Delta Catch All

[daddy_topside]

Who: Subject Delta (daddy_topside) and pretty much everyone!
What: Delta v (small) Civilization
When: Varying times of the day!
Where: Varying spots but mostly around the outer edges of Pumpkin Hollow!
Warning(s): Canon typical violence (Bioshock). Will add anything if they come up!


Open - In Town! (Daytime)

Subject Delta was created for the sole purpose of attending to the protection of a singular Little Sister. When he wasn’t doing that, he was hunting for leaks and doing repairs on a megalomaniac’s underwater hell city.

Figuring out mundane things like housing and groceries isn’t… quite in his repertoire. You might as well have thrown a tortoise into a lake and gotten about the same level of drowning incomprehension.

Typically, Delta would commit to the fine art of simply disregarding everything anyone tried to tell him and forge his own path. It’s just this time he’s so far out of his depth, he doesn’t even have the familiar to fall back on.

In the end, stunned by the endless be-clouded skies and the sheer shock of it all, Delta simply parks himself on a rocky hill and contemplates insanity.


For Grace - Downtown (Daytime)

Money, at least, was a familiar concept to Subject Delta. Cash to be traded for goods (and services, but you didn’t exactly get service between the splicers having the run of the place and just plain being a Big Daddy). You didn’t crawl out of a libertarian’s wet dreams without at least learning that.

The question is just what to spend money on. Deprived of his weapons, Delta instead muddles about Downtown, accumulating frightened and wary stares from the sparse populace as he contemplates the window of a woodworking shop.

Comments

[deepbluerevue]

“Thank you, sir,” Grace says absently, eyeing the steep, old-fashioned stairs. The banisters on either side look sturdy enough, so she rolls her shoulders a few times, plants one hand on each railing, and keeps her weight braced on each arm as she hauls herself upward as gracefully as she’s able. Her left knee holds her weight when she’s standing, thankfully, but it’s stiff as a board when moving. Best to keep her momentum up.

By the time she reaches the top of the landing, she’s perspiring lightly. Even the Drop had plenty of elevators, and where there weren’t elevators, there were a dozen Family men eager to give Gracie their arms. Just another adjustment to make. At least Miss Leeds mentioned some ground floor lodgings.

“Whoof,” she breathes, leaning against a wall at the top.

[daddy_topside]

Delta nearly puts his boot through the stairs on his first step. The ominous sound of creaking wood follows him the whole way up, even with carefully placed steps.

At the sight of Grace leaning against the wall at the end, Delta pauses to give her a look of consternation, still in the stairwell. She could have asked that he carry her as a favor instead.

[deepbluerevue]

Under the weight of Delta’s unreadable stare, Grace straightens back up. “Thank you kindly,” she says, reaching out to reclaim her belongings and glancing at the number on her key before setting out down the hallway.

[Internal thoughts]

She’s trying so hard to keep all this from feeling odd, but everything together — this tiny, old-fashioned town, that last day in Rapture, the strange, white-haired woman’s deal — she’s not even close to processing it all. To have a Big Daddy trailing her on top of that (a Big Daddy with every right to hold a grudge)… it just feels like one more terribly strange thing.

“The path to her own salvation”? What did that mean? How was she supposed to even know where to start? What kind of “purpose” does that woman intend? If Grace couldn’t figure out the purpose, would the deal end?

“Well,” Grace says, stopping in front of a door. “This here’s mine.” She cranes her head up to look at Subject Delta in earnest, for once at a loss for what to say.

[daddy_topside]

His room was a couple doors over. The fact that it's his room, even temporarily, is a concept Delta finds at odds with his understanding of the world. The big daddy stares down at the comically small key and fob in his hand, feeling strangely at loss.

Raising his gaze up to Grace's face, he contemplates pulling out the slate and chalk and wishing her a goodnight. He doesn't, because somewhere underneath it all there's a jagged part of him that still balks at the prospect of such explicit communication.

Too direct. Too intimate, somehow, and especially in this moment with Grace's dark eyes shining in the orange hallway light.

Closing his hand around his key, Delta straightens up and wordlessly moves past her, the sound of his armored footsteps shaking through the floor.

Wrap!

[deepbluerevue]

Grace watches him go. “Goodnight,” she says belatedly.