This is something of an experiment; take a silent protagonist in a game with a morality choice and give him a voice. There's so much potential for you if you speak in this game, so what will folks do with it?

>>2266425
>Johnny Topside, A.K.A. Subject Delta. One of the prototypes of the Protector Project, your existence was always devoted to the protection of your Little Sister, Eleanor. That SHOULD have been your life, living for her and nothing else. But now, as you fall from the Vita Chamber, you find yourself...free, of that particular weight on your chest. The one that holds hostage your very heart, that it only belong to her. Now, now you can speak, though your vocal folds were not much used even before you met your end...
Jack Ryan has a super short life span, fuck being him.

>>2266425
>Johnny Topside, A.K.A. Subject Delta. One of the prototypes of the Protector Project, your existence was always devoted to the protection of your Little Sister, Eleanor. That SHOULD have been your life, living for her and nothing else. But now, as you fall from the Vita Chamber, you find yourself...free, of that particular weight on your chest. The one that holds hostage your very heart, that it only belong to her. Now, now you can speak, though your vocal folds were not much used even before you met your end...

>>2266431
>>2266437
I'll give it another ten-ish minutes, to let people notice the quest exists.

>>2266431
>>2266437
Mmkay then, closing votes, writan

You fall from the Vita Chamber deep inside of a room...filled with pink. In front of you is a little sister NOT YOURS, and behind you is the crackling green energy that you just fell from. Even as you struggle to rise, you can hear a faint crackling in your suit's radio. Someone, a woman, asking if you can hear them.

More than that, though, you feel...different. Calm. You know, quite distinctly, something very, very important is missing. You can FEEL something, pulling you...away. And down. But despite how it buzzes away in your very soul, you are capable of...ignoring it.

What do you do?

>Stand up and look around. You're laying in a puddle, which should not be possible if Rapture is being maintained properly.
>Answer the woman. It's been a long time since you spoke properly. You finally feel you can, now.
>Realize what's missing.

>>2266500
Oh, if you pick option 2, please decide on something to say.

>>2266500
>Realize what's missing.

>>2266500
>>Realize what's missing.
>Answer the woman. It's been a long time since you spoke properly. You finally feel you can, now.
I live, and I hear you. What happened?

>>2266505
>>2266517
Writing, with commentary.

File: Spoiler Image (1.37 MB, 1920x1080)

1.37 MB PNG

>>2266510
>>2266517
You groan as you try to think, pushing the feeling out of your mind for a moment. Let's see...neck muscles there, lips...like so...it's like riding a bicycle. You never truly forget. After a few moment's of effort, you speak.

"I live...and I hear you," you say, your first words since you were...made. Your voice is like loose silt, sharp, filled with gravel, and laced with metal. "What happened?"

It takes her a few moments to answer. Apparently, she is as surprised at your speech as you are. Quickly enough, though, she remembers, and says, "Alot...tell me, Herr Delta, what is the last thing you remember?"

It takes a moment, but when it hits you, it hits like all the fury of the ocean. You were doing the rounds in the Adonis resort with your Little Sister, Eleanor. She had just had a filling from a corpse a few rooms away from some party, and had run off through the upper-class twits in search of more ADAM.

Her scream had you tearing through that party like a tidal wave of fury, and those who made her cry out got much the same treatment.

The last, however, did...something, to you. It made you stop, made you see Eleanor where she stood.

It made you obey, in a way that tore your instincts apart.

You remember Lamb, Dr. Sofia Lamb, handing you a gun, and ordering you to vent your skull in front of Eleanor.

You're moving before you're even fully processed what this means. That drive, that pull, it's something fierce, and you're barreling through the glowing pink coral that lines the staircase and bars the door as though it were not even there.

"EleANoRRrrrR"

It's not until you've driven your drill clean through a pillar that you could have easily ducked under that you finally take control of yourself, putting a hand to your helmet while those instinctual pulls tug at you once more, making your skull ache like your head-wound were still fresh.

"Well, I guess that answers THAT question," comes the german-accented voice through your radio.

>Answer her, (how?)
>Forget her, just move on.

>>2266572
>>Answer her, (how?)

Where. Is. She?

>>2266577
This.

>>2266577
>>2266594
Writing.

>>2266577
>>2266594
You put your gloved fist into a wall to steady yourself. The pain from punching such a solid object draws you from the throbbing in your skull, at least enough to respond.

"Where. Is. She?" Your words are a growl, a bestial, furious sound made all the more off-putting by the metallic groan in your voice.

"Sofia Lamb has her. I can help." Given the nervousness and slight desperation in her voice, your words must have had an effect on her. There's a small twinge of satisfaction in that, a positive feeling that the rest of your psyche rallies around.

Odd. Scaring her helped calm you down some. That roar to find Eleanor, the outrage and absolute need, recedes back to a faint buzz in your core. You no longer feel like you're ready to die.

"How?" you ask, your voice much calmer now.

"It is...complicated. Come, meet me at Atlantic Express. I have much to tell you."

If you want answers, it seems you'll have to find your way out of here. If you remember correctly, though, Atlantic Express wasn't too far from the Adonis Resort, at least geographically.

You have to find your way out, first.

Removing your fist from its new perfectly-shaped indent in the wall, you take off through the hallway again, entering another room to find a mostly-empty pool area.

With a spindly, spider-like schmuck in resized, Protector-grade equipment bouncing from wall to wall like a Goddamned rabbit. It leaps from one statue across the pool to another, then to the far side of the pool from you. By the time the last statue it had graced itself upon as fallen, it has already left the room through the only functioning door.

The generator is in this room. The door to your right will not open without the generator working. The only way forwards is through the door that the Big-Daddy-Spider-Thing dashed through.

>Try and fix the generator yourself. You are NOT following that thing. (DC 80, Bo3)
>Follow the evil spider thing. If it's a proper Protector model, it shouldn't bother you if you avoid the Little Sisters.

File: adonis.png (1.61 MB, 1280x1024)

1.61 MB PNG

>>2266662
fuck, forgot the image

>>2266662
>>Try and fix the generator yourself. You are NOT following that thing. (DC 80, Bo3)

>>2266662
>>Try and fix the generator yourself. You are NOT following that thing. (DC 80, Bo3)

>>2266670
>>2266672
Right, gonna need 3 rolls of 1d100

Do be careful, the generator is sparking. A failure can get you seriously injured.

Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>2266698

Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>2266698

Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>2266698

File: shame.gif (968 KB, 245x213)

968 KB GIF

>>2266708
>>2266709
>>2266716

File: fallenisbabylon.jpg (131 KB, 900x675)

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>>2266708
>>2266709
>>2266716
Deciding that following the giant spider protector was NOT something you wanted to do, you instead headed over towards the generator, to see if you could fix it and find another way out.

>>2266709
To be fair, it actually goes very smoothly. A voice recorder next to the generator gives some vague instructions on how to start it up with a direct shock.

It's the subsequent electrocution launching you down into the pool and cracking your helm on the statue that complicates things.

You find yourself in a Vita Chamber, this time NOT a few moments away from vomiting out your guts. No, this time you're standing tall and strong, ready to leave under your own power. As you exit the vita chamber, though, you notice something you missed.

[u]Fallen, Fallen is Babyblon[/u]

How charming.

>Take another crack at that generator. (DC 50, since you now know what NOT to do)
>Follow the spider thing. You apparently can't stay dead anyways. How bad could it be?

So yes, I am willing to kill you if you fuck up or do something stupid.

Luckily, as long as you're in rapture, death is not the end!

>>2266738
>a quest where no matter how bad we fuck up, we dont permanently die.
Already loving the premise. This just made it even better

File: Chill out I got this.jpg (34 KB, 431x450)

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Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>2266734
>>Take another crack at that generator. (DC 50, since you now know what NOT to do)

>>2266749
So long as you're in rapture, yes.

Also, do keep in mind that you'll only be sent back to the nearest Vita chamber. Being trapped is entirely possible. I won't be that mean unless you do something monumentally stupid, though.

Like pouting in the Persephone facility while it sinks into the Marianas Trench

>>2266752
Any more takers? I'm still going to ask for three votes (critfails are a thing)

>>2266734
>>Take another crack at that generator. (DC 50, since you now know what NOT to do)

>>2266767
Three rolls, sorry.

Right, seems like we've got a winner.

Two more rolls. Don't fuck up.

Im trying to remember the game, and im fairly sure we would get electroshock to actaully fix the generator if we followed big sis. But since the just seems to be the 3 of us lets try the genrrator again. Also are u gonna follow 1for1 the whole story just with us in control and talking or are u gonna modify tje plot more heavily?

Rolled 4 (1d100)

Jesus phone posting is horrible

>>2266783
My dice rolls are even worse it seems

>>2266777
You certainly COULD follow the story. However, Lamb told quite a few lies and nobody was there to gainsay her.

You could follow the story and win that way, saving the little sisters while leaving the rest of Rapture to Rust and Rot. Or you can start your own movement, take Rapture over, and lead a glorious conquest.

Or you can say 'Fuck that' to all this nonsense, go to the surface of the world in 1968 with all the plasmids, ADAM, and proprietary secrets you can get your gloves on, and live the posh life just like Sinclair always dreamed of.

Of course, there's really only a few paths that lead to you actually saving Eleanor.

Still need a roll.

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>2266797

>>2266804
Darn, no critfail. Oh well, guess you won't be getting electroshock, or meeting face to face with an Eleanor-drone, or potentially ganking a Big Sister like a bitch

Writing!

>>2266752
>>2266783
>>2266804
Right, let's just...pretend that didn't happen, and set aside the quandry of eternal life for another day. As you make your way back to the generator, you contemplate what you did wrong. The big thing is just grabbing a sparking wire with your gloved hand. That was kinda stupid. Your hand is covered in metal diodes that have been sewn directly into the meat of your hand, so that you could use plasmids through them.

Instead, you use your drill. It's metal, yes, but it also has a great amount of insulation between the actual drillbit and everything else, to prevent a splicer with some electric mod from using it as a grounding rod against you.

It takes some finagling, but you eventually get one of the sparking wires to tap against the panel they've got set up. The shock results in a great deal of arcing electricity, punctuated by bangs and booms from within the generator itself, but eventually the whole mess starts right up.

The lights turn on, and under the lights the rust is quite clearly visible. There's a twinge in your heart, something emotional, as memories of this place when it was gleaming and golden rise up.

What now?
>The door is open, proceed onwards.
>That buzzing you've felt seems to get particularly insistent whenever you look at the door the Spider Protector went through. See what's up.

>>2266832
>>That buzzing you've felt seems to get particularly insistent whenever you look at the door the Spider Protector went through. See what's up.

>>2266832
>>That buzzing you've felt seems to get particularly insistent whenever you look at the door the Spider Protector went through. See what's up.

>>2266854
>>2266867
Looks like we goin someplace fun tonight.

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>>2266872
You look over at the door that could probably lead you out of here without every having to deal with the creepy spider protector bullshit...buuuut that tugging in you says something else.

It says 'Follow the creepy fuckin spider protector, what's the worst that could happen?'
So, you go through the door, only now bothering to actually read what it says above it.

Interesting.

Making your way inside, you look over a receptionist's desk to see some more graffiti.

"Lamb is Watching"

A mirror of what's written on the pool.

You don't really like the sound of this 'Sofia Lamb' person.

As you make your way further in, entering a hallway, a woman runs through the door on your left only to get filled with holes before she ever even sees you. She falls to the ground like a sack of bricks.

Combat instincts and reflexes properly engaged, you dart around the corner like a hornet, swinging your drill like a mace and painting the wall with the shooter's brains. It's not until the red mist recedes that you actually think about what you did, but ultimately you decide killing a splicer who just murdered someone in cold blood doesn't deserve some moral quandary.

No, what's more interesting is the red bottle in the back, with a nice, pink bow on it, sitting on the dispensary shelf of a Gatherer's Garden.

As you approach it, curious, your buzzing grows louder, and louder, until it starts to sound like something intentional...

father...

You shake your head to clear it of the buzzing and consider what to do with the bottle in front of you, the lid labeled 'Electro Bolt.'

>Juice yourself up. You'll need it to survive.
>Don't. You're a strong, independent Big Daddy who don't need no genetic modification.

>>2266883
>>Don't. You're a strong, independent Big Daddy who don't need no genetic modification.

>>2266888
I feel like I should say that just because I give you the choice to throw off the story doesn't mean it's always going to be the best idea.

>>2266888
I feel like I should wait for one more vote.

Meh, stopping for tonight. I'll need three rolls of 2d100, DCs 80 and 85 respectively, and then I'm going to bed. I'll post some more tomorrow.

>>2266883
>>Juice yourself up. You'll need it to survive.

Rolled 25, 85 = 110 (2d100)

>>2266909

Rolled 79, 75 = 154 (2d100)

>>2266883
>Juice yourself up. You'll need it to survive.
We’ve already been spliced and altered as hell to become a big daddy in the first place. Turning down necessary plasmids isn’t going to unfuck us genetically.

>>2266951
>>2267162
Good morning, folks. I'll need one more roll, then I can type out an update for you to have fun with over the course of the day.

>>2266883
>>Don't. You're a strong, independent Big Daddy who don't need no genetic modification.

>>2267607
I need a 2d100

Rolled 6, 19 = 25 (2d100)

Fuck it, I'll roll then.

>>2267635
Meh, not a critfail. And it's so close...I'll give it to you.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2266888
>>2266946
>>2267162
>>2267607
1 is for taking it, 2 is for not

File: gatherer's garden.png (1.42 MB, 1440x900)

1.42 MB PNG

>>2267644
You look around at the Gatherer's Garden, and at all the scribblings on the walls.

Please Hurry Daddy

Come soon

Find me

From EleAnORRRrrrr....

Your mind throbs again as that buzzing becomes a roar for a few brief seconds, your chest tightening up. But then it subsides, and you return your attention to the red bottle in front of you. The plasmid. The gift...from her.

Taking the bottle, you pull out an empty hypo, jam it through the lid, and fill it up with the pre-altered ADAM. Moving the needle to your wrist, you slide the needle through the IV opening in your suit, and push the red fluid inside.

It's a warmth that is unfamiliar to your cold flesh, a burning sensation that makes everything else feel like it's on fire. You can feel your skin, not just the suit, rubbing against the coarse fibers. You can feel your heart, beating in defiance of the mutated muscles around it that have torn themselves trying to smother you. Most of all, though, you can feel the metal.

Blue arcs of electricity dance over your form as you collapse to the ground, overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity of the sensation, the ADAM mutating your body even as it rewrites your genetic code.

It's a rather shocking sensation, one that makes staying conscious a struggle for a few moments.

File: Spoiler Image (22 KB, 350x420)

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>>2267666
Quickly enough, though, you recover. This isn't even the first time today you've had an obscene amount of electricity coursing through your body. It's just the first time it stuck around.

As you stand up, you see a Little Sister not yours approaching you.

Her voice is like some demon was using the child, deep yet sonorous with her own in a way that is wholly unnatural. It tugs at your heartstrings in a very literal way.

"Daddy was sleeping...for such a long time...Eleanor missed you...find her and you'll be all better."

She gives you the most innocent smile in the world as she finishes speaking...when the door to your right opens up, a single, quiet footstep being the only warning you get.

>>2267162
Even as the Little Sister not yours lets out a scream of shock at being picked up, your hand lashes out, grabbing the bow-topped cage on her and PULLING the runner away. The Little Sister goes flying from her hands and into an adorable pile off to the side, even as the spider-thing's feet fly up from the sheer momentum.

>>2266951
Not even close to done with this thing yet, you use her own momentum to flip it up and over your shoulder, slamming it down face-first into the solid stone floor. Electricity arcs out from your hand, through the thing's cage, and into the spider-protector itself, keeping it stunned while your drill lances forwards.

You drive the spinning point into its shoulder, the powerful engine tearing through its suit and into the meat of its shoulder. In a moment, there's nothing left of the joint but a stain on your drill and a mess of ground meat and bone clinging to it.

Having severed its arm, the thing is understandably still quite in shock at the sudden brutality you've visited on it, something you're going to take full advantage of. Swinging your arm back, you throw the bleeding body right into the gatherer's garden you'd been using. Before it can recover, your foot is in its face, crumpling the helmet denting the reinforced casing of the Plasmid dispensary.

As the new corpse bleeds out, you take a moment to take stock.

Fucking bitch-ass spider thing: ganked. Little Sister not yours: safe. German woman... "Scheiße..." Properly horrified at your killing capacity.

Honestly, you're probably a bit glad you'd been shocked earlier by the generator. If you'd taken even a half-second longer to recover from the Plasmid shock, this thing would have been out the door before you could blink.

>>2267690
What do you do now, oh slayer of surprisingly gankable spindly spider people?

>>2267694
Check up on the Little Sister.
Ask her if she's okay or if she needs any help.
She ain't ours but we've still got old instincts.

>>2267747
The vote's going to stay open until I'm done with classes. Probably a few hours yet.

>>2267747
Seconding this.

>>2267694
>>2267747
Secure the little sister, ask her if she knows where to find Eleanor. Did any more ADAM or plasmids fall out of the Gather’s Garden when we smashed the Spider-thingy into it?

>>2267747
>>2268049
>>2268239
Righto then. Writing.

File: bigsister2.jpg (209 KB, 1250x1226)

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>>2268277
You stride over to where the...the young one had fallen. A little girl, mutated and twisted, implanted with a slug that takes pristine biological material and makes the holy grail of genetic sciences from it in a single, red slurry cocktail. Her needle is on the ground next to her, but you pick it up and offer it to her as she looks at you.

"Big Sister...?" she mumbles numbly, looking at the ruined body you'd left behind, but you can see the moment where her instincts kick in, the abject horror at what you'd done ticking over into awe and trust at seeing a Big Daddy.

You don't say anything. You don't have to. Even as you stay knelt down, she clambers up on your shoulders just like Eleanor used to. The nostalgia causes pangs in your chest that aren't wholly sympathetic.

That done, you go and inspect the corpse and the machine you killed it against. Or her, you suppose, if the name 'Big Sister' is anything to go by.

It's definitely a protector model. The fabric is different, but it's a matter of design and not quality. Harder plates, with loose fabric in between. Freedom of movement, though vulnerable at the joints. Except of the left shoulder, the one you had not drilled through. That one was armored...likely because the cage, covered in bows, was just the right size for a Little Sister.

The other shoulder held an air tank, something you'd avoided when disarming her. Yours is internalized, with only a small external tank on the back of your helmet doing anything. Along her legs was some odd frame structure, with a joint where her knees were. You reach out to touch it, and an errant spark from your hand contacts the joint making it extend. Plasmid-controlled electric motor, used to enhance her own agility? Fancy bit of tech there, but it doesn't draw quite as much of your attention as her weapons.

The arm you tor off only has a pneumatic hammer with a barbed, sharpened point. Brutal, but effective for a decisive strike even at a hard to reach angle. The other arm, her left one...

That's a modified Little Sister needle. Sized up, different exterior alloy to make it combat capable, a slot for it to sink back into or extend like a baton. There's even a tank on it, which, if it IS a Little Sister needle modified for combat...just a twist here, and...

There's a faint hiss as you remove the canister from the Big Sister. You can hear, feel the sloshing within, and the one on your shoulder confirms it. "ADAM, Daddy!"

File: littlesister.jpg (87 KB, 900x506)

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>>2268309
Still, not like you can use it here anyways. Even though your kick hadn't bust the Gatherer's Garden open like an egg, it HAD caused enough damage to shut the machine off and lock it down. Still, there's a gap between the display window and the metal casing...

What do you do about the ADAM?
>Keep it. You'll need all the ADAM you can get, though you won't be able to do anything with it until you get to a Gatherer's Garden.
>Leave it. It will just make you a target for Splicers, and you can't deal with that shit right now.

What do you do with the Little Sister?
>Bring her to the Nearest Vent and send her on her way.
>Escort her around until she's got her fill of ADAM, you'll get your share too.
>Harvest her. You need all you can get and you can't afford to play babysitter right now.

What do you do now?
>Escort the Little Sister (has to be taken with the associated above option, will get two rolls of 1d100 to determine ADAM gained)
>Try to bust into the Gatherer's Garden (DC 60 to break in without ruining the tonics, DC 80 to do so and still have a functioning plasmid you can take.)
>Just leave. The sooner you get to Atlantic Express, the sooner you can find Eleanor.

>>2268321
>>Keep it. You'll need all the ADAM you can get, though you won't be able to do anything with it until you get to a Gatherer's Garden.
>Bring her to the Nearest Vent and send her on her way.
>Just leave. The sooner you get to Atlantic Express, the sooner you can find Eleanor.

>>2268321
>>Keep it. You'll need all the ADAM you can get, though you won't be able to do anything with it until you get to a Gatherer's Garden.
>Escort her around until she's got her fill of ADAM, you'll get your share too.
>Escort the Little Sister (has to be taken with the associated above option, will get two rolls of 1d100 to determine ADAM gained)

>>2268325
>>2268327
Gonna need more consensus on those last two.

>>2268321
>>Keep it. You'll need all the ADAM you can get, though you won't be able to do anything with it until you get to a Gatherer's Garden.
>Escort her around until she's got her fill of ADAM, you'll get your share too.
>Escort the Little Sister (has to be taken with the associated above option, will get two rolls of 1d100 to determine ADAM gained)

>>2268406
Alright, looks like we've got ourselves a winner.

I'll need two rolls of 1d100.

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>2268461

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2268461
I know it's been slow for things, but don't worry, this is a new quest! And it's a monday.

a second roll for speed

>>2268473
...okay then

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>>2268472
>>2268473
You put the ADAM canister in one of the many pouches and slots set aside in your suit for carrying supplies, then turn your attention to the Little Sister not yours on your shoulder. A minor focus, and your senses...split, in a way. The buzzing changes tone, and a sort of static appears in your visions, your sense of smell, and a faint chime in your ears.

"ADAM, Daddy! This way!"

With lumbering grace, you follow the trail out of Plasmid Therapy, only stopping to pick up a few EVE hypos on your way out.

As you leave the area, you find a pair of Splicers have come to investigate what all the noise was about. They seem quite shocked to see the lights on, though one has, quite inadvisably, decided to stand on the ruined diving board. You throw a lightning bolt his way and brain the other genetically-ruined freak while he convulses and falls to his death, electrifying the water in the process.

You make your way back to the room you woke up in, and find...five.

Five bodies, with none of the telltale disfigurement of a deranged Plasmid and Tonic addict, filled with ADAM, that had been inaccessible before now. Before Eleanor had made a dedicated effort to reach the Vita Chamber that spawned you.

What's more, there's only one way for Splicers to actually make their way into this room, and you use some rubble to barricade it while the Little Sister not yours gets to work.

200 CCs of ADAM, gained in fifteen minutes, with no interference from splicers. There's really no question; you drop her off in the nearby vent on your way out of the room, giving her an affectionate pat on the head as you do so. That done, you make your way out of the pool area, seeing another Big Daddy seal up a leaky window with a rivet gun on the way.

You give him a thumbs up to let him know the leak's stopped, running your hands over the spot to double check.

It's hard-working folks like him that have made sure this city hasn't already collapsed under the weight of the ocean.

That done, you make your way up to the Adonis Resort foyer...and see that godawful gaudy window, the biggest structural weakness in the whole damn building. Honestly, one good blow from that and you could probably flood the whole thing...

...

>Don't.
>No, seriously, don't.
>That guy just got done fixing a leak, don't make his work pointless.
>There's probably some loot you can look for instead. (Bo3 1d100)
>pic related

>>2268558
>>There's probably some loot you can look for instead. (Bo3 1d100)

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2268564

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2268558
>Don't break it
>Look for loot

While we're waiting on roll 3, does anyone have any comments or concerns about the quest? Things I should be doing differently?

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>2268558
roll 3 for speeding along
>>2268595
Nothing I can think of so far. Not that there's a ton to go off of this early into things. I'll keep any future criticisms in mind.

>>2268558
>>That guy just got done fixing a leak, don't make his work pointless.
>>There's probably some loot you can look for instead. (Bo3 1d100)

Apologies for the unscheduled break, I'll be writing now.

llooooooooot

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>>2268565
>>2268570
>>2268603
You decide AGAINST wrecking the shit out of those windows, and instead opt to backtrack a bit. It turns out that the hunk of metal you knocked out of the way of one of the doors was actually a rivet gun, though it was only a base model. Sweet. Now you'll be able to keep this place from collapsing around you. Probably.

Some more scrounging nets you a few rivets, another eve hypo, and even a first aid kit! The Rapture kits are pretty nifty; the surface doesn't have gunk that can quite literally fill in the missing portions of flesh without scarring over.

Moving on, you also find a room with a busted out Bathysphere. The sphere itself is a loss, but you can totally take a dive through that hole and into the ocean. Deciding this is far better than knocking a hole in the building, move the Bathysphere out of the way with your BULGING MUSCLES OF MANLINESS and hop into the water.

You sink like someone wearing enough metal to block up the hole you just jumped through.

Walking on the ocean shore isn't too big of an issue, and Adonis, being on the outskirts of Rapture, lets you get some damn fine views of the city you helped build.

You were one of the first people down here, and even now part of you remembers coming down in that bell and havin yourself a look at the ocean floor. Your hand had been ruined in the war, but when it got bit by one of those slugs it was all healed up a couple of days later. Yours was the first of many such incidents that led to the discovery of ADAM.

Seeing one of the little shits wigglin around down here fills you with nostalgia.

Soon enough, though, you're making your way into the Atlantic Express railway station...

>>2268717
As you cycle through the airlock, your radio crackles to life once again. "Ah, Herr Delta...you arrived, just as the little ones said you would. Come upstairs to the ticket booth, and I will offer what I know of you."

Her instructions are simple and to the point, so you ignore the diving suits strung up like hung men right outside the airlock and follow the splicer upstairs. He's going on about a baby or something, how 'she won't even notice.' Whatever he's talking about, you don't like it, but as you move closer to confront him the panel he's talking into sparks and falls closed.

Conveniently, there's a remote hack tool nearby. Yoink!

There's more graffiti on the other side of the door. "We will be reborn." Lovely, Lamb has made herself a cult of some sort. With her as the Messiah.

She's probably positively tickled by it all, being worshipped by a bunch of brain-injured maniacs.

It's as your walking through, casually braining a couple of splicers that think charging a Big Daddy with no promise of Little Sister is a good idea (really, this is just natural selection playing itself out) that you hear another of Lamb's little 'sermons.' She talks about 'rejecting the self' and 'all for the family' but it's all bottled up in religious claptrap. None of these idiots seem all that faithful anyways, so you doubt anyone's listening.

Really, with that railway car damn near falling on top of you (you blame the splicers honestly, timing's too convenient) you have much more pressing matters.

Eventually, you reach the Gate Control, flip the switch, and...

Everything turns off.

Then the screens turn on. And on those screens is a face. A face you've seen painted on walls all along your path. A face you saw, moments before you died.

"I know you," Sophia Lamb says. "That symbol on your hand marks you a dead man."

You can feel the rage, the fury, the HATE rising, building up in you, threatening to explode. She's the one who took you from your charge, who took your life, who took what little purpose you had left.

"Ten years, Subject Delta, since I watched you put a gun to your head -- and pull the trigger."

Also that.

>A wild Lamb appeared. What do, /qst/?

File: lambiswatching.png (640 KB, 905x491)

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>>2268771
image

>>2268771
"I'll be sure to point at YOUR head and pull the trigger when I find you."

>>2268783
Do keep in mind that it'll be difficult to make long, eloquent statements like this. You're rather...upset, right now. Not in a mood conducive to focusing.

Not that your statement is invalid, just that I'll be modifying it if it wins.

>>2268771
"GIVE. HER. BACK."
"YOU. WILL. SUFFER."
No or between them. She will give her back. And even if she does, she will suffer. Punishment is due.

>>2268771
>"You know nothing Sophia Lamb"
>Coolaid man through the wall to freedom.

>>2268797
Drill dash- basically.

>>2268797
>>2268798
You don't have Drill Dash yet

BUT I'LL FUCKIN ALLOW IT

>>2268771
Get out of the ticket booth and find some cover, Lamb knows what’s coming for her- probably sending more of her splicer goons while she tries to enrage us.

>>2268805
Probably should have mentioned, but the door lost power when the lights went out.

You're locked in, basically.

Alright, folks.

Can we get some consensus in these votes?

>>2268833
I'm willing to drill through a wall.
Though I still support my short but sweet dialogue.

>>2268783
>>2268795
>>2268797
>>2268805
Right, for the sake of moving on, we'll go with calling Lamb a floofy Targaryen bastard.

writan

>>2268813
Well then just apply the cool-aid man approach and gtfo of the booth

File: tenenbaum.png (1.84 MB, 800x500)

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"YOU. KNOW. NOTHING."

Your voice is the Ocean, your words are the tide, all rumbling with barely contained fury inside of your metallic helm.

"SOPHIA LAMB."


Lamb, for her part, stops what was probably a nicely prepared speech to stare at you in shock, both at your words and at the absolute HATE that fills them. Your piece said, and your willingness to deal with this absolute BITCH of a human being completely gone, you follow suit and bust through the window of the gatehouse.

"OH YEAH!"

Outside, you find a small platoon of Splicers that were apparently getting ready to shoot you like a fish inside a steel barrel. Half of them are holding guns with no mags. All of them look absolutely horrified at seeing you free.

"OH NO!"

What follows is a literal bloodbath, painting the corridor red with the blood of the genetically unclean. Rivets are fired, torsos are drilled through, and holes in your flesh are patched up with your medkit. Pieces of face and flesh go flying about in your bloody rampage, and not a single one of Lamb's splicers manages to escape alive.

Finally, when all are dead, you manage to calm down, standing there panting as you slowly walk towards the next Expressway station where the German Woman's ticket booth is.

She looks absolutely horrified, seeing you covered in what used to be people before they got all spliced up.

Your rampant slaughter of them probably didn't help that notion.

>What do you say to the crazy ex-nazi scientist?

>>2268882
Hello Good Doctor. Maybe give a wave for friendliness.

>>2268882
"TEN. YEARS."
"WHAT. HAPPENED?"
Get info on anything important we missed in our 'sleep'.

>>2268882
Good after... morning?

Wheres Eleanor.

>>2268890
>>2268897
>>2268923
"Put three men in a room and you'll have three opinions, or something." -Some smart guy, probably

>>2268897
This one then?

>>2268973
DONE!

I'll figure out how I want to present this, whether to type out Tenenbaum's accent, and all that other shit tomorrow. I need to get my sleep, since I've got class in the morning.

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So lads, what are your plans for the future?
Personally, I want to work our way up to converting splicers into Big Daddies. They're both protectors of the little sisters, and they're skilled construction workers. I think it'd be in Rapture's best interest to have a renewed construction force, no? Especially with the condition it's currently in.
Besides, nothing of value would be lost, and something of value would be gained. Those splicers already lost their minds. They exist only as destructive entities now. Might as well put them to use doing good instead of bad, and big daddies are the way to do that.

I also think that, when we start coming across big daddies guarding little sisters, we probably shouldn't be killing them off just to get some adam (from harvesting or adoption). There's probably a better way to handle these situations. Who knows, maybe we can get them to understand us in some way, cooperate with us even.

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>>2268975
"Ten. Years," you growl out, your words slow and laborious. Each is an effort of will to move your jaw in ways that would normally be impossible with the muscle rearrangements that were part of the process. Still, the more you speak, the easier it gets. And there is a question you must ask.

"What. Happened?"

The woman on the other side of the glass, surrounded by the young girls who do not shy from your gore-covered form, flinches with every word. But soon enough, she starts speaking.

"The basics," she says. "I am Doctor Brigid Tenenbaum. I was in charge of creating the Little Sisters; the modification and implantation processes are still in use even today. I am the one who made your own Little Sister, Eleanor."

The buzzing flares at her name, hearing it spoken by someone else, but with an effort of will you push it down so you can hear her speak. "Ten years ago, you died, so it'd be two years later that things...escalated. Andrew Ryan trying to have Frank Fontaine killed, but Fontaine faked his death and managed to assassinate Ryan using his own mind-controlled son, Jack as a patsy. I managed to break the man's control on Jack, and he killed Fontaine shortly after, then left for the surface. Sophia Lamb filled in the power vacuum with collectivist rhetoric, and has been building the power base and facilitating the indoctrination of her cult in Rapture ever since."

She pauses for a moment, to let you digest the words, but you're a Big Daddy. While some of this is surprising, nothing can really match the artificial shock that surged in you at realizing Eleanor wasn't there next to you. You pick out the relevant, actionable bits and discard everything else. She does raise one question.

"Why. Help. Me?"

She gives you a judging look, as though trying to determine just how cunning a beast you are, before she replies, "I came to hate my work. What I was doing to these poor girls. I developed a way to...mitigate the symptoms. Partially reverse the process. Sophia Lamb would condemn a thousand thousand girls to that false-life fate, for the good of the many. Thus, she is my enemy. As she is yours."

Her interest is in saving the Little Sisters. She believes you could help. She seems to be waiting for an answer...likely some confirmation.

Do you agree to help her?
>Yes. You will not force anyone to live in the false world of exploitation that Eleanor suffered.
>No. Eleanor was happy. These girls are also at peace with their world, as long as they have a Big Daddy to protect them.

>>2270225
Fuck, this is me.

>>2270225
>Make no promises. Only state that Lamb will pay, and you will get Eleanor back. Anything beyond that doesn't matter yet. Besides, your mind will be clearer once that is done.

>>2269360
Interesting fact, there is potentially a cure for splicer-ism but it could be years off in terms of development.


>>2270234
This.

>>2270257
You're right, that IS interesting.
Wonder if we'll learn about that in our rampages.

>>2270225
>Yes. You will not force anyone to live in the false world of exploitation that Eleanor suffered.

>>2270225
>Make no promises. Only state that Lamb will pay, and you will get Eleanor back. Anything beyond that doesn't matter yet. Besides, your mind will be clearer once that is done.

I'll join in on it

>>2270259
We've got the person we'd need to talk to right in front of us and she'd already know what she needs given this is the point in-story she disappears off to start working on it.

Her method of curing little sisters is a prototype for the cure but can't work on splicers thanks to the sheer range of genetic damage caused by the different combinations of plasmids. She needs access to the "Thinker" super computer in order to develop a true cure but given the ability to produce it, we could potentially save some of the greatest minds in rapture.


So, on the whole, our plans are to SAVE ELANOR , restore the sanity of the general population and create more big daddies to restore the city.

File: 6a5.jpg (168 KB, 1033x679)

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>>2270292
A solid plan, I like it.
My only concern is how trustworthy some of these geniuses are. Tenenbaum included. She always helps the protagonists,
but something about her doesn't sit right with me.

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>>2270292
Not to mention the huge variety of dosages and the fact that formulas were in a constant state of refinement, resulting in each "batch" giving a slightly different mutation!

Damn shame about all the "greatest minds in Rapture" ending up in that one guy. But who knows, maybe you'll never even hear about that.

>>2270225
>>Yes. You will not force anyone to live in the false world of exploitation that Eleanor suffered.

>>2270296
Tenenbaum is surprisingly one of the more moral ones, mostly because she gives a damn about the little sisters. However she really shouldn't sit right with you considering she was literally imprisoned during the holocaust and got the nazi's to not kill her by being that good at science. Her morality is extremely questionable but so long as we care for her little sisters and contain rapture's insanity? She odd to at least not work against us.

However, I must agree. Most of the other geniuses are either entirely amoral, dead or insane. Even with the ADAM-cure they might still be too far gone.

>>2270299
True. Worst comes to worst we can just get more minds from the surface.

File: Delta.png (499 KB, 489x1008)

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>>2270234
>>2270257
>>2270276
You consider her offer carefully. Her help could make things so much easier, her understanding of both Eleanor's and your own condition...you could potentially be free. She understood the innate behavior, the instinct that drove you to find Eleanor. That buzzing in your core that would not be silenced.

But you could not bring it in yourself to lie. To promise her what you did not have. The honest truth is that you want Lamb to suffer, and you need Eleanor back.

"No. Promises," you say, forcing the words out. "Need. Eleanor." A pause. "Lamb. Will. Suffer."

Tenenbaum searches you for a few moments, as if expecting your armed and armored, horribly mutated and surgically twisted body will somehow spontaneously develop body language she can understand. Eventually, she sighs and gives you a nod. "That is the best I can get, I suppose," she says, almost resigned. Something slides through the window that'd normally produce tickets, a hypo filled with ADAM. "Here. Take this. It will-"

The screen behind her flicks on. "Citizens of Rapture:" comes Lamb's voice, as a picture of you fills the view. "This is Subject Delta. Behind that mask lies an enemy of the people, without soul or sympathy." The screen changes, and it shows your gloves instead. The Delta symbol on your left hand is clear. "It is a Beast Apart -- and as Family, we must rip out its jaw and drive it back into the sea!" The last image is of Lamb herself, filled with determination.

You and Tenenbaum both stare at the screen in blank shock, before an alarm sounds and the screen shuts itself off. The Doctor is quick to respond, however, speaking even as she rushes over the controls of the ticket booth. "Lamb will tear this place apart looking for you. Please, hold back the splicers until we escape!"

Concerning the Plasmid she gave you, what do you do?
>Take it. It might be useful, though she never did tell you what it would do.
>Leave it. You don't need her help to do what needs to be done.

Regarding Tenenbaum herself, what do you do?
>Kill the incoming splicers. Make yourself a target and slaughter them all. It's not like they're all that much of a threat to you anyways.
>Leave Tenenbaum behind. Sorry Doctor, but you've got to look out for yourself, and the previous slaughter you caused left you a bit strung for supplies.

>>2270325
>Take it. It might be useful, though she never did tell you what it would do.
>Kill the incoming splicers. Make yourself a target and slaughter them all. It's not like they're all that much of a threat to you anyways.
If I remember correctly, this area SHOULD have a hackable camera nearby. If we hurry, we can go and hack it, and security bots will help with splicers.
Plus, we can hack the neutral security bots afterwards and get them to follow us.

>>2270328
Ah yes, I should have mentioned.

If you have a plan on how you want to run this defense, I might let it slide. I don't do modifiers, but since things are mostly narrative at this juncture I'm happy to slide the DCs around based on good thinking.

>>2270331
Camera hacking is a must, makes things a hell of a lot easier.
We could probably also pick up something like a trashcan and use it for slight mobile cover as we rush in to drill the fuck out of people. When it gets too shot up to offer any good protection, just chuck it at a splicer.
Use rivet guns and cover as necessary, after that.

>>2270325
Hack what we can, use cover, and spam lightning and rivets. If we have to take a few minor hits to put a splicer down for good do so.

>>2270325
>Leave it. You don't need her help to do what needs to be done.
>Kill the incoming splicers. Make yourself a target and slaughter them all. It's not like they're all that much of a threat to you anyways.
In addition to what other anons are saying I think we should try and set up the terrain in the area as a sort of funnel. Splicers are idiots, so they'll probably take the path of least resistance. If we make that path narrow then it seriously reduces their numbers advantage.

>>2270328
>>2270364
Alright, we've got two votes that are competitive.

Can we get a tie breaker from the audience?

>>2270325
>Take it. It might be useful, though she never did tell you what it would do.
>Kill the incoming splicers. Make yourself a target and slaughter them all. It's not like they're all that much of a threat to you anyways.

>>2270421
Closing before we get another tie.

Actually, can I get three rolls of 2d100? The first is a roll to prepare (succeeding on hacking, how much of a funnel you can make, etc) while the other is the actual combat.

Rolled 59, 76 = 135 (2d100)

>>2270430

Rolled 70, 17 = 87 (2d100)

>>2270430

Rolled 14, 49 = 63 (2d100)

>>2270430

>>2270437
>>2270456
>>2270460
No critfails, solid prep, and slightly better execution. Writing.

File: delta.jpg (700 KB, 1024x768)

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>>2270467
>>2270426
There really isn't much time to debate this. You grab the Hypo and shove it in your arm, not willing to risk losing whatever Tenenbaum gave you. There's another burning sensation in your arm...but you shrug it off, instead focusing on your preparations.

A hand holds the Remote Hack tool, firing a dart into the nearby camera, and you fiddle it onto your side even as you work out just how you're going to handle things. The first order of business, once you set the light to a nice, green glow, is to sabotage that med station on the far side of the terminal.

Thinking about it, though, this is actually a pretty good location. On your way over, you grip a pair of the benches, only taking a slight grunt to forcibly rip them out of place. A stab to either side and some beating with the drill, and you've got some cover and a fallback near a hacked Med-station. You'll have to remove it before you start the tram, but it's worth it.

That done, you pepper the area with the few Trap Rivets you'd found lying around, then grab a fallen sign to use as a shield.

You don't have to wait long, after this. Even as you're forcing the sign into a more shield-like shape, the camera starts ringing moments before the alarm goes off.

Perfect.

Even as the security bots swarm out to fill the idiot splicers with holes, you raise your shield to deflect their shots, even as you charge into the mass of genetically modified numbskulls.

That's not a derogatory term, it's probably quite literal in a few cases.

The resultant fight paints the tram station white and red with the blood, bone, and tumors of those who would kill you in the name of The Family. What a load of nonsense, you muse as you decapitate a gunman with a swing of your shield. Sofia preaches that all must be done for the common good, thus if 499 people must die to save 501, that's perfectly acceptable and okay. Even if the 499 contain the most successful and capable individuals, those who are capable of great things if they have others supporting them.

Sofia preaches to the masses, the paupers and the invalids. Parasites who want their share with as little effort as possible, as Andrew Ryan would say. Before becoming a Big Daddy, you'd believed in him and his message. That industry and a Darwinian approach to economy could pave the way to an ideal society.

The reality was harsh, as it often is. Those with money tend to make more, they dictate and change the rules in accordance to their funds. Those without money will be kept where they are, so that the Haves needn't share with the Have-Nots.

It was still a pretty decent place to live if you were one of the Haves, but the Have-Nots, the Splicers of Lamb's family, seemed to disagree.

You were pulled from your musings as you suddenly realized the corpse you were turning into Discount Burger was already dead. As were all his fellows. You also have a few new holes in you, and your shield is a bullet-ridden mess.

Whoops.

File: Augustussinclair.jpg (134 KB, 772x1034)

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>>2270532
A few dollars, a quick heal-up, and you take a moment to consider where to go next. Luckily, Tenenbaum's there to simplify things.

"Thank you," she says through the radio, "Now, I must leave you, and I am sorry for this." Wait, what? "But there are others I must help before the city drowns. This man, Sinclair...he is an ally." You do not like that hesitation. "and will lead you to Eleanor." Opinion raised. "Goodbye, Herr Delta...and good luck."

Well, that happen-"Well look at you," comes a suave, businesslike voice over the radio, making you jump a bit. Luckily, as you were pulling the benches out of where you'd wedged them, it seemed wholly intentional. "A bona fide knight in armor, complete with iron horse. The name's Augustus Sinclair, sport. Esquire." You feel slimy just from talking to this man, but that might be the ruptured intestinal tumor on your shoulder from where you shoulder charged a splicer into the central support.

>How do you greet the Sinclair?

>>2270546
Subject Delta, Once Johnny Topside. How can you help me?

>>2270546
What >>2270555 said and also we should ask if he has any reason we should trust him beyond Tenebaum's word.

>>2270546
>>2270555
This

Also, as a recommendation: Get a twitter.
A lot of anons and QM's use twitter to get updates/send updates on when the thread is starting up.
Helps to get players in faster, and keep people informed of runtimes.

>>2270606
I would, but I'm someone who has run some failed quests before and I'm fearful of backlash.

>>2270625
You could always make a new twitter.

>>2270644
...but I'm laaaaaazzzzzzyyyyyyyyyyyy

>>2270657
Make a twitter, reeeee

>>2270666
ugh https://twitter.com/SilverQM

>>2270676
Horizon or hellsing quest wen?

>>2270684
god dammit

>>2270687
lel
Seriously though, I don't care about the failed quests at all. I just want to see this one through, it has a lot of potential and it's going well so far.

>>2270696
Right. Well, it might have to pause for a bit this week. I've got a test on Thursday and I need to sort out a flute for lessons tomorrow. I also have someone to go pick up, so I'll write out the post tomorrow morning.

>>2270705
Shouldn't be a problem, I know plenty of quests that only run once a week.

Sinclair solutions Sinclair? Surprised your still kicking.

>>2270546
>>2270555
"Subject Delta." Wow, two words in a single breath. You're getting better at this. Let's go for three. "Once Johnny Topside." Oh shit, there's three. You take a deep breath, ready to go even further beyond! "How can you...help me?"

OH YEAH BABY! Speech functions are back! If...a bit strained. Still, as long as you aren't giving out some long pep talk, you should be fine.

The line is quiet for a few moments, before Sinclair starts talking. "Well shoot, son. A talkin' Daddy. I woulda nevah guessed." He's got a distinct Southern drawl, it's actually quite pleasant to listen to. "Now, lemme ask ya something that I need ta know if we're gonna be in business, you still feelin' them chest pains?"

Chest pains? ...sometimes. There's a constant buzzing in your chest, and it's annoying but it's not like it HURTS...

But you know what he's referring to. Those muscles that should be clamping down around your heart, squeezing it slowly until it pops. They aren't functioning correctly. Oh sure, they'll have a faint twitch whenever something REALLY pisses you off, but it's just not connecting to that buzzing you have the way it's supposed to.

But if you tell Sinclair that you don't actually need Eleanor...he might try and convince you not to take that path. He might try and get you to leave her behind.

He might even take action to that effect.

Do you tell him?
>Yes. All relationships are formed on trust. Starting with a lie is not a good sign.
>No. It is an advantage. You can't risk anything getting between you and Eleanor.


Sorry about the delay, folks

>>2272114
>Yes. But stress that it's only for now. This oddity might fix itself later. It could just be delayed, for all we know.

Which isn't a lie either, from Delta's perspective. He knows he SHOULD be having it. But he doesn't know that whatever is preventing it won't fail to stop it later on. For all Delta knows, it could kick in and start doing its job in three seconds, or three years, or never. It's an unknown factor to him.

>>2272122
This.

>>2272114
>Yes. All relationships are formed on trust. Starting with a lie is not a good sign.

>>2272122
I'll back this

>>2272114
>Yes. All relationships are formed on trust. Starting with a lie is not a good sign.

Frankly I don't think we can trust him worth a damn, but benefit of the doubt and all that. Plus Tenenbaum seems to have some degree of faith in him. Let's just hope he doesn't use Eleanor as leverage against us.

I'm trying to get an update out, but it's just not working. I'm gonna give it a bit and see what happens.

>>2275462
Writer's block? Need some ideas?

>>2275480
The first one. I know where I'm going, I'm just not sure how to get there.

>>2272122
>>2272124
>>2272183
Honestly, you don't want to start off lying to someone whom you're supposed to trust yourself. And if he'd just stand between you and Eleanor...well, he wouldn't be the first to try.

"I am not." You say, the string of words slightly easier. Honestly, once you started working your jaw, the cramp that kept it shut was already fading. "For now," you add. After all, you could start seizing up any moment. Maybe they're simply suppressed, waiting for some trigger before your own body starts trying to kill itself again. Maybe you are dying, and just don't know it. Maybe you'll live forever.

"Huh," Sinclair eloquently replies as he considers this, though he likely reaches the same conclusion you do. "Well, I suppose it won't change much. Ya still gotta get yaself close ta Eleanor, if'n you wanna make it outta here in one piece. And that means gettin' inside the Fontaine buildin'. Come meet me in Ryan Amusements, we can make our way forward from there."

That simple, huh? He's clearly got his own reasons for helping you, even if he won't tell them quite yet. For now, though, you need to figure out what to do. This old Atlantic Express cart will take you straight to Ryan Amusements, but if you remember correctly, you could also go through Apollo Square to get there on foot. It'd be some effort to clear out the tunnel blockade, and probably take longer, but the option's there.

Or you could look around, stock up on supplies here. Something in the area is setting your buzzing off, and you don't know what.

>Take the cart to Ryan Amusements.
>Lamb will expect that. Go through the tunnel instead.

Concerning looting
>Leave immediately. Every second counts when Eleanor is on the line.
>Look around. You are curious about that buzzing feeling.

>>2277223
>>Look around. You are curious about that buzzing feeling.
>Lamb will expect that. Go through the tunnel instead.

Right, I'll bow out for a half hour and see what the vote looks like then.

If it stays dead, I'll probably leave the updates for tomorrow.

>>2277223
>Lamb will expect that. Go through the tunnel instead.
>Look around. You are curious about that buzzing feeling.

>>2277223
>Lamb will expect that. Go through the tunnel instead.
>Look around. You are curious about that buzzing feeling.
I'm curious...I wonder if we should ask Sinclair what happened in the past 10 years, too. If his answer differs from Tenenbaum's, it could tell us more - either more of the events that took place, or more about what Tenenbaum and Sinclair's personalities are like based on what they say and focus on. Of course, they might just end up saying the same stuff. But still, could be worth trying to get a better read on them and/or the situation.

>Lamb will expect that. Go through the tunnel instead.
>Look around. You are curious about that buzzing feeling.

>>2277223
>Lamb will expect that. Go through the tunnel instead.
>Look around. You are curious about that buzzing feeling.

>>2277552
Actually, yeah. While I'm working on the morning update, someone vote yae or nae on whether to ask Sinclair about the past.

File: Telekinesis.png (1.42 MB, 1440x900)

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>>2277309
>>2277508
>>2277634
>>2277921
"No," you decide almost immediately.

Sinclair is already confused, "What do ya mean 'No?'" but you understand.

If you stay on the rail cars, Lamb will be able to guess your route from start to finish, and fill it with all manner of obstacles. The last thing you want when facing a numerically superior opponent is to give them a chance to focus their strength. Something Lamb absolutely will do.

The buzzing pulses for a brief moment, making you pause, but then you get back to moving.

"Express linear. Obvious. Easy to ambush. Move on foot, use maintenance. Going through Apollo Square."

An entire string of statements, all coming together in a single, cohesive argument. This is progress. Sinclair even manages to get your point. "And by doin' so, get access to them tunnels made fuh lettin' Big Daddies through without them gettin' jumped, I getcha."

Your jaw is starting to feel the strain of so many words, so you simply grunt your affirmation at him as you look around. Something here is making your buzz-o-meter go off, and you aren't leaving until you figure out what.

Not that it takes that long.

Inside what must be some sort of pneumo hub, you find a red wagon with a gift. A red Plasmid bottle with a bow on it, nestled in pink pillows next to a jar of luminescent bugs of some sort. On the ground, scribbled in several colors of chalk, are the words 'Come Soon to Come Find Me' next to a giant, yellow sun and a small pile of the chalk that must have been used to make this tapestry.

The buzzing grows to a roar, and soon blocks out everything.

a flash of blue eyes

father...

its me, eleanor

i know you're awake

i can feel it

mother won't be able to toy with you like that

ever again

this plasmid is for you

if im right, you can use it now

please, find me

the blue eyes turn and flee

the face is oh so familiar, but more mature

...well, that was an experience.

>Take the plasmid
>Don't bother.

Then
>Look for more loot. (Bo3 rolls of 2d100)
>Leave.

Rolled 30, 20 = 50 (2d100)

>>2278353
>Take the plasmid
>Look for more loot. (Bo3 rolls of 2d100)

File: two hours later.png (1.21 MB, 1064x800)

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Yeah, that's about how I expected it to go...

rip

Rolled 96, 79 = 175 (2d100)

>>2278353
>Take the plasmid
>Look for more loot. (Bo3 rolls of 2d100)

Sorry, I just awoke!

Rolled 33, 50 = 83 (2d100)

>>2278353
>>Take the plasmid
>Look for more loot. (Bo3 rolls of 2d100)

>>2278353
>>>Take the plasmid
>>Look for more loot. (Bo3 rolls of 2d100)
Rolls already done though

>>2278399
>>2278605
>>2278716
>>2279082
ugh, fine. Peasants.

File: happymerchant.png (11 KB, 110x128)

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>>2279141

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157 KB JPG

>>2279141
Seeing no reason to deny a gift from Eleanor, you fill up a hypo with the red fluid from the bottle, then jam it into your arm.

The results are...less intense than before, to say the least. Rather than the rage of a thousand storms coursing through you, you feel...open. An awareness settles around you, as though you were touching everything nearby. This plasmid is...different from the standard telekinesis.

It feels like you're touching everything, in a detached sort of way. Which is what lets you casually swing your drill and dash the brains of the thug creeping up behind you against the wall without looking or even hearing him.

This is gonna be USEFUL...

That done, you decide to get to work looting everything that could potentially be useful. Most of it is basic, some extra drill fuel or more rivets, a few medical hypos, some extra Eve, but what really stands out is a rather fine piece of jewelry, sitting on the ground in front of the door you're clearing out, so you can take the tunnel walkway.

>pic related

Huh. Maybe Eleanor will like it.


With that settled, you get to walking. The path to Apollo Square isn't all too long, really. About half an hour and you're at the airlock. The question is; how do you get through it? What is your plan for Apollo square, which you know nothing about?

>Rush through, drill revving and rivets flying. All shall know you and despair.
>Take it easy, take it slow. Avoid fighting where possible, just move on to Ryan Amusements.
>Try talking, maybe? It is an option now, after all.

>>2279198
>Rush through, drill revving and rivets flying. All shall know you and despair.
gotta make up time, Elanor said come quick!

>>2279198
>Try talking, maybe? It is an option now, after all.
I wonder if we'll encounter any other Big Daddies on our way through. Be nice to see if we could wrangle one up as a companion, even if just for a little while.
At any rate, a part of me feels like we should conserve some resources. I have a weird feeling about this route...

>>2279198
>Tell them to move and keep walking, if they do not rend them to bits.

>>2279254
I'm willing to do this, for splicers at least. Fuck splicers. Bunch of crackheads.

>>2279198
>Tell them to move and keep walking, if they do not rend them to bits.

>>2279223
>>2279238
>>2279254
>>2279341
>>2279668
Apologies.

I got sucked into the Burial At Sea DLC. I'll be finishing this now.

>>2280008
You open the door to find a trio of splicers, huddled around a fire and surrounded by ice. Were it not for their plasmids, they likely would have frozen by now. This place musta been cleaned out of ADAM at some point. No ADAM means no Little Sisters. No Little Sisters means no Big Daddies.

No Big Daddies means no repairs.

You can remember, halfways, what this place looked like in its hay day. Mahogany and brass, gold and Marble. Sometimes concrete; this place wasn't exactly upper class. You even remember you had a room here...

Back to the three splicers, they turn on you, baring...half a rusted pipe, a pair of fists wrapped in cloth, and a broken necklace with a razor blade glued on the end.

Against a Big Daddy.

...they should know how this goes. "Move," you growl out. "Or be moved."

They pause, seemingly in shock at your words, but... "L-L-L-Lamb s-said y-you...you w-were an enem-mum-my." Dear lord, the razor-necklace wielding one can barely speak for how cold he is. Don't any of them have Winter's Grasp? Or hell, some of that knock-off Old Man Winter Ryan was putting out towards the end?

These aren't even adults. They're just kids, likely weren't old enough to remember coming down to Rapture. Now they're old enough to stand with adults, they're spliced up to the gills looking for a fix, and they 'Dealer' has aimed them at you.

They can't be much older than Eleanor...

What do you do?
>Brush them aside like the leaves in the wind they are.
>Subdue them, but make an effort NOT to kill or even permanently injure them.
>Try, one more time, to get them to stand down.

>>2280065
>>Try, one more time, to get them to stand down.
"Lamb. Lies."

>>2280065
>Subdue them, but make an effort NOT to kill or even permanently injure them.

>>2280065
>Try, one more time, to get them to stand down.
"Think for yourself. You won't win. Not even close."

>>2280079
Goin with this. WRITAN

>>2280180
You...don't want to kill them. They're just kids. Addicts, yeah, splicers and junkies lookin for a fix. But...they're just kids. They're weak. They're small. They're poorly armed, and even worse trained. They aren't a threat to you.

You consider what to say for a few moments, to make them stand down. But then one of them, the one with the pipe, lunges at you. His leg muscles must have been enhanced to cross this distance, but as his pipe swings down your extra telekinetic sense is already tracking it. The pipe, or rather the hand holding it, stops a few inches from your head. You don't even move to flinch.

No, instead, you lean forwards, bringing your face close to the panicking, almost tearful look in the...you think this used to be a boy...the boy's eyes.

"Lamb. Lies." The words are growled out, quiet, but not soft. Loud enough for the others to hear.

You reach up, pluck the pipe from the boy's hand, then drop him to the frozen tiles beneath you. Stepping around him, a flick of your wrist sends the rusty pipe embedding itself in a patch of ice covering the wall to your left. You don't even look at the other kids as you walk by, and they don't attack you.

It's a quiet walk out of Apollo square, right up until you're in the tunnel and Sinclair's voice crackles in over the radio. "Well shoot, son. I'da thought those kids were gonahs. You know they're just gonna tell Lamb all 'boutcha, right?"

What do you say in response?
>Write-in

Anything else you want to talk about on the walk over to Ryan Amusements?
>Write-in
>No. Maintain radio silence.

>>2280210
>"They might."
Ask Sinclair about the rest of the Alpha series, any more alive? It's something I can see Delta wondering. Even if I already know what happened to them.

>>2280210
"Lamb will.. know me... personally... soon"

>>2280210
>"Not their fault."

As for what to talk about.
>Lamb's goals.
>How Sinclair knows her.
>What Sinclair knows about her.
But most importantly
>What Sinclair knows about Eleanor.

>>2280229
>>2280240
>>2280243
Writang

>>2280210
Im better than her.

>>2280374
"Lamb will know me...PERSONALLY. Soon..." That shuts him up for a bit.

It's a pretty decent walk, going from Apollo Square to Ryan Amusements. Not the longest by any means; there's tunnels that go all the way down to where the Fontaine building got sunk. But it's still a solid half-hour trek, with its own ventilation systems and pneumo-track added on. You can see a couple of leaks, and purely out of habit pop some rivets in to clear them up. Not enough to hamper you, maybe a clip's worth. But enough that you won't drown while actually in the tube.

Eventually, though, the sounds get to you. The noise of the ocean. The unsteady creak of metal. Your own footfalls, not exactly quiet themselves. You decide to fill it with useful noise.

"What do you know...about Lamb?"

Sinclair's response is fairly quick; apparently he's even more restless than you. "Well, son, I can tell ya she only showed up after Ryan and Fontaine kicked it for good. Suchong, dead, Langstrom, dead, Ryan and Fontaine, dead, really the only ones still around from the old group are Tenenbaum, and Lamb. And neither-a them particularly care about the things this city was made for."

You know these ideals well, having worked for Ryan before. The idea that a man must reap what he sow. That a man might work, earn his keep, and keep it to do with as he please. If people are willing to buy, it's perfectly legal to sell. A capitalistic wonderland, that was what Ryan built.

"Nowadays, though, they just bicker. Tenenbaum don't actually care all that much about Lamb is doing. She's more concerned about the Chilluns. The Little Sisters, and all she's done to them. A crisis a Conscience, you understand." Fascinating. Not what you asked for, but fascinating.

"Lamb, though..." He hesitates here, as though whatever he says will make him any MORE of a target for her. "Lamb's all about the numbers. The masses, the majority. She'll torture a thousand people if it means a million can live in peace. More likely, though, she'll throw a bunch'a miserable splicers at you an' let those that can think live someplace outta the way. She's turned her family into a cult, with ADAM as the prayer. And let me tell ya, son, she knows how ta work a crowd with her whole 'Mother' act."

...so she's spent the past ten years working on creating her own personal cult, with Little Sisters as Angels offering Salvation, Big Daddies as vengeful devils, herself as the prophet, and Eleanor...

"What about Eleanor?"

He hesitates here again, but this time says, "Now, I ain't a part of her cult, but from what I can put togethah...Eleanor's the promised land."

...what?

"What?"

"It's crazy, I know. But Eleanor's all anyone talks about. She's gonna be the Salvation, the peace, the place everyone goes to when they die. I think...I think Lamb intends to dump a buncha ADAM, ALL the ADAM in her and see what happens."

>>2280475
You know enough about ADAM to know it acts as a sort of...benign cancer. It destroys old cells, then replaces them with whatever follows the genetic code it's been given. The problem is that, do this enough times, and errors will pop up. There's never the same rush as the first time, and each pass needs more and more ADAM to account for errors in the code. Eventually, you can't get enough ADAM, and you end up with a disfigured, mutated superhuman who can barely think enough to remember that ADAM might give them a few precious hours of clarity.

And LAMB wants to dump a city's worth of the stuff in your Eleanor.

What is your reaction.
>Just a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID
>HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE
>Full circle into calm again.
>Write-in

>>2280481
>Just a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID

>>2280481
>>Just a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID

>>2280481
>Just a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID
Now I've lost it. I know I can kill.

>>2280481
>>Just a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID
Lamb will be riding the pain train when we get to her. Choo Choo bitch.

>>2280499
>>2280502
>>2280539
>>2280575
Your arm lashes out like it was launched from a cannon, your drill pierces the side of the tunnel, and you make it spin. The glass explodes inwards under the weight of the ocean, but you're already moving forwards, riding the wave like Noah riding the wrath of God Himself, surfing the ocean as it floods in the tunnel.

Inside of you, there is hate. RAGE. An unending flow of anger, burning like the fires of Hephaestus, all accompanied by a single roar that actually takes you back a few steps on your chatting ability. It echoes, a metallic warble that blends with the flowing water into a single, all-consuming ROAR.

Deep in the bowels of the Persephone facility, far below the judgement of God or Man, Lamb shudders in a spike of irrational fear.

A man and a woman, brother and sister though they'd not met 'till they'd forced the world to make it so, look to eachother as they realize that this time around might not be worth interfering with. Unfortunately, the Pendant already will have been.

Far above the waves of the city, a man named Jack feels more than hears a cry of righteous fury, of a man committed to a crusade of his own choosing with all his heart. He toasts this crusader with a glass of whiskey and a cigar in hand.

>>2280976
I will not lie, I'm entirely unfamiliar with that middle spoiler. Infinite, I would assume, due to the fact that I never touched it and know next to nothing on it.

>>2280993
I will say that Infinite is worth touching. Especially if you play it Blind. And disregard the science behind it (as you do with Rapture, ofc)

>>2280976
Wow.

We do not have PTSD, We are the trauma.

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>>2280976
I wonder what other things happened during this.

>Big daddies of both the conventional types and the alpha series tensed up in anger, their helmets flashing red momentarily. Woe to the splicers that dwelt nearby.
>Little sisters all over started whispering about Daddy being very mad. They knew someone was going to be punished soon.
>Sinclair swallowed nervously, speechless, and Tenenbaum broke out in a cold sweat

>>2281164
You burst through the tunnel to Ryan Amusements like battering ram, the drill in your hands tearing aside the silver of the door and, moments later, the ruby red of those behind it. There is no mercy in you, now. No remorse. No hesitation. In minutes, the entire damn building is reduced to a flaming pit, quenched moments later by sea rushing in to fill the holes in its domain. By the time you're done, there's nothing left in your wake but the ocean, tinted red with the blood of your enemies.

As Sinclair watches the carnage happen from the safety of his little hidey hole, seeing it all through the camera in Delta's helm, he thinks to himself, 'Maybe I shouldn'ta told him about Eleanor...'


Well, Ryan Amusements is dead. You apparently picked up the Incinerate plasmid along the way, as well as a .50 caliber HMG. Eleanor seems a bit...alarmed through the bond, though apparently it's mostly worry at you.

What now?
>Find Sinclair, keep moving.
>Take a few minutes to calm down. Like seriously, god damn yo.
>After rage, comes sadness. Ten years. Ten years where you couldn't keep Her safe. Ten years where you've failed.

>>2281927
>>After rage, comes sadness. Ten years. Ten years where you couldn't keep Her safe. Ten years where you've failed.
>>Take a few minutes to calm down. Like seriously, god damn yo.

>>2281927
>>After rage, comes sadness. Ten years. Ten years where you couldn't keep Her safe. Ten years where you've failed.

>>2281927
>After rage, comes sadness. Ten years. Ten years where you couldn't keep Her safe. Ten years where you've failed.

>>2281927
>>After rage, comes sadness. Ten years. Ten years where you couldn't keep Her safe. Ten years where you've failed.
>>Take a few minutes to calm down. Like seriously, god damn yo.

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>>2281989
>>2282107
>>2282145
>>2282262
As you drag yourself free of the only unbroken part of Ryan Amusements, forcing the door open and then closed behind you to prevent the tram station from flooding, you collapse to your knees.

Your anger has been spent. Your rage has been burnt. Your body, exhausted. But your spirit yet burns. It burns and it buzzes and it hurts but you stay alive regardless. Your chest clenches, a reflex from the muscle groups clamped around your heart, and your body heaves in response. And then again. And again. A pitiful whimper escapes you the fourth time.

Your eyes burn, so very dry...

For a time, time escapes you. You do not know when Sinclair finally approaches your kneeling, broken form, but you do notice when his hand lays itself on the fabric sewn into your back. You turn to face him.

...he looks so small.

"Hey there, sport," he says, a soft smile on his face. There's no pity or condescension now, not anymore than there ever has been. "You feelin' bettah now? Got it all out?"

Almost hesitantly, you give the man a nod. He nods back. "Alrighty, then. There's a Bathysphere station down yondah. We can take it ta the ol' Fishery, then ride the tram over ta the Fontaine buildin'."

You demurely accept this course of action, standing up again. The Machine Gun finds itself slotted easily next to the rivet gun in the holsters on your back, and you take your drill from where it magnetically locked onto your thigh.

Is there anything you want to try saying to Sinclair, now that he's here?
>Yes. Write-in
>No. You're barely on your feet as is. It's so hard to focus with all the buzzing...

>>2282461
>Yes. Ask him if he can hear the buzzing.

>>2282461
>What he wants from all this... ruin. Anyone can see that Rapture is dying, and you imagine as he was not dead sane man he saw it sooner than most.

>>2282461
>>2282470
This

>>2282470
>>2282461
For the record, you're quite aware that the buzzing is actually your bond with Eleanor.

>>2283332
Oh, whoops! I totally thought it was some weird other thing.
In that case, I'll change mine to asking about the rest of the Alpha series, like I tried before.

>>2282461
>>2283340
second

>>2282461
The twins know were coming... But do they know we know that?

>Alpha series it is.

>>2283340
>>2287296
>>2287558
Alpha Series it is. Writing.

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>>2288484
"Alpha Series." It's difficult to speak, but you feel you need to say something. Conversation, something happening right now that you are capable of focusing on. "What happened?"

Sinclair, for his part, only gives you a searching look as you walk, assessing you for a moment, before offering a shrug. "'Bout what you'd expect. That fit you had? Imagine feelin' that way all the time. Those that didn't just die like you was s'pposed to ended up breakin' down. Some went into a coma. Some tried ta kill everythin' around them. You ain't the first Big Daddy I seen cryin', Johnny." ...he used your name. "You are th' first ta stop, though."

The hallways are practically a blur as you two walk through, not a single one of Lamb's splicers showing up to ruin your conversation. More likely than not, your little display at the park put some fear into them; the idea that a single Pissed Off Daddy can ruin an entire building and kill everyone inside likely didn't sit well with them.


By the time Sinclair's done talking, you're already at the Bathysphere station. You walk inside, sit down on one of the benches with a heave that makes the entire capsule shake, and just try to rest.

It'll be about a 30 minute ride to the old Fontaine Fisheries. What do you do in this time?
>Just rest and relax. Fontaine seems capable enough of working the controls.
>There appears to be some booze here. You've heard of people who have some form of genetic modification that lets them drink without any ill health, but you don't have that. Not that it'll stop you.
>Talk some more. (Write-in topic)
>Tinker with your weapons. Some of the 'Supplies' you picked up were weapons from splicers you'd slaughtered.

Are you fuckers going to make me mix another drink before the first vote is even through?

>>2288519
>Tinker with your weapons. Some of the 'Supplies' you picked up were weapons from splicers you'd slaughtered.
Might as well offer Fontaine a gun, too. If we have one in his 'size', that is...

>>2288549
Well fuck everyone else, then.

Pick one and roll me 1d100. How this will work is every roll over 60 will unlock another upgrade on the weapon in question.
>Drill
>Machine Gun
>Rivet Gun

You'll be handing Sinclair a Tommy Gun, so don't worry about that.

Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>2288614
>Drill
Our greatest friend in these trying times, of course.

As for players, they'll filter in if they notice the updates. This thread is old, so it stopped going to front page when new posts are made. It's on page six right now. I suggest posting on twitter and/or QTG if you haven't yet.

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>2288614
For now, I'll keep on rolling to keep things moving along

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>2288614
jeeze my rolls suck, huh?

>>2288642
>>2288638
>>2288633
...out of pity, I'll give it a half hour for someone else to roll.

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2288657
BY TH POWER OF PITY!

>>2288663
AND THE GOOD LORD SAYETH

damn son. Anyone else wanna give it a go?

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2288614
>>2288667
i good rol

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>>2288663
>>2288673

I guess pity is pretty powerful

>>2288633
>>2288663
>>2288673
ALRIGHT FUCKERS, YOU'VE GOT TWO UPGRADES TO SLAP ONTO YOUR DRILL

>Increase the damage by adding some augers onto your drill. Will let you penetrate walls and enemies alike with increased ease.
>An improved fuel injection system can help you save on fuel in the long run. A very economic choice.
>Some quick modifications to the exhaust can muffle the noise your drill makes. While it won't make the grinding of bones/stone silent by any means, you won't let the entire block know where you are whenever you drill a bitch.

>>2288688
>Increase the damage by adding some augers onto your drill. Will let you penetrate walls and enemies alike with increased ease.
>An improved fuel injection system can help you save on fuel in the long run. A very economic choice.

>>2288688
>>Increase the damage by adding some augers onto your drill. Will let you penetrate walls and enemies alike with increased ease.
>>An improved fuel injection system can help you save on fuel in the long run. A very economic choice.

>>2288688
>An improved fuel injection system can help you save on fuel in the long run. A very economic choice.
>Increase the damage by adding some augers onto your drill. Will let you penetrate walls and enemies alike with increased ease.

>>2288696
>>2288705
>>2288708
Looks like we're going green. And red. Lots and lots of red.

>>2288729
The colors of Christmas.
Delta's got a few gifts for Lamb in mind.

>>2288729
"MERRY, CHRISTMAS, RAPTURE!"
"HO!HO!HO!"

>>2288729
As you sit in the Bathysphere, you slide a Tommy Gun with a pair of full clips over in Sinclair's direction. He raises a brow at them. "Well, that's nice'a ya, son, but I got my own gun." He pulls out a (damn fine looking) revolver with a barrel as long as your finger. And a drum that holds six shots, as opposed to the Tommy Gun's drum clips. "Vintage, too!"

While you can appreciate the power of a revolver like that, you leave the gun and its ammo where it is. He needs something more capable of assaulting a fortified position. While a gun like that might be great for self defense, it'd be shit at covering you in a pitched battle.

That done, you turn to the small pile of other guns you'd picked up, and start dismantling them alongside your drill. You actually come out fairly lucky, as an old Chemical Thrower was among the things you'd grabbed. The ignition mechanism and variable fluid injector fit nicely into your drill's own fuel system, letting you both regulate how much fuel you're using at any time and use less fuel in general.

The other fun find is a set of jury-rigged grenade launchers. Really, the only part of them worth salvaging is the loading mechanism, which appears to be some sort of mechanical arm. The gears for it turn out to be rather easily reshaped into augers for your drill, and the arms themselves make sure that it all feeds into the same drill system.

Seeing all that metal spin, and your newfound awareness of electricity, gives you some ideas for what you could do in the future now that you can actually sustain it...but that's for the future. You don't have enough usable parts to make it a possibility right now.

Sinclair, for his part, looks damned intrigued at watching you work, heating metal using lightning between your fingers so you can force it into shape easier. When you put your drill together again and give it a rev, he gives a whistle of appreciation. "We are gonna make SO much money when we get outta here, son."

You're almost at the Fisheries, now. What is your plan for it?
>Murder your way to the tram. Anything and everything between you and your destination dies.
>Try to go quietly. You don't HAVE to kill everyone and everything here.
>Attempt diplomacy. With Sinclair here to do the talking, and you standing menacingly behind him, it might actually work.

>>2288759
>Attempt diplomacy. Go quietly around Sinclair and murder everything between you and your destination.

>>2288774
I laughed. It's a horrible idea, but I still laughed.

>>2288759
>>Attempt diplomacy. With Sinclair here to do the talking, and you standing menacingly behind him, it might actually work.

>>2288781
>>2288759

this and tired i'm bed glhf

>>2288759
>Attempt diplomacy. With Sinclair here to do the talking, and you standing menacingly behind him, it might actually work.

>>2288781
>>2288809
Alrighty folks, looks like we've got a winner.

Three rolls of 1d100 to see how Sinclair does.

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>2288816

Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>2288816

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>2288816
b4 bed i sav rol

>>2288850
rol is sav

go 2 bed

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>2288857
You decide you're going to let Sinclair take the lead on this one. Honestly, you're getting rather sick of killing. As the bathysphere rises, up and the door swings open, there's only a small group of splicers outside, but they don't attack. Rather, they tremble in place, cocking their guns and aiming at you, but none seem willing to set you off.

They know it won't end well for them.

Sinclair takes his chance. "Now, boys and girls," he pauses for a moment as their attention, and aim, shifts to him, but he keeps moving, "I reckon you could do some hurt with them guns before mah friend here does somethin' mighty nasty in retuhn. But I also reckon neithah of us wants to be on th' othuh side o' that whole sequence of events. Why don' you jus' put down the guns an' step aside, and nobody has to get hurt."

Your left arm is crackling with lightning, and your right holds a gun that should probably be on an APC like it was a mere pistol. The blood of multiple battles had not been entirely washed off in the water, and your suit still had holes in it from when others tried and failed to kill you. Suffice to say, you made for a terrifying visage.

Hopefully it was enough. Truth was, you didn't want to kill these people. Deranged or not, broken or not, ready to kill you in turn or not, these were still people. Lamb was the one who deserved your wrath, not these indoctrinated idiots.

So when their weapons were lowered and they scattered into the myriad nooks and crannies that made up the dilapidated fisheries, you were rather relieved. Fewer people who had to die for no reason.

the buzzing pulsed

>Encounter roll to see how strolling through the Fishery goes, could be loot, could be a Big Sister (during an escort mission at that, wew)