Eleanor Lamb (
notyourutopian) wrote2014-09-27 12:38 pm
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Entry tags:
Open Action in the morning, the audio later in the day.
[Action]
It was an hour or so after sunrise when Eleanor arrived at the battle dome, arriving early enough that she was able to get the room she liked, a bit out of the way from through traffic. She had been working on her combat program for months, but a few weeks ago she had finally finished it. When she turned it on, the air shimmered and shifted until a large room formed, tinted red with the glow of emergency lights. There were large windows in several walls, and beyond them sat the hard, dark blue of the deep ocean.
Persephone prison. She had tried other places, but it came back to this. Her mother's stronghold, the last place she had been in Rapture before she had found herself in Luceti. She knew some of the details were wrong, but she had tried to get them as close as possible, with the various tunnels heading into other sections of the prison, the various small water leaks that were collecting on the floor faster than the aging pump system could keep up.
She set her bag down by the door, then fished from it the right glove of her diving suit, with the long, unpleasant syringe spear attached to it. She had opted not to wear the whole suit, dressed in a black ankle length skirt with slits up the side and a white blouse...honestly, she hadn't put the suit on in weeks and weeks. But the spear was the weapon she was most familiar with. And the one she would be using once she was finally sent back here.
She pressed several buttons on the control panel and then made her way out to the center of the room, her boots sloshing in the ankel deep water. At first, nothing happened, the only sound that of the water draining into the room, and Eleanor's soft breathing as she waited. This was all randomized, and she could feel the tension building inside her.
Suddenly there was a shout of gibberish from above, and she twisted around to see a man in a bloody rabbit mask standing on the upper walkway, his clothing torn and tattered. He was brandishing a baseball bat above his head and his beady eyes were whirling behind his mask. A splicer.
As if drawn by his insane shouting, more of them appeared from the surrounding hallways. A woman in a fox mask, her dress in tattered, shaking a tommygun. A man in an almost pristine suit juggling fire. And more behind them.
Round one, Eleanor thought, bracing herself as the group charged towards her.
Eleanor had never been trained to fight. What she knew, she had learned by watching her Father and the splicers battling it out in Rapture. So there was nothing elegant about it, no beautiful martial arts motions or carefully planned moves. Just a kind of brutal, heartless efficiency. The man with the bat jumped down towards her, and Eleanor caught him with her telekinesis and swung him around, ignoring his screams as she slammed him into a pillar with a wet, thick cracking sound. The woman with the gun stopped a few feet away, lifting her barrel and opening fire, but Eleanor was gone, leaving a swirl energy as she teleported behind her opponent.
She plunged the syringe into the woman's back, lifting her off the ground and dragging her along, crying and groaning, just in time to use her as a living shield against a pair of fireballs thrown by the third man. The woman's cries turned to screams, and Eleanor shook her off the syringe, tossing her aside like a rag doll before she charged the third man.
This fight took longer, he could teleport akin to the way she could, but eventually he stopped in the wrong spot and she caught him up with her power, driving him down under the water until he stopped moving.
More came, armed with their makeshift weapons, and she moved through them like a tiny reaper, leaving a stream of smoking, bleeding, dying bodies in her wake. The last man fell to a fireball that jumped from Eleanor's fingers and caught him in the chest, and he went up like a candle before collapsing face down on the floor.
And then, silence again. "Three minute pause," the program declared, and Eleanor let herself slump to the floor to catch her breath.
[Audio - evening]
[Eleanor doesn't address the journals often, really. She talks to other people, but usually isn't so social as to invite the attention herself. But something has been bothering her for a while, she eventually she flips the book open, careful not to turn the video on.]
Do you all ever wonder how they know the things they do, here? [She starts talking after a moment, deciding not to bother with the pleasantries.] I mean, how do they know what the right thing to inflict on us is? The things we want, or the things that bother us so deeply...they always seem to know.
When we were in that strange university, my mother called me. She was part of the illusion, but it was her. Her voice, her tone, her...personality. But she has never been here. Or at Christmas, people received things they wanted...sometimes things they didn't even know they wanted!
It just...I don't know. Do you think they can just read everything we're thinking?
It was an hour or so after sunrise when Eleanor arrived at the battle dome, arriving early enough that she was able to get the room she liked, a bit out of the way from through traffic. She had been working on her combat program for months, but a few weeks ago she had finally finished it. When she turned it on, the air shimmered and shifted until a large room formed, tinted red with the glow of emergency lights. There were large windows in several walls, and beyond them sat the hard, dark blue of the deep ocean.
Persephone prison. She had tried other places, but it came back to this. Her mother's stronghold, the last place she had been in Rapture before she had found herself in Luceti. She knew some of the details were wrong, but she had tried to get them as close as possible, with the various tunnels heading into other sections of the prison, the various small water leaks that were collecting on the floor faster than the aging pump system could keep up.
She set her bag down by the door, then fished from it the right glove of her diving suit, with the long, unpleasant syringe spear attached to it. She had opted not to wear the whole suit, dressed in a black ankle length skirt with slits up the side and a white blouse...honestly, she hadn't put the suit on in weeks and weeks. But the spear was the weapon she was most familiar with. And the one she would be using once she was finally sent back here.
She pressed several buttons on the control panel and then made her way out to the center of the room, her boots sloshing in the ankel deep water. At first, nothing happened, the only sound that of the water draining into the room, and Eleanor's soft breathing as she waited. This was all randomized, and she could feel the tension building inside her.
Suddenly there was a shout of gibberish from above, and she twisted around to see a man in a bloody rabbit mask standing on the upper walkway, his clothing torn and tattered. He was brandishing a baseball bat above his head and his beady eyes were whirling behind his mask. A splicer.
As if drawn by his insane shouting, more of them appeared from the surrounding hallways. A woman in a fox mask, her dress in tattered, shaking a tommygun. A man in an almost pristine suit juggling fire. And more behind them.
Round one, Eleanor thought, bracing herself as the group charged towards her.
Eleanor had never been trained to fight. What she knew, she had learned by watching her Father and the splicers battling it out in Rapture. So there was nothing elegant about it, no beautiful martial arts motions or carefully planned moves. Just a kind of brutal, heartless efficiency. The man with the bat jumped down towards her, and Eleanor caught him with her telekinesis and swung him around, ignoring his screams as she slammed him into a pillar with a wet, thick cracking sound. The woman with the gun stopped a few feet away, lifting her barrel and opening fire, but Eleanor was gone, leaving a swirl energy as she teleported behind her opponent.
She plunged the syringe into the woman's back, lifting her off the ground and dragging her along, crying and groaning, just in time to use her as a living shield against a pair of fireballs thrown by the third man. The woman's cries turned to screams, and Eleanor shook her off the syringe, tossing her aside like a rag doll before she charged the third man.
This fight took longer, he could teleport akin to the way she could, but eventually he stopped in the wrong spot and she caught him up with her power, driving him down under the water until he stopped moving.
More came, armed with their makeshift weapons, and she moved through them like a tiny reaper, leaving a stream of smoking, bleeding, dying bodies in her wake. The last man fell to a fireball that jumped from Eleanor's fingers and caught him in the chest, and he went up like a candle before collapsing face down on the floor.
And then, silence again. "Three minute pause," the program declared, and Eleanor let herself slump to the floor to catch her breath.
[Audio - evening]
[Eleanor doesn't address the journals often, really. She talks to other people, but usually isn't so social as to invite the attention herself. But something has been bothering her for a while, she eventually she flips the book open, careful not to turn the video on.]
Do you all ever wonder how they know the things they do, here? [She starts talking after a moment, deciding not to bother with the pleasantries.] I mean, how do they know what the right thing to inflict on us is? The things we want, or the things that bother us so deeply...they always seem to know.
When we were in that strange university, my mother called me. She was part of the illusion, but it was her. Her voice, her tone, her...personality. But she has never been here. Or at Christmas, people received things they wanted...sometimes things they didn't even know they wanted!
It just...I don't know. Do you think they can just read everything we're thinking?
no subject
Would you like some help with that?
no subject
No, thank you. It will heal in a minute or two.
[Indeed, the blisters were slowly closing, the burns healing over. But it clearly hurt. If she'd been a real big sister, it would've healed already. But she also would've been quite mad so, upsides and downsides.]
no subject
[Luke seems curious, but realizes something...]
I never got your name, miss. My apologies. I'm Luke. Luke Skywalker.
no subject
[She draws in a breath. Skywalker...why did that name sound familiar...]
My name is Eleanor Lamb. ...Are you Leia's brother?
no subject
[He offers a hand, along with the trademarked Skywalker smile. That dorky, lopsided one he never outgrew.]
Nice to meet you Eleanor. I take it you've spent time with my twin?
no subject
We have spoken several times. She mentioned you.
no subject
[He knows it was, but still.]
no subject
Good things. [Her gaze shifted to his weapon.]
What is that, by the way?
no subject
It's called a lightsaber. The traditional weapon of Jedi Knights.
no subject
That is remarkable. Lasers were just theoretical when I came from.
no subject
[He's not going to attempt to explain it. But he clicks it off and clips it to his belt.]
And just a theory? What world are you from? Earth? Or one of it's variations?
no subject
[It looks like a laser to her!]
no subject
no subject
Most of the people here are from one variation of earth or another.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
If the people I might consider my...antagonists...were here, this would be a far worse place than any of us realize.
[They didn't need powers to ruin a place. Just science. And time.]
We are far better off that it is only me.
no subject
None of mine have showed up either. But if you ever hear of a man named Palpatine? Tell me or my sister immediately. He may eventually show up, and he's quite good at manipulating people.
no subject
[The teen manages to get her smile back a little bit.]
Want to do the next round too?
no subject
Good to meet you, Eleanor.
no subject
Okay. Nice to meet you too.