-Don't judge me. I'm loving this song. I only have like three Britney Spears songs because they're like cocaine. I hate it but I love it.
-Susanne's final line in the flashback is taken from the movie "Christopher and His Kind", an absolutely brilliant film. I based her character partly off of one in that movie as well, so I suggest watching it if you haven't.
-Also, Cohen actually says that if you go and get Alarm Expert from that ledge. Made me laugh. "Cohen, you great bloody creep, stop spying on me."
W'P
Quote: "What you need to know about the past is that no matter what has happened, it has all worked together to bring you to this very moment. And this is the moment you can choose to make everything new. Right now." -Author Unknown
Listen to: "Circus", Britney Spears
-o-
30 December, 1958.
The bar was smoky and dim, filled with the sound of clinking glasses and heavy cigarette fumes. A woman was laughing loudly and drunkenly somewhere. The bartender was chatting with some bloke at the far end of the bar, wiping down a glass with a dirty towel. Decorations from Christmas still hung around the place, wilting after being smoked out.
Katherine stared at the wine in her glass, dully observing the tiny bubbles that swelled at the sides and broke away to pop at the surface. Susanne came trotting over, looking somewhat put out. "Oh, darling, there are no good catches hanging around this dreary place, let's go before I simply wither away from boredom."
Katherine nodded, drained her glass and paid for her drink. The women walked out into the transparent, glass corridor that gave a full view of the city above. Here, there was more light than the bar.
"I've got this new Plasmid, you know, very sexy, I think. Electric Something Or Other, I can't remember. It's very tickly and rather fun in the bedroom, if they're into that sort of thing. Expensive but so worth it. I'm thinking of getting that flame one? You know, to light up easier…" Susanne suddenly gasped. "Oh, darling!"
The blonde, using her glove, wiped away at Katherine's cheek. There on her skin was a blotchy yellowish bruise, reaching its morbid arms down her neck. Taking a moment to look, there were similar make-up covered spots on the tiny bits of exposed skin Katherine now risked showing.
"Oh, Katy! Is this him?" Susanne fussed, pulling her friend to the side and out of the corridor where someone could see them.
"Yeah. He…got a lot worse after Christmas." Katherine muttered, putting a hand over the mark.
"Katy, you simply have to tell someone!"
"Who?" Katherine snapped, suddenly annoyed. "No laws in Rapture. No laws, no god. Only man. I'm on my own."
"Katy…" Susanne suddenly looked very sad and thoughtful, letting slip her mask of bubbly, flirting cheerfulness to expose a woman who was very much aware of the horrible things in the world. Who had experienced them firsthand. Her eyes brimmed with tears, smearing her heavy make-up. She embraced Katherine tightly, letting the long-stemmed cigarette fall to the floor as they both wept for the world.
Katherine pulled away first, wiping her face off. Something in her stare had changed. She was no longer gazing listlessly; there was a glint there. "I'm going to confront him." She decided. "And he'll be gone from my life forever."
"Good." Susanne said simply, nodding. "Yes, good, Katy. Oh, I hate to ask, but might I borrow a tiny bit of ADAM from you? John took my last bit and I need a recharge." Her expression became that sad one. "Why are men always such beasts, darling?" She asked quietly.
Katherine frowned, and for a moment considered the possibility that her friend was actually worse off than herself. She handed over a little, wax-sealed vial of red fluid. The woman nodded at each other and Katherine stalked off, head held high, to Kyle's flat.
It felt like the longest walk of her life. As she reached the door to his flat, she suddenly got a sense of horrible, morbid fear, and almost turned away. But, taking a few deep breaths, she got a hold of herself. And with cold fingers and a hammering heart, she opened the door to Kyle's abode. The idiot didn't even lock his door. She looked around the actually fairly neat room, at the piano in the corner, at the meager shelf of books.
He suddenly stormed around the corner, staring at her at first in surprise, then anger. "I thought I said to never come here."
Shut up, Katherine thought to herself. She had meant to speak it, but opened her mouth too late. White shapes burst behind her lids as he struck her, her head consequently striking the door frame.
The confidence, the unbridled fury, surged up inside of her like a fountain. Such anger as she'd never felt before, about anything. Like a fiery, heavy stone sitting in her gut.
Katherine stood up, eyes burning. She had one of her high-heeled slippers in one hand and, without thinking too hard about it, swung the shoe as hard as she could, heel first. It hit flesh, and Kyle yelled out in pain.
The consequences of what had just happened tumbled down on Katherine like a rockslide, but she couldn't stop. She fell onto Kyle, striking him with the slipper over and over until a little blood made her hand slip. He was still moving and alive but clearly alive. Katherine stumbled away, panting, horrified but oddly, grittily happy, and ran away to get a paramedic.
-o-
"This…" Kiki was having trouble finding words for what she was seeing.
The atrium lay out before them. A large staircase soared up to the second floor, long and stopping just before a small stage on the ground floor. Posters for various acts, like Jasmine Jolene, were plastered around the walls, long worn away by the ravage of time. The blinking, flickering, multicoloured lights for the different sections of the Fort. Spotlights clanked on the shine blindingly down at her and Jack. They put their hands up, squinting up at the light.
"Welcome…to Fort Frolic!" Cohen introduced grandly over the intercom, but switched to Jack's static-y radio. "No need to thank me for jamming the transmissions of those boors, Atlas and Ryan. The artist, yes, the artist knows there is richer earth to till. For example, I test you, little moth and butterfly. I test all my disciples. Some shine like galaxies and some…some burn like a moth at the flame. Come now…into my home."
Kiki pointed at different sections of the Fort as she and Jack walked up the stairs to Fleet Hall. "That's the main theatre, the Hall. Over there is Poseidon's Plaza, and there's a whole lot more past that." She lowered her voice. "So, Cohen's cracked a bit more than I expected. This could get bad."
They arrived in the Fleet Hall lobby, the bar long abandoned. The taps were still there, however, and Kiki idly wondered if they were still working; probably not. A square glass door with a large, cursive 'R' engraved into it stood ahead, but didn't open when they approached. A set of stairs were off to the right, illuminated with purple light, and Kiki knew exactly where they led.
"That's going up to Ryan." She explained to Jack. "Best not try to confront him." After looking around a moment, she pointed at a circular lift. "Here, this should still work."
She hit the button to call the lift. Horrific screeching noises screamed down the shaft as the thing shuddered down to meet them. The sound must have alerted some local Splicers, because yells and threats bounced down the hall. Kiki and Jack gave the tiny lift an awkward look but quickly crammed inside, neither wanting any more Spider fights. The lift took off, gliding slowly back up. Above them could be heard a piano piece being playing very fast, and a man whimpering in fear.
Pressed uncomfortably close together, Jack and Kiki listened to Cohen muttered instructions to the player at the piano. "No, no, no…Allergo, allegro! Da da da da da da, and presto! No, no!" The lift came to a halt and the pair toppled out, getting their utility belt and jumper straightened out before continuing into the Hall.
The music was much louder once inside, but that was the least of their concerns. On the stage was a man in a colourful bird mask and filthy smoking jacket, trying desperately to play the piece as well as he could. The grand piano was covered in enormous rolls of dynamite, draped across the shiny black wood and around the feet of the bench. On the red curtain behind the pianist, silhouettes of women with feathers behind their head and shears in their hands appeared and reappeared in various poses of dancing and fighting.
The music stopped as the pianist became too distressed to play. "I'm trying…please…" He wept. The voice, though contorted with fear, made Kiki freeze up.
"Once again, young Fitzpatrick." Cohen sighed impatiently, and he started playing again.
"Ow." Jack pried Kiki's fingers away from his hand, where she had been holding with such force the skin had broken in places to leave crescent-shaped marks in his hand.
"Sorry." She said quickly, and sprinted down the stairs. Getting a running start made it easier for her to scrabble onto the stage, her cold, shaking fingers grasping at the floorboards. Taking a tiny knife from her belt, she crawled under the piano and found the detonation device. Giving it a once-over, she picked a wire that looked promising and held the blade to it.
"Ah, ah, ah, my little red butterfly." Cohen warned from above. "Don't fly so close to the flame..."
Kiki paused for a moment, hesitating, thinking if it was the right thing to do, and cut the wire.
She braced for the explosion that would follow, eyes shut and head turned from the device. But after a few seconds with nothing, she laughed in giddy relief she wasn't dead. Shaking from adrenaline, Kiki crawled from under the piano and back across the stage to set herself back down on shaky legs. Jack put an arm around her, but Kiki shook her head.
"No, no, I think…I'm okay, I'm fine." She nodded and ran a hand through her hair with a relieved chuckle. "Whew. Just glad I'm not dead."
"Such an unwise choice. Perhaps I overestimated you as an artist, my dear butterfly." Cohen sighed from the radio. "No matter. Perhaps it's best for you to jump right in. I desire his image captured, in its most pure form, so I may remember him."
"Katy?"
The word made Kiki jump, like someone had burst a paper bag next to her ear. She turned around to see the pianist watching her with an inexplicable look on his face. "Hello, Kyle." She greeted, and found her voice to be rather quiet. She stepped back a little, almost fearfully, so she was partially behind Jack.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Kyle stumbled down from the stage, also getting over the shock. His question wasn't particularly angry or concerned, just curious.
"Top secret." Kiki replied, getting over herself somewhat, but still staying close to Jack. "None of your business."
"Why not?" Kyle walked closer. "I mean, you can trust me, right? I trust you. You saved my life just now."
"Fuck off." Kiki suddenly spat. She stepped away from Jack, though her hand knotted in the sleeve of his jumper. "I'm done with you. I saved your life because of what we once were. I want nothing in return, only that you start running, and never stop."
"What are you gonna do if I don't, Kitty Kat?" Kyle stepped closer with a threatening air. Passing under a spotlight, a flicker of shadow was visible on his face. There was a deep scar on his left cheek in a curiously square shape. Like the heel of a shoe.
Kiki reached for her pistol, but was surprised when Jack beat her to it. He let his hand, burning with Incinerate, hover next to Kyle's face. A shadow of fear passed behind the latter man's eyes, but he did a very good job of hiding it. Instead, he smirked a little.
"So, who're you?" He asked and folded his arms. "Her bodyguard? Or her fuck toy?"
Kiki had her gun out now, the hammer cocked back with a foreboding snap. She pressed the barrel to Kyle's forehead, forcing him to step back. Genuine fury broiled behind her eyes now.
"Your life is mine." She growled. "Your existence is now nothing but debt to me." She pressed the gun into his skin with more force. "I can, and will, end it whenever I feel like it. Understand, you slimy piece of abusive, drinking, smoking, power-hungry rubbish? You're mine now. It's my turn."
By this time Kyle was leaning back against the stage, the barrel of the gun leaving a circular red mark on his head. They glared at each other, each other's ferocity battling between their stares. Anger oozed off of Kyle like water, but his silence was a grudging agreement enough. Kiki tossed the gun back into its holster, grabbed Jack's shoulder as she walked around to the exit.
"Come on, Jack. You too, Fitz." She called over her shoulder.
"Care to explain?" Jack said under his breath.
"No." She replied as quietly. "No, I'll tell you. But later. Ooh, wait, before we go." She pointed up at the opposite balcony, directing her companions' attention to a glowing jar sitting on the edge. It shone brightly yellow, beaming at them. "That looks promising. This way."
Kiki lead them around the entrance, past the ticket booth and around through the back hall. The door to the balcony was, of course, blocked up with debris, so she chose the second door on the right and emerged looking over the stage and ruined red seats, the piano with the undetonated dynamite still wrapped around like a macabre scarlet cloak. The shining golden tonic still sat perfectly balanced on the ledge of the adjacent balcony, taunting them.
"Fantastic." Kiki said sarcastically, directing it at Jack, as she was pretending Kyle wasn't present. "That's a good ten feet with a twenty-foot drop."
She started shoving some smashed seats away from the edge and made to hop up. Jack held out a hand, stopping her, and climbed up himself. Bouncing a little to apparently psych himself up to it, he took a running start and leapt to the tonic.
"Jesus!" Kiki leaned over to see Jack dusting himself off. A spotlight was following him and Kiki, and the one on him illuminated a man's corpse in the corner of the balcony as well.
"What an outstanding display of athleticism." Cohen commented lightly over the intercom.
Jack tossed the tonic over and Kiki grabbed it protectively, hugging it like a large, glowing egg. "Now get your Yankee arse back over here before you get hurt." She called over. Jack waved a hand, smirking, and jumped back.
"Smells like…" Kiki took the cap off the tonic and gave it a good whiff as they walked back to the atrium. "Something…Engineering?" She dipped a finger in the yellow goo and gave it a taste. It was oily and coppery, like blood. "Definitely Engineering. Has that metallic alarm-related hint to it. Alarm Expert, I think. Not bad, not great."
"You've never used a tonic before…" Kyle mused from behind.
"You can have this one if you like, Jack." Kiki ignored him, handing the tonic over. Jack made a face, but drank the tonic quick as he could while walking. Once it was gone, he shook his head.
"Ugh." He smacked his lips. "A bad one."
"Yeah, that wasn't very tasty." Kiki couldn't help but crack a grin at the mildly repulsed expression on his face. "I like physicals. Best one, hands down, EVE Saver. Had this sort of apple-pie, cinnamon, spicy taste. SportBoost Two was decent as well, tasted like sugar water."
She chattered on as usual, Jack paying attention while still looking amused, now seemingly oblivious to Kyle's presence. They walked back out into the atrium, and the spotlights from before snapped down at the trio.
"I know why you've come, little moth." Cohen sang through the radio, directing this at Jack. "You've your own canvas, one you'll paint with the blood of a man I once loved. Yes, I'll send you to Ryan, but first you must be part of my masterpiece."
On the stage in the atrium, where there had previously been nothing, there was now a horrid sculpture of men in rabbit masks holding four picture frames. Two hung upside-down from trapeses, whilst two more sat on yet two others' shoulders. The six were all like the women on the strings by the bathysphere, some odd stone or paper maché. On the empty frames, large white X's were slashed across in paint.
"Do you see it?" Cohen gasped. "When I am dust, this is what they'll point to. My quadtich. Go ahead! Don't be afraid…touch it."
All three were lingering back on the stairwell, uneasy about this "art" that Cohen was rubbing in their faces. Presumably, Kyle was supposed to get blown sky high by the piano, and then a picture of his body was to be placed in one of the frames. However, since Kyle was still quite alive, there was little for them to do.
"This is just the moment of conception." Cohen went on, excited. "Out in this place, there are three men, excluding young Fitzpatrick, all former disciples of mine. All connected by a common thread: betrayal. Find them, little insects, and immortalise them in my quadtich. Go! Once they've been sent to their reward, you shall go to yours…and to Ryan."
"You're trying to kill Ryan?" Kyle asked incredulously. "You have to be kidding me. You're crazier than I thought, Katy."
"Jack, next stop is Poseidon's Plaza." Kiki pointed up the stairs. "I think I know the other four he wants us to kill. But, first…" She turned and aimed her pistol at Kyle, causing him to jump and hold his hands up.
"Whoa, hey, let's not get hasty." He said quickly. Kiki blasted a warning shot above his head. "Gah! Bitch!"
"Shut up. In order for us to get out of here, and to Ryan, you need to die. And forgive me if I'm not exactly sad about it."
"Okay, okay, I get it. I know." Kyle stammered. "But, let's think. I was pretty decent to you, right? There were bad times, yeah, but we were still friends at least, right? You don't really have to kill me, right?"
Kiki glowered at him for a moment, pitiful and bargaining for his life. Her mouth curved up in a sort of self-satisfied smile. "Oh, how sweet your own medicine must taste." She purred. "Yes, you have to die. Oh, yes, I'm going to kill you. And yes, yes, I'm going to enjoy it. But I think you'll be the last one. You'll be my quadtich."
Kiki lowered her pistol. Jack was watching her with an apprehensive look, like how one would watch a volatile explosive. She beamed at him and hooked her arm through his. "Come along, Jumper Jack, we've got an appointment in Poseidon's Plaza."