'Daughter of God'

[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.))