Re: Quicklog, Bioshock: Elena M & Cris M
[She was there. He didn't wait for her nod.
He moved, water parting around him, oceanic vinegar as silk, washing away, lapping at a sodden mattress curled against rock. Through there, through a room dry and dusty, boxes with insignias stacked by some aerodynamic machine with chrome gears and molded steel. Up a ledge that looked over the submarine bay, through the so-called control room, into a tunnel of hydraulic machinery and pipes as thick as trees, and from there, into the submarine bay itself.
Their way out.
There was some relief in the realization, but no victory. Elena had tipped Cris' world into chaos and he had to prepare himself to step back into it, to find some time somewhere to process what he'd seen here with seeing his daughter, finding out what happened with his partner, Sam and her ex-boyfriend, all of it, and he was tired in a foreign way. A man with a lot of energy, the strain of stress only got to him after a long erosion, but the pressure, like the kind that turned coal into diamonds, had him, and he felt the grit in the corners of his eyes less like precious gems and more like sand.
Now Cris stopped, seawater dripped from black cuffs onto black shoes onto cracked stone. He pulled his gun out from where it had been (poorly) stored high up on the pack to keep it out of the water, and he looked at the submarine itself.] Let's go.