Aya Brea (
mitochondriaaya) wrote2018-04-27 11:28 pm
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Bioshocked
Who: Aya and the boys?
When: Once the boys are old enough to remember Rapture? 1960 or so.
What: So they probably shouldn't leave that down there huh?
Breakfast tables were...probably dangerous. Given how often things discussed there determined the fate of the world and all. Or at least that's how it felt some days. They lived on base given Elcy and Yinsi were high assets and Braig and Dilan were likely to be even higher assets. Some days she felt kind of like she'd just managed to stumble accidentally into something that made her so happy. Growing up as a base brat had bled into college that led to liaison to their scientists had led to something of a whirlwind romance had led to special dispensation that ad her waking up every morning with two wonderful men in her life.
Not bad as far as she was concerned, even if it took a particular frame of mind to accept their marriage. They were headed into a era of more openness and allowance, hopefully, she'd like that after growing up in the fifties and it's insistence on perfect modular housing and nuclear families.
And kitchen devices. What the hell was that even about? Granted, she wasn't a modern housewife that spent hours in the kitchen, she had a range of talents that did not...comply with the standard and Dilan was a better cook than she'd ever be. A fact that kind of made her outcast at the base housewife socials but hey, she was usually busy anyway.
Still, some days she almost wished for the standard experience. Days like today when she looked up from her eggs at the breakfast table to blink at her husbands, bemused, as they did the secret language based on prior experience thing. She loved them, yes, but sometimes her brilliant men lost her...
...and then wrote out a list.
Hell.
"So we're going to the middle of the ocean..." she drawled, later, in front of her CO. "For world peace." At least that was how her men had phrased it? Half remembered horrors from a city under the sea. She hadn't had a chance to stop by her inlaws before pinning the commander, but...the boys outranked anyone on base normally. That was what happened when you wrapped intelligent people in a military bodyguard set. You protected your intelligent assets after all...
"A boat and...?"
"I've a requisitions list for the armory."
"...of course you do. You're sure this isn't just some night terror, Brea?"
"Operation Paperclip. All of the files on it are redacted," she noted softly. She'd...checked? Subset of scientists NOT brought to the US had been listed with Rapture destination though. It was...legit? As far as records went. And there had been adverts about an open city, Rapture...
...she wasn't feeling nearly as stable by the time their boat bumped against the small, rocky outcropping and they were threading their way into the dark lighthouse to...go down. Down. Oh hell. The video clip kicked on at eighteen fathoms.
Where the artist need not fear censure...
...where the scientist need not be bound by petty morality.
That was a bad sign wasn't it? "I see why your parents left," she admitted quietly as she leaned back against the boys, shadows playing across the packs at their feet. The neon splashes that shifted through the window as they came in on the approach to Rapture was...almost normal. Neon was the advertisement hook of choice these days but the whale drfting past painted in those reflected colors was certainly...striking.
Okay, admittedly, she was impressed. A city under the sea? All shadowy depths and polished windows and chrome? It was...attractive.
But they had a lot of ammo for a reason yes. Staying grounded was important, this wasn't a vacation. Not...really. "Not seeing much movement in the connecting tunnels," she noted softly as the bathysphere leveled out. "Population is likely low..." Given it SHOULD be a time of day when people were out of work and at their leisure?
Should.
"I demand a proper honeymoon after this," she noted softly. JUST IN CASE.
When: Once the boys are old enough to remember Rapture? 1960 or so.
What: So they probably shouldn't leave that down there huh?
Breakfast tables were...probably dangerous. Given how often things discussed there determined the fate of the world and all. Or at least that's how it felt some days. They lived on base given Elcy and Yinsi were high assets and Braig and Dilan were likely to be even higher assets. Some days she felt kind of like she'd just managed to stumble accidentally into something that made her so happy. Growing up as a base brat had bled into college that led to liaison to their scientists had led to something of a whirlwind romance had led to special dispensation that ad her waking up every morning with two wonderful men in her life.
Not bad as far as she was concerned, even if it took a particular frame of mind to accept their marriage. They were headed into a era of more openness and allowance, hopefully, she'd like that after growing up in the fifties and it's insistence on perfect modular housing and nuclear families.
And kitchen devices. What the hell was that even about? Granted, she wasn't a modern housewife that spent hours in the kitchen, she had a range of talents that did not...comply with the standard and Dilan was a better cook than she'd ever be. A fact that kind of made her outcast at the base housewife socials but hey, she was usually busy anyway.
Still, some days she almost wished for the standard experience. Days like today when she looked up from her eggs at the breakfast table to blink at her husbands, bemused, as they did the secret language based on prior experience thing. She loved them, yes, but sometimes her brilliant men lost her...
...and then wrote out a list.
Hell.
"So we're going to the middle of the ocean..." she drawled, later, in front of her CO. "For world peace." At least that was how her men had phrased it? Half remembered horrors from a city under the sea. She hadn't had a chance to stop by her inlaws before pinning the commander, but...the boys outranked anyone on base normally. That was what happened when you wrapped intelligent people in a military bodyguard set. You protected your intelligent assets after all...
"A boat and...?"
"I've a requisitions list for the armory."
"...of course you do. You're sure this isn't just some night terror, Brea?"
"Operation Paperclip. All of the files on it are redacted," she noted softly. She'd...checked? Subset of scientists NOT brought to the US had been listed with Rapture destination though. It was...legit? As far as records went. And there had been adverts about an open city, Rapture...
...she wasn't feeling nearly as stable by the time their boat bumped against the small, rocky outcropping and they were threading their way into the dark lighthouse to...go down. Down. Oh hell. The video clip kicked on at eighteen fathoms.
Where the artist need not fear censure...
...where the scientist need not be bound by petty morality.
That was a bad sign wasn't it? "I see why your parents left," she admitted quietly as she leaned back against the boys, shadows playing across the packs at their feet. The neon splashes that shifted through the window as they came in on the approach to Rapture was...almost normal. Neon was the advertisement hook of choice these days but the whale drfting past painted in those reflected colors was certainly...striking.
Okay, admittedly, she was impressed. A city under the sea? All shadowy depths and polished windows and chrome? It was...attractive.
But they had a lot of ammo for a reason yes. Staying grounded was important, this wasn't a vacation. Not...really. "Not seeing much movement in the connecting tunnels," she noted softly as the bathysphere leveled out. "Population is likely low..." Given it SHOULD be a time of day when people were out of work and at their leisure?
Should.
"I demand a proper honeymoon after this," she noted softly. JUST IN CASE.
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"Can I just say now, once, that it creeps me out to be this deep under water?" the heavy, heavy Katzu said.
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She made herself useful slotting Barig's ammo clips into his preferred access pockets and strips before lacing and strapping her boots higher. Over blades in case, laced to knee as extra armor and a touch of water proofing...yeah. "Anyone comes at us with that damn Adam stuff and we can't dodge, it's me, clear?" Human had a better track record?
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"...Hate to say it, but you're right." Braig agreed, "Olia go up and down too fast, and elements only know what would happen to Dilan. Nobody ever tested it on Katzu."
"My luck it'd shoot me up high because of mom's blood and then get me stuck there because of the Clan's." Dilan mused.
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That wasn't exactly an inspiring scene, a dimly lit hallways they could barely see with a knocked over vending machine dominating the area ahead of them. The door opened to salty tang and the taste of burnt wiring on the tongue, at least for Aya. Had to play merry hell with Dilan. "Face mask?" she asked softly.
Whatever he might say was interrupted by a verdigrised radio on the wall screeching to life "Holy, an arrival? Hell people? Please tell me you're real people?"
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"Identify yourself."
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"Better idea you tell us," Dilan said, "what's an Ayn Rand fan doing in Rapture?"
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"228." Dilan said after they'd had their silent conversation.
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"Not going to lie to you, that's such a better answer than teddy bear four," he sighed. "So some bad news I guess and you've every right to hate me for it? Arrival building is...messed up. Smugglers ran into Ryan's enforcer crew years ago and it got kind of shot to shit. You're gonna run into leaks and tweakers, and since my maintenance team never got back in there I'm better it's cold and dark to boot sometimes," he huffed.
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Braig was still glaring at the radio.
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"Got this one and one at main lock toward the entertainment buildings here, that's it so you get stuck we're shit all as far as useful I'm afraid."
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Yup, surreal tourism at it's finest. There were brochures.
And then not too damn creepy at all a ton of abandoned luggage cases and a half collapsed hallway. Great. Hear anything? There was enough room for her to squeeze past initial collapse so she could scout it if necessary?
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At least until a scream started up somewhere ahead. Braig's eyes narrowed and he signed again, stay put while the two men started clearing enough of the collapse that Dilan could get through.
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Why the HELL did they make the ceiling in this place so high?! She reached back to tap Braig's shoulder, just letting him know SHE had a bead on something, maybe, so he might need to watch their backs for a moment instead of lifting.
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Dilan, meanwhile, continued to lift with only soft grunts when he was moving a particularly large bit of debris.
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