fink. "EVE Saver and SportBoost. I recommend buying both the usual and the upgraded versions of each. I should warn you, the tonics are injectable only." He plunged an invisible needle into his arm, grimacing. "They haven't come out with drinkable versions of those yet." Now he was downing an invisible glass.

"Pain in the short term equals gain in the long," Alice half-smiled. "How much for the Old Man Winter, Possession, Shock Jockey, Peeping Tom upgrades, Bucking Bronco, gene tonics, and the Undertow as soon as Ryan delivers it to you?"

Fink was grinning as he told her the amount, as he counted the bills and pocketed them, and as he left the apartment, reminding her that he was only a pneumo line away. "Remember, splice responsibly, and you won't have any worries about ADAM sickness," he managed to get in before the door closed behind him.

"Oh, I'm positive that I won't experience any problems with that, thank you very much," Alice sniffed at the door. "And I'll go to a store next time; most managers don't resort to such forward, inappropriate advances."

'I'll have to wait for a little while before I buy any more plasmids. That purchase cost me over half of the inheritance money,' Alice thought, checking the now thinner envelop. "It appears I'll have to tighten my belt before I can splice up anymore," she said aloud. "At least I have my job."

She picked up the Old Man Winter and studied it. "I believe I'll start with you," she said as she popped the top off. She felt goosebumps rise along her neck as the fluid washed down her throat. Although it was at room temperature, it tasted cold. Like someone had managed to bottle the very essence of cold itself; the snowflake, the glacier, the iceberg and the icicle made into a drink.

Alice watched as the hallucination commenced. Permafrost crept up her arms to her hands. Once her hands were completely covered, needle-sharp icicles sprouted painlessly from the back of her hands and from her knuckles. Ghostly vapor first drifted off her hand, and then began to form in a whirlwind. It sounded like an Arctic wind was blowing through her apartment, or her head, she couldn't tell which. Her vision was obscured by pure white. She felt like she could be as indestructible as a glacier, as swift and dangerous as an avalanche, and as sharp and deadly as an icicle. These sensations of empowerment, now that was what she could get addicted to. She had been powerless for so long and now… the ice and the wind subsided suddenly.

Alice could still feel the cold along with the EVE flowing through her veins.

'Well, that answers the question about the drinkables replenishing your EVE. Maybe the injectables are a better option economically. The high price of these drinkables is justified but still too high.'

Deciding to test her new plasmid, Alice poured a glass of water, walked across the room, and then turned and shot a white projectile at the glass, her hand covered in frost. In an instant, the glass was covered in ice and its contents were frozen solid. Alice approached the glass and tapped the water with a forefinger, satisfied. 'Carbon dioxide or dihydrogen monoxide, it works perfectly for my purposes.'

The application of the gene tonics had no hallucinatory effects, but they were much more painful, even if the rush brought on by the ADAM made her feel good. This was due mainly to the size of the needles used, as well as the volume of substance that was injected.

"Ow! Bloody hell. If I ever find the complete idiot that decided it was a good idea for the needles to be this size…," Alice growled as she flung the last of the needles into the trash can. She could feel the SportsBoost affecting her body already, making her stronger. When she was in Wonderland, her body had become much less frail, the body needed to dodge and fight against the horrors in her mind. She would done nothing but embarrass herself if she had tried to lift the Hobby Horse in the real world. And now with the enhancements….

Alice entered her bathroom to get out a First Aid Kit for the massive, bleeding holes left by the needles. To her surprise, she just had to clean up the blood. 'That's right, ADAM has extensive healing and antibacterial properties.' The holes left from the needles were now just scars, which she could hide with long sleeves or a little makeup.

Curious at the ease with which she moved and felt, Alice stood in front of the mirror and stripped her clothes off. She couldn't help but stare at her image in the mirror. Her muscles were much more defined now, not bulging, but definitely larger. Alice felt her bicep, smiling at how firm it was. 'If only I could have pushed Bumby with this. He would have suffered a concussion against the other side of the train tunnel before getting ran over.'

Alice got dressed and decided to head over to Grace's. There was no time like the present for meeting Eleanor and getting started on her singing lessons. After that, she had one thing that was imperative she accomplished.

"Alice," Grace said in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you until later." She wasn't wearing her hat, so Alice took a moment to study Grace's normally-covered head. The only real difference between her hair and Alice's was its shorter length and its curls; the color and gloss was almost the same as hers.

"I can come back later if you like," Alice started to say.

"Come on in," Grace interrupted. "No time like the present, I always say."

"I couldn't agree more," Alice replied as the door shut behind her. Apartment 307 was practically identical to 211 except in layout. Ahead of them was a kitchen/dining room with a room to the left and an entryway directly across the room from them.

"Eleanor's in her room. Eleanor, someone's here to see you," she called. To Alice, "How about you two get acquainted while I get tidied up?"

"Sounds agreeable to me," Alice replied as she headed over to what she assumed was Eleanor's room.

She had to smile at the difference between this room and the rest of the apartment. It was pink for one thing, very pink. One wall was taken up by bookcases and a dresser; instead of the toys that would normally take up space on the floor, books on physics, psychology, sociology, and other scientific disciplines were scattered here and there. A black-board covered with mathematical equations stood in one corner, next to a little height chart that detailed Eleanor's growth and that of her "Teddy". She had evidently lived with Grace for the past few years. A bedside table added its own solid shade to the pastel ceilings, walls, and tile floor. The only thing thing that wasn't any shade of pink was the blue bedspread. Eleanor sat at the short, round table in front of the bed, staring into a microscope.

Her hair, which trailed down her back in two little pigtails, was just as dark as Alice's. Her forehead was broad for a child's, as if adding a visual clue to her intelligence. Just like any other child of Caucasian descent in Rapture, her skin was pale as ivory. When she looked up at Alice, her eyes were a pale blue, reminding the older girl of the sky she herself had gazed upon as a child. The intelligence in her bright eyes was only matched by the smile she gave Alice, revealing milk-white teeth, a few of which were crooked, but didn't detract from its brightness.

"Are you Alice, the waitress who wants to sing?" the little girl asked, her bright eyes going over the older girl with interest.

Alice forced herself to smile; it was something that she really didn't do instinctively, especially with children. She just couldn't identify with them (as Dr. Lamb would probably put it). "Yes, and you're Eleanor?"

"I am," she piped up, "and this is my mum's microscope. Do you want to take a peek?" Eleanor moved off to one side and pushed the microscope towards Alice.

"I'd love to." Alice knelt on the floor and moved her hair out of her face as she put her eyes to the device. "What exactly am I looking at?" Remembering the microscope that her Poppa had brought down to Rapture for her and Lizzie, she adjusted the controls for the microscope's focus, attempting to get a better look.

"Fish scales. They're much more colorful than I thought they would be."

Alice had to agree with the younger girl as she finished focusing. A rainbow of colors leapt out from the scales, imitating the rainbow of a rainy day turning to sunlight, a sight that she hadn't beheld in years.

"You know," she said, "these colors remind me of a rainbow, a rainbow underneath the sea." She glanced over at Eleanor. "Do you know what a rainbow is?"

When Eleanor shook her head ardently, Alice proceeded to describe one as Eleanor showed her more and more specimens underneath the lenses of the microscope. A few yards away, Grace smiled as she listened to the two girls, so alike despite their age difference and upbringings.

"Can you guess what this is?" Eleanor asked, sliding another glass cover in front of the scope for Alice to examine.

"I have absolutely no idea."

"That's a cell from an ADAM slug. Mum told me to be extra careful with that one."

Alice studied the cell with renewed interest. Somewhere within this cell was the secret to ADAM, something that gave ADAM slugs the ability to secrete this substance that could do so many interesting and varied things to DNA, to the genetic code that decided everything about a species and about an individual. The cell itself resembled any that one might find inside of a living thing, but for some strange reason, it was this living thing in particular that had the power to literally alter the building blocks of life.

Alice was interrupted from her musings by Grace. "I'm ready for your first lesson, Alice. Let's hear you sing so I know where to start."

BS+AMA=WS

Alice spent the next hour and a half learning from Grace. The older woman was impressed by what Alice could remember from childhood and helped her to refine her rougher and inexperienced points. When lunch came around, Alice accepted Grace's invitation to the meal and conversed with her about singers both in Rapture and on the surface while alternately listening to Eleanor talk about the things like the microscope and other technical devices she liked to play with.

"Have you heard about this 'rock-and-roll' that's becoming popular on the surface?" Alice asked after swallowing a bite of her sandwich. Grace seemed to be really good at making those.

"Yes, and I hope it stays up there." Grace made a disgusted face. "That's not music, that's just noise. If that's what finally causes World War III, I won't be one bit surprised."

"I like it," piped up Eleanor.

"Where did you hear it?" asked Grace, looking puzzled.

"I think I heard some the last time I snuck out of Mum's," answered Eleanor, looking a little guilty. Only a little.

"You snuck out of your house at your age?" Alice gave Eleanor an odd (and admiring) look.

Eleanor shrugged. "I used to do it all the time. Mum even installed security systems, though they didn't do much good. They were easy to hack."

"Eleanor," chided Grace.

"I've never tried to sneak out of your home, Aunt Grace," Eleanor said innocently.

Alice's head popped up as soon as she heard the word "hack". One of her newly-bought plasmids, Possession, would allow her to hack machines. But it would be a good thing to be able to hack machines using her own two hands, save her a lot of EVE.

Alice put the last bit of her sandwich into her mouth and wiped her hands with her napkin. Swallowing, she stood to her feet. "Thank you kindly for the meal, and for the lessons, Grace. I believe I'd better go. I have…an errand to run."

"Pleasure to have you for a student, Alice," Grace replied. "Same time tomorrow?"

"I now have something to look forward to." When Grace got up with the dishes and her back was turned, Alice leaned down to whisper in Eleanor's ear. "Would you mind instructing me on how to hack electronic devices?"

"Only if you tell me more about the surface," Eleanor whispered back.

"Deal." Alice picked up her bag and strode to the door. "I'll see you tonight at the Limbo then, Grace?" she asked aloud.

"That you will, Alice," Grace said above the sound of the dish water running. "Tell her bye, Eleanor."

"Bye-bye Alice," Eleanor piped up, already headed towards her microscope.

"Goodbye Eleanor. See you tomorrow." Alice heard the door close behind her and began to make her way back to her apartment. She had to grab a few things before going out, namely a bottle of EVE and enough cash to buy a gun. She honestly needed to sit down and write up a budget for the rest of her inheritance, as well as her waitress' salary, tips, and any other cash she came across. At this rate she would be penniless again at the end of the week.

'I wonder what Momma and Poppa would think of all this. Me, all on my own, and using the money they left me to buy plasmids and pistols. And Momma was so horrified the time I found Poppa's bottle of scotch in his study. I believe she gave him quite the earful over that. This would leave her quite speechless.'

Alice smiled at the memory as she entered her apartment and gathered what she needed. Bumby had been so wrong about memory. At one point she had swallowed every lie that man fed her so that she could forget the painful memories of the fire and its aftermath. What a fool she had been to ever listen to that man. If only she had remembered his involvement in the fire sooner. Then again, it might not have ended as well. She would never know, and it was just as well that she didn't.

Cat would advise against her considering what could have happened. She could almost hear that gloating voice of his telling her: "It is useless to consider what could have happened, Alice, for it could have gone an infinite number of directions. Best to concern yourself with what is than what could have been, lest you want to eventually end back up in Rutledge."

As if the fact that she knew a figment of her imagination better than she did most people wasn't maddening enough.

One of the things that she had recovered in her childhood memories were those of Aster Bunnymund, who sold eggs in the Farmer's Market in Arcadia and set out Easter eggs for children to find on Easter Sunday. He was the only one outside her family who listened to her tales of Wonderland without ridiculing her about them. She had completely forgotten about him in the aftermath of the fire and no one had mentioned him. She had been to the Market several times over the past year and she had walked by his old place, which was now a fruit-and-vegetable stand.

As Alice left the Deluxe, she knew one thing for certain: She had no intention of losing anyone else she cared for and loved. She going to find Aster and make sure he was alright. She had the memories, now she just needed to affirm that the flesh-and-blood person was still in the land of the living.

'Out of all my loved ones, only Nanny and Aster now remain. Radcliffe no longer counts; he made that quite clear yesterday. I've lost so much. My family, my childhood, and my faith in humanity. Truly, there is only one thing worth fighting for in this cruel world, and that is the people we love and cherish.'


I figured that since Grace and Alice worked in the same place, they would meet and Alice would be introduced to Eleanor. As for Matthew Fink, I couldn't resist the quasi-cameo from BioShock: Infinite. Jeremiah Fink would have loved Rapture and definitely would have fit in more than he did in Columbia. As he would be elderly or possibly dead by the time Rapture was founded, I thought that a descendant of his would be great for the story. Do you think I did a good job with him?

Don't worry, Alice will have to use the injectable plasmids as the war starts and the drinkables are tossed out due to their ADAM requirements. The idea of including Bucking Bronco and Undertow was brought on by A Dream's End by Star Tours Traveler.

The reason why she bought so many is this: She's been at the mercy of others for so long and she's had enough of being helpless. I'm not going to make her overly powerful on plasmids; probably around the same strength as Good Jack when he comes in. She will definitely be a force to be reckoned with when the war starts and in its aftermath. Feel free to leave a review below or PM with your thoughts. Happy New Year and happy writing!