Once everything is said and done, the train improved upon and everyone loaded aboard, with a few last checks to make sure you didn't forget anybody (and no, all by now nineteen Little Sisters are sorting through plush toys in their compartment), Delta, in his role as the impromptu train conductor, uses his plasmid to melt the ice and warm up the gate barring you from driving onwards.
You actually have a decently nice time during the ride, the underwater landscape coupled with Rapture's backdrop making for a wonderful view down here and the bottom of the ocean.
Also, the Little Sisters are, at least, not making a mess or anything, not really excreting or spilling fluids. Except for that trio of girls Tenenbaum already reverted into humans; for all that they're fitting in, they still need to eat and drink and go to the toilet regularly and all that stuff. But then again, you're leaving dealing with all of that to her anyways, so it's not like you're affected by that in any way.
Before long, the trains stops... far earlier than you'd gotten the impression, Fontaine Futuristics having been described to you as being on the other side of town entirely.
Are we being kept in a single station again, Delta?
Gate... Won't... Open...
You sigh. Of course nothing is ever easy, is it?
As your group slowly exits the train, the station itself mostly quiet and free of attackers, you take a look around from where you're being carried by Jasmine.
Yep, the gate's closed shut, without any visible reason in sight.
"Lamb must've triggered the citywide shutdown, chief," Sinclair explains, apparently having become the exposition fairy for this part of Rapture. "In order to get it released, we'll need a security override key from the district councillor here, a Grace Holloway last I remember."
"Oh, and just let me guess, she's probably one of Lamb's lackeys, isn't she?" You ask.
However, just in that moment, the loudspeakers around the place activate.
"Of course you would presume all those in agreement with my way of seeing things are kept in a power structure centered around me. I suppose I should not be surprised, given your goals here in Rapture."
... Well, well, well. If it isn't Sofia Lamb.
"Ah, you would be Sofia Lamb then, I'd presume instead? My name is Gabriel, Gabriel Livsey. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, even if it isn't very personal, sadly."
"Yes, I would certainly believe that," the crazy cult leader woman answers, obviously already preparing to continue with some of the mumbo-jumbo she's been spewing at the poor folls down here. Time to distract!
"That said, am I wrong, then, in my assumption? Is this Holloway woman not acting on your orders?"
"Grace is a part of the Family, Gabriel. She is no more subordinate to me than any other person on this world. I do not need to order her around like a Tyrant would in order to get his will when she simply agrees with me in all important matters."
Is she... is she seriously spewing some cult indoctrination terms at you?
"Ah, but is simply manipulating others into doing your will ultimately the same for our purposes? A family does imply soft power of a sort, after all, open to manipulation much like any other social construct. As well as the existence of a mother and/or a father, exerting control and influence over their descendants. And everyone looks up to mommy, don't they?"
Using your form to its fullest extent, you make yourself sound like a real little boy, foregoing your pretense of maturity for once.
"That may be the case in some families, but I believe it to be the sign of a toxic environment unsuitable for any human being to live in. Tell me, Gabriel, how would you describe your own parents?"
"Ah, avoiding the question, aren't we? Not that I blame you, unpleasant questions you just don't want to answer can be such a bother. But let's see..."
Honestly, you're kind of curious how she'll react to this.
"My parents were highly functioning sociopaths that only really had me out of societal obligations they felt they had to fulfill and only really cared about me in the context of further societal obligations. One of my earliest memories of my mother is her telling me to shut up already as she nearly choked me on a toddler toy of some sort- I can hardly even remember what it was, exactly.
Beyond that, both of them kind of just tried to acknowledge me as little as possible and beat me whenever it wasn't, with a side of berating me for whatever they felt annoyed about at the time. In fact, one of the first things I learned in life was to show off strategically placed bruises to force them to stop or at least reduce those beatings so child services wouldn't come and make a nuisance of themselves. Just mentioning them once I actually learned what they were worked out quite well, too!"
With a shining smile, not having veered from your cheerful demeanour this entire time, you ponder whether to mention your younger siblings for a moment- you're sure they'd make for great conversation, but you're less sure whether revealing you're much older than you look would be worth it.
No, better not. Just avoid mentioning them.
"One time, I was really, really sick, and after a week of lying in bed with fever, I eventually got up and dragged myself to the kitchen, because I knew I would die otherwise. So when I stood there in the kitchen, half-slung into the kitchen sink so I could drink the tap water, dad just walked by without acknowledging me- neither of them even really noticed."
And yeah, you did know you'd die if you didn't get something to drink in that moment. But the real driving force, the almost obsessive need that drove you out of your bed no matter what, had been that you knew your siblings would starve.
Priorities.
"And how about your parents?" You ask, the very picture of innocence and happiness as you do so.
"M-my father raised me, he was a physician. He firmly believed in the Greater Good as a driving force of human action, that all people should strive towards effecting as much good as possible. It is why I later studied psychology and, indeed, became a psychologist."
"Mhm, would you say that your father's beliefs shaped the person you are today? I could certainly see this kind of ideal twist someone from a young age."
"Why would a drive to do good ever be a negative impetus?"
"The 'greater good' is an impossible, distant ideal that cannot be effectively followed. While some may personally profit from attempts to do so, others will inevitably suffer from unforeseen consequences by sheer dint of odds. Ultimately, one may try, but as 'good' is a subjective measure constructed for human convenience, it is fundamentally flawed in the same ways those that think it up are."
"Exactly!" Lamb agrees, curiously chipper about your line of reasoning. "The Greater Good is the moral imperative, and yet it is nigh impossible for us to follow it. A Utopia that lets us strive towards it in earnest is conventionally out of reach... were it not for Rapture. For the wonders of ADAM."
"... Would you care to elaborate, please?"
"Rapture was a gathering of all the brightest minds of their generation, a confluence of brilliance like the world has never seen before. Many of them are dead now... but the ADAM in their bodies carries memories of their genetics, of their minds, even. A little known fact about ADAM is that it retains the very mental processes of its hosts after they die, allowing Little Sisters to see their memories... but when used right, it allows for so much more.
All the memories and thoughts of Rapture, united in a single ideal vessel. A true Utopist, capable of considering every single person in the world and with the skills and abilities to effect the most positive change possible. An adherent to the Greater Good, finally."
"And so that utopist of yours would become the ultimate tyrant excising free will from all of humanity, becoming thre king of kings, if you will."
"On the contrary, Utopia would free humanity of the tyranny of its ego! Each of us is slave to their own instincts, their own self-interest, but a true Utopist would be free of such foibles."
"Honestly, at that point, you have to ask a singular question. Is the greater good worth these sacrifices? You already said it, but I do not believe that such a greater good is an ultimate moral imperative, and if it is, you should abandon morality instead. Just look at the sacrifices made, and tally them up against the potential good gained later on. From where I stand, it seems like it is nothing more than the ultimate excuse."
Also, this explains why Lamb would create more Little Sisters- her plan hinges on gathering all the ADAM in the city, and Delta's apparent habit of 'collecting' them is completely fucking her over in that she can't collect it anymore.
"It is regrettable you view the matter in this way, but it cannot be helped. You will become part of the dream either way."
"Actually, question. Does ADAM actually work like that? I mean this as a technical question. Jasmine, as a Big SIster that has presumably taken in a lot of ADAM during your life, would you be able to do that, become some hive mind of everyone whose Adam you've ingested in the past? And do the memories and skills not fade eventually as the Adam works it's way out of your system?"
"Skgiiieh."
So she doesn't remember being a Little Sister, but from the times she drained ADAM from splicers, she only remembers a few vague memories that soon faded.
"See? The 'utopist' would have all the memory and skills of the entirety of Rapture... for a few minutes, before they faded.
"I do not expect you to understand, Gabriel. And the Utopist would naturally be specifically trained to retain them before being subjected to the procedure."
With that, the connection audibly shuts off.
"Well, that's Sofia Lamb, I suppose. Everyone that actually expected her to change her mind raise your hand."
Sinclair just looks at you oddly, but about half the Little Sisters, Jasmine and Okita raise their arms. Sarah just sighs. "It was pretty clear with my power, the woman's nuts. Also, Gabe?"
"Yes, Sarah?"
"Promise me not to stick your dick in that particular pile of crazy."
"You should know me better than that, Sarah. I make no promises I can't ensure I can keep."
"Gaaaaabe!"
Train Upgrades
Turrets: The train station is large, yes, but it has only a limited number of entrances. Build at least two of your laser turrets per entrance and see if any splicers try and suicide against them. (3 points)
Barricades: You have a whole bunch of metal to recycle in here, may as well use the bulk of it. Use the manufactory to construct and deploy a large amount of heavy metal walls you can put in front of the doors that lead into the train station. (2 points)
Spikes: This place could totally do with a few sharp points for splicers to run into. Construct and install a few dozen of them. (2 points, synergy with barricades)
Pools Of Water: you have a few people with the ability to emit lightning now, may as well set a little something up. Remove a few patches of floor and replace them with water, that way, anyone trying to come at your group may just get a nasty surprise thanks to your lightning Mr. X. (3 points)
So, with Lamb now officially aware of your group and its location, and you not really comfortable with dragging the mob of Little Sisters along with you wherever you go, this place could do with a little... fortification. Just in case you need it.
Thus, you begin organizing a little construction, taking the materials from Ryan Amusements and using them to their fullest extent even as you got your undead, Delta and Jasmine to tear out any useful salvage inside the station itself.
Thanks to the ample amount of metal, mostly steel, you have inside the compartment you mainly use to store recycled raw materials, you can easily set up a few barricades around the two entrances to the area, with several long metal spikes protruding towards any possible intruders. Any splicers try to rush this place, they're skewering themselves.
You do leave enough space to pass through between them, of course, even for the larger members of your group, but it's still quite a challenge to get two people through at once.
Beyond that, of course, you also go on ahead and place a few more turrets, two by each entrance, a little further up on the walls, Delta's rivet gun serving as a great asset for getting everything secured where you want it to be.
Another little surprise you prepare for possible attackers are a few spaces you clear of the ground itself, scraping away at and removing the tiles so as to fill the resulting intendations with water, several strategically placed shallow pools just waiting for a poor sucker to step inside before the Mr. X you specifically singled out for the ability to use the Electrobolt plasmid stationed nearby the train uses its ability.
All in all, this took some time, but it should hopefully help in case you're attacked here. Certainly makes you feel better about moving around and leaving less defenders in place, anyways.
"Okay, everyone, time we got down to business. Let's take a look around our surroundings."
"Finally," Kate mumbles, putting down the bottle of what she has taken to calling 'yuckblood'. "Only so long I can entertain myself with watching Little Sisters riding on Delta's back."
The area you're in, Pauper's Drop, as Sinclair explained, is basically what you would get if you took a state-of-the-art (for its time, anyways) underwater city and combined it with improvised slums. Simple wooden boards serve to replace the old 'street signs' above tunnel doors as you snake your way through the place, taking a look around the 'fishbowl diner', a market of some sort and a few other areas, including what you heavily suspect to have been a hospital at some point.
As your group consisting of yourself, Kate, Sarah, Jasmine and a mixed force of robots and undead (Okita wanted to stay behind to play with the Little Ones (yes, she took over Tenenbaum's terminology)) makes its way through debris and the occasional splicer roaming around (you're not taking prisoners right now, just scouting), you eventually happen to come upon something... interesting.
Or rather, hear it.
"SKREEEEIAH!"
"That sounds like a Big Sister," you say, orienting yourself towards where the sound came echoing from.
"Jasmine, are Big Sisters territorial or something?"
"Sgeee."
"Ah, more an issue general aggression, then. So you wouldn't happen to know whoever just screamed over there, would you?"
"Skeeh."
"Figures. Alright everyone, let's go see if we can't talk to that Big Sister."
Gabe.
Yes, Sarah?
I know what you're doing, and it's not a good thing. Have you ever considered your weird porn aura may erode reality itself?
No, I haven't. Why, do you know something I don't?
I do, and that's that you're bullshit that just shouldn't work at this point.
Aww, love you too, sis.
The sight you find yourself taking in once you arrive at the location the Big Sister was screaming from is one of carnage, with a dozen splicers splayed around in single pieces, burnt and partially smashed up for good measure.
The perpetrator of this particular slaughter is standing right in the middle of the intersection all of this is taking place, repeatedly stabbing her syringe thingy into the last of survivors as he screams aloud, only stopping as she spots your group approaching, finally letting him die.
"SKREEE!" Her scream would be loud enough to rupture eardrums if anyone without general body reinforcement was nearby, likely meant to help disorient opponents before she comes rushing at you at top speed.
Something quite annoying to you, as you were about to begin launching into your usual spiel of testing her out in order to figure out what levers to pull, only to be interrupted by the sudden hostilities... Not unlike when you first met Jasmine, come to think of it.
Luckily, or 'luckily' for you, however, Jasmine is thinking ahead. Before the unknown Big Sister can reach you, she grabs you out of her shoulder cage, hoists you up with one arm and, before anyone can react, lobs you right at the charging Sister, successfully stopping her as she backflips and tries to catch simultaneously.
SO as you hang there in the arms of this new and unknown person, you do what any kid in your place would do.
"Hello there!" You smile cheerfully and greet them.
Your new acquaintance, as it turns out after a bit of conversation, was busy murderizing all the splicers in the area because they'd tried to stop a Little Sister from gathering ADAM, after all. They hadn't made it past the girl's Big Daddy, but the fight did last a while before they cut it and ran, after all, and delays in ADAM gathering needed to be punished, from what she was (softly) screeching.
Incidentally, she is cradling you as your group walks along much like Jasmine did shortly after meeting you and your transformation into your current form, which makes the whole thing a little uncomfortable as the metallic parts of her suit are digging into your back, but all in all, you'd say this was a full success.
I hate that you somehow get away with bullshit like this, Sarah whispers into your mind, the short interaction you had with Kate via similar means consisting only of her telling you how amused she is at your current position.
I must protest my innocence, Sarah.
And I must say the lady doth protest too much. Seriously, one moment she's a screeching, breathing murdermachine wholly invested in killing everything in sight, then she touches you and she's tamed. What is this shit?
Hey, it's all a matter of practice. Think about it this way, beneath the whole murdermachine thing, Big Sisters are also all deeply disturbed teenaged young women that haven't interacted with anyone but other Sisters and the occasional Big Daddy their whole lives. That makes them really easy to manipulate for any sane and reasonable person that just so happens to come along, doubly so whe they're as incredibly handsome as me.
You look like a child, Gabe!
You make big, innocent eyes at her. The most handsome child in existence, aren't I?
You wish. If anything, you're cute right now.
Lucy immediately hit if off with the Little Sisters and proceeded to give them rides as she races around the area.
"Alright, first off, Lucy, I'm going to get you a better suit, okay? Give you the same upgrades Jasmine has."
"Skaaiih."
"Good. While I do that, though... Anyone else notice there's a lot of splicers in this area? Even now I can see dozens of blood signatures through the walls."
"Yeah," Sarah answers, taking out the laser rifle you gave her, "I'm pretty sure Pauper's Drop was one of Lamb's earliest bastions and recruiting grounds ater she began taking over the city. Wouldn't surprise me to hear this is one of the largest concentrations of still living splicers in the city."
Sinclair clears his throat. "You'd be right, too, girlie. Even before she broke outta Persephone, Doc Lamb had a large followin' here in the Drop. Offered 'free therapy sessions' to the people down here. Guess she knew what she was doin', if nothin' else."
"Well, I would say we should try to just get our business here done as soon as possible, get that access key and move on before we have to deal with a giant mob of angry cultists," you say, filled with the happy feeling of a plan coming together now that you've found a heavily populated area of Rapture and have fortified yourself before anyone has had time to react to your presence with any seriousness.
"How about instead, we just... remove those cultists?"
Kate grins, throwing her bottle of yuckblood to the side. "You're about to do something completely insane, aren't you?"
"Depends on what you'd call 'insane'. I prefer the description 'strategically expedient'." With that, you huff and puff and expel a pitch-black mist this time instead of the silvery stuff that normal souls are made of, a niggling feeling of having taken half a step to the side despite not physically moving spreading through the back of your head.
So this is what it feels like to summon a part of your soul into physical reality.
"Master?" The Maid asks, ignoring everything else in favor of watching you.
"I have a task for you, dear Maid. My, do I ever have a task for you. Go out there and bring me any splicers you can find, both the living and the dead. In fact, I'd prefer them alive, but even corpses have their uses. You have for as long as you can stay physical to do this."
The Maid just bows, suddenly becoming two maids. Then three. Then four.
Within moments, the entire train station is filled with maid bodies, either rushing around and out of the two entraces you left open or busy cleaning the train from top to bottom, with a few of them immediately homing in on the Little Sisters, both current and former, and entertaining them in various ways, from reading them some of the few books you have found to using the manufactory to produce simple toys.
""While we are doing so, is there anything else for us to do, Master?"" A dozen of the bodies surrounding you ask, soon hoisting you up in the air and cuddling you to one chest or another.
The first ten or so minutes are spent with you lounging in the grasp of your maids and explaining what the hell is going on to everyone else, which you mainly keep down to it being another part of your power to summon minions from out of thin air.
Also a hefty dose of 'don't ask' on account of never asking questions one doesn't want to know the answer to. Always works, that one.
After that, though, the Maid begins describing what opposition she encounters as she spreads herself throughout the area, just spawning more and more bodies as she goes along and slowly, but surely growing herself to critical mass even as the first still living bodies are being ferried in on accasion, most likely targets of opportunity.
In summary, there is some heavy opposition centered around the 'fishbowl diner', a previous restaurant catering to the poor and surrounded by a security camera of some kind, with several turrets automatically shooting at any maid bodies that get close and several dozen splicers squatting in and around it, a few groups spread throughout the Drop moving this way or that and, most annoyingly, a blockade made out of rubble created by an enormous splicer keeping them from swarming into the 'Sinclair Deluxe'.
"Seriously, why'd you even name it that? This is the literal ass end of town!"
"'S marketing, m'boy. Gotta make it sound good, even if it ain't."
"Yes, but why'd you use that specific term? Now your name is forever attached to poverty and misery. Honestly, I get the urge to just name everything after yourself, but there's a time and a place."
Beyond that, all that the Maids have to mention are a few Big Daddies roaming the area and occasional sightings of more of those 'brute' splicers, as you have decided to call them.
"Okay. Kate, Delta? We need some heavy firepower to take that diner apart. Mind going out there and taking care of that?"
"Sure thing."
"Uooohn."
"Great. In the meantime, I'll take a bunch of the maids and head for the Sinclair Deluxe, see what I can do about the rubble. If anything happens, just retreat and see about fucking it up with everyone using the defenses, alright?"
"Sgeee!" "Skiiiih!"
"Don't worry, I'll have a lot of protection. Any splicers that so much as look at me will find themselves dogpiled and torn to pieces in short order."
It is quite the invigorating sight you're treated to as you're carried through Pauper's Drop by your squad of Maid bodies, simply a sea of identical women steadily overtaking the landscape, scurrying about everywhere, from the streets to the rooftops to the insides of buildings.
A time or two, you spot some disturbances in the distance, but a surge of activity by nearby maids shuts that down easily enough.
Before long, you've arrived in a hallway connecting to the 'Sinclair Deluxe', the issue fairly easily apparent. A giant pile of rubble is blocking off the end of the hallway, effectively cutting the part of Pauper's Drop SInclair built his 'hotel' inside cut off from the rest.
Okay, now how do you move it out of the way?
"Alright, time to do this." While you, unfortunately, can't exactly freeze the whole mass of rubble at once, your spell to do so only targeting single objects at once, you certainly can freeze everything in sight and have the cold temperatures combined with the high humidity down here condense into ice that then (hopefully) freezes this crap together.
"Raise a wall of ice and frost, that none may pass beyond this place!" To the Maid's polite applause, you raise a wall of ice right underneath the rubble, slowly but surely pushing it up and away with how you're angling it and, before long, you dismiss the spell and manually remove the ice, having created two openings to the sides for anyone interested to pass through.
"Very good, Master. We shall move in post haste."
Well, that's that taken care of. Now to get back and find out how the others did.
Kate eyed the fortified position they were up against, noting down the turrets up top and the amount of warm bodies they had to throw against it.
"I'm thinking we take out the heavy hardware up there first. Once we got that, rest is easy pickings."
"Ouhn." Following Delta's outstretched finger, Kate saw what had the big lug worried. One of the splicers within the building, head barely peeking out of cover, threw something at the nearest group of maids, only for a pair of little flying drone thingies to come out of nowhere and open fire, the ensuing fight taking out a dozen bodies before others managed to bring the machines to the ground where they were summarily torn apart piece by piece, the blatant disregard for their own deaths the only saving grace in the whole affair.
"I see what you mean. We'll have to do this hard and fast, turrets first, then entrances. Once the things can just swarm inside, all the facy tricks won't help the fuckers. You ready?"
Wordlessly, Delta raised his rivet gun, the penetrating ammunition already loaded, and fired.
It took him three shots to fuck up the first more annoying issue, and that was only because they had a bad firing angle. By the time Kate's own laser shots bent around the roof to hit regardless of those issues, the poor, poor fuckers holing up inside the diner were already fucked. They just didn't know it yet.
Results of the first phase: One enemy stronghold has been defanged and is about to be conquered, Sinclair Deluxe has been opened to invasion. No major hindrances remain.
Grace Holloway is organizing a defense, Sinclair Deluxe will be upgraded to trench warfare status
Sofia Lamb now knows of your capabilities and is scrambling to arrange a counteroffensive
"Everything go alright on your end, Kate?"
"No problems, blew open the diner and let the maids deal with the rest."
"Anything happen here while we were gone?"
"All calm so far," Sarah answers for everyone, "though I'd bet if anyone has any ideas, they'll be coming at us soon-ish."
"Alright. Maid, how are things going out there?"
"Many of the outlying parts of the area are emptied, but new pockets of resistance are popping up sporadically. We believe they may be part of organized resistance efforts, as they are repeatedly diverging ourself from key areas."
"Bothersome, that. How about the hotel?"
"Progress is slow, but steady. Entrenched opposition seems to be trying to buy time under the mistaken assumption that losses on our side will save them."
"Mhm."
"Oh, Master, before we forget; we could not secure all prisoners alive, but we kept the blood from the expired ones and used it to bake a cake. Would you like to partake?"
Right then and there, the Maid pulls out the most glorious, weirdly good-smelling cake, resembling a cheesecake of some kind, except entirely in red and with clotted blood decorating the top.
You honestly can't help yourself.
"Gladly."
"Alright, Kate, Sarah, Jasmine and Delta, could you go out and hunt down whoever is trying to distract the Maid? If anything happens, Sarah can contact me and I'll figure something out. In the meantime, Lucy, Nora, Okita, you three stay here and take control of the faceless minions, just in case anything breaks through the throng of maid bodies. I'll have the Maids bring in a bunch of stuff, so feel free to print a few more Hammers while you're at it."
When nobody objects to your little mission briefing, you nod, satisfied.
"Well then, let's get to work, everyone! I'll be going to take a look at the Deluxe, see if I can't speed our progress over there along a little."
The Sinclair Deluxe, as you can now see, is a multi-floored megabuilding chock-full of splicers.
There's an elevator in the entrance lounge, seemingly nonfunctional, not that that seems to bother the Maid, whose bodies are literally climbing over each other to reach into higher floors, acting much like a swarm of insects of some kind now that they've built up their numbers.
You can hear the sounds of explosions and gunfire from deeper within, but you'll have to prioritize where to spend your efforts first.
"Maid. Where are you having the most difficulties invading?"
"The first floor, Master. A large number of enemies is using firearms and explosives, combined with barricades and traps, to keep ourself out. Breaking down the walls is taking too long."
"Very well, let's see what I can do."
So, first thing you do, you transform into your bat swarm, exactly 54 of yourselves flattering forth. Next thing you do, you use your senses oriented towards finding blood to not only figure out where all the splicers in the building are, but more importantly where any and all shed blood in the building is, quickly converting it into another 28 bats spread throughout the hotel.
Next stop, the first floor; where morons do stupid stuff in hopes it will save them instead of just lying down and waiting to be taken!
Of course, once you arrive where you know your current meals to be, you first have to maneuver past the sheer mayhem that is your army of infinite maids repeatedly storming the place, only to be met with concentrated gunfire, explosions and some kind of tripwires bringing down furniture and parts of the roof on the regular.
The bullets aren't an issue, but- fuck these guys, they saw you coming and immediately threw molotovs!
It is quite annoying- despite your evasive maneuvering, a few of your first selves flying in are burnt to death in the fiery explosions of the little molotovs and actual bombs these guys improvised out of what they had.
You, in turn, begin avenging yourself by concentrating briefly and making all their eyes explode. Oh, sure, that's a bit of an overstatement, you can't actually do that to all of them at once (yet), but the sudden pain and blindness is disorienting enough even these completely insane suckers have no idea what to do, opening fire on each other in several cases.
"It's mine! The job is mine and you can't take it!"
Case in point, the guy in tattered clothing and half his face overgrown with tumorous growths is shooting another splicer's balls off after that one turned on him.
Of course, there's very little any of these guys can really do once you've closed in, your entire swarm concentrated on doing nothing but feeding, covering any exposed skin or easily ripped clothing even as the few bats you aren't using for this transform into sharp spikes of blood to disarm splicers by piercing their hands before reforming on the other side.
Uh, Gabe? You hear, Sarah using her telepathic connection to you.
What is it, sis?
We kinda found out what the splicers were trying to keep the Maid away from.
Well, what is it? You're kind of preoccupied drinking the last of these guys down with a dozen mouths, but you always have time time for your sister. Not to mention she sounds like you should know about this.
There's about a dozen of these big brute splicers gathering in front of a place called the Limbo Room, along with a few more weird-looking splicers. They got long, gangly limbs and are bald to a man. Also armed with these weird meathook they're carrying.
Mhm. That might be an issue.
So, this obviously cannot stand as it is. Transforming back into your base form for a moment as you converge all your selves into one spot, you turn towards the Maid, several of her bodies already moving in and replicating as she begins cleaning up and gathering anything vaguely useful to ferry back.
"You know about the larger group of especially dangerous splicers?"
"We do, Master. Would you like us to do something?"
"Keep storming at them. Delay and hassle over trying to defeat them; I'm assuming they're meant to counter you in some way anyways."
"Understood."
Sarah, get everyone and get back to the station. We're waiting for them there.
Gotcha. I'm assuming the sudden movement from the maids means you're mobilizing?
I am, they're covering your retreat and hopefully keeping those assholes back for a bit.
As you talk, you shift into shadow form, racing along the ground back the same way you came and hurrying back to the train station yourself. The big question, in this moment, is what will happen once this group of enemies launches their attack.
You're back for just a few moments, having transformed back to your base child form and over to your wolf form, shaking out your fur a little as you bulge out to your largest size, standing about twice as tall as the average human as you slowly, but surely lower the temperature of the air surrounding you, when the group you sent out comes barreling in through the automatic door in the direction of the attack about to come.
"They're right behind us, get ready!" Kate shouts, the smile on her face making it obvious how she feels about this situation. And indeed, before the door even closes after them, you can see the first humongous brute rushing at you.
"Family says hi, fuckers!"
The fight is about to actually become a fight rather than a one-sided beatdown, as is evident the moment the brute coming at you is shot by the pair of turrets to the sides of the door, but completely ignores the burns as pieces of his flesh are just blown off, simply keeping on coming relentlessly regardless even with big parts of an arm and his stomach missing entirely.
Issue is, there's more of these guys coming, their comically broad-shouldered frames evident through your blood-based sight, so you breathe in deeply, stepping forwards as the lead enemy is stepping through between the barricades, preparing to shoulder-check you-
Only for you to unleash your ice breath, frozen air and chunks of ice propelled from your wide-open mouth and encasing everything in the area before you. Your first target basically immediately loses all strength in his limbs, bowled over by the force of the blast and bashing the next guy in line with his own body as he expires.
Everything is frozen over, the ground slick with rapidly warming and melting ice, the three additional brutes having come through hit by your breath, but doing their best to rush you regardless.
Where the fuck are the other splicers Sarah described to you?
The turrets shoot down another splicer, the time you'd taken to ensure they would prioritize the same targeting parameters paying off now. You, on the other hand, just stay right where you are, blocking entrance to your base with your own body.
That naturally means you're taking a bodycheck and one mean uppercut right onto your snout in quick succession once these to little bastards pick themselves off the spikes they went and crashed onto due to the slippy ground and the speed they were going at, not that any of that helps them when you finsih inhaling and once again pour your frozen breath onto everything in sight, effectively lowering these guys' body temperature hard enough to have them freeze to death in short order.
While you're busy with that, though, the next trio of brutes storm inside, the sheer mountain of maid bodies outside the door doing their best to keep them back but unable to stop them entirely once the brutes cooperate to break through.
"UUOOOH!" Delta screams, alerting you to where the other splicers must have gone; a quick glance as you cock your head to the side reveals that yes, a bunch of these cocksuckers have made their way to the ceiling of the train station somehow, presumably using ventilation shafts or something to sneak by your defenses.
The rest of your people, including the robots, immediately opens fire, but you expect this will become an actual melee before long, the very thing you were trying to avoid to effectively deny the enemy the advantage of numbers.
Leaving that whole situation to, well, everyone else for a moment, you instead keep to your personal front of the battlefield, trusting the turrets you put onto the train and your companions of being capable of enough hyperviolence to resolve the gangly splicers without your input.
The upper half of one of them impacting a barrier from your side after Okita is done with it just strengthens that trust.
The turrets are a bit disappointing right now, not really meant to take down heavily armored targets like these guys (and their enormous bodies are kind of inherently armored with muscles), but the spikes jutting out to both sides of you do, all three splicers currently through the door impaling themselves on them, one even deeply enough he's having trouble getting off of them again- quite an accomplishment, considering how insanely strong these fucks are, the newly forming bruises along your front testament to that fact.
Not that you didn't pay them back in short order, a third frost breath slamming into them and leaving all of them in quite a sorry state indeed, freezing blood on the ground for a moment longer than it did before with the rapidly lowering temperature around every time you do this.
One of the other heavily mutated splicers tries to jump at you from above, but is blown away by a hail of rivets accurately nailing his arc as he falls. Thanks, Delta.
The turrets keep on pumping away, blasting at the brutes storming your base and killing two of them, though more keep on coming, the maid bodies in the background now almost entirely incapable of holding them back, being crushed faster than they're respawning now that the brutes are actually paying attention to them.
Nevertheless, you first of all turn back to your 'normal' form, already having shifted to actually look your age, theatrically cracking your neck as you raise your arms into a stance.
"C'mon, boys, I don't have all day to murder you all."
Wild screams and cries are your only response as all the splicers in hearing range charge at you, one hitting the barricades with a meaty thwack and frantically trying to extract himself not much different from the last one to do this. You, in turn, just smirk confidently, taking a half-step to the side to let one of the three charging brutes pass, raking your claws, bristling with electricity as they are, along his carelessly bared throat, the bleeding, twitching carcass tumbling along as half his neck stays with you.
The next moment, you have to push aside the next splicer's right hook, hacking your (still charged) claws along his outstretched arm and paralyzing it for a moment, unfortunately too slow to move as the third one, brushing aside his now motionless compatriot, makes a grab for you, though you manage to avoid that, just getting scratched along your arm.
You know what? You're getting kind of banged up over here. Lots of bruises and scratches and all sorts of unpleasantness. Best get on that, huh?
Grinning an unpleasant smirk at the guy opposing you even as his pals come in, you turn all the shed blood nearby you can see with a quick glance around into bats, absorbing all your smaller selves before they can disorient you and visibly healing over your bruised skin (especially around your face, thse guys fucking hammered your snout).
In the meantime, you can hear a lot of pleasant screams coming from behind, Delta, Jasmine and Lucy groaning and screeching as they absolutely murderize the splicers in the area with both weapons and plasmids even as Kate and Sarah audibly tear into one of them each, Okita just standing there looking lonely in the midst of a row of bisected splicers. None of them seem to want to come near her, leaving her just swatting the occasional flying hook thrown at her out of the air.
Nora, on the other hand, is guarding the train itself, brutally dismembering any splicer trying to come near the compartment with the Little Sisters (and the humans, for that matter) inside, the turrets you placed along the train basically shooting nonstop.
Things are looking good so far.
Unfortunately, the spikes are kind of at full capacity right now, one of the meatbags pulling himself off them and one having died right on the other side still impaled, so while a few of the newcomers tumble in, they only really push the bodies of their comrades into them a bit instead of getting spiked themselves.
Kind of an issue to you, considering it is now four against one, six if you count the ones unable to move for a moment.
That... kind of shows, as you take hit after hit, even as you furiously deflect and strike back in turn. The turrets, by now in a position of cherry-picking their targets, land a headshot or two as that happens and wounds start piling up on both sides, one of the four attackers dropping as his head all but explodes.
That said, you kind of just have to brace yourself against the ground at what happens next.
"YOOOUUU!!!"
One last more enemy, noticeably larger and hulkier than the rest, with his face obscured by a piece of cloth wrapped around it and his arms even more comically oversized in comparison to the rest of his body, especially his legs.
Oh, and he's carrying two blocks of concrete as improvised weapons, wildly smashing away at everything within reach, including the other brutes nearby.
"GONNA KIIIILLLLL YOUUUUUUU!!!"
And with that, the other splicers either knocked out or fleeing as this guy wildly smashes his bloody 'weapons' into the floor, actually crushing it and making small clouds of concrete dust rise.
As it happens, you actually do have a way to deal with situations like this; something you would've been likely to unpack at some point soon anyways, just to deal with these bullrushing madmen.
Before this new threat's eyes as he swings both of his meaty arms overhead, you grow and morph, turning into your most monstrous form as you menace him for a fraction of a second before acting.
Slapping aside both of his arms in their respective directions even as his eyes burst out of their sockets, you smile despite your lack of a mouth while you use your claws to piere the skin of your palms, wetting them with your cursed blood while your lanky form bends towards him, your face right in front of his sightless one and your horns surrounding it for a second.
The next moment, you're back where you started, using your full speed to maul this guy first one clawed hand, then the other, piercing through a decent chunk of his torso as you dislodge, break and just outright cut through a few of his ribs as you do so, the electricity coursing through him burning his insides even as the turrets to both sides open fire, several shots impacting his head and burning off half his face.
"PAAAIIIN!"
Heh. Much like a supermutant this one, isn't he?
Well, this guy won't make it for much longer... You still kind of want to eat him, though.
Not about to leave things up to chance, you grab both of his enourmous arms, piercing skin and rending muscle as you pull him towards you, your nonexistent lips opening to reveal the rows upon rows of jagged teeth lining your mouth in this form.
Within moments, you ram them into the hunching back of his neck, freeing up massive amounts of blood you guzzle down with wild abandon, keeping him in place with your claws as they continue cutting his arms into ribbons.
He never really stood a chance.
Bruce, as friends used to call him, was, once upon a time, naught but a humble schoolteacher, come down unto Rapture to enlighten the next generation of the world's brightest to the wonders of the world.
Except, of course, the world wasn't fair and he ended up in Pauper's Drop when he realized there were no children to school, the growing city of Rapture populated mostly by adults having children, true, but not many parents already with children were interested in moving under the waves of the ocean, so no schools actually existed in the city.
Somewhat of an oversight, if you asked him.
Still, here he was, doing his best to live day to day. Actual jobs for a man in his position were sparse, however, nobody interested in a schoolteacher of all things, and when the civil war rolled around, it found Bruce in the gutter, getting drunk off of cheap wine from Sinclair Spirits and ready to jump onto the splicing trend despite the horrendous effects easily visible by that time.
If he could afford to, that was.
So when some shady figure he couldn't really recall because of how his field of vision was swimming at the time approached him and told him he could be part of a 'clinical trial', Bruce didn't hesitate. He went with them and never looked back.
BRUCE STRONG! BRUCE ANGRY! BRUCE CRUSH!
Augustus Sinclair, for all that he liked to think of himself as a smart man, ultimately prided himself in his ability to find and exploit opportunities the best he could.
A bit of charm and fast talking was enough to make him a name when he moved to Georgia, and when Andrew Ryan came calling, he knew he'd just struck it rich. An entire city being built from scratch at the bottom of the ocean? Why, call him mad, but if that worked out, he'd be swimming in opportunities.
Being with the first group of people to be so much as aware of the sinker platforms being lowered to the ocean floor paid off when the cavern underneath it was discovered, Sinclair paying off anyone who knew about it not to remember once he got the property for cheap.
An empty, all but worthless cave nobody cared about? What better place to house all the criminals and undesirables the soon-to-be-instated government of this place would want to put somewhere.
And so Persephone Correctional Facility, to fit with the naming scheme, came to be, the backbone of his future financial empire. Of course, in the absolute capitalist society Ryan was fetishizing about all the time, the state wouldn't actually pay him to detain these people, but there were enough other ways a creative mind could find to make a profit from having a certain number of persons under their complete legal and physical control.
That went from essentially slave labour to selling luxuries the inmates could pay for in various ways all the way to essentially renting them out as test subjects- plasmid research always needed some poor schmuck to actually test their products out, as he understood it.
And to test them out on, for that matter.
It didn't take long to make Persephone pay for itself, especially once Fontaine Futuristics came out big and needed loads of his 'wares' for what they called their 'protector program'. He didn't particularly care, mind you- the longer he sat on his people without using them somehow, the more money they cost him without revenue, in the end, so anything they payed for was alright in his book.
He just went from there, once the cash was rolling in- Pauper's Drop, Sinclair Toys and Sinclair Deluxe just two ways he took advantage of the existence of the miserable shantytown running all the way to Siren Alley, just to name a few not including Sinclair Solutions.
God, a better name he never could've thought of.
Still, all good things had to come to an end at some point, and so after Sinclair profited from the civil war between Atlas and Ryan, Lamb, who he'd been tasked with keeping out of the public eye until that little revolt (he should've known letting her run therapy on unruly inmates would be a bad idea) used the hold she had over Persephone to turn it into her personal headquarters. He had to run and hide, but-
Well, opportunities. What else was he supposed to call it when that madwoman Tenenbaum dragged a pile of Little Sisters and a bunch of women along with an old alpha model Big Daddy and a Big Sister of all things, all headed by what looked an awful lot like a ten year old boy, into his direction?
He knew better than to jump in that all at once, of course, and the telling maturity of this 'Gabriel' fella was enough to vindicate his initial caution. But, well, you dangle things like literally unlimited ADAM and machines that produce anything you want at a moment's notice, including fururistic robots and other machines?
Sinclair was many things, but blind to opportunities, he was not.
The talk he finally managed to get when Gabriel wasn't being literally carried around was... enlightening. It was also how the idea of world domination, normally something he'd call silly daydreams, began taking root in his head, winding itself into thoughts and plans.
The issue was, while Sinclair wasn't necessarily convinced Gabriel could do it, he also wasn't sure he couldn't.
Honestly, for someone (or something, he muttered in the back of his head) that looked his age, the brat was uncannily convincing. Sinclair had seen his fair share of both conmen and full-fledged confidence men in his time, and Gabriel was the latter. It hadn't escaped him that he'd been sold nothing but possibilities and ideas during that conversation, and yet he was already getting invested.
Still, nothing, from the mutilation of dead bodies and making them move to literally eating splicers (all those tumours couldn't be good for one's health) could measure up to what was happening now.
A great army of infinite maids, of all things, was swarming all around the train station, though there were much, much more of them outside it, presumably to let people move around where they were, carrying splicers in and out of the train station they'd set up shop in, Gabriel deciding that if Lamb wanted them to stop, they'd stay right where they were and 'remove' any of her followers in the Drop while they were at it.
This led to them being attacked at some point in turn, a while after the maids went and just threw the splicers, oftentimes de-limbed and beaten unconscious, onto great piles outside the station, simply lacking enough space to put them in otherwise. The barricades and futuristic turrets they'd prepared were helping, keeping any rabble out and letting Gabriel keep the brute splicers where they belonged- on the other side of a big, fat wall, far as he was concerned.
"Fascinating," Tenenbaum muttered, looking out the windows and fixated on the enormous wolf with shaggy fur breathing wave after wave of ice and snow onto the charging waves of brutes even as they delivered painful-looking punches to his face.
"Plasmids were never designed to change the host's state to this extent, but... hm... A shame we do not have access to a full laboratory and a few test subjects."
Oh great, the madwoman was getting ideas.
Wordlessly, Sinclair continued observing, the horridly mutated splicers now swarming the ceiling and dropping onto the train being mowed down in droves by their valiant defenders faster than they-
Oh, never mind, one of them just made it past that crazy woman Gabriel called Nora, just barely escaping death by enormous knife, only to be mobbed down and stabbed in a dozen places by the rabid horde of Little Sisters just waiting inside the train, his screams resounding loudly inside its metal confines; Sinclair actually got a little of the blood squirting out in all directions on himself, only for one of the things to wipe it off the back of his hand and lick it up, smiling at him afterwards.
God, but what he wouldn't give not to have to deal with them so much.
Just at that moment, though, he saw something that had him take a step back, mentally.
"Good God in heaven," he murmured, vaguely tempted to go look for the nearest cross, just in case, before he remembered he wasn't a pious man and never would be. Gabriel, his new boss, from what it looked like, was apparently the literal devil, as he just mauled the largets splicer he'd even seen, eating it soon thereafter much the same he did normally.
So he was working for literal Satan now. Well, he could imagine worse fates, though many of those involved his employer in less pleasant roles all the same. Maybe he had dental, at least? He sure seemed to use his teeth a lot, if nothing else.
Finishing up the last of the brutes you'd been fending off, still a little annoyed at the giant bruises they kept giving you and at the fact you do not currently have a tongue to lick the blood off your face like you tend to do normally- if anything, you're an even messier eater in this form, given you don't have any lips whasoever.
"Master," the Maid addresses yourself, bowing respectfully with a dozen bodies as even more of them begin to drag the bodies off and clearing the area, "our time in this realm is approaching its end quickly, and we wish to ask if there is anything you wish for us to do beyond our other tasks."
Keep an eye out for anything unusual. Unmutated survivors, strange groups of splicers, the like.
"Your will be done, Master."
WIth that done, you return towards the train, keeping an eye out for anything still moving, the generous amounts of gore and bloodsplatters making it a little harder to actually see living blood signatures.
Nevertheless, you soon rejoin the others, your changed form the target of some scrutiny here and there, but the Big Sisters especially seem to find it agreeable for some reason, staring at and repeatedly touching you.
That said, the main focus are, of course, the Little Sisters, now swarming forth from the train and surrounding you.
"Mr. Aaangeeel!" "So big!" "Tall, not big." "Wiggly-biggly..." "No doggy?" "Heheheh!" In short order, they're starting to climb onto you, touching your twinned tails and tugging on your arms.
Well, while you're like this anyways...
Within moments, you have two Little Sisters riding on both of your tails each, carrying rows of them upon your arms, one on each shoulder and a last pair on your horns, the giggling little girls happily talking and laughing and jostling about.
You would crack a joke of some kind here, but you can't talk, and telling it only to only your thralls and spawn present would be kind of boring, after all.
Still, it isn't long before you're sitting cross-legged to serve as a giant seat for an impromptu tea party, the giggling Little Sisters handing around quickly produced metal teacups (Nora, you traitor) and being merry in general.
The Maid, meanwhile, keeps on working busily, a few bodies waiting on your tea party.
"Let me down! Let me down, you crazy bitches!"
Tipping back your cup of yuckblood, you (carefully) set it down as you turn towards the door that just slid open, doing your best not to jostle your little passengers.
"We have found a man smelling of sunlight, Master," the Maid explains, gesturing towards the struggling man hoisted up above two bodies' heads.
"Who are you people?" He exclaims upon seeing your little congregation, "Are you the ones abducting the children?!"
You would sigh if you could in this form. Instead, you simply wave over Tenenbaum, gesturing for her to explain stuff in your stead.
While you could undo your transformation to talk, you kind of have priorities over here.
"Mr. Aaangeeel, do you want a refill?"
You gratefully take another cup of vaguely disgusting blood. It is, honestly, not that bad, compared to how it tastes in your normal state.
"We are not turning girls into Little Sisters, I can assure you, though we are doing our best to find them and keep them safe. Our goal is to..."
Tuning that whole thing out, you look over at Kate and Sarah instead, the two having joined your little gathering and smirking identical grins at your predicament.
So anyways, I was thinking we'd best get to eating the food sooner, rather than later...
After a very thorough feeding frenzy, during which you can actually consciously notice and feel the knowledge and skills of your victims being assimilated into yourself across the board, alien thoughts and experiences being digested along with the respective souls.
You know, you'd be more annoyed about your inability to lick the massive amount of blood on your face off if it weren't for the fact both Kate and Sarah proceed to climb up your arms and do that for you, making a game of peppering your featureless blank skull with kisses as they do so.
Suffice to say, while you were wanting to check up on your inner world for a moment once you're done eating, your vampire brides take up all your attention in one of the unused train compartments as the rush of blood gets to all of you... not that Nora doesn't take the opportunity to join in, or Okita doesn't come inside to watch, just sitting there with her satisfied expression.
Oh, and both Lucy and Jasmine peek, of course, when they aren't busy herding the Little Sisters who seem to trust them.
Producing the Maggot robots is, for a change, a little bit of a pain in your ass, their circumference a bit larger than the automatic doors' frames and all, though it is nothing a bit of lateral thinking and elbow grease can't solve.
Specifically, you just use the manufactory to build them in parts, then carry those parts through and have Yoshi instantly assemble them in the places you want taken apart. Luckily enough, you do have some dumb manpower to waste in the form of your undead, and so you get the pair of bots underway before you go ahead and focus on more personal things to manage.
And when you say managing personal issues, you mean convincing Lucy to take off her helmet for you, something much easier than with Jasmine as she doesn't seem to suffer from crippling shyness, at least. As you do it, though, sitting in one of the unused train compartments (not the one you just had sex in, the Hammers are still in the middle of recycling everything inside after the amount of unidentified fluids you let out in there), you also begin to, jokingly at first, flirt with both of the Big Sisters in your company, calling them everything from cute and beautiful to your brave and deadly Sisters, Jasmine having followed you inside (you're fifty-fifty on her being jealous of Lucy being alone with you for any length of time).
The results are immediate; where Jasmine blushes so brightly it turns the lights shining out of her helmet pinkish, Lucy, whose face you're already seeing, begins cuddling up to you, prompting the former to do the same despite her issues.
And you're not joking when you say both of their body temperatures actually palpably rise when you begin lightly kissing the sides of their faces(/helmets). Though when Lucy begins kissing you back, the speed at which Jasmine rips her diving helmet off and follows suit is astounding even with your senses.
The pawn shop you found as you took a leisurely stroll through the now entirely empty shantytown, making it a point that you own the place now, is disappointingly empty of mostly any interesting finds, the splicers roaming around most likely having taken any actually valuable loot a long time ago.
That said, you do stumble upon the one thing, what looks like some kind of re-imagined fifties' version of a futuristic camera you find inside a corner of the place. WHile you normally wouldn't be immensely interested in something like this, considering you're perfectly capable of just building a digital camera of some sort thanks to having looked over the basic construction and some example blueprints back on Earth Bet at some point, you also do remember all the advertisement you've seen so far after coming to Rapture.
The genetic research camera, huh?
Tenenbaum is quite pleased with the research camera you bring back, mentioning it is actually based on some of her own earlier research when ADAM-based mutations were almost entirely impossible to categorize and harness yet. She promises to show you how the readout works later, though it doesn't seem to be that difficult- 'it was reduced in complexity and nuance for the public before commercializing it', apparently.
For now, though, you're coaxing Lucy into taking off her suit, something she does with almost casual relish, showcasing that she does, in fact, not wear anything underneath (in contrast to Jasmine's practically nothing).
Doing your best to ignore the happily bouncing Big Sister to your side, you take a look over the design changes you've made over the slapdash, obviously improvised design of the initial Big Sister suit you've already worked on and where to go from your current standpoint.
Big Sister Upgrades
Laser Rifle: You know what the right arm needs? A laser rifle strapped to it, fueled by a fusion core, that's what (3 points)
Arm Knife: The left arm is taken up by the syringe thingy Big Sister doesn't want you to fiddle with, but the right one could be improved with the addition of an oversized extendable knife (2 points)
Scanner: That helmet is aesthetically pleasing, but it also has a lot of room for, say, a small onboard computer using a bastardized version of VATS assisting her in recognizing and targeting enemies (4 points)
Comfy Cage: Seeing as it looks like you'll be riding in that shoulder cage for the foreseeable future, may as well make it a little comfier, with a bit of padding and more room for you to move inside (2 points)
"Sgiiih?"
"Skieh."
"Skiii!"
Ignoring the animated discussion between Jasmine and Lucy as you work inside the walkable part of the manufactory compartment (adding a secondary touchscreen design area and product chute inside the whole thing was worth the trouble), you look over the plans for the right arm, ensuring nothing will blow up unexpectedly in combat conditions.
What they're talking about boils down to Jasmine asking why Lucy is naked and Lucy in turn questioning why Jasmine isn't, though it is complicated by the fact that Big Sister screams and coos aren't an actual language and you aren't about to play translator for this, so they have to play charades to actually get their points across the best they can.
"I'll need you to strip in a moment, too, Jasmine, I'm making improvements to the suits," you say when you're done, growing weary of the subdued screaming behind you.
"Sgiiih?!"
"Yes, all of it. Best to make sure everything fits together and all. Now Lucy, I'll need you to try this on and make sure I got the measurements just..."
Turning around, you're lightly surprised at seeing not only a naked Lucy, but an equally naked Jasmine, blushing up a storm as she tries her best to obscure her privates with both arms, her string panties lying atop the nearby pile of Big SIster armor.
"Sg-giiih?"
Well, you're not sure whether to call the fact you're in your fully-grown form right now a blessing or a curse.
"Aww, what's the matter, Jasmine?" As you ask this, you move on closer to her, licking your lips and stretching out a hand, gently cupping her chin and forcing her to look at you, despite her blush.
"Does it bother you to be suitless in front of me? Would you feel better if I was naked, too?" Not waiting for her to answer, you go shadow, except you don't bother including your clothes.
Meaning that, after a short flicker, you're standing there entirely bare, showing yourself off much like the girls are doing with a smirk.
"There, isn't that much better?"
When Jasmine begins trembling, trying to get a soft screech out to communicate with you, you preempt that with a kiss, meeting her shocked lips with your own.
Not using your tongue, you just stay like that for a long moment, looking deep into Jasmine's eyes. When you eventually let up, you do so because Lucy has taken the opportunity to step next to you, her hands gliding all over your abs and she grins at you.
"What, you wanted some, too?"
She just pushes her face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, while her hands wander downwards, touching all over and fondling your dick even as Jasmine pouts and takes the other side of your neck.
Chuckling, you hug both of them towards you, slowly hardening under Lucy's touch as you gently explore their bodies just as they do yours.
Nobody goes unkissed while the manufactory is totally busy.
The Sinclair Deluxe, as you've already noticed earlier, is basically a heap of scrap.
Now, to be fair to Sinclair, you don't think it was like this back when he built it, nor when he was in charge of it as its owner and administrator. But as it is, you and Delta are creeping through dark hallways, looking into flats through demolished and entirely missing walls and partially climbing up through parts of the cailing that broke down and created pathways to higher floors entirely.
Suffice to say, most of this isn't really fit for human habitation, not in any civilized measure, at least.
That said, despite its sorry state, about half the highest floor, where Sinclair said Grace is most likely to live, having been there since before he lost his position in the chaos of Rapture's downfall, and so it doesn't take you long to advance inside an actually somewhat well-kept apartment, with intact walls and furniture and all.
And, as you quickly notice, a scrapped poster of one Doctor Sofia Lamb with a bright red button visible through a small gash.
"Delta, you mind pressing that? Just in case there's any traps."
"Uooh."
Delta, ever a man of action, tears the poster down, revealing the hollow space you know to be behind it and pressing the button with gusto, causing a nearby wardrobe's back wall to recede upwards and admitting the both of you into a dusty crawlspace leading towards an equally dusty door.
You and Delta share a look before you open it.
"Was wondering when you'd finally come for me, monsters."
Beyond the door, you find a somewhat cramped room, a window to the ocean letting in enough light to make it look like noontime sunshine was blaring inside (though the sun doesn't have power over you, this deep under the ocean's surface). Standing there, a black woman wearing a somewhat stylish yellow dress and shawl awaits you, leaning lightly on her walking stick.
"I know what you're here for," she continues, pulling out a flat rectangle of some kind and carelessly depositing it on a nearby desk. "Come on in and get it. I know I can't stop you from doing what you want, but I don't want you to touch my body all over for it."
Well, if there was ever a bitter old woman, Grace Holloway would fit the bill, you suppose; from her demeanour, she's entirely convinced you're out to kill her. Not that she's all that far out there with her thoughts, mind you, considering what you did with literally every living being you could find in Pauper's Drop.
Making no move to actually get that access key quite yet, you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, subtly motioning for Delta to stay where he is as you do so.
"And what's got your panties in a twist? Aside from, you know, Lamb having a whole thing about what we're doing."
Snorting, Grace looks at you, having tried to keep both you and Delta in her field of view up to now. "If you want to know what's got them so twisted, as you put it, why don't you go ahead and ask that tin daddy behind you?"
"Ooouuuhn?"
The meaning of the sound Delta makes can be summed up as 'If I did anything to her, I have no idea about it, as I don't remember jack shit about anything except shortly before my death'.
"Doctor Lamb trusted me to care for her child, and I tried. But little Eleanor disappeared... And then one day, I see her walking with him. Looking wrong. And when I tried to hold her, he knocked me down, broke my jaw. I don't care what happens to me, but the Family will pay you back, baby-snatchers."
Well, that's a nice story and all, but... Honestly, how are you going to explain this one to her?
"See, that's an interesting story, Grace. Thing is, I'm pretty sure you don't know how Little Sisters actually work or are made."
"What are you talking about, stranger?"
"Well, I've talked to the woman that first designed the whole process. She's a sweetheart, tried to cure as many of the girls as she could and got them out of Rapture years ago, only returned because someone made more of them. But to cut a long story short, Little Sisters are made by implanting an ADAM slug inside their stomachs and then used to produce more ADAM, mostly by having them drink blood heavily filled with ADAM itself. To that end, they're extensively brainwashed and genetically altered, leaving you with a childlike walking ADAM factory compulsively thirsting for the blood of 'ripe' splicers.
All of that takes a lot of resources- the slug itself, a load of ADAM to start with, 're-education centers', staff to do all of this and more. Even if Delta here wanted to horribly mutate Eleanor after stealing her away, I don't think he could. No single person could just up and create Little Sisters. You need a whole organization to even start on that, and Big Daddies are many things, but not organized."
"Guoohn."
"So you're telling me," Grace says, "that I shouldn't blame him for taking Eleanor from me? For keeping her from me after she was turned into a monster?"
"No, but I'm saying your blame is misplaced. He didn't take her from you; just look at the big lug, how would he even steal her away without you noticing? No, someone else did that. And once she was his Little Sister, the Big Daddy programming essentially had him permanently hypnotized to protect her at all costs, from anything. The only reason he didn't break more than your jaw was probably that he realized you weren't trying to hurt her or anything, but you can hardly call Big Daddies people with free will."
"Ouuuhn."
"Honestly, hardly any organism whose main way of communicating is making lonely whale sounds can be evil."
Now Delta just looks at you.
"...Alright, stranger," is what Grace eventually says after she looks you and Delta in the... eyes and helmet, respectively, you suppose. "You've given me much to think about. And a few questions to ask Doctor Lamb later on. For now, just take your key and go."
Taking the access key and pressing it into your hands with the one hand grace isn't straining on her walking cane, she gives you a nod. "I'm not sure what will happen between you and Doctor Lamb, but I wish you all the best regardless. If she asks, well, nothing much a frail old woman can really do in this situation anyways, right?"
Quirking your lips, you can't help but throw in a last bit of banter. "You hardly look THAT frail to me, Grace. Certainly could stand a romp in the bedroom still, if nothing else."
Returning your smirk, Grace shakes her head, letting off a bit of choked laughter. "Really, if all it took to get me in bed was a handsome face flirting at me, I'd have had a lot more lovers back when I was singing in the Limbo. Now shush, leave an old woman her peace."
Smiling at the way she's threatening to physically remove you with her cane, you nod, stopping just short of actually moving out of her sight as you have Delta move back the way you came.
"Just, one last thing? Lamb is the one making new Little Sisters. Be careful when you speak to her, okay?"
"Boy, if you thought old age made me either careless or stupid, you're thinking wrong. Of course I'll be careful. But out here in the Drop, people listen to me when I talk, even now... or they used to, at least, before you came, and I have a few bots around keeping me safe. I have not much to fear from Doctor Lamb besides, she's not one to come at you physically herself, if she can't resolve something with words."
That is the last you hear from Grace Holloway, the two of you exchanging nods even as Delta bids her farewell with an 'Uoohn."
Time for you to move on from Pauper's Drop. You weren't here long, but you did get a lot of things done, in retrospect.
Next stop, this time for real, Fontaine Futuristics!
Screening her notes one last time, Sofia Lamb leaned back in her chair, a hand's worth of fingers tapping her desk.
Factoring this new interference into her plan would be... challenging, for all that some part of her relished the chance to work with a more... difficult patient. For all that Subject Delta was proving the largest roadblock to molding Eleanor into the perfect Utopist, he did not seem to be the driving force of the group making its way through the city; a role reserved for Gabriel, the interesting young man fluctuating between acting like a child and a man, his body's state reflecting his inner turmoil, to a point- though Sofia doubted it could be called that.
For all that this state of mind should unbalance him, he seemed perfectly at ease with it, acting whimsical and spontaneous as well as collected and calculated in equal measure. This oscillating state of mind made it difficult to predict his next step, for all that his goals seemed to be aligned with that of Subject Delta; she could hardly tell which physical age corresponded to his actual one. It was just as easily possible for him to be a young boy driven to grow up at an accelerated pace by his... difficult upbringing, as it was for him to be a fully grown young man around his early twenties indulging in a childish side, whether to escape past trauma or out of sheer whimsy.
Not to mention the seemingly impossible abilities he displayed, but she was resolved to treat them as lesser hindrances compared to his mentality. Should her countermeasures suffice, they shall suffice, if they should not, convincing him of the righteousness of her actions so as to gain his support would be her only recourse, either way.
Similarly, his subversion of the Big Sisters active in the areas he traversed was troubling, to say the least, not to mention the way the Little Sisters she introduced to Rapture forgoing their instinctual urge to gather ADAM in favor of following him, from what she could discern. Subject Delta was proving to be the largets factor in gathering them, possibly copying the mechanism Gabriel Livsey was utilizing, but somehow, they had a way to compromise the extensive brainwashing coupled with the ADAM addiction she was using to employ their use herself, demonstrably cutting short Project Utopia before it could begin, or at least limiting the genius she could imbue into Eleanor significantly.
Troubling, as she thought.
Once more skimming the lines of thought she had gathered on the psychological profiles she was gathering, she corrected herself. Troubling and potentially useful, should she be able to convince him- he seemed receptive enough, though his priorities seemed to differ vastly from her own despite their shared viewpoints. At the very least, it seemed he was in agreement on the basic line of thought that led her to her current position- though the candidness with which he suggested that morality ought to be discarded after a certain point of investment was exceeded was... worrying, to say the least.
What kind of experiences did a logical person go through to drive them to such lengths? Not to mention the calculated bloodthirst he displayed shortly after their discussion- it was one thing to fight and even kill her followers when they put themselves in the way of his objectives, but to go out of his way to slaughter as many of them as possible the way he did before even attempting to find Grace?
It became harder and harder to keep all the impressions he was giving off united. Perhaps it was some kind of- biological imperative, that drove him into ruthlessness? Moreso than the natural human ego's impulse for selfishness, anyways. He (and several of his female companions- chance, design or reproductive urges?) did seem to feed off of the splicers he went to great lengths to capture, and she had seen examples of how the Little Sisters behaved in relation to their own new biological imperatives.
Puzzling... and it would likely remain so until Sofia gathered more information. Perhaps she would need to talk to him again in the near future. But for now, it was time to employ another of her 'countermeasures', placed well in advance and entirely unintended, to boot.
Checking over the cameras letting her look in on the progress Eleanor's indoctrination was making, she activated a certain set of loudspeakers.
"Father Simon Wales," she said, moving a bishop into position, "a group of sinners is coming directly towards your direction."