"WELCOME TO FORT FROLIC!"
The booming voice echoed through the entertainment district. Jack Wynand stood at the entrance to the atrium; the various signs advertising nightclubs, shops, and lounges lit up as though awoken from a deep slumber.
Like an undersea Las Vegas, thought Jack.
Jack could only wonder what the place would have been like in its prime. He might have been more in awe at the glitz and glamor, if not for his sour mood.
This was supposed to be nothing more than a quick connection to get to Andrew Ryan. The bathysphere had been right in front of him, but before he could get there some nut-job named Sander Cohen sank it and cut off his radio connection to Atlas. It was clear to Jack that Cohen wanted something from him, and wouldn't let him leave until the Artist was satisfied… or until Jack killed him, whichever came first.
Cohen's sickly, velvety voice continued to address Jack through the radio, but Jack's attention had been drawn away. Around the corner, Jack heard a sound like the call of a bellowing whale. The call was punctuated by a heavy thump, thump that Jack could feel more than hear. The young man was then overwhelmed by the horrid smell of putrid fish. Jack knew that the call, the tremors, and the smell could only mean one thing!
A Big Daddy was approaching.
Jack tensed but forced himself calm. Big Daddies were normally docile and wouldn't attack unless-
"Hurry Mister Bubbles, I can see angels dancing in the sky!"
-they had a Little Sister with them. Time to hide.
Jack ducked behind a wall as the golem in a diving suit came into view. It was a Bouncer type, judging by the shape of the helmet; except instead of a drill, it wielded a harpoon.
I wonder what the camera would say. As Jack prepared the research camera, he could hear the little girl shout as she approached a corpse.
"I see ADAM, Mister B!"
Lifting his camera to his eyes, Jack nearly dropped it when he caught sight of the child. She was a Little Sister, there was no denying that. She had the glowing eyes, the two-toned voice, the giant syringe; hell, she was using it to pull blood from the dead body.
But she wasn't a human girl.
The girl was furry. She was covered in short, inky black fur, with white cat-like feet, a white face with a red mousy nose, and long antenna-like ears that were tied together in a bow. Most notably, she had a tail. Yeah, she was definitely not a human girl.
He had to look away as she gulped down the ADAM infused blood she had gathered from the bottle end of her needle. When she was finished, she sniffed the air and gasped excitedly.
"More angels, Mister Bubbles!"
She began skipping towards a bunch of plaster statues. Her bodyguard's moans sounded anxious as he picked her up and walked in the other direction. The Little Sister pouted.
"You never let me get the stone angels."
Stone angels? Jack eyed the statues, dread pooling in his stomach. Don't tell me… He walked up to one and gave it a whack with his wrench. Sure enough, the statue began to bleed. Jack could only groan in exasperation. Before being cut off, Atlas had called Sander Cohen a 'Section 8' and a 'real lunatic'. Accurate as those terms turned out to be, Jack wished Atlas could have been a bit more specific.
Everyone in Rapture was at least a little bit insane.
On a whim, Jack snapped a photo of the statues, but the picture didn't offer any additional information. So, the statues are dead people, Jack mused, that's a relief. He had it up to his eyeballs with Rapture. The last thing he needed was statues coming to life.
Moving back to the original subject, Jack aimed his research camera at the kid – whose protector had taken her to a more acceptable corpse – and took a snapshot. He studied the image the camera had produced.
Implanted Host, Gatherer, Cartoonus Characterus
She was a toon? Jack hadn't seen many cartoons but he knew what they were, and had always wanted to meet one of their stars. The image showed her waving at the camera. Wait, hadn't she been gathering? Jack looked up and, to his surprise, made eye contact with the sister. The young man ducked back behind the wall and began to load his tommy gun.
"Pa-pa-raz-ziii! Yoo-hoo, Paparazzi?" Jack heard the Big Daddy build up a roar when the two-toned voice continued "Quiet, Mister Bubbles! Not that kind of Paparazzi."
Curiosity getting the better of him, Jack peered beyond the wall. "There you are!" the girl giggled and waggled a finger at him. "It's rude to take pictures without asking first."
This was unlike any encounter he'd ever had with a Little Sister. Normally, this would be the part when they'd scream at the stranger who got too close; not that Jack blamed them, considering most of Rapture's citizens wanted to harvest them for the ADAM they carried.
"…Welllll?" The kid stared expectantly at Jack with her hands on her hips.
"Oh, um, sorry?" he stammered. Never before had he met a Little Sister with such personality. The character smiled sweetly and batted her lashes at Jack.
"Okay, I'll forgive you this time." She held up the bottle end of the syringe to her face as if trying to see her reflection. From her scowl, Jack suspected she wasn't successful.
"Didja get my good side?" Amused, Jack nodded. She giggled and struck a pose. "Well, don't be shy, paparazzi!"
That was how Jack found himself participating in a full-on photo shoot with the girl. She very much enjoyed the attention, unlike her protector. The Bouncer made a few attempts to knock Jack off his feet with an earth-shaking stomp, but before he could bring his foot down, the Little Sister would always move directly underfoot.
"Don't be fussy, Mr. Bubbles! Angels can wait. We mustn't disappoint the fans!" The funny little charmer twirled around and grinned towards Jack. "And now, I-"
Suddenly, the Little Sister froze, her face scrunched up, and her syringe clattered to the floor as she bent forward clutching her head as though she were having a migraine. Jack had to stop himself from walking up to her to ask what was wrong. The Bouncer knelt beside her and patted her on her back, making pitying groans as he did. The girl abruptly raised her head, screaming and pointing, "A STRANGER!"
By this time, Jack had ducked back behind the wall. Keeping the child and Daddy in his sight, he watched as the kid's expression became baffled that the stranger had completely disappeared. She stared at the spot where Jack had been standing, with a confused head tilt. After a minute passed, she turned to the Big Daddy, seeking answers. However, he just gave her head a pat, returned her needle, and took her by the hand to find more 'angels'.
What was that all about? Was that her conditioning kicking back in or something? Poor thing.
Now that he was out of immediate danger, Jack looked through the photos he had taken. Most of them were of her making cute poses, and a few showed her making silly faces. Jack let out a soft chuckle.
WHAM!
Jack came back to awareness with the sensation of literally peeling his body off the wall. What even hit me? Something large and flat. The Daddy? No, it didn't feel like a Daddy attack. He looked about and found – to his dismay – that all his photos were gone and a piece of paper had been taped to his chest. Upon the note was written the word "CREEP".
Jack was honestly more than a little offended. In a city where doctors kidnapped people to cut off their faces to make them 'beautiful', little girls were conditioned to drink the blood of the dead, giant-metal palookas armed with drills and harpoons roamed about, hooked-handed junkies crawled on the ceilings, and Sander Cohen existed, somehow, HE was the creep?!
He crumpled up the note and threw it away when he heard the girl's voice again. "I'm getting tired, Mister Bubbles. Just a few more." Jack froze. If she was getting tired, the Bouncer would take her to the Little Sister vent; there, she'd disappear into the walls, and Jack may never find the charming little toon girl again. If he was going to save her, he had to do it now.
If Jack had been asked to describe himself in the present moment, he'd say 'A guy about to make a very bad decision.' The bad decision he was on the verge of making was fighting the seven-foot-tall metal golem, the Big Daddy. Jack wasn't new to killing Big Daddies; in fact, he'd consider himself a veteran at this point. Still, he hated fighting them at the best of times.
The truth was he had left Arcadia running low on supplies. He had begun to restock when he'd arrived at the Fort, but then Sander Cohen had greeted Jack with soothing music and plaster statues which he had puppeteered to appear like graceful dancers. Then Cohen threw a bunch of splicers at him to 'test him'. The ensuing firefight left Jack nearly empty in terms of provisions, but he still didn't dare let the toon girl out of his sight to scavenge for supplies.
Jack would have to get creative. He hadn't hacked any bots yet, but maybe he could try that new plasmid. The young man conjured a glowing blue orb in his hand, and threw it on the Bouncer. He then hid himself, waiting for the Security Bullseye plasmid to take effect. Moments later, he could hear the gunshots of the flying turrets, the furious roars of the Daddy, and some shouting.
The gunshots ceased sooner than he had expected, but Jack could still hear the moans of the Daddy and the buzzing of the bots. What happened? He inched toward the edge of his hiding spot, intending to take a quick look, when he heard the sound of something heavy rapidly descending towards him.
CLANG!
Jack jumped out of the way in the nick of time to see that he'd nearly been crushed by…an anvil! What's an anvil doing in a place like this? More importantly, where the hell did that anvil come from? A roar told him that in escaping the anvil he'd unwittingly leapt in front of the Bouncer, it's visor bright red, and flanked by three flying turrets!
The little girl on the Bouncer's shoulder waved, smiling serenely at Jack. "Look, Paparazzi! I got new pets!" Jack didn't understand how this came about, but he hoped and prayed that Big Daddies hacking bots wasn't going to be a new ongoing trend. Another giggle from the girl. "Say cheese, Mister Bubbles!" The Bouncer charged, and Jack, frozen in shock, could do little else but snap a photo. Stumbling out of the Vita Chamber, Jack checked how the photo came out.
Honestly, it was his best photo yet. It identified the daddy as an Elite Bouncer, because of course it was! Those Vita Chambers were awfully convenient, but their existence didn't make dying less painful or frightening. Hurrying back to the atrium, he saw the pair heading toward the Southern Mall.
Damnit! I'm running out of time. Should I just go for it?
He really wasn't eager to go out guns blazing at the Bouncer, especially one that had just killed him. But it was beginning to look like he'd have no choice.
He checked his ammunition and found, to his dismay, he was short on EVE and he barely had enough armor piercing rounds to take out a Bouncer, but this one was an Elite! Forget guns blazing, thought Jack with a wince, I might have to go out wrench swinging! The thought of attacking a Big Daddy, with nothing but a wrench, chilled Jack to his core.
Hunkered down near the Southern Mall, Jack decided to light a cigarette to calm his nerves. The moment he activated Incinerate, he had an idea. There was one more plan he could try. At the very least, it would buy him some time.
Jack identified the nearest Little Sister vent and gathered a few bodies. He piled them near the entrance, right in the Bouncer's path. If I time this right, it should be over quickly. I just hope the kid won't get caught in the crossfire. His trap set, Jack took his place a few feet from the vent and triggered the Natural Camouflage gene tonic that turned him invisible whenever he held still. He could feel the Big Daddy's distinctive, thundering footfalls growing nearer and nearer.
Almost…
"Take me home, Mister Bubbles."
Wait for it…
Finally, the Big Daddy stepped on one of the corpses. NOW! Jack set the bodies on fire, which in turn ignited the Daddy. The metal man roared in outrage and agony. The child shrieked "Too Hot! Too Hot! Too Hot!" so he tossed her away from the flames. In its flailing, the Bouncer's arms took out the bots that had been helping him.
Jack hurried to reach the girl, but the Bouncer was not down yet. The vision of the Elite Bouncer, engulfed in flames, charging at him like a Demon from Hell, would be forever engraved in Jack's memory. But this time, Jack was ready. A dozen shots from his tommy gun, loaded with armor-piercing rounds, were enough to put the monster out of its misery. As Jack tried to calm his racing heart, he heard several voices crying out.
"NOOOOOOOOOO! MISTER BUBBLES!"
"HANG ON! PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT!"
"C'MON, YOU GOTTA GET UP! SHE NEEDS YOU!"
Who were those voices? Jack looked up and saw two new creatures racing to put out the fire. Both of them similar in size to the strange Little Sister, but male. The bigger one – about the size of a human Little Sister – wore a tattered tuxedo and a black rabbit mask. His smaller companion, who was just a bit bigger than the girl, wore a ratty business suit with a yellow flower pinned to the lapel, a red cap that sat backwards on his head, and a lion mask. The two new arrivals struggled in vain to extinguish and revive the Big Daddy, until the Little Sister quickly reminded them of her presence with a loud sob.
Spurred on by her cries, the taller one made a dive for her which Jack swiftly intercepted. The little creature caterwauled in Jack's grip, hissing and clawing like a rabid animal. Jack hoped this wasn't a spliced-up kid.
"PUT YAKKO DOWN!"
Wait a minute, I know that voice! Jack would sometimes hear it over the PA system in advertisements and propaganda. The voice belonged to Rapture's most popular toon celebrity – but what was his name again? Wacky? No, Wakko. Wakko, who was charging at him with a lead pipe primed to disintegrate Jack's kneecaps.
Shoving the aforementioned Yakko under one arm, Jack quickly disarmed and picked up the smaller toon. The motion caused the boy's mask to fall off, revealing a white face and red mousy nose, similar to that of the strange Little Sister. The toon boy, Wakko, regained his wits to cry out "Run away, Dot! RUN!"
Yakko, who seemed to be Wakko's brother (if not at least related to him), had removed his own mask to bite at Jack's hand. He, too, had a white face with a red nose. Glancing at each kid, Jack finally understood what had really been going on all this time.
Unfortunately, there were three big problems. The first was that the Little Sister, Dot, was now vulnerable. Jack had to remove the ADAM-producing parasite in her body so he could send her off to Tenenbaum's before a splicer found her. The second problem was Jack couldn't help her with both arms full of two enraged brothers who were convinced he was about to disembowel their sister. The third problem, with Dot ugly-crying and the boys hissing and snarling, was all the noise they were making.
"Listen to me, I promise I'm not going to hurt her; I just need to… please let me explain… I'm sorry about…" Jack made several attempts to calm the boys but nothing was working. If anything, they appeared to become angrier. Not knowing what else to do Jack shouted, "quiet!" through his teeth. That made them pause, and sure enough the sound of crumbling plaster reached their ears. The 3 toons tensed; they knew what those sounds meant. Thinking quickly, Jack put the kids down and equipped the Telekinesis ability.
"We're about to have company." He pulled out his shotgun and checked his ammunition. "Go, hide her, I'll cover you!" He didn't bother checking if they had listened to him. The splicers had arrived.
The boys didn't hesitate. They grabbed the Little Sister, who screamed and squirmed in their grasp.
"STRANGERS! NOOO! LET ME GO! MISTER BUBBLES, PLEEEEEASE!"
Yakko hoisted her over his shoulder as he and Wakko ran deeper into the Southern Mall. They knew there was a vent just around the corner, but cackling splicers were coming in from all directions. When Jack glanced back, he saw the children dash into a shop called Sophia's Salon.
Using Telekinesis, he caught the bloody hook being thrown at him; returning it to the spider splicer who threw it caused her to fall from the ceiling into an open flame. Jack launched her corpse into a cluster of other splicers who were, in turn, ignited. After dodging out of the way of the remaining splicers' near-suicidal rush, Jack used the shotgun to pick off the others. With the final splicer's death, the last kablam of the shotgun sounded through the suddenly silent hall, but Jack knew that more would come. The allure of an unprotected Gatherer would draw every ADAM-starved splicer in the area.
Quickly looting the dead bodies for supplies, Jack was able to scrounge an EVE Hypo which he injected into his arm. When he looked up, he noticed three splicers creep into the Salon. Hurrying to the shop, he could hear one of them whistling as though summoning a dog.
"Come out, Baby. I-I j-just wanna touch that pretty fur coat of yours. Give it to me and I'll be pretty! I'll Be Pretty! I'LL BE PREEETTTTYYYY! Please I need it! I neeeeEEEEddd IT!"
"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Uncle Fred's got a treat for you."
Jack followed two of the three splicers into the back of the store, the scraping sound of the male splicer's crowbar dragging on the ground was more than enough to cover his footsteps.
'Uncle Fred' stalked up to the cloth accordion door to the first changing room with a smirk; or what should be a smirk, his face so riddled with tumors that it looked like a smile. He lifted his crowbar to bash down the door, only to have his own head bashed in by Jack's wrench.
The lady had been so self-absorbed, talking to herself about how she was going to be beautiful again and how she was going to start a new fashion trend with her fur stole and then Cohen will definitely notice her, that she didn't react to the body hitting the ground.
She limped over to the second changing room door and lit up a Molotov.
"Just gonna… make a… few buttonholes."
Before she could throw the cocktail, Jack grabbed it from her hand, and pushed her away from the door.
"Hey, that's mine," she whined. Jack nodded, with a quick "Sure," and threw it at her. As the wannabe starlet burned to death, Jack investigated the changing room. It was empty, save for what appeared to be a plaster statue of Cohen sitting at an organ.
Where'd they go? Did they escape the shop already?
Nearby, the toon children were clinging to one another and trembling in the shop's wall safe. Dot had ceased her screaming at this point and was only letting out occasional whimpers.
"…want Mister Bubbles."
Yakko dabbed her tears, whispering hoarsely to her, "I know Dot, we'll find you another one." Wakko stared at the safe door and placed one hand up his sleeve, standing as stiff as a board.
A loud clang of something striking the safe made them all yelp.
"Keep it out from me! KEEP IT OUT FROM MEEEEE!"
Wakko pushed his brother and sister behind him. "Get ready to run," he instructed in a forcedly calm voice. They couldn't hear very well through the safe, but they were able to make out the sound of gunshots. The Warners held their breath as the distinct click-click-click of the tumblers turning filled the tiny space. Finally, the sound stopped, and the door slowly creaked open.
"You guys alrig–"
POW! Wakko shot a boxing glove out from his sleeve, smashing into the intruder's face and knocking him on his back.
"Go, go, go, go!" Yakko propelled himself and Dot out of the safe, with Wakko following close behind. They landed on the ground, about to bolt for the exit only to freeze at the scene before them. Just a couple yards away from their hiding spot was the bullet-riddled body of a spider splicer dangling from one of his hook hands, swaying like a man from the gallows. Yakko couldn't pull his eyes away from the sight, until a cough came from the still living man on the floor.
Jack sat up, clutching his jaw while opening and closing his mouth. Once he was sure nothing was broken, he looked towards the toons and asked, "you kids alright?"
The toons, even Dot, stared at Jack, utterly gobsmacked.
Jack glanced away. "Sorry, stupid question." He picked up an apple-sized jar from the floor and pointed to the swaying man. "That guy was going after you with this." The jar was a simple, clear glass design, marked by a tape label with a single handwritten word.
TURPENTINE
The moment Yakko saw the label he was hyperventilating and convulsing, his mouth opened in a silent scream as he desperately pushed his siblings behind him.
In response to their terror, Jack hurried to reassure them. "Hey, hey, hey! It's okay, it's okay, it's gonna be okay. I promise I'm not gonna hurt you." Jack could not be sure if the kids believed his intentions; their gazes remained fixed on the jar of paint thinner. He attempted to move it out of their sight, but that seemed to freak them out even more. So, moving very deliberately, Jack backed up a few paces and placed the jar on the ground before him. Keeping his eyes on the children, the man pulled out his wrench and smashed the jar to smithereens.
Yakko started at the action, not expecting it. He didn't ease his protective stance, but Wakko inched out from behind his brother, his gaze wary but curious. Once the jar had been reduced to sand and a puddle, Jack snapped his fingers and the chemical burned away. The kids watched warily and, with the light of the flames painting their faces, slowly began to relax.
Jack took a step towards the trio. "Listen, I just-" a crash from outside the salon interrupted him. The kids, already jumpy, bolted at the first sign of trouble.
"Shit."
Jack rushed outside and could hear the next wave of splicers. Following the kids through an employee entrance to the Cocktail Lounge, he found them hunkered down and trembling beneath the bar counter. Looking beyond the counter, Jack could see a Little Sister vent on the far wall, along with several splicers headed their way. He ducked beneath the counter, startling the kids.
"I don't suppose any of you got ammo?"
"Huh?" the two boys answered bewildered.
"Any kind will do, but anti-personnel rounds would be really fantastic right now."
Dot was mostly limp in her brother's arms, covering her face with her hands. "Hopscotch chalk is made with lead. Hopscotch chalk is made with lead," she repeated. The boys exchanged a glance; and at Yakko's nod, Wakko pulled an enormous bag out of… somewhere and reached into it. A couple seconds later, he pulled a canister out of his bag. "Would this help?" he asked timidly; in his hand was a canister of electric gel.
Jack couldn't help his eyes lighting up. "That'd be a big help, kid. Thanks a bunch."
Whipping out his trusty chemical thrower, Jack loaded the electric gel, and unleashed mayhem upon the approaching horde.
The fight wore on and Jack never made any requests; instead, he would adapt to whatever Wakko handed him. This included bullets, hypos, paperweights, a metal chair, flower pots, bowling balls, a frying pan, sticks of toon dynamite, a rubber duck (that one had been an accident on Wakko's part) and more.
Yakko had no clue how long they'd been hiding beneath the bar counter. Minutes? Hours? Seconds? He focused all his attention on soothing a near-catatonic Dot while his brother offered the strange man stuff from the Gag Bag.
At last, all was quiet in the Cocktail Lounge. Jack turned away from the sea of bodies and knelt before the children who were staring at him with growing dread. Yakko pulled his brother in close and opened his mouth. No sound came out, and he tried a few more times before giving Wakko's hand a squeeze.
Wakko spoke "we'll-get-you-ADAM!"
Jack had been about to speak but the words surprised him. "Sorry, what?"
"ADAM." The boy hiccupped "Lots and lots of it! All of it! We'll get it for you! We WILL!" He huddled closer to his big brother, who had been nodding along, and draped an arm round the girl's body. "Please Mister, let her go to the hole in the wall. That way she'll feel safe again."
Jack gave the children a gentle smile. "She'll be okay. Trust me," he stated, as he reached forward and rested his right hand atop her head.
"Hey! What're you-!"
"NO! No! No… no…"
All protests died away as a bright light engulfed Jack and Dot and then suddenly there was only the sound of
"BLLLLLEEEEEAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!"
The brothers rubbed their eyes as their vision recovered and both their jaws hit the ground as they took in the sight before them. Dot was doubled over, gasping and coughing, having just thrown up on the floor; before her lay a big, black, wriggling slug.
Yakko didn't think, he grabbed the discarded frying pan and beat the slug until it was little more than a dark stain on the floor.
Dot lifted her head, standing on coltish legs. She had the stance and air of a wrung-out dishrag but gone was that sickly ADAM glow that had radiated beneath her fur. Her eyes, no longer a glowing yellow, focused on Jack's face as she softly, sweetly crooned to him "Hellooo, Nurse!"
Then she fell flat on her face.
The 3 males leapt to her aid but released a collective sigh of relief when they heard her soft snores. Yakko gathered the girl in his arms and began rocking her like a baby.
Wakko looked at Dot, then the black mark on the floor, then Jack. He repeated the cycle at least 5 times, each time getting progressively faster. Eventually, he was staring at Jack, eyes bulging, mouth slack, and voice trembling as he asked, "di-did… you… ju-just...?" the anticipation of his greatest hope coming true made it impossible to finish the question.
Jack nodded but looked on in concern. With the girl asleep, she couldn't get to safety through the vents. All this time, Yakko never took his eyes off his sister. As he let out an audible sob, Jack's radio crackled with a familiar voice.
"Ah, there you are! My little Songbird," said Sander Cohen.