tearmeanewone | deux + voice/action

Entry tags:

deux + voice/action

[Voice]

I've-- Oh, wait. Hello Luceti! [Right, she can't just start talking like you do with Voxophones.]

I've recently, this past New Feather cycle, brought two more people into my apartment. Up until now I haven't been... cooking, exactly. [She's been eating whatever she can get ready-made, namely.] Does anyone have any... somewhat simple cooking recipes for two adult men and one slightly smaller girl?

And can someone explain to me how to work the oven...?

[Action]

[Later in the day, Elizabeth ventures out to the grocery store to pick up things for her first cooking adventure! Though it's a trial, even at the store. Elizabeth keeps looking between different things and consulting her journal and looking back at the shelves... and frowning. Because this is all extremely complicated. No wonder this was done for her every day... This would probably take her weeks to figure out.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The journal is, to some extent, background noise. He keeps it open and listens to whatever he can while he works in the corner of the apartment that he's claimed for a desk. Notes -- both about Luceti and what he can remember of the Lutece Field and all of that work -- are spread out in a very ordered chaos.

So when he hears Elizabeth, he stops in his work. Not from the journal itself, no, but from inside the apartment.

He waits until she's finished before he speaks. ...Trying to ignore that she's reminded him he hasn't eaten today, which provokes the hunger that had come and gone some hours earlier.]

You don't need to worry about making food for us, Elizabeth. Couldn't you just hire a domestic? I'm sure the three of us could afford it.

[...After all, the Luteces were wealthy enough in Columbia to afford a pair of maids. One for the kitchen and one for basic cleaning.]

[Elizabeth looks up from putting her journal into a bag and gives Robert a brief smile.]

You mean a maid? Mr. Lutece, there isn't any money here. Who would work as a maid for free? [She gives Robert a dubious smile and puts the bag on her shoulder.] Besides, I should learn. It'll probably be easier to feed you if you watch me prepare it, right?

[Elizabeth has never been above guilt manipulation, clearly.]

It still baffles me as to how a society can function without any form of currency. Especially one that is not primitive.

[Not a particularly bad thing, but he ceases to see how it does not simply implode upon itself.

Or, at least, hasn't already.]

It doesn't make much sense to me either. I guess the people who work at the shops just do it because they like it. But I don't know who would like taking care of us, given how tense it is around here sometimes.

[Hint hint, Robert.]

There's always a period of adjustment with new living situations. [Not his fault he doesn't get along with DeWitt.]

Adjustment, right. [Takes two to do the 'adjustment dance', Robert.]

I'm looking forward to living with you both and doing everything that goes along with it. I never had to do any of these things for myself, I want to learn how to do it.

[They are grown adults. And managing just fine in the "not trying to kill one another" department.

They're adjusting just fine.]

If you want to, then, by all means, do. I simply don't want you to feel it is necessary.

[~~For now.~~]

[Elizabeth smiles and puts a reassuring hand on Robert's elbow.] You're very kind Mr. Lutece. But given you sometimes forget to eat, and Booker... well, his eating habits aren't the best either-- if we're going to live here, I'm going to make sure you both don't starve.

Now-- [She pulls out her journal again.] Is there anything I should avoid for you?

[Robert manages to avoid reminding Elizabeth that, for four years, he didn't have to eat. But mortality... is something it's better not to remind someone who's never been cognizant of being dead of.]

Nothing at all. I'm not particular with my meals.

Ah, that makes it easier. [Although...] Is there anything you like to eat?

Of course.

[He opens his mouth to speak, then... stops. After a few moments, he's forced to admit:]

But I can't recall what.

Oh... [Well, journal away then. Elizabeth looks back up at him apologetically.] I'm sorry.

...You'll let me know if you remember, won't you?

It doesn't matter, I suppose. But I will, if I remember.

Good. [That seems to satisfy her, and she smiles brightly at Robert.] I know it's hard to adjust here... I want to make it as easy as I can for you and Booker.

[He chuckles faintly.]

I don't find it too difficult, the adjusting. Though I think Mr. DeWitt is having a more difficult time than I am.

[...Aside from the "talking to himself."]

[...yes, that's what she's primarily worried about.] Well you at least have work. Booker... well... [There's a distinct lack of violence, to put it bluntly.]

[It takes him a moment to say it. He even sighs a bit before, like he really doesn't want to give this much credit.

But it's deserved.]

And Mister DeWitt has you.

[That... is new. Elizabeth looks a little skeptical, but smiles nonetheless.] I try, but... sometimes I think that too much has happened to him, and one person can't just wipe it away.

Nothing wipes it away. [That... is the sad fact of life.] Not, at least, without altering time itself.

But here... he will have to settle for building on top of what's happened. [We both will.]

Yes, that's true... [Elizabeth nods, able to smile after the realization that either way she would have to build a new life. Booker might want to do the same? And maybe it was another chance for Booker.]

I suppose the only thing that could make this better was if Ms. Lutece was here.

[It takes Robert a moment to respond. Like when he has to correct himself midway through a conversation with Rosalind that she is, in fact, not there.

It's a reminder that his world is not only outwardly different but that a key component to his life for the past twenty years is no longer present. In no way, shape, or form.]

I believe Mr. DeWitt and I disagree there.

[Ah, right. There was that moral dilemma again. Elizabeth had thought about how she would approach Booker's arrival to Luceti long before he had arrived. She had decided that if he arrived, she would be grateful to know he was alive. She would be grateful for the support.]

[Even if it felt like she was holding Booker up right now. It was better than before.]

Well 'Mr. DeWitt' actively looks for reasons to be cantankerous. [Elizabeth smiles softly.] If you miss her, isn't it better to see her instead of waiting and worrying?

[And while Elizabeth wouldn't say this out loud, she thinks Robert's condition would improve markedly if there actually was someone finishing his sentences.]

[Her first statement actually makes Robert chuckle. There's a genuine -- small, but very real -- smile on his features as he begins to nod in acknowledgement of the truth in it.

Then, Elizabeth goes on, and his smile alters. First thinning, then... he can't keep it up at all. It hits on a thought he's been nursing since he could truly take in what happened since his arrival here.

He'd intended to see Elizabeth back to the New York in which Booker DeWitt lived. He hadn't foreseen how stunning her powers would prove or how resolute she and DeWitt would be. He had not known how to break the cycle of events, how the story would end. And he had only begun to fathom the cost of it.

Without a Comstock, Rosalind would struggle. It was the work of a driven zealot that had funded her grandest creations, that had made her more than just a woman strangely interested in physics. That genius would go unregarded. They might each, in their restarted timelines, discover the Lutece Field again. Perhaps they'd even open the window again. But without Comstock, there would never be a Lutece Tear. They would always be separated.

Robert sighed softly.]

I would like it very much if she was here.

[Elizabeth realized, a little late, that she might have opened up something that was more depressing than it was worth. At least when she had been alone in Luceti, no one had deliberately pointed out that she was alone. And perhaps it was different because Elizabeth was entirely used to being alone. Not that she enjoyed it...]

[After a moment of hesitation, Elizabeth reached out and lightly rested her hand on Robert's elbow.] Well I'm not your sister by any stretch, but I'm here for both you and Mr. DeWitt. I owe you at least that much, for the whistle.

You would have figured it out on your own. [Which he fully believes. Giving her the schematics for it was merely a bit of insurance, and, well...

But he did place his other hand lightly over hers, a small acknowledgement of the gesture.]

If anything, the whistle made us even. I... was deeply in your debt.

[After all, there could be no second guessing how deeply involved he and Rosalind had been in studying Elizabeth all those years, in working for Comstock. Who else could have even begun to understand what she could do naturally, other than the two people who had learned to do it with machines?]

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