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 Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2009 3:49 pm
.:The Rapture Exhibit:.
It was a coup. Gustav Bainbridge ran a hand through his dark hair and didn't even bother to suppress the grin that stole across his features. His newest acquisition was huge. It was made to sit in a wall niche and he had managed to not only get the machine, but the lighted icons (broken, but repairable) that would hang over it.
Standing back, he looked at the display-that-would-be and chuckled. His collection of artifacts from the lost city of Rapture was small, but it was nevertheless bigger than anyone else's. And this - a Gatherer's Garden - well as we said before, it was a coup indeed. The vending machine was empty, of course. Research gave little evidence about how to use it, it's activation was unique to the citizens of that city. But being a thorough man, Gustav knew that it had once contained plasmid tonics among other things. He shuddered faintly - more aware than most that utopian societies were destined to fall. Thats part of what fascinated him about them. About all dead civilizations. Why hadn't they worked? Why indeed... information on Rapture was scarce. But the Gatherer's Garden display would be the crown jewel of the little Rapture exhibit. That, and one more thing.
He had an old jukebox, some ripped teddy bears and some furniture that would have been lovely had it not been exposed to seawater. Nevertheless, it would make a fantastic exhibit in one of the smaller rooms. The satisfaction of acquisition wasn't lessened by the fact that he hadn't found the artifacts himself. His grave-robbing days were over. After Lina had died... well, grief and loss and age changed people and Gustav had discovered he no longer really had the stomach for the sort of adventure he'd enjoyed with his wife. It was enough to hunt through books and web-pages, through the closed societies of people that were interested in similar artifacts. Enough to find the artifacts in other collections or in out of the way antique stores and to make them his own. Well, not really his own. The museum really owned it all, but Gustav nevertheless felt that they were his, too. He was the one that cared for the things, that found them and brought the memory of life back to them. What some saw as a forgotten, dusty chair became an ancient throne under his practiced and knowledgeable eye.
And there was only one more piece before the exhibit would be ready. Only one more thing he waited on, and then they could set everything up for display. The Rapture exhibit would not be a big one, nor would it draw many crowds. But these things didn't matter to someone like Gustav, who treasured all of his treasures, wether or not other people appreciated them or not. Ticket sales were the museum's business. He existed for moments such as these. Where he could gaze at a lost vending machine for hours, wondering about the hands that had touched it before.
He was known in the community, and he never hid from anyone the sort of things he searched for. Anyone, no matter how dull, could possibly harbor the sort of treasure that Gustav craved. He'd heard that one Doctor Crusoe had an "ADAM gatherer" in his collection. Though Crusoe's name and nature were unfamiliar to him, Gustav was aware of what ADAM was. Or at least, he was as aware as any other researcher. That the information available was spotty at best didn't bother him. That he couldn't find records of this Doctor bothered him a little, but not enough to abstain. He had immediately put an order in for the ADAM gatherer, which he had been told was nicknamed "Little Sister". Perhaps Gustav should have done more research on the subject. Or at least dug a little deeper into Crusoe's business. But he did not. And now he eagerly awaited the delivery of the final piece of the exhibit.
"Ah, Lina." He said softly, often inclined to talk to his dead wife as if she were there with him. "It's a beautiful thing, is it not? A beautiful display indeed."
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Posted: Thu Aug 20, 2009 2:36 pm
.:The Doll:.
It was waiting for him when he arrived at the warehouse on monday. Security said that the delivery had been made late saturday night - an unusual time for a delivery, but Gustav was accustomed to the eccentricities of many of the people he dealt with. No warning bells rang immediately in his head.
The crate had been put with the rest of the Rapture artifacts, it sat on the concrete floor in front of the wooden boxes that housed various and sundry items. Gustav had, in fact, been expecting another wooden crate. That was, after all, the usual means of transporting goods such as he purchased. No one in their right mind would send something valuable packed up in plain cardboard. So it was that when he saw the crate Crusoe had sent, the first tiny little alarm bell went off in the back of his mind.
It was metal. It was big, and rather dinged, and it was metal. It also appeared to be reinforced and there was a window. A barred window. A strong briny scent wafted from the thing, highly reminiscent of the seashore and dead fish. Gustav frowned. He walked around the crate slowly, cautiously, as if the artifact inside might be alive. Ridiculous. Further questioning of the security guards yielded nothing. The crate had been delivered, they had put it with the rest of the exhibit. And that was all she wrote. Nobody had tried to open it - they knew better. Gustav himself donned special gloves when handling any of his artifacts, at least until he was more sure of their material stability.
He returned to the crate and walked around it again. "This is ridiculous." The man muttered to himself, kneeling down and peering in through the little barred window. The fishy, briny odor was stronger. He saw nothing at first. And then, suddenly, a flash. Yellow-white, seeming to glow like the eyes of an animal that had been caught in someone's headlights. There, and then gone just as suddenly.
Muttering several curses under his breath, he pulled a flashlight from his pocket and shone it into the crate. This must be some grand joke, he decided. Inside the crate was what he could only assume was a doll. A lifesized doll. His mind raked over everything he knew of Rapture and he found himself rather unsuprised. They had been brilliant, and if they had nicknamed something "Little Sister" it made a disturbing sort of sense that they would build it to look like a little girl.
"Harrumph." The old man muttered, shining the light around and peering closer. "A doll." He would, of course, have to see if further research would help him find appropriate placement for it in the display. Rapture was not the biggest or most important project he was currently working on, and while he had spent significant time pouring over the few details available, he hadn't delved into the more archaic knowledge he sometimes had access to. "A doll." Gustav repeated, "and her dress is dirty too. Looks like..." He squinted. Could that really be blood? A shiver ran up his spine.
"Well, then, a nice glass box and we'll see how bad the water damage is." He'd been assured the artifact was in perfect condition and if it proved otherwise, once he got it out, that Doctor Crusoe fellow would be hearing from him.
Gustav gave another harrumphing noise, still peering into the little window. He couldn't determine what it was on the doll that had flashed like that. Until the doll turned her face towards him, pale and drawn. "Mister B?" Came a tremulous, tiny little voice.
Gustav Bainbridge, famed graverobber and historian, promptly fainted.
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Posted: Mon Oct 26, 2009 12:51 pm
.:Getting to know you:.
They'd had time to get to know each other. Gustav's initial shock at the discovery that Ariel was not a doll but a living, breathing, honest-to-god little girl had faded in the face of all the other little shocks she gave him every day. Gustav had never really wanted children. Or at least, he'd never really thought about them. His life with Lina had been full and rewarding and so busy that neither of them had considered the option. And Ariel was certainly not your typical little girl, although she acted like one more often than not. She was polite. She was sweet. She was biddable. She had that creepy blank stare that glowed in the dark and would spend hours staring at the stuffed bears and lynxes in the natural science portion of the warehouse. She loved the Egyptian mummies wrapped tightly and tucked away in the sarcophpgi. She called Gustav 'Mister B' or, on rare occasions, Bubbles.
Despite her odd mix of boringly typically normal and jaw-clenching weirdness, Gustav found himself growing rather fond of the child he christened Ariel. (She'd come from an underwater civilization, after all. And Lina had always adored the Little Mermaid cartoon.) The fondness, which was slowly and insidiously growing into something dangerously close to love, turned out to be a rather convenient thing. Ariel clung to him in a cheerful fashion, clearly claiming him as her own. She especially loved to ride on his broad shoulders and was slight enough that her weight didn't bother him.
"Mister B! Come an' look!" The clarion call of Ariel's voice summoned Gustav from the papers he'd been rifling through. Initially he'd been incensed and determined to take that lying, thieving Crusoe for all he was worth. But Ariel... well, he couldn't just give the poor girl back. She'd been living in a crate! And despite the fact that Gustav felt horribly cheated, especially since she remembered absolutely nothing prior to the crate (and therefore nothing about Rapture) he had grown oddly fond of her.
"What is it, then?" Rising to his feet, he went out to the little stone-cobbled courtyard where Ariel had been playing with sidewalk chalks.
"Look!" She was kneeling beside a dead pigeon while it's mate hopped and fluttered nearby making softly distressed noises. "It's an angel now."
Gustav frowned. "You shouldn't touch that. Pigeons carry disease." He said gruffly. "Leave it alone." Turning, he stalked back into the house and sat again at his desk.
Ariel watched her guardian go with a little sigh. "He doesn't understand, does he?" She said to the dead pigeon. "You miss your friend, don't you?" Holding her hand out, she imitated the living pigeon's soft cooing noises, tempting it closer. "C'mere now, it's okay."
The bird hopped forward, hesitantly. Quick as a flash, Ariel's chubby little hand shot out and grabbed the bird. "Hush now." She whispered to it. "Hush now. You miss your friend. It's okay, you can be an angel too." There was a soft, almost imperceptible cracking sound as the bird's neck broke. There was a long pause from the little girl as she stared at the dead bird in her hands.
It had been sad, it had missed it's friend. The sense that she had done what she was supposed to do was fleeing now, though. Ariel frowned. The bird had wanted to die, hadn't it? It had wanted to turn into an angel and go be with it's friend, right? She had thought so only a moment ago. The blood had been rushing in her ears and her heart had been pounding and she had just known that the bird wanted to be an angel.
Now, she wasn't so sure. Both birds were dead now and an ill feeling rose in the little gir's throat. Warring thoughts and feelings, senses of right and wrong. They were all clashing and she didn't like it. Ariel burst into tears.
At the sound of her sobs, Gustav came running yet again. "What? What is it?" He stared at the two dead birds on the cobblestones. Hadn't one of them been alive just a moment ago?
"It wanted to be an angel, mister B." Ariel hiccupped. "It wanted to be with it's friend. Didn't it?"
The old man stared at the little girl with dawning shock. "Did you..." He hesitated. "Did you kill the other bird, Ariel?"
Tears streaming down her face, she nodded.
"How come?"
"I...I dunno..." Ariel sniffed and looked at Gustav with empty yellow eyes. "It wanted to be an angel. I thought. I wanted it to be an angel." She sniffed again.
"Alright, alright. It's okay." He leaned down and lifted her up, cradling the little girl in his arms. "It's okay, Ariel. Hush now." For all his calming words, Gustav felt a cold wave wash over his body. What kind of little kid killed birds? Only the ones that grew up into sociopathic murderers. Did it have something to do with Rapture? All this talk of angels? Hugging Ariel close, Gustav brought her inside and poured her a mug of coffee. (He wasn't one of those people who thought children shouldn't drink caffeine.)
She sipped quietly, making a face at the bitterness until he added cream and sugar. "Thank you, mister B." Despite the caffeine, it wasn't long before Ariel drifted to sleep. Gustav sat and watched her dozing on the couch, an expression of concern etched across his features.
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Posted: Mon Oct 26, 2009 12:52 pm
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Posted: Mon Oct 26, 2009 2:44 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2009 3:34 pm
.:Regeneration:.
Ariel looked around her small room with a perplexed expression. It was a sweet room, there was no doubt about that. The hardwood floor had a little hooked rug and the bed was made with lace-trimmed sheets and an english rose comforter. It was definitely a girl's room. But there was something wrong with it, Ariel just couldn't figure out what it was.
Something had seemed sort of wrong ever since Mister B had let her out of that crate in the first place. She couldn't remember anything before the crate, she couldn't even remember how she'd gotten in there in the first place. But the memories of that harsh metal box were fading fast, perhaps gone to join the memories of her past that seemed insistent on eluding her. She just knew, something was off. The world tilted at the wrong angle. If only...
The small child shook her head. She was smarter than someone her age ought to be (though nobody could tell how old she was. Mister B's best guess was around five or six) and was told that she was clever and kind of pretty (her eyes made people nervous, though) and a polite, good girl. Being a good girl seemed like the right thing to be, Ariel mused to herself. Being a good girl made Mister B happy, and to her guardian the little girl felt wholly devoted.
She smiled a moment as she thought about him, and her frown returned. There it was again. That feeling. That feeling that something was wrong. And it was getting worse... that was the kicker. Some weird sense of impending doom was making a knot in her stomach. The little girl frowned, putting a hand over her small tummy and rubbing it. Maybe she should go and ask for a glass of warm milk. Yes, that would calm things down right away.
Suddenly, the world seemed to lurch. It was as if the floor had suddenly fell out from under her. The skin of her stomach bulged faintly against her palm. Theres something in there. Theres something in there and it wants to get out!
"Mister B!" The shriek could be heard through the entire townhouse. Ariel shouted for her guardian even as she clawed at her stomach in terror.
Gustav heard the panic in his young charge's voice and raced up the stairs two at a time, not even pausing to think of how he hadn't been able to do that since he'd gotten old.
"Ariel? Ariel, what is it?" He found her kneeling on the floor, her hands clutching her abdomen. She was bent over so far that her forehead nearly touched the ground and was keening softly to herself.
"It hurts." She moaned, and he noticed that there was blood on her fingertips, under her nails and streaking across her pretty dress.
"What hurts? Let me see." He reached for her, and she fell sideways into his arms, unconscious.
****
"I'm not sure I understand what you're saying, Doctor." Gustav ran a hand through his hair tiredly. Ariel was sleeping for the moment, the scratches she'd inflicted upon herself had been dressed. This was the third doctor he'd spoken with, and he was also waiting on e-mail replies from several others. Without knowledge of Ariel's history, without detailed information about Rapture, Gustav felt like he'd reached a dead end. "The mass in her stomach. You say it's living?" That wasn't possible.
"Yes." The voice over the phone responded, sounding troubled. She has a pre-existing scar, as if someone tried to remove the mass before. It appears to be a living organism. The biopsy result... well. I can't say I really believe it, myself."
"What did the biopsy say?" Gustav felt like throwing the phone across the room and screaming at the top of his lungs.
"It appears that the mass seems to be some sort of sea-slug."
"Sea slug?" Why, oh, why did this sound so familiar?
"Yes. It appears that there was some sort of initial operation which involved the removal of the creature, but that it was incomplete. Over time, the remaining piece was able to start regenerating." There was a long pause. "Mister Bainbridge, this is really outside of my scope of expertise."
"Yes, of course." Gustav wasn't listening. He was trying to remember something. "Thank you, Doctor." Hanging up without another word, the old man cast a worried glance at the little girl who now appeared to be sleeping peacefully. He knew the answer to this riddle. He had all the pieces at his disposal and he only had to figure out how to piece them together.
"Don't worry." He said to the sleeping child. "I'll figure it out. I promise."
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Posted: Thu Dec 10, 2009 1:53 pm
.:Special Things:.
"I really don't mind it, Mister B." Ariel said cheerfully, smiling up at her guardian. She was looking much better, with a little flush of color back in her pale cheeks.
Gustav looked down at the little girl, all bundled against the cold in a new coat. He liked the coat (his secretary had picked it out, though). It was appropriate, falling to her knees like a dress in a soft ivory white with fake-fur trim and little white buttons. He worried about her, though. They had found a solution to her little slug problem, but it hadn't been... ideal. "You're sure it doesn't bother you?" He asked her as they turned the corner, shoes crunching in the snow.
"Why would it bother me?"
"Most little girls don't have to drink blood."
Ariel smiled, turning her strange glowing eyes on Gustav. "It's not just blood, Mister B. It's angel blood. You know that."
He was still perplexed at her continuing referral to "angels". It didn't make a great deal of sense. But the fact that with a lot of effort and a whole lot of money he'd managed to find someone who could produce blood fortified with something similar enough to ADAM to do the trick made him happy. The fact that Ariel didn't mind that she had to drink a small amount of the blood each day worried him, though. Little girls shouldn't enjoy something so disturbing. At least, Gustav didn't think they should.
"And anyways," Ariel continued blithely, tugging on her scarf, "blood doesn't taste that bad when you get used to it." She gave him a little smile. "And I can do special things now."
Gustav missed a step. "Special things?" He frowned.
Ariel nodded and pointed towards a newspaper box that stood on the corner. "See?" The hinged door swung open, though nobody had inserted the obligitory dollar or been there to open it.
"You did that?" Gustav blinked.
"Of course I did, silly!" Ariel beamed at him and the hat on his head started spinning around.
Gustav gave a suprised shout and clamped the hat to his head to stop it spinning. She could move things? By thinking it? Instances of telekinesis were rare... he wasn't sure he was familiar with such a phenomenon having occurred in Rapture...
"Mister B?" Ariel's voice broke through his thoughts, thin and worried. "Are you mad at me? You started looking all far-away."
"No, sweetheart." He leaned down and picked her up, setting her suprisingly light frame on his shoulder. "I'm not mad. Just surpised is all." He grinned. "It's not everyday someone shows you a trick like that!"
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 2:54 pm
.:Jolly Holiday:.
"Oh, Mister B, are we there yet?" Ariel asked, peering out the tinted car window eagerly. She couldn't see anything beyond shop fronts with dingy windows and the occasional stray dog. This was not exactly a pleasure outing. Of course, Ariel didn't really know that. Or if she did, she didn't care. Luminous eyes shone with excitement - any new place would do. Almost anything could constitute an adventure.
"Yes, yes, we're nearly there." Gustav watched the girl and wondered grimly if bringing her along today had been a wise idea or not. Though it was a shady part of town there was no real danger, not even to a little girl as unusual as Ariel. Gustav was respected in all sorts of circles, and the black market was much less sinister than the novels would have one believe.
The town car pulled in front of a waterfront warehouse and slowed to a stop. Corrugated tin covered the building, it's green paint peeling and flecked with rust. Gustav stepped out of the car and took a deep breath of the moist, salty air before helping Ariel out of the car. She grinned brightly at him and then instinctively turned her head towards the sea, nostrils flaring slightly as she tasted the briny air.
"Oh! Mister B! Is that the ocean? Can I go and look at it?" She fairly wriggled out of her shoes she was so excited.
"Sure, sure." There wasn't much trouble she could get in, after all. "Stay up on the dock, sweetie. And be careful not to fall in the water." Gustav smiled indulgently as his young charge bounded off through the light fog towards the dock. He remembered his own fascination with the sea when he was young. Probably part of what had spurred him towards exploring the world when he got older. Letting out a faint, wistful sigh Gustav headed into the warehouse to conduct his business.
Ariel skidded to a stop on the wet, slightly slimy wood of the dock. She was a little out of breath but that hardly mattered. What did matter was making sure that her shoes hadn't gotten too dirty. Gustav did not appreciate it when she got herself or her clothes mussed up and Ariel liked to please Mister B. He was the one who took care of her, after all. The one who kept her safe. Since he did so much for her it only made sense that she do things for him too. Like keep her clothes nice, for one. And make her bed for another. Luckily, her shoes were as clean as could be expected. Ariel smiled, the glow of her strange eyes seeming to brighten as she turned to look out over the water.
There was a light fog that had settled over the waterfront, but as the sun grew brighter it began to dissipate and the little girl found herself gazing over the channel and all the way out to the vast, vast ocean. She caught her breath at the myriad of sparkles leaping on the water.
"So pretty..." Ariel whispered, feeling something tight squeezing her heart. She kind of knew the story of how she had come to live with Gustav. She knew that she came from a place that was under the water, but she couldn't remember anything about it. She couldn't remember anything before the crate, actually. She didn't even know why there had been blood on her dress. The crate. The thought didn't paralyze her with fear or even cause any real distress. All she could think about was the smell. How the crate's metal walls had smelled dark and fishy and salty, just like the waterfront. Something stirred inside the girl, she leaned over the railing to peer into the dark water below the dock.
There was a flicker, no more, but it had caught her attention. "Whats down there, I wonder?" She asked herself. Pale eyes narrowed and the water seemed to part. Ariel beamed when her little trick worked and peered down to see what had been revealed. But it was nothing. Whatever had been flashing in the water had escaped beyond her gaze. But the parting of the water stirred something else. A distand memory of softly domed buildings and crackling music like the music Mister B sometimes played on the record machine.
Ariel frowned slightly. Where were those buildings? It must be the place she was from, the underwater place. "Somewhere... beyond the sea... she's there watching for me..." The fraction of song came out of Ariel's mouth distractedly as her frown deepened slightly. Then, all of a sudden, her concentration was broken by a voice calling her name.
"Ariel! Honey, c'mon. Mister Leopold has invited us to stay for tea. Time to come inside now."
The little girl brushed down her dress and schooled her face into a smile. Nothing but smiles would do for Mister B, after all. He deserved all the smiles in the world. But somewhere, tugging around her soul, were the strains of a remembered tune.
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Posted: Sat May 15, 2010 9:42 pm
.:Angel Hunting:.
"Somewhere beyond the sea, somewhere waitin' for me, my lover stands on golden sands..." The high childish voice sang out almost casually. The same song she always seemed to sing, over and over and over. In a darkened back corner of museum storage, Ariel crouched over something that wriggled helplessly.
"...and watches the ships that go sailing..." The wriggling stopped abruptly and the little girl held the thing in her hands, humming softly to herself as she inspected what appeared to be a large and now dead brown rat. "Somewhere beyond the sea, she's there watchin' for me..." A chubby little finger poked the rat in the belly gently, curiously. Pupiless eyes glowed brighter as a clumsily wielded pocketknife slit the animal's belly open.
Nothing. She could have sworn it was an angel. She's seen something glowing it's belly, she knew she had. "It's far beyond the star, it's near beyond the moon" Ariel shook her head a little in irritation. She didn't really know what an angel was, just that the word danced through her mind and carried with it a compulsory feeling. And that sometimes when she saw people or animals, the word danced to the forefront and the compulsion got stronger. But there was never anything inside. She knew there should be something there, but there never was. The small girl frowned and shook her head. Something was wrong... there should have been something inside, she just knew it.
"I know without a doubt my heart will lead me there soon..." Not missing a beat, she reached into the little shoebox that was next to her and removed the next rat. This one wriggled faintly as well, not fully dead from the trap it had wandered into. Almost mindlessly, she snapped it's neck. She was sure this one was a real angel. This one would have something inside it...
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