tearmeanewone | un + action/voice

[Action]

“Booker? Booker?!”

Elizabeth could almost still smell the sulfur and fire, and feel the heat coming from Monument Island. It had felt, for a moment, like the world was being pressed and burned into her bones, swelling up against her ribcage and expelling itself in the form of a brilliant, blinding light that enveloped her, Booker, and Songbird. That was what she'd seen, she was almost certain of it.

But instead of her jailer and her strange fellow convict, Elizabeth was brought out of the sky and out of the clouds and light and into cool water. Not that she'd never ended up in water before, but it was very disorienting. She thrashed and doggy-paddled to the edge of the lake, realizing that if Booker had been anywhere nearby, he would have answered her.

The silence was lonely, and familiar. She didn't like it at all. Even the sounds of gunfire would have been welcome as opposed to the sound of her struggling to slosh out of the lake and onto the shore. Everything seemed to echo, even the drips coming off of the plain dress she had somehow ended up in. New place, new clothes, wings on her back... Elizabeth reached out awkwardly and touched them, drawing a hand back in dismay and shock when she realized she could feel her hand on her wing. Wings. She had wings now, when did that happen?

“It's okay, Elizabeth,” she said aloud, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to calm down and warm herself a little. “It's... probably not this wet in heaven.” She sniffled from the chill of being soaked head to foot, and took in her surroundings while trying not to wonder if she had in fact killed herself and Booker by opening that tear. It had led somewhere significant, somewhere foreign and different where madness was king. She had thought she'd seen a sea, but perhaps it was this lake. Perhaps she was in a different place where madness was king...

“Booker!” she called again, almost desperate. Biting back tears and a lump in her throat, she looked around the lake once more. She had lived alone for years. And in the first scrap of quiet she'd heard in a long time, she couldn't find comfort standing by herself.

Shivering, Elizabeth looked around for any movement and saw a patch of royal blue on the ground. Her dress, folded neatly with a thin book. Who did that...?

[Audio]

[The audio starts up, unexpectedly, but Elizabeth seems to know how this is supposed to work. It's like a Voxophone, right? Only it's somehow transmitted everywhere.]

Can anyone hear this? I don't know what day it is, or where I'm supposed to be. Booker? There's a, uh, lake here, and some trees. [She sighs, her voice wavering.] I'm freezing out here, and if you're running around sticking your head in trashcans I'm going to be really mad!

((Catch her walking through the forest or into the village! She has her journal open too, and will be 'Voxophoning' actively.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He just raise a brow at that entire statement. He was just making a joke about the infected people and then she had to go and say all of that. What was this woman's story? He crossed his his arms and looked at her with curiosity.]

What did you do to piss everyone off?

[Elizabeth gives a short, sardonic laugh.]

Existed, I guess?

[She shrugs again, uneasily.] I did escape from my home, but I was being watched without knowing it. I knew I was a prisoner, I just never knew I was a specimen until he got me out.

[Jake goes quiet, feeling a slight chill at some of the similarities he and Elizabeth shared. As if he wasn't bothered enough after learning about a guy named Booker. But really, he's been in that situation of being watched, people knowing who you were before you even tell them, and treated like some experiment. Not a good feeling. He looked away for a moment, speaking in a sarcastic tone.]

You're gonna love this place then. [He looked back to her, speaking in a more neutral tone.] Sorry for scaring you earlier. Unless you're going to go terminator on us, I don't think anyone stuck here are going to come after you.

If what I've read can be trusted, then I love it already. [She crosses her arms over her chest, clearly extremely uncomfortable with this line of conversation. Thankfully, they're shifting away from it.]

...Terminator? [Slow eyebrow raise...]

Robots. Sent to kill everyone? [...he just shakes his head and turns around with a handwave.]

You know what, let's just go find your things.

[Like Patriots?] Oh! Oh... No, I'm not going to do that. I'm not an automaton, first off.

[She follows after Jake, walking back along the path she ran over.] I know the journal's important, but I'd really like the dress though. This is getting a little clammy. [Elizabeth smiles weakly and pulls at her damp New Feather dress.]

[...Automaton.] You got some interesting names for stuff. Automaton, voxophone, where are you from?

[Jake is glancing at the ground ahead of them to notice what Elizabeth is doing.] Shouldn't have thrown it in the first place.

Columbia. It's not your typical place though, so I'm not surprised I use words nobody else does. It used to be a part of the United States, and then seceded.

[Elizabeth frowns and picks up her dress and journal.] I apologized, didn't I? You've never once been startled after being dropped into a strange place? [She puts a hand on her hip and gives Jake a disbelieving look.]

What, the capital got tired of hearing everyone complain? [He thinks this was some strange version of DC. Not like he paid much attention on world history. He gives her a back glance and shakes his head.]

Pissed off is more like it. [He'd be a terrible merc if he jumped that easily.]

Uh... Sort of, I guess. From what I understand, Columbia led an unauthorized military strike during the Boxer Rebellion. Then the capital told Columbia to stand down and so they just... seceded. [Elizabeth makes a face at the ground.] So I guess everyone was tired of hearing the capital complain, so they just took their toys and left.

[She rolls her eyes and looks through the clothes to find her jacket. Leaving the corset and skirts draped over a low branch, she slips it on.] I'm angry, sure. I don't really like being an experiment in a new, if bigger, prison. But I'm also not a walking battleship and lately people who look like you have made a sport out of grabbing me. [Elizabeth collects her clothes and journal and stands close to him, expectantly.] We can't all have absolutely no fear.