HEY GUYS, LOOK AT ME! I MADE ANOTHER CHAPTER, AREN'T YOU GUYS JUST PROUD OF ME?
... Anyway, you might wonder where I've gone for all this time. Well, at first I had a massive writer's block so I took an indefinete pause. Then I got Netflix and found these two wonderful Sci-Fi shows called Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis (Stargate/Bioshock crossover, anyone?) And when I watched all their seasons and the movies (I watched everything except SGU, I didn't like that one) and then suddenly I was back in school with more homework than ever. So that explains where I disappeared to.
So now that you know that, enjoy part 2 of the Bioshock/Dishonored crossover.
The man wearing the skull-mask stood before them with a completely straight back, soaked in the blood of the risen dead that had attacked Booker and Elizabeth.
"Umm… hello?"
"You two aren't weepers." The skull-man said bluntly.
"What's a weeper?"
The skull-man pointed at the two corpses on the ground with his strange sword.
"Those are called weepers. You two aren't from around here, are you?"
"Not exactly. We're-…"
The man abruptly interrupted Booker's talking by raising his hand calmly. Booker imagined that the man behind the mask currently wore an indifferent expression that would have a twinge of suspect hidden beneath the skin. Booker knew that this would never end well with the likes of this person. He wanted to tell Elizabeth that they should go back to the sea of doors, but he just stood frozen in his place. No ammunition left and he had accidently dropped his hand cannon in the actual sea beneath the sea of lighthouses when he was too awestruck to utter a single word (he still wondered what was going to happen to that hand cannon).
The man before them was obviously dangerous and armed. Booker was unsure about what the hell was going on in this reality, for all he knew this man could have weapons of mass destruction in his pocket. There was no knowing with all this time-travelling, reality-hopping business.
"It was a rhetorical question."
Before Booker could even dignify his statement with a response, the man pulled out a small crossbow that only required one hand to operate. The arrows struck Booker and Elizabeth quickly and they barely noticed it. Elizabeth almost immediately fell to the ground. The dart that had hit Booker made it hard for him to think anything, but his mind still wondered whether or not she was alive, and then it quickly shifted to ways he could kill this bastard who had hurt the only good thing in his life, but before he could continue his train of vengeful thoughts, he fell to the ground and passed out, just like Elizabeth.
Corvo sighed. He was tired, it was early in the morning and now he knew he had another mission to do. Carry these two troublemakers back to the Hound Pits Pub to interrogate what they knew about the secret Loyalist Party. He wished he could just leave them there on the ground, but alas, there is no rest for a man who has lost everything.
Carrying two persons at the same time was hard. The girl weighed less than a feather, but the man had obviously eaten too many Serkonan Sausages. It would take him some time to get them back and put them in a cell, but he knew Martin and Havelock had already located Emily's whereabouts and he wanted to get this over with so he could bring her back and keep her safe as soon as he could. He owed that to Jessamine, no, he owed everything to Jessamine.
They were closer than any Lord Protector and Empress had ever been. Perhaps too close, in the grand scheme of things. But that mattered not anymore, what's done is done, it's impossible to change the past, but the least he could do is protect the heir and secure a better future for the bleak city.
The fate of Dunwall weighed heavily on his shoulders, as well as these two strangers.
Booker woke up like he always did; he woke twitching and with his hand searching his bedside table for his trusty Mauser in case any of the loaning sharks were knocking on the door, but his hand floated in midair searching a bedside table that did not exist, because he was currently in some kind of peculiar cell. It was pretty big, but strangely void of anything but a pile of books and Elizabeth sitting near the books, reading one of them.
And then Booker remembered what had happened.
He grunted and sat up, feeling like he always did in the morning; like complete shit. Elizabeth took a look at him from behind the book and put it away. She crawled over to him and scanned his being with her eyes, apparently looking for any kind of wound or something she could tend to, but there was nothing. She rested her head on his shoulders and closed her eyes.
"Where are we?"
"From what I can gather, we are in some kind of cell."
"Yeah, nicely deduced Sherlock."
"Sher-who?"
"Sherlock Holmes, the famous British detective?"
"I hate brits, so it's not a wonder I don't know who the hell the guy is."
A door outside the cell opened and a man stepped into the cold and gloomy room in which the cell was situated. The man looked like someone of high status in the military, judging by attire. Scars covered his face and any normal person would say that his skull had outgrown his skin so that his skin was stretched thin; making him look even more hardened. He looked to be around his mid-forties. He seemed like the dangerous type and Elizabeth crawled slightly closer to Booker, even though she knew she could get them both out of here in a flash.
To others, this man might seem intimidating, but Booker had torn down a city filled with crazy flying racists and travelled into other realities. The former Pinkerton agent glared daggers at the man.
"Greetings, sir and madam. I trust that this morning finds you well?"
He took a sip from a cup of beer he had been holding all the time and stared at the father and daughter sitting in the disgusting cell, awaiting a response from them.
"Who are you?" Booker asked with a clearly tired voice.
"I am Admiral Farley Havelock, or former Admiral. But I do believe that the real question here is: who are you two and what were you doing in the sewers?"
Booker did not know what to answer with and Elizabeth apparently did not either, because she didn't utter a single sound.
"Hm. The silent types, huh? Well that does not matter, you'll talk soon."
He turned on his toes and was about to exit the room through the door, but he stopped in his track to say something.
"Oh, and please do not have too much fun in there. When I come back, I would want to see that the floor is still grey and dull, not white."
Booker responded before he could even think about it.
"She's my daughter you sick bastard."
The admiral turned again.
"Talking now, are we?"
He took three steps forward so he was right in front of the cell bars, so close that Booker could reach out and strangle him, but Booker remained sit, still staring at him, hoping he would suddenly burst into flames.
"Who are you? Are you spies? Did Burrows find out about us? Answer me!"
Time passed, and even though it seemed like hours had gone by, only minutes had snailed away. Havelock seemed to become more and more impatient.
"Alright then. I'll give you some time to think about it."
And with that, he once again turned around and walked out of the door. Booker could feel Elizabeth snoring quietly and peacefully into his vest.
Elizabeth woke up some time later and looked up at Booker, who had fallen asleep. She got up and registered the sound of the door opening, which had woken her up. An old man with grey hair and a scarf came in with a tray of food. He opened the cell door and slid the tray over to the father and daughter. He then closed the cell door and threw an empathetic nod towards them.
"I'm sorry miss, but I'm afraid we don't have a professional cook here. You'll have to survive with some bread and fruit."
'Rotten fruit' Elizabeth thought to herself, nevertheless she smiled at the man and thanked him. He walked out of the cell again and she remembered that as an almost all-knowing trans-universal being, she didn't feel the need to eat. She quietly thanked the laws of quantum physics and started to feel sorry for Booker, because he still needed to eat.
She looked out the window that was placed so one could see the sky and long after freedom. It was morning, it was evening; they must've slept for quite some time. She laid her head on Booker's shoulder once again and stared at the beautiful sky that contrasted the disgusting exterior of this city.
She closed her eyes and enjoyed the blissfully quiet moment. A few moments passed, and as if it was universal law that she couldn't be left to the silence, the door slowly opened again. Elizabeth lifted her head and opened her eyes to see who was disturbing now. At first she thought it was the wind, due to the fact that she couldn't see anyone, but then she lowered her eyes slightly and noticed a little girl in a white dress who was watching them as if she could see them, but they couldn't see her.
Elizabeth, who loved children, smiled one of those smiles that would make Booker melt like butter. The girl took a step forward towards the cell and opened her mouth to speak.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"Why are you in prison? Did you do something bad?"
"That depends what your definition of 'bad' is, if walking unannounced into an established, but secret, perimeter, then yes I did do something bad."
"What does perimeter mean?"
"I'll tell you what it means another day, sweetie. Tell me, where're your parents? Did they allow you to be in the same room as a 'criminal'?"
Elizabeth made air quotes while saying 'criminal' and the little girl giggled, but suddenly her face fell and Elizabeth could see her eyes starting to glaze with crystalline water. Elizabeth immediately looked down at the floor and scolded herself for asking. 'Dammit' she thought to herself.
"My mommy she… she was killed six months ago. I saw a scary man stab her with a sword."
'Double dammit'
"And then there was this other scary man who took me away."
'Triple dammit'
"But it's okay now! Corvo rescued me from the scary men."
"I sort of sympathize with you. I've never met my mother; she died giving birth to me."
Everything went quiet once again, but the universal law that dictated that Elizabeth never could have a silent moment stepped in again and the door to the room opened once again, revealing a young woman with brown hair who looked to be in her 20's.
"Emily! What're you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away from this room when there are… umm… visitors."
The woman reached out to grab the little girl Emily's arm, but she quickly removed her arm out of the woman's reach.
"Callista, I know what a prisoner is. And this one isn't scary or threatening at all!"
"Do you even know what her name is?"
Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the banter of these two.
"My name is Elizabeth."
"Elizabeth? That's a pretty name!" Emily said.
"A pretty name for a potential mass murderer" the woman bearing the name Callista said under her breath, but just loud enough for Elizabeth to hear.
"Oh yes. I'm a dangerous mass murderer. Don't let my lack of weapons confuse you; I could make you snap like a twig with the wave of my hand because I'm a wizard." Elizabeth said that with a joking tone so Emily giggled again.
And then Booker suddenly stirred and slowly woke up.
Corvo got up from the boat where Sokolov was slumbering (that bastard snore louder than the empress' secretary Cromwell used to). He picked up the dirty and greasy Tyvian man walked towards the little prison room.
He opened the door, finding Callista and Emily talking to the two unidentified strangers in the cell.
"Corvo!"
Emily screamed his name and ran towards him, hugging his leg. Corvo saw the woman in the blue dress lean over to the man and whisper something into his ears. Corvo had heard men and women plotting against the empress in a court where noblemen and noblewomen screamed at each other like little children; hearing what those two whispered was like eating cake.
"I think we just found our counterparts" He heard the woman say and the man grunted in affirmation.
"Emily, what're you doing here?" Corvo asked.
"Corvo, tell Callista that these two are actually very friendly people! She thinks they're dangerous."
Corvo didn't know what to do, so he got out of Emily's leg-hug and went over to the cell door. He opened it and laid Sokolov down and then motioned for the two strangers to follow him outside. He stopped before Emily, bent down and gave her another hug and whispered "Good night" into her small ear. He then got up again and looked over at Callista, who looked like she had the biggest vocabulary in the world, but had no idea what to say.
"Callista, could you take Emily back into her room? I'll be there in a moment."
Callista did as she was told. Corvo took the two strangers outside where Havelock and Martin were waiting. They went down to the dock and positioned the two strangers at the edge of the dog, side by side. Havelock picked up his pistol from the table that was beside him and took aim.
How lucky could you be? Callista had accidently trotted in a dog's feces that looked older than the city itself did. She had to inside and wash her shoes; she ordered Emily to go into her room and go to sleep, but Emily just had to see what would become of her newly acquainted friend Elizabeth and her father Booker.
She could see them on the dock with the overseer, admiral and Corvo. Oh Outsider, she could see Havelock aiming directly at Booker. Tears began welling up in her eyes, she had already witnessed the death of her mother and the fall of Dunwall; she didn't want any more death and destruction.
Havelock announced that they should all take a step back. Corvo and Martin did, and apparently so did Booker and Elizabeth.
They dropped into the water a second before Havelock pulled the trigger.
Elizabeth had whispered "trust me" to Booker, just before pulling him down into the water with her. They sank below for a couple of seconds before Elizabeth opened the tear that brought them to the ever so familiar sea of lighthouses.
Booker was on the ground, coughing and squirming like a fish that had been left on the ground to die. Elizabeth sympathized with him, her thoughts briefly flashed across what the hell the people of Dunwall had done to their sea. She helped Booker up.
"Well, that was something different."
She nodded in agreement with him.
"Well, where do you want to go now?"
"I don't know… wherever the nearest lighthouse takes us?"
"Sure."
And with that, they disappeared into yet another lighthouse, and they had no idea what it withheld.
So that was that. As I said in the update chapter, I'm not gonna write as much as I used to do ("But Arlaxxer! You didn't write at all, you lazy bastard!") But I will try to finish this fic.