Gilbert Alexander:

A fascinating relationship:

The relationship between Mister Fontaine and Clayton Lokken is fascinating to watch. At first glance I assumed he was only being nice to the boy to keep control of his mother, but after further analysis I have come to the conclusion that the fondness is genuine. For both parties it would seem.

I have now taken to observing their interactions, Mister Fontaine seems to try and hide the fact he actually likes the child, but is decidedly softer with the boy.

I shall update as my observations continue.

"What was the thing I told ya', kid? Don't make this a habit? Think it was something along those lines."

Frank narrowed his eyes at the kid who was standing at the foot of his desk, peering over the top of it with those hauntingly similar eyes.

Like always, Clayton found him and now that him found he… it didn't look like he was going to go anywhere any time soon. Frank didn't like the kid wandering around the Futuristics building looking for him, just in case he came across something he shouldn't. Like the test subject, but they were kept safely away in the labs. No way the kid could get there.

He hoped the kid couldn't get there at least.

Clayton was a tricky little bastard. He'd also become quite confident recently, which was good. He should at least feel good about himself, first step towards an indestructible ego. That didn't mean Fontaine appreciated his time being wasted by annoying visits of kid he could… tolerate.

Shouldn't of been nice to him, he scolded himself. You brought this on yaself, mook, now ya' gotta deal with the consequences of being nice. Hope ya happy.

He was, in fact, not happy. Not happy at all.

The teleport plasmid was proving to be a bigger headache than he'd like and Sinclair was running out of test subjects for Suchong and Tenenbaum to play with. Not to mention Ryan was breathing down his neck constantly and his man Sullivan was getting a little too close for comfort. Then Limey was in a good mood and that was never a good thing. To finally top off this list of all things that could go wrong and were causing him a headache, Sofia Lamb was causing more trouble than she was worth.

Fontaine sorely hoped that Ryan would deal with her soon because he was getting tired of idiots laying down tools and refusing to work.

"I ain't got time kid," he hissed, intending to sound as cruel as possible. "You best stop coming round here. I told you not to make it a habit and…." He trailed off as wordlessly the kid placed a brightly coloured paper bag on his desk.

He hadn't seen a bag like that since he was a kid. Usually he saw them in other kid's hands and could only dream of having them in his own. It was a sweets bag. The bright white and pink paper with the Rapture logo on the front declaring that Rapture Candy was the best in the city. You'd hope it was considering it was the only sweet store in this aquarium.

Still, Frank was confused. Why was Clayton showing him this it made no sense… and he didn't have time, energy or care to give a damn right now about it.

Before he could yell at the kid, Clayton spoke first.

"You seemed sad or angry…" the kid pushed the paper bag towards him. "I thought sweets would make you feel better. Make me feel better."

Oh. It was a gift. For him?

"You've got too big a heart, kid…" Fontaine mumbled staring at the bag like it was a bomb that might explode in his face.

Clayton giggled. "You're silly, Mister Fontaine. There's no such thing as a too big heart," he smiled at him. "Everyone's hearts are the right size for their bodies. I read it in my anatomy book."

"Not what… ya know what forget it," he waved his hand. Kids were always so damn literal, he forgot about that. "Just… forget it," he gestured to the sweets. "Ya can take your sweets."

"No, they're for you."

"Kid-!"

Clayton took his hand and grabbed the paper bag, placing it in his open palm, before pushing his fingers closed. "They're for you. It's a thank you for helping me. Mama said you should always say thank you when someone helps you," he beamed at him. "I picked out all the best ones! Well, the ones I think are the best…" he glanced at the door. "I should go before Mama worries… bye Mister Fontaine!"

Before Frank could protest or grab him, the kid was out the door.

Jesus… kids were quick. Was he ever that quick when he was Clayton's age? He didn't feel like he was.

He looked down at the bag of sweets in his hand. He had half a mind to throw them away, he wasn't a little kid. Sure he'd occasionally drop by when Em was working and give the kid some sherbet, but that was mostly to keep him entertained and away from him. That wasn't the only reason. It also put Em in a better mood if she saw him be nice to her son.

Jesus the first time he knew she'd spotted him he'd almost felt embarrassed, but shame was not an emotion that Fontaine was privy to feeling so he certainly wasn't about to feel it then. Instead he'd stood tall and shrugged, saying that the kid had been well behaved and Suchong had said something about positive reinforcement. Em had dismissed it entirely, he could tell by the look on her face, needless to say… she did get more work done that day. So he continued and she again seemed to do better work, not that her work was bad to begin with. No, it certainly wasn't, but she seemed to make more of an effort to get things done after he'd been nice to her son.

Frank glanced at the bin by his desk, his hand hovered over it for a moment, but damn it all he was too curious. Sighing, Fontaine opened the bag and looked inside. What he expected. A bunch of sugary sweets that were guaranteed to rot your teeth before you were thirty. Sugar mice, jelly babies, cola cubes, chocolate and flying saucers. Frank idly wondered if Clayton even knew what a sugar mouse was based off. Kid had probably never seen a mouse in his life.

Still, they were all just stupid kids sweets. He snorted and closed the paper bag up, about to drop it into the bin again and paused.

Well… he had been in a bad mood right?

He took one of the sugar mice out, held it up to examine it, before bitting the head off.

"Fuckin' christ!" He seethed, almost spitting it back out again. Jesus that was nothing but.. well, sugar. Name kinda gave it away but Jesus Christ. How did he eat these as a kid!? The sugar mice had always been his favourite, but now as an adult… he couldn't imagine stuffing his face with them. Felt like his teeth were disintegrating just from one bite.

Okay, now he was going to put them in the garbage. Best sweets of Rapture? Only if you wanted to not have any teeth by the time you were thirty.

"Did you like them?"

"Jesus!" Frank yelled, placing a hand to his chest and glaring pointedly at the little blonde boy staring at him with hopeful eyes. "Fuck, kid! Don't sneak up on people like that, ya tryna' give me a heart attack!?"

"I'm sorry… I just wanted-."

"I don't like sweets."

"Oh…" Clayton's face fell. "Well, I could get you-."

"I don't want anything!" Frank seethed, standing up behind his desk. "I told you to leave me alone, ya little snot nosed brat! I fucking meant it!"

"I'm really sorry, Mister Fon-."

"Get out!"

Clayton's lip trembled, his eyes were big and glassy. His whole body was beginning to tremble as sobs started to whack at his small frame.

Frank felt a tug in his gut, but he ignored it. Instead he made it worse, like he always did.

"Oh, are ya gonna cry now ya big baby?" He rolled his eyes. "Oh boohoo someone yelled at me," he mocked him, fully aware at how childish he sounded. "Grow a back bone kid!"

"You're mean!" Clayton yelled back, looking startled at his own raised voice. Tears streaming freely down his face now.

"Yeah? Guess what? Everyone is!" He hissed. "Everyone's mean! Everyone's nasty!"

"You're wrong! Mama's not mean!"

Frank laughed. "Oh yeah? I'd like to see you say that when she finally gets sick of ya and throws you away like the little orphan garbage you are!"

It was a low blow. Frank even winced internally as he said it. He hadn't meant it. He'd gone too far with that one. It was cruel, even for him. Unfortunately… he wasn't a man who took back what he said, never had been, never would be. He'd just plow on through. It was his nature.

"You're lying!" The little boy sobbed. "Mama wouldn't… she wouldn't!"

"Oh yeah? You sure about that?" He laughed, his inner monolog screamed at him to stop, but he didn't listen. He rarely did. "She ain't even ya' real Ma! Ya real Ma threw you away! She knew how worthless you were the moment you-"

"Just because your Mama didn't love you doesn't mean you can be mean to me!" Clayton screamed at him. "You're just jealous!"

"J-Jealous?!" Frank hated that he stuttered but the kid had touched a nerve. "The hell you talking-?"

"You're just jealous because my Mama loves me and yours never did!" Clayton puffed his little chest out looking determined, but there was a hint or cruelty to it that Frank knew all too well. "My Mama chose me, but yours was stuck with you! She never loved you! Who could love someone as horrible as you!"

Still crying, the little boy slammed the door shut and Fontaine heard him run away.

Frank sank down in his seat, his head was reeling from what had happened. How had it gotten so out of control and what the hell was wrong with him? He should've just dropped it. He should've.. what did that little bastard know anyway, he didn't know anything. He was clueless!

Maybe this would be a blessing in disguise and the kid would finally, finally leave him alone.

Fontaine however, found himself putting the bag of sweets in his desk. Taking out more documents and began to look through the new advertisements. He ignored the uneasy feeling that hadn't left him since Clayton had screamed at him or maybe it had been there the entire time he was cruel to the kid. He hadn't meant it. He really hadn't meant it, but wether he meant it or not was of little consequence. The boy no doubt would hate him now and Frank couldn't blame. If someone spoke like that to him at Clayton's age, he'd hate them too.

Burying himself in the tricky words and bright colours of new advertisements, Fontaine ignored the feeling that was creepy through him. He was too proud to admit to feeling anything along the lines of shame and guilt, even to himself. There was, however, no other words you could use to describe the emotions he was feeling, but that didn't meant he was going to admit them to himself.

Clayton had been right after all. His own mother hadn't loved him. He'd chalk up the boys accusations to nothing but childish name calling, but the kid was too smart for that. Maybe a little naive, but never stupid. There'd also been that cruelty in the boys eyes when he'd said those final icy words. A cruelty of a person who'd been hurt and knew just how to hurt others back. It was a cruelty familiar to Fontaine, because he saw it in his own eyes every time he looked in the mirror.

Hell hath no fury than a woman's scorn and don't kick a man when he's down, all little sayings that were also subtle warnings. Frank felt like they missed one out on that list. A child's scorn was a far deadlier thing than any adults angry screams, simply because, kids didn't know when to quit. They could also be creative little bastards when it came to hurting you back.

Adults often treated children as little tiny beings of innocence. Frank knew kids were some of the cruelest individuals you'd ever meet. People often protected them with lines like 'oh they don't know any better' or 'boys will be boys', nice little excuses that would spare a child of punishment. Kids could get away with murder if they were young enough and an excuse was there for them to use. They don't know any better. The meanest kids in the world always knew better, they just didn't care.

"Every evil bastard in the world was a kid at some point," he mumbled quietly to himself.

Yeah, there was nothing quite as scary as an angry kid. Because an angry kid became an angry adult and finally a monster.

LaLorna stood in front of the great selection of Plasmids and Tonics, mulling over which one she should use.

On the shelves the liquids glowed and shimmered with power. Electricity crackled in a few, others where warm to the touch and seemed to contain the power of the sun inside them. There was just so much to chose from.

The Tonics weren't quite as spectacular, but what they could do? Now that was simply ingenious. Grow more hair, make your smile prettier… anything and everything. The list was endless so long as you got the right stuff. She'd heard that Ava Tate had been making her own version of the stuff, but this did not interest LaLorna. Why should she pay for a cheap knock off when the real thing would be so much better. Not to mention Mister Fontaine's products were probably safer. They'd have to be.

Reaching out with her gloved finger tips she picked up one of the tonics, guaranteed to brighten your smile. She had a nice smile as it was, but she didn't just want nice, she wanted stunning. She wanted a smile that you would notice, but what else could she improve?

Thankfully, in all of the stores that sold the tonics, small mirrors were located. It was to help the buyer decide what they wanted to buy. You looked at yourself in the mirror and looked for what you wanted to correct about yourself. Around her many men and women were doing the exact same thing. Picking up tonics and looking over themselves in the mirrors.

Maybe she could make her eyes just that little bit bigger and brighter? It seemed like the right idea.

Laughter brought her out of her judging world and she turned to find Ada standing next to her, looking over some of the tonics herself.

Ada was dressed in a simple suit dress, nothing too fancy, with a belt that pulled in her waist. Her hair was pulled up out of her face and an elegant string of pearls rested around her neck.

LaLorna raised an eyebrow and snorted. "You look so plane, Ada," turning back to the tonics she resumed looking through the different products. "One wonders if you should find a tonic that improves taste."

Ada only smiled. "Well, I'm so glad you don't think I need to improve on my face," she frowned a little in mock sympathy. "Never mind, Amélie, I'm sure you'll find something that will improve on your drab and boring little visage," she bit her lip a little. "Then again… I don't think there's enough tonics and plasmids in Rapture that could fix what's wrong with you and your personality."

LaLorna glared at her sharply. "Men hardly seem to care about my personality."

"So, you mean, they hardly care about you?" Ada placed a hand on her shoulder and LaLorna looked at it in disgust but the other actress didn't remove it. "I am truly sorry, but… I suppose those men rather dodged a bullet, oh!" She picked up one and handed it to LaLorna. "That should solve everything don't you think?"

She rose an eyebrow before looking down at the tonic in hand. It was breast grow.

Ada cackled as LaLorna slammed the bottle back down looking outraged. Just as the French actress was about to give her a piece of her mind, screams echoed at the front of the shop.

Other shoppers were running away quickly, tripping over each other and shoving each other out of the way, as a man came darting inside. His face was covered in growths and he seemed to be twitching. His fingers sparked with the electro bolt plasmid and his eyes seemed to be glowing with the power.

"I want more! I need more!" He yelled, reaching for the tonics, when one of the store owners got in his way.

"Sir, please. You don't have enough money, we've already turned you away three times today."

"You don't understand, I need more!"

"Come back when you have some money."

The maniac seemed to be a worker from Hephestus and then he looked like he got a bright idea. His fingers crackled and sparked, before anyone could say or do anything he was sending an arch of electricity at the store owner. It struck him square in the chest, his body seized up and began to convulse. His eyes widened, teeth clacked together in a grimace of death while his body convulsed and seized. The surrounding shoppers and workers stared in horror as the lunatic with electrobolt didn't let up. He continued to send the electricity through the air into the other man, who's skin began to crackle and melt. Those who'd dare to look at his face would see that his eyeballs had already melted and fizzled away into nothing. Gradually his skin began to turn black from the burns, his clothes had melted to his skin until now you couldn't tell where the skin ended and the clothes began.

A gun shot rang out and the electrobolt user shrieked, stopping his electricity and the man's charred body collapsed to the floor. Ryan's Security chased the murder out of the store. Screams and yells could be heard. A few more crackles and flashes of electricity could be seen and heard, followed by the tell tale sounds of gun fire.

"My god…" Ada mumbled, turning back to LaLorna with a grin. "That was simply thrilling!"

LaLorna raised an eyebrow before looking at the body on the floor like many others. "Not for him it wasn't."

"Oh yes…" Ada pouted, looking down at the body. "That's a shame. Such a senseless waste of human life and all that," she waved her hand around airily. "But truly, that was amazing! Such art! Beauty and horror all in one glorious package- ah, I need to paint this before Cohen gets wind of it."

Ada went dashing out of the shop, muttering something along the lines of Cohen stealing her artistic vision.

LaLorna glared after her before turning her attention back to the shelves. She pursed her lips a moment thinking.

She ended up leaving with the breast grow.

Amélie LaLorna

Some recognition:

What do I have to do to get some front page recognition? The Tribune fills up with drivel on Cohen, Ava Tate, even the limey Culpepper gets more of a look in… but the great LaLorna? Nothing! Do these people not know real talent when they see it?