Beneath the waves in the city of Rapture lies a sad story, one of many, about a man who came to help his wife and was turned into a monster instead. Why, you ask? Because of the secret he found, the secret everyone wanted, the secret nobody had - the Cure to ADAM Sickness. Bioshock OC Ezra T. Acreman FC: T. R. Knight -Will be closing February 1, 2014-
- Hey everyone, it’s tome for closing. I hope you guys have enjoyed writing with me as much as I have enjoyed writing with you. To those whose threads we were unable to finish, I’m so, so sorry. I won’t be deleting this account, (Since I might be reopening it in approx. 2 years time) but since it will be closed, don’t be afraid to simply drop the threads we have. I’m really and sincerely grateful for all who have written with me and I hope you all have amazing lives.
This must be the most wonderful day I've had since entering that vile city Perdition. I still don't remember how I managed to go from prison to a hospital bed in Main, but I'm grateful all the same. Apparently I'd been brought in by a Dr. Tenenbaum, which is odd because I remember mass producing her tonic formulas along with my own. I didn't know her well when we were working for Fontaine Futuristics, but were it not for her, I don't think I would be here. I can only remember shards of what happened while I was a protector, but I think Gil, Gil Alexander - an old friend of mine I used to work with, helped me at some point. I'm sure he had something to do with my recovery. I can't remember though. Such are the effects ADAM and the Protector conditioning has had on me. I hope he's alright though. I mean, I think I gave him the tonic recipe and if he had it I'm sure Tenenbaum has it too. Perhaps it can be used to help him and the other sufferers of ADAM sickness down in Rapture?
But back to today, I've found Helen and Diana! I was able to contact my brother Burt via letter and find out that the tonic worked! Helen is alive and well, better than she's ever been and that she and Diana are living in Wisconsin. It's a ways a way and he had some questions of his own, all of which I've answered in the letter I sent him this morning. I also sent Helen and Diana a set of letters and I'm hoping to get a response. I'm a little nervous though. I had one of the nurses write the letter for me since I can't write them yet, so I doubt they'll recognize the handwriting. I told them I was doing via scribe since my hands are still healing from my ordeal in Rapture. I hope they come to visit me or, when I'm well, to go visit them in person.
I fear for my appearance though. ADAM isn't kind in large doses and Big Daddies get the largest doses humanly possible. That plus all the scars I've accumulated over the years are most likely to make it harder to convince them of my identity. That and the fact that I've been gone for a little longer than 10 years doesn't help any.
Well, I think that's it for this entry. Best regards to you, reader,
Loretta had been toying with an audio diary, debating whether or not to play it, when she heard a deep growl behind her. She spun around, eyes wide, a strangled gasp escaping her pale lips when she saw the creature in front of her. Shit! But why was it so hostile? She hadn’t threatened it or a sister. Big Daddies didn’t usually attack just because it saw a person.
Oh. Was this its stash? Unlikely but not impossible. One of her own Daddies, back when she was a Little Sister, had liked to collect things for his Sisters. Perhaps this one was the same.
She took a step back, holding out her hands to show she hadn’t stolen anything. She moved away from the diaries, eyeing the gigantic rivet gun warily.
"It’s alright, I’ve not got your stuff," she spoke slowly, unsure whether the behemoth even understood her. "Everything’s the same as it was, see?" She bit her lip so hard it drew blood, but she hardly even noticed. Her attention was focused purely on the Big Daddy and that awful weapon.
Ezra watched as she stepped away from his audio diary collection, her hands held up innocently. Training his golden porthole on the woman, the big daddy debated the matter, his sluggish thoughts taking in all the details he could hear and see of this woman. She spoke better than the other splicers who hissed and shrieked at the mere sight of him, and the fact that she'd emptied her hands was a plus in the presence of this certain undersea beast.
Letting out a low groan, the mutant allowed the muzzle of his weapon to drop ever so slightly. She didn't seem dangerous, though her face looked like she could use a good med kit, if she hadn't used one already. Slowly, he made his way deeper into the room. She wasn't stealing, she wasn't looking, she wasn't after one of his sisters, but then what was she doing there?
Stepping aside and around her, the big daddy tilted his head, keeping at least one porthole on her as he deposited his findings.
Loretta crept along the empty hallway, eyes peeled for splicers or anything else that could be dangerous. So far she had been lucky. Only one incident that day, and she had managed to take out the poor addict with little effort.
The woman had been so busy checking her surroundings, she hadn’t even noticed what was right in front of her. She tripped over a lump in the floor, stumbling into an old, battered door. It swung open, and Loretta tumbled in after.
Getting to her feet, she looked around. A small, incredibly messy hidey-hole filled with odd trinkets.. She climbed to her feet, absently walking to a pile of random objects, picking up a small snow globe. And then something else caught her eye; audio diaries.
Heavy steel bottomed boots clunked as a hulking Rosie Protector made his way through the tunnels of Rapture. It had been a good day; the girls had been able to gather ADAM without much trouble, thanks to a crate of proximity mines he'd found in the Fisheries, and now he was on way with a nice handful of audio diaries to add to his collection.
The big daddy let out a contented groan as he entered the depot and stopped when he heard a familiar sound. Footsteps, audio diary, more footsteps. Letting out a low growl, the Rosie lifted his rivet gun. Someone was touching his collections - stealing his trinkets! With a bellowing roar, the big daddy shoved open the door. Standing beside his pile of audio diaries was a young woman, scarred from warring with splicers and possibly other residents of Rapture.
Ezra growled and lifted his rivet gun. Splicers were unwelcome and thieving splicers, especially so.
(( Headcanon: Gil and Ezra used to do impromptu duets when they were alone in the lab. Gil wanted to get better at singing but didn't know any good songs, so Ezra taught him some. Since then, whenever one of them started humming or singing under their breath, the other joined in! It would always end with them laughing and complimenting each other on a job well done! ))
HEADCANON ACCEPTED
//How the devil did I miss this????? Oh man, having them singing as they celebrate either of their accomplishments, singing something like “here we come A-wassaling” or some such nonsense, with Ezra having a more bass-baritone voice with Gil as a tenor-baritone.
The normally dark lab glistened with slime, rust and plant life as light continued to bear down on the weak eyes of Alex the Great. But even with the light's stinging pain, he couldn't keep himself away from the sublime intoxication that was ADAM. Trapped between his vice and his survival, the giant fetus pressed his hand against the glass, unable to keep his body from quivering in terror and pleasure.
"No, please Delta," his begged, his voice shrill and quavering as Delta gazed up at him from the panel to his tank. "You don't have to do this! I'm sorry! Please, you don't have to kill me! I-I'll move out to the country! I will live outside! I will live outside!"
He gasped as the needle penetrated his body and collected his DNA. This was it, he was going to die! He was going to die! Desperately, he continued to beg, pleading for his life which now rested in his enemy's hands. But as he watched his would-be killer debate between showing mercy and taking his revenge, a door opened up behind him and a low, gravely moan echoed through the chambers. Alex squinted his eyes, pressing his hands and face against his tank as a familiar Rosie model protector entered the room.
"Ezra!" the mutant cried, his high voice trembling, "Ezra help me!"
"That's it! That's it! Give it to him, Ezra!" Alex cheered, turning in his tank so as to see his fried give this interloper what-for. "Show him what it takes to be employee of the month!"
Ezra continued to retreat, firing rivets and setting mines as Delta changed his weapon and laid into the protector with phosphorus bucks and solid shotgun slugs. The Rosie quickly retreated behind the safety of a tank and reloaded his weapon, vaguely aware in the weight difference between these rivets and those previous. Letting out a tremendous bellow, he came out of hiding and continued his own onslaught on the Alpha Series.
Soon, blood began to pour from their injuries, wetting the ground with slick crimson gobs of gore. Air hissed from Ezra's tanks while Delta's pants echoed from within his helmet. With one last bellow, Delta charged, slamming the exhausted Rosie into the wall with his drill. But rather then penetrate the protector's suite, the weapon was caught in the metallic grip of Ezra's rivet gun.
Pushing away from the wall, Ezra maneuvered his ruined weapon, and grabbed Delta by the hose of his helmet and yanked. The force of it nearly dislodged the hose, but the Rosie managed to pull the Alpha series off balance and successfully run him into the wall. Dropping his rivet gun, Ezra grabbed Delta's helmet and slammed him into the wall, pounding him until the tile cracked. But as he withdrew the alpha series to bash the wall with him again, Delta reached out, grappling with the Rosie as they fought to eliminate one another.
For almost a minute they wrestled, each one fighting to dominate, to survive, until the Rosie felt a burst of electricity that sent him to his knees. There was a loud clang as Delta swung his drill, knocking the second big daddy onto his back where he lay gasping and wheezing for breath. Ezra's eyesight blurred and flickered as he gazed up at Alpha series above him and heard his dear friend's cries.
"Can't you see you've already won!?" shrieked Alex the Great, "You have the DNA key, what more could you ask for? Please, just leave us alone! We won't bother anyone, I swear! Please - No, Delta, you don't know what your doing! You don't know what he's accomplished! Delta-Delta stop! NO!"
With one swift stroke everything was silenced, the lights were gone and Ezra was left in darkness.
----------
Time was meaningless, pain non-existent, but even in this state of sleepy numbness, he could hear something - someone calling his name. From out of the darkness a voice came, a soft familiar voice.
"Helen?" he wondered aloud as his awareness came back to him, "Helen is that you?"
The figure came, a bright and smiling woman whose golden hair glinted like sunlight, came forward and extended her hand."It's time to go home Ezra," she said, her voice soft as the notes of a harp.
"You're not Helen," Ezra murmured, "you're..."
"Her mother," the woman said with a smile, "yes."
The chemist stared in wide eyed wonder. "That means you're-"
"What, you think we were going to let you wander about on your own?" she asked with a light laugh, "I don't think your mother would forgive me if I did that."
Ezra chortled and reached for her extended hand when something stopped him. A memory, a voice.
"Gil..." he muttered, panic rising in his chest, "Gil! I have to help him! And my family -what's happened to my family?"
"They're fine," the woman finished, taking his quavering hand, "they're just fine. Your family is taking good care of your family and the alpha series is with his daughter now."
Rising to his feet, Ezra felt an overwhelming sense of peace, the kind of peace you felt when you knew everything was going to be alright. Even when he gazed back at himself, the shattered porthole of his mutilated body, and the terrible laboratory that surrounded him. Turning back to the woman, he smiled and began to walk when he heard something that made him stop.
"Do you hear that?" he asked turning to the angel of Helen's mother.
"I do," she replied, her brow creased with concern. "Sounds like a lost soul...."
An expression of indescribably sympathy crossed her features, as Ezra looked around for the source. Letting go of her hand, the chemist stole forward, his eyebrows furrowed as approached tank in the middle of the room. There huddled at its base was a man surrounded by a thick, dark shroud.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he repeated, pressing his hands against his ears, his eyes shut as tightly a they would go, "I'm sorry.... I didn't mean to- I couldn't-" His voice broke into choked sobs as he curled up tighter against himself.
Ezra approached the man, his heart aching with each despairing sob. "Gil?" he asked, extending his hand. "Gil?"
The flinched at his touch, looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes, his cheeks still stained with the tears of his regrets.
"Ezra?" he asked disbelievingly, "No it can't be..."
"It most certainly can," Ezra replied, kneeling down as a heartfelt smile spread across his face.
"But.. I watched you die!" Gil objected, his voice hoarse from sobbing. "Delta, he- and then-!" The man recoiled into himself, clutching his head as he sobbed.
"I know what he did," Ezra breathed, hugging his dear friend, "I know.. But it's alright, we don't have to stay her - we can go home now!"
"Home?" Gil hiccuped, wiping his face with his palm, "What home? Ezra we're dead! We don't have a home! We don't have anything! We're-"
"We do have a home," Ezra said firmly, "and if we don't, you and I can make our homes wherever the dead make their homes. You, me, and the rest of our loved ones who have passed on. Now come on Gil, we'll never know unless we try."
With that, the chemist helped his old friend to his feet and followed Helen's mother to the light and the wondrous world beyond.
//Okay guys, it seems I may be closing sooner than expected. My family and I are going down to Texas on the 20’th and won’t be back ‘til around January third. That means every RP that we want to do or finish needs to be done this week. I don’t know if I will close permanently, but it is still a possibility. I sincerely apologize to those who I was rping with Michal on truthismyfiction, but I don’t have anything in me for him at this time so I’ll be closing his blog on Monday. Lexie’s will be closed on Tuesday and Ezra’s blog will follow on Wednesday. I’ll try to keep August and Alexa’s blogs around for as long as I can. Their time may even be extended past December into January since they have so many threads. Rest assured I will be good-bye art and a drabble for each of my chars, but I can’t promise any more than that.
Also, I will post the threads for Lexie, Ezra, August and Alexa so we can work stuff out.
I hope you guys have a fabulous holiday and I’ll see you all on Monday!]]
Very slowly, Gil rose from his chair, looking as though he had just seen a ghost.
"Ezra?"
His friend was nearly unrecognisable. He was unshaven and ungroomed, and his dull, weary eyes were nothing like Gil remembered them. He was a changed man. A ruined man. A shadow of his former self.
Maybe this was just a dream. Soon, Gil would wake up, gasping for air, and find that he had fallen asleep on his desk. Ezra was fine. He might not have heard from him in a long time, but his friend knew what he was doing. He was fine. Perfectly fine and in no danger of being taken away by anyone.
"I…" He knitted his brows. "I don’t understand."
He had to be dreaming. There was no way that Ryan’s men had found out what Ezra was doing. He had been so careful. They both had.
Ezra glanced back at the closed door behind him, and sighed. It was hard to speak with his heart weighed down by such a hard, resounding hopelessness.
"Gilbert, they found my apartment. It’s only a matter of time before the find me." His voice cracked, causing him to stop and rub his bearded face. "I… I wasn’t able to get my tonic before they came, so it’s probably still boxed up there. I doubt they’ll know what their looking at if they do find it. But that’s not the reason I came."
The chemist paused and reached into his jacket. “I’ve, uh, lost a number of heirlooms so if you could keep these for me, keep them safe and intact, I would greatly appreciate it.”
Extending his hand, Ezra carefully turned his palm and presented Gil a pair of black square-rim glasses. They weren’t much to look at, but inside them rested a host of memories and sentiment - memories and sentiment Ezra didn’t want to be lost.
"Please," he said, pressing the glasses into his dear friends palm, "You're the only one who understands their value."
Reluctantly, Gil did as he was told and curled up on the floor. But when he heard the sound of guns being loaded outside, he decided that enough was enough.
"Wait!"
He tore toward Ezra and seized the Protector’s arm with enough force to make him stumble.
"I don’t want you to get hurt."
His large hands shook, and there was a look of complete terror on his face. He didn’t want to do this, but he had to. For Ezra’s sake. If he didn’t intervene to halt the Family’s attack, then they would strip his friend for parts and dump him into an ocean trench. He wasn’t a person to them. He was a criminal. A monster.
"Let me take care of them."
He swallowed and gave his friend’s hand a gentle squeeze. It felt cold and heavy in his own, and for a moment, Gil wondered what it looked like under all that waterlogged linen and leather. He imagined that it looked a little like his own, only thinner and less pinkish.
Ezra bellowed ferociously as he tore through the small crowd, throwing land mines and firing rivets wherever possible. But the splicers were smart, and if they weren't, they were hardy. One gorilla of a man already took the after affects of a mine and was still lobbing boulders at him. Reaching into his pack, Ezra withdrew another land mine and hurled it at the group before tromping back to put distance between him and the splicers.
Angry howls and screeches mixed with his own furious bellows as the fight progressed. Taking a few steps back, the protector prepared to make a daring charge when a voice cried out and a sudden weight caught hold of his arm and caused him to stumble. Pain exploded in the behemoth's knee as it hit the pavement, causing him to groan loudly. He turned to see what had dragged him down and stopped for a moment when he saw the mutated doctor clinging to his arm.
Ezra let out a long wail, urging the Navigator to get back inside. What was he doing? Didn't he know how dangerous it was? Was he trying to get himself killed? Whatever the reason, the pudgy creature was now hanging on his arm, preventing him from moving forward.
"No! Stop you'll hit the Navigator!" screeched the female splicer, attracting his attention as she waved frantically for a white-coat and brute to stop. The splicers looked at each other and lowered their weapons, obviously unwilling to harm their Navigator.
Ezra looked around and then back at his mutated friend.
'Take... care of them?' he wondered, his sluggish mind barely comprehending his friends words. Slowly he shook his head. No, Doctors fixed Protectors. Protectors took care of splicers. If his friend tried to face off with them, he'd be killed.. But then why were the splicers lowering their weapons? Why didn't they attack?
The big daddy moaned, once again unsure what to do next.
He was about to ask Ezra what he was drawing when his friend stood up and made his way toward the doorway. Alarmed, Gil followed him, fearing the worst. The sight that met his eyes very nearly made him faint.
His caretakers had come back, but they weren’t alone. They had brought three huge, grim-faced men with fists larger than their heads and a gangly woman whose hands seemed to flicker in and out of view. All of them wore butterfly pins.
"No…"
Gil scrambled away from the doorway, hoping that they hadn’t seen him. There was no doubt in his mind that they had seen his friend, who was doing his best to frighten the intruders off. To no avail, it seemed. He could hear someone shouting and then someone else confirming that this was, indeed, the Big Daddy who had run off with their precious Navigator.
Feeling very afraid, Gil gripped his friend’s gloved hand. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want Ezra to get hurt, but he wasn’t ready to go back to Fontaine Futuristics. Not yet.
They were splicers. Splicers were at his den! Ezra growled angrily and took a step towards the doorway when he felt something grip his hand. Looking over through his helmets side port hole, he realized that it was a frightened Gil. He looked back at the semi collapsed door where white coats and gorilla men were nearing and growled. If he used his mines, he'd blow the entrance and bring the whole place down on top of them. The only way to fight this was in the open field where they had an advantage.
Turning to his mutant friend, the big daddy gently shepherded his friend to a safer corner. Stepping back, he made a gesture, pointing at Gil and then at the ground he was standing on.
'You. Stay,' he seemed to say before hurrying to an ammo pile and topping out on rivets and mines. If they wanted to tango, he'd tango, but they weren't getting in.
She flinched and backed off, sitting a decent distance away and sitting on her hands -to show she wasnt a thief- and looked at him, still a bit frightened.
"I’m sorry." she said, and watched him carefully, "I can leave if I’m bothering you."
Sara watched with fascination. He seemed to have his wits about him. He’d even responded! She smiled and watched him with the hope that maybe Zeke was like this. Maybe he was still salvageable.
A thought struck her and she reached into the small excuse for a pack and put a book nearby his things. A copy of The Great Gatsby -her favorite.
Glimpsing movement out of his side porthole, Ezra turned and stopped when he saw the book in her hand. He could see her fondness for it written on her face and titled his head behind his helmet as he watched her place it in one of his stacks. Uncertainly, the big daddy stepped forward and picked up the book. He couldn't read the writing on the cover, but he could tell from how dry it looked that it was very well taken care of.
He turned, the yellow light of his port hole resting on her. No one other than one of the girls had ever given him a gift before. The white-coats in Prometheus only jabbered and poked him with needles before sending him out again, while splicers howled and hurt him in their eternal quest for his little girls. He glanced down at the book and then at her before returning his attention to his book piles, his porthole color now a friendly, glowing green.
She flinched and backed off, sitting a decent distance away and sitting on her hands -to show she wasnt a thief- and looked at him, still a bit frightened.
"I’m sorry." she said, and watched him carefully, "I can leave if I’m bothering you."
She didnt know why she spoke to him. She didnt know if he understood that, let alone if he could speak back.
Seeing her retreat, Ezra relaxed. He'd already lost things like wine bottles and medical tins to splicers, and some had even taken the liberty to ruin some of his audio diaries with their scribbles! Not that he wasn't guilty of scribbling on things too, but these where his treasures, not theirs. Glancing at the woman, the big daddy made his way across the room and checked his precious collections.
Funnily enough, the big daddy was feeling very coherent today. Normally he didn't understand half of what he was told, but for some reason, he understood the woman's words almost perfectly. He groaned dismissively and began picking through his messy piles of books.
Ezra shifted into a more comfortable position when he heard footsteps again. He opened his eyes and gazed out of his helmet’s left porthole. The woman was still watching him. But why? He wasn’t anything interesting… at least he didn’t think so. Then why?
Ezra's eyes narrowed behind his helmet as he watched her explore. She didn't look like a splicer, but she sure was interested in his stuff. He rose to his feet and let out a low warning growl. If she tried to make off with any of his trinkets or audio diaries, there would be trouble. After all, it'd taken the hazy minded big daddy weeks to organize everything to where he could find them without stepping on them.
Sara had encountered Big Daddies on more than one occasion, and thought them poor, tragic creatures. She’d keep splicers off them, and kept telling people if you left them well enough alone, that they were fine.
People just refused to listen to logic these days.
So here she went, deep into the bowels of Rapture to try and salvage herself some parts for one of her experiments, but now she was regretting the thud of huge footsteps. It was a Big Daddy.
"Night-night, Mr. Bubbles," yawned the big daddy's little charge as he helped her crawl into the vent. Once sure the little girl was safe inside her vent, he turned and made his way down one of Raptures long, dark corridors. The thuds and splashes of his footfalls echoed throughout the tunnels and were occasionally accompanied by a groan or two.
Spotting another vent, the Rosie stepped over and pounded it thrice with his fist. Unaware of the woman watching him from the darkness, he waited for reply, moaning softly just in case his knocks hadn't been heard. After several minutes, the big daddy took a step back and did something very unusual. He reached back into the secret pocket he had beside his mine pouch and pulled out a small teddy bear. With his gift in place, the big daddy turned and proceeded down the hall toward the next gatherer's vent
