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And here I thought you were going to revel in it for a while.

*"hmph" noise goes here*

It could be better. No leaks, though, that's a plus. Ryan let Rapture go to seed. Not that I'm complainin', seein' as how I own the place now.

Because of me. 'Cuz of me you own it now. Couldn't have done it without your little helper, huh?

Like I said, th' fact you bark like a cocker spaniel when I say "would you kindly" makes it easy as sin. Never bet against th' long con, kid. Or you'll see just who runs th' tables.

*pats on the top of his head and grins* Must'a killed old Ryan t' see you. His own flesh an' blood, beatin' him t' death. Musta been quite the picture. Wish I coulda watched.

*breathes in, a little sharper than he means to, when he's patted on the head* You told me to. He told me to. You--

*frowns, peers up at him through pissed off lashes, hands fists at his sides* Anyone ever told you you're a pretty shitty person? Think it goes without saying.

You wouldn't exist if it weren't for me. Hell, kid, I guess that makes me an' the Kraut th' closest thing you ever had t' parents. *laughs*

*grins and "tsk"s softly* Ask me if I care. Go ahead, Jacky. Ask.

*smirks, dryly as he can* That mean you were the one with the womb? Doesn't surprise me.

*props his chin up a little higher* And do you? At all?

((XD Likewise! Used to have a Jack, but he went quiet. Sob. Also, you win with that snark, good sir or madam.))

... *poker face goes here* Technically, kid. English. Do you speak it? Christ Almighty, coulda given him less've a smart mouth, Suchong, you quack.

Not a whit. Got what I wanted. Just got one last pest to squash. Well, two. You an' Mother Goose. An' those freakjobs she whipped up.

Yeah, I speak English. And that was a joke. Heard of those? Cuz I know what those are too.

Tenenbaum? Last I checked you had a hand in making the Little Sisters too, don't act so high and mighty about it.

*angrily* Would you kindly shut your Goddamned mouth?

Tenebaum, th' Little Sisters, all of them. I'm th' one in charge of Rapture now, an' I don't need those little weeds sproutin' up in my front yard. She made 'em, I bankrolled it. An' she also made you.

*vicious smile* After all, they've got what th' Splicers want.

*And Jack does kindly shut the hell up; good timing on Fontaine's part, because Jack was just about to snark something else back.

Instead, he's stuck there with his mouth shut, listening to him and letting his brows draw into more of a glower, as he rubs his fingers together, thinks about things like bee plasmids and how easy it'd be right now to just do the fucker in.

And maybe fixes Fontaine with a look, like 'Am I allowed to talk now?'*

And oh, Fontaine can guess exactly what's going through Jack's head. He smirks and wags a finger is warning. "Don't attack me, would you kindly?" He's having way too much fun tormenting the poor kid. Can you tell?

He rolls his eyes. "Y' can talk now, kid, but don't you try anythin'. Don't forget who pulls your strings. You think that's th' only one? I got others." Much more fatal ones.

~~BOO, RUINS ALL JACK'S FUN~~

Jack only jumps a little, once he's allowed to talk again, stops debating all things fire and ice and even that shotgun he's still got slung across his back right now. God, he would love to. Don't even get him started. But what he's not allowed to do--he's definitely not allowed.

So he just fixes Atlas with a look, furrowed brows and confusion. "...Others?"

~~NYAH NYAH JACK~~

The smile on Fontaine's face is not a happy one. It's the kind of smile that would make people run for their lives. "Lots. Not gonna bother just yet. I think this one works just fine, don't you?"

Plus, if he actually used Code Yellow, he'd have a dead Jack on his hands. He's still got some use.

~~MYEH D:~~

He didn't like that idea. Bad enough people could goddamn control him, send him running every which way, doing just what they wanted whether he liked to or not. But that there were things he still didn't know, more tricks up Fontaine's sleeves that he could use on him at any time? He just sneered, wiped at his jaw with a hand. "Yeah, peachy keen. Having the time of my life."

~~ouchies, code yellow D:~~ ~~srsly, i think i winced every time he did that <<~~

~~>:D~~

Fontaine looks far too pleased with himself. The ball's still firmly in his court, even if Jack's aware of the entire con. It's not like the boy can defy orders anyway, right?

The con's still running, only now it's Frank who's in charge of the tables. "I know I am, boyo." He slips into the same voice he used for Atlas. "I know I am. Now run along. The grown-ups are working."

Ball was firmly in his court. Probably would be there a while, until Jack could figure out some way to try to get it back into his own. If there was any.

He flinched, pretty openly, with the accent. His first friend down there. All a fucking act. "No 'would you kindly' there, then?" he rasps, pulls himself together and starts backing out of the room. "Good. Great to know I can still muster a little dignity here."

Uh? What'd it do to you?

Not this place, lass. The place I came from. Bloody Rapture, Hell on Earth. Or under the ocean, I guess.

Why I brought me family to that God-forsaken place, I'll never know.

...........Okay, I'm sorry, your accent is just wicked freaking cool.

Wait, what? There's a place under the ocean? You live there? What's it like, some real life Atlantis place?

My accent? *typical Irish brogue* Oh. Thank ya, lass.

*barks out a laugh* Atlantis?! Aye, maybe if Atlantis was in the deepest pits of hell. Leaking, full of lunatics and madmen, and bloody near an asylum. Never shoulda brought Moira an' Patrick to such a place.

Me wife and son.

Can't help myself! Here's me, geekin' out whenever Europeans are nearby.

...Jesus. How come I've never heard of it, then? ...And why would you bring your kid and wife to a place like that? Damn. Leaks alone! Boo, leaks!

*chuckles* No need t' apologize, lass. Would you kindly, ah, try not to "geek out" too badly, all right?

Top secret. *bitterly* Andrew Ryan built it "so the great would not be constrained by the small". Used t' be all right, but then Fontaine showed up. Turf wars. Splicers. An' now my Moira and wee little Patrick are...

Eh. *holds up crossed fingers* I make no promises. Irish ones are the best.

Ahhh. One of those, Shh, The Gummint Didn't Make Nothing kind of deals? ...Also, Splicers?

...They're not... Are they?

*laughs* Oh, you've got spirit in you, you have.

No government. No religion. Ryan's a wacko. Him and Fontaine. Fontaine's dead now, though. One down, one t' go.

...Andrew Ryan. God damned Andrew Ryan. They were in a submersible under th' fisheries. He... he detonated it. Moira... Patrick...

Thank ye, sir!

Well, shit, good that one's down, but that othe--he's still living down there? Trapped in his own shit or something? Jesus.

...Oh, I didn't--God, I'm--so sorry!

~~Like Diane McClintock. Same ending, too, maybe.~~ Welcome, lassie.

Trapped, ruling over it, who c'n say? He's got some chemicals in th' air, controls the Splicers. Poor souls shot so full'a plasmids, they went insane. They're his own little army. Keeps him in power.

...I'll make him pay. I swear it for their sakes. I'm Atlas, lassie. What's your name?

~~OH SNAP /o/~~

This guy's... friggin' nuts. There's not anything you can do about it? There's not anyone else down there who can help you stop him or something? Christ! What the shit?

I don't blame you, that--Right! Carly. ...Atlas? Seriously? Like the god? That a nickname or a for real kind of thing?

Y' think I didn't try? But every person who tried got th' same end. Wiped out. Johnny was th' last one, but a nice local lassie gutted him. Poor Johnny. He was a good man.

Nickname. ~~Frank Fontaine.~~ I like it better than my real name, an' it keeps Ryan offa my back.

Yeah, right. 'Course. Duh. But. Ouch. So these crazy bitches just... wander around stabbing people for the hell of it? For--what the fuck are plasmids anyway?

~~YEAH, I C WUT U DO THAR, CREEPER >_o~~ Shit, I don't blame you. Dude sounds like he waits up in his office and watches everyone or something. Buh. No thanks.

Plasmids? I dunno how t' explain them exactly. They're these things y' inject and they let you do all sorts of things. Freeze people, light things on fire, zap 'em. It's crazy.

~~Good. Best keep to your wits, girlie.~~ Right in one. Nothin' happens in Rapture without Ryan knowin' about it. Can't even sneeze.

Dude. What? I think I just walked into a comic book. Seriously?

So how've you gotten past him all this time? Don't say it's just a nickname, don't think that's gonna hold off a determined creepazoid for long.

Seriously. Ask the boyo there about the plasmids. He's got some issues, though. *lowers voice* Plasmids must be gettin' to him, poor bloke.

As far as Ryan knows, I'm a myth. Where th' trouble is, I'm not. That's how I do it.

Wait. That other guy? He's done those? ...Is he one of those slicer, splicer things?

Clearly. Good way to go around it.

Jacky boy? A little. Don't know how much he's spliced up but if he starts sayin' something really weird, lassie, ignore him. Plasmids mess with yer head.

Thank ya. I ever meet you again, remind me t' buy you a drink. Er, if you're old enough.

*eyes him out of her peripheral, eyebrows slowly raising* So he can... do all that. Set people on fire. Freeze shit.

*smirks* Yeah. And I don't have a curfew anymore. I'd say I could drink you under the table, but. Well. Irish. Not to be stereotypical.

And more, lassie. And more. He's got a good heart, but he goes about it the wrong way sometimes. ~~Bwahaha?~~

*bursts out laughing* Aaw, lass, I think I could give you a run for your money. Or your liver.

Well, he didn't look that bad, but. I mean, those plasmid things, how you were saying it before... ~~mean mean MEAN~~

Dude, I think my liver's got more than enough abuse. Still, it can take a battle or two in the way of the liquor!

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strikes don't exist, shh >.>

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