Two wide, grey eyes watched her go, wondering if he should say something. Part of him wanted to shout something obscene at her, to let her know just how daft she was being, but that wouldn’t do at all. What if she reported him to the Council? His record was spotless, of course, but the investigation wouldn’t be good for business. The media had a way of turning things around so that the big, bad corporations were always at fault, even when the facts indicated otherwise.
Tsking, Alex turned in the tank, curling up against the filthy glass. She would come back. They always did. In a week or two, he would wake up and find her kneeling in front of his tank, begging him to hire her. The thought made him smile a little. Anyone with half a brain knew that Fontaine was the future, and she, it seemed, still had all her faculties.
Perchance Alex took the risk of endangering his company by executing such a thing (though it would be of no one’s real concern), seldom would it bring shock. As it had been mentioned quite repetitively once before, Lutece would never come to estimate that which could apply to everyone in familiar circumstances as the behemoth. Other than the evidence that presented itself plainly to the eye: every individual down here involved with ADAM had been psychotic. Though it may not appear in certain instances, it would be infinitely better to recognize Rapture this way if one had concern for themselves.
Like that, the woman had took to her departure. Heels clicked against tile with each step as it relatively grew faint through the creature’s submerged ears. Inevitably the clacks had come to a halt, marking the woman’s absence in almost a theatrical method.
Perhaps she would return, for whatever reason.
Conversation, inquiries, or intrusiveness.
Would his downfall be of his own accord? Or another’s?
It was something to ponder.
FIN.
“No.” He sounded indifferent, but the truth was that he was disappointed. Gutted, even. She would have been an excellent addition to the company, but if she wanted to keep working for an inferior company and a poorly-paying employer, that was her business. “I don’t suppose it will.”
If only she knew. There would be a queue the length of a road outside the facility once it was announced that Fontaine Futuristics was hiring, but she wouldn’t be in it.
Oh, well.
“Now, if you don’t mind…”
He didn’t say anything beyond that, but when the exit slid open with a screech, it became quite clear what he wanted her to do.
It would appear that dear Alexander had not been the sort to accept refusal. For an individual of his capacity, although fragile, there could have been much worse: snarls, curses, what have you. But instead, mere dissatisfaction, as though a piece of information read from a pleasing book had been the last thing you wished to hear.
Well, it had been no matter. Although she may have agitated the behemoth, remorse hadn’t followed. This may more than likely have been (or will be) the only encounter they would undergo anyhow, so to make an effort would be fruitless.
Instead of gifting any sort of a proper farewell, the woman only came signify her understanding in that of a head tilt then after a change in direction… Had the opposed felt any need to keep the Lutece around, now would be the time to say something.
Otherwise, she was as good as gone.
For a moment, there was a hint of sadness in the leviathan’s eyes. How could she not accept his offer? It was the opportunity of a lifetime. He was offering her money, fame, plenty of research opportunities, and a flexible schedule, which she would have a hand in shaping. How could she say no? How could she think, ‘No, I don’t need this.’
Perhaps she was just shy. Intimidated. That was the only reasonable explanation.
“Suit yourself.” He waved a huge, bony hand and retreated to the bottom of his tank. But then, suddenly, he froze. What was that she’d said about Rapture? Could she really leave the city, or was she as delusional as the rest of its citizens? Most likely the latter. She didn’t look spliced, but you never knew. “I’ll just find someone else for the job.”
All that supposedly might have been was presented once before; opulence, opportunity, and so very much which could account for happiness, yet, here Rosalind stood, that of a void embodiment. Yes, she may have been present but palpable? Nay. The prophet had been capable to grant desires concerning the necessities of his leading physicist for a time being, but in lieu of the future there was only unending chronologies.
For an overly spliced man to propose that which she’d already established long ago was a tad amusing to ponder. Employees under his management may likely undergo death, if they were to accept.
“I wish you luck with your search, I can only estimate that it won’t be long before an individual presents them self.” Sarcasm in the most convincing of spirits (at least for the woman and what she’d seemingly been capable).
“Oh, yes.”
He chuckled, inwardly applauding his own cleverness. She didn’t need to know that Fontaine had died before he could pass the throne on to him. Alex had seized it himself, dusted it off, and raised the company from the ashes. Together, he and his employees would usher in a new era of greatness for Rapture—and, most importantly, for Fontaine Futuristics.
“Now…” He leaned forward in the tank, his old, heavy bones cracking and creaking as he did. “What will it be?”
Ticking struck betwixt evening hours and the Lutece woman found that her farewell would come so much sooner rather than later. The siblings only gave themselves quite a limited amount of passing to spend here and there within the engulfed metropolis… There are occasions which tardiness was conventional, but never was it to be due to trivial waste.
“I’m afraid I will have to decline the offer, Alex. As tempting as it may sound, I’ve already sworn my service under another.” Though he lacked that which could never again be retrieved, the prophet made up for in revenue and opportunity. “Although, I’m sure that if I am to ever find myself in Rapture, I will be more than sure to reach you if you’re proposal is fixed.”
Something told her the position would always remain open.
As she spoke, Alex’s smile grew into a hideous, open-mouthed grin. Now they were getting somewhere.
“I’m the body corporate,” he crooned, doing his best to sound—and look—as charming as possible. He thought he was doing a great job at it, but Rosalind might not. No matter. As long as she took the job and was willing to follow orders, he didn’t care what she thought about him. “The president, if you will, of Fontaine Futuristics.”
And her future employer. All she needed to do was to sign the contract and make it official, and then she could call herself an employee of Fontaine Futuristics, the largest and most influential company in Rapture.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard of me.”
Had that been so? May not have even came to correspond with the life he once had before the ADAM took hold and warped it beneath it’s intense influence. It was no matter though, regardless of whether he’d been that of a man or not, she was not to take a position under him. No matter his attempt at allure, Rosalind had not only been unwilling but also unable.
"I do though, find myself familiar with Fontaine Futuristics.“ She’d heard a plentiful amount of remarks regarding the business, as well as the owner… Now that might clear the window of any hindering smudges having to do with old Alex.
”Fontaine must have been at ease to learn that you would be the one to manage after his passing.“ Although they have yet to become acquainted, the man had been known of for many a thing… Particularly his thirst of power which so similarly thrived in nearly every being found in Rapture.
“I’ve seen plenty of men and women around, but none, I’m afraid, who looked out of place. Except…”
Except the two who, a few days ago, had passed through the laboratories, disappearing just in time to avoid getting killed. As Alex was far too busy attempting to electrocute them, he didn’t get a good look at them, but he remembered thinking that they looked strange. Strange enough to leave a lasting impression and to make him wonder where on earth they came from—and where they went.
“They were here a few days ago. They passed through the laboratories, and then, somehow, they… vanished.”
Giving ear quite intently, the redhead had found herself gaining what little trust the creature was to offer. Once before company had been far from desired, but as of this instant, it appeared as though he’d been pleasantly thrilled to grant assistance. Inevitably acknowledging the information in that of a nod, Rosalind had taken steps to and fro as though deep in thought.
”That had certainly been them, I’m quite sure of it.“ Splicers have yet to simply ‘vanish’, while in contrast, Elizabeth more than likely had found but another door for them to jar open.
The next step had been to inform her partner of the data received. "Thank you for that–” pausing, the woman had tilted her chin in the other’s direction, currently awaiting a name. With that, she would soon be taking her farewell. That is, lest the creature would grow distressed and/or provide more of what she’d been seeking.
There were few things that Alex the Great could resist. Praise was one of them—especially praise that was given to him with, he had to admit, a terribly charming smile. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad after all. She might have been a shameless trespasser, but at least she recognised his greatness. Far too few people did.
“Perhaps,” he growled, thoughtfully trailing a long, bony finger down the side of his face. “Describe them to me.”
Cooperation only came to confirm the woman’s estimations. Reading him had been just as, if not more so, less complex than review on books. There’d always been those whom, if given the opportunity, would present their true concerns: in this case it had been the creature’s importance (for whatever reason).
“They’d hardly looked from here– outsiders, if they’ve got a certain look to them that’s not common of the people down here. It was a man and a woman. What rests on the shoulders of the man can be recognized as impatience.” If able, the redhead would not disclose both Dewitt and the girl completely, but more so bring to mind unfamiliar characters who fit the persona.
Good grief. He could barely understand what she was saying, let alone figure out what she was looking for. She was, without a doubt, one of the strangest and vaguest people that he had ever met. The PR director would have been thrilled to meet her, had it not been the fact that he was, regrettably, dead.
“What might that be?”
It took every fibre of his being not to answer his own question and ask her if the thing that she was looking for was her common sense. There were signs all over the facility, prohibiting anyone who wasn’t an employee to enter it, but she hadn’t seen them. Or perhaps she had and had chosen to ignore them. Either way, she had no right to be here.
Nomadic hues found themselves accompanying the various details riddled along the polluted area which came to include the walls of the tank which enclosed the creature.
"More than one singular object per usual. As of this moment, an individual. Better yet, individuals.“ It had been prominent long before that this state, this certain period of time had been far from the desired. Yet, the woman found herself pleasantly occupied with the behemoth whom held conversation. One would have gathered that what once been recognized as a man, he’d been so far gone that even speech hadn’t been viable.
Raising her chin to beam up and along the opposed, "Undoubtedly presuming you manage the area in question, I could only estimate you may have caught sight of them.” Praise could potentially get you anywhere.
Was she daft, or did she simply have no manners? She was standing on company property, looking at company property, and touching company property, all without his permission, yet she didn’t seem apologetic about it. Not in the slightest. Her voice was devoid of emotion, even when she turned to look at him.
No matter. She might not have been sorry now, but when he was done with her, she would be.
“You’re trespassing,” he growled, pressing his face up against the tank wall. It irritated him to no end that he couldn’t get a reaction out of her. He wanted her to tremble, to plead for forgiveness, to fear, but so far, she hadn’t even batted an eyelid. “Didn’t you know?”
Characteristics were malformed immensely, effecting even his size which more than likely has increased tenfold since his over-consumption of those unstable stem cells– ADAM. The familiars referred to the condition as being spliced.
Regardless of his lack of humanistic features though, Rosalind, among others, had been well able to detect hostility. The tank, although very much unkempt, had yet to hide him completely from the human eye. Having been most expressive in tone though, it was well enough understood that this creature carried ill will toward anyone that hadn’t been common.
“I hadn’t.” There had been a minor peek toward the architecture which surrounded them both, multiple labels of the enterprise were seen littered upon the ore walls and ducts. Fontaine Futuristics. “Upon my first advent, I’d been under the assumption that those who remained were simply here to collect scraps. ADAM, as you call it… The last thing I wish to do is wander so idly, my reasoning is that I’m seeking that which is not easily found."
