Fourth Baptism [Action] (backdated to the 29th)

[amonglions]

[December 29th, 1890. It's a date that's forever seared in Booker DeWitt's mind as being a day he takes his drinking very seriously.

When he started drinking, it was to forget what he had done on that very day - another solider handed him a half-empty bottle to help him sleep and the rest, as they say, was history. Booker drank to forget and to actually get through a night without having horrifying, bloody nightmares. He knew he deserved to have them but he couldn't go without sleep without going absolutely insane. Drinking kept him going on a day to day basis more often than not.

He'd done well to avoid people today and consumed far more than was average of bottles of whiskey for him. Normally he would ease back a good sixteen beers through the day, a shot or two of whiskey interspersed - but that was when things were good. Today was probably one of the worst: this and the day he sold Anna were anniversaries he made a point not to remember. December 29th was a whiskey only kind of day.

Unfortunately for the world, Booker never had the Vigors at his disposal on this particular anniversary. Being in a city didn't allow him the freedom to just start doing what he liked because he was bored and... well, call it stubbornness or just simple ignorance but Booker won't go near the Battle Dome if he can avoid it. As such, he's improvised a little shooting range of sorts - setting up old empty bottles as targets to pick off and distract himself by doing so. If he had an unlimited supply of ammunition for his pistol he would use it but seeing as how he just found some genuine Salts in the Items shop before Christmas...

well he decided it'd be a good time to make sure he wasn't getting rusty with them. At least, that was his reasoning.

Three rows of bottles set up, each higher than the other on whatever he could find outside to stack them on. Booker sat himself on a fallen log and tried firing off a couple of practice shots with Devil's Kiss to see if he was at a good range. The sound of his hand igniting and the heat the flames gave off were by now familiar. The imagined pain of it the first time he had watched the flesh drip off his fingers was a distant, unpleasant memory now - one he didn't even entertain as he formed a molten ball of fire in his hand before launching it at one of the bottles.

Or at least, what he thought was one of the bottles. The Devil's Kiss Vigor had an explosive property however, and Booker heard the satisfying crack of glass that allowed him to think his aim was as good as it usually was.

For a little variety, he next brought up Shock's Jockey^*. The rocks - he assumed they were rocks - jutting out of his hands snapped electricity between their points like a whip being lashed and buzzed as if an angry hornet's nest were inside. Booker's veins glowed with the unnatural pale light before he sent the Shock Jockey towards the row - it hit, thank God. But poorly.

He was an outright mess and libel to either hurt himself or someone else if he kept this up.]

^*(ooc [spoilers?] : For my version of Booker, he did not let Cornelius Slate live. That was just the only video I could find for the Shock Jockey. >>)

Comments

[amonglions]

What?

[Booker snapped irritably, put off by the look Gai carried just as quickly as they'd managed to have some kind of conversation on their own terms. He wasn't stupid - he had eyes and he could see the crust of crystals on his face plain as day. It didn't exactly register, though. Booker knew they were different things, but either he didn't have the faculties to make any kind of sense of why Gai was staring or he just didn't care.]

[voidseeing]

[That sharp response is all it takes to snap Gai out of it. The moment of vulnerability is gone, and that casual smirk is back in its place almost as if the whole thing had never happened. Really, he doesn't think he needs to explain why the sight of those crystals suddenly appearing on Booker's hands would bother him. If Booker can't figure that much out for himself, he doesn't feel all that inclined to spell it out for him. It was bad enough that Booker had had to carry him home after he'd passed out from the effects of the virus upon returning from his last mission.]

I'm surprised that doesn't hurt. Either that or you've already managed to numb yourself to the pain.

[A slight jab at the very obvious drinking Booker has been doing, if he wants to look at it that way.]

[amonglions]

[The sad thing is, Booker doesn't know himself if this should hurt or not. From Elanore's talk, he thinks it should but...maybe he's just gotten used to it? Started ignoring how his hands would be so easily torn up or peeled apart for these Vigors - if it was just a hallucination or it was actually happening.

He never had the idea to even ask Elizabeth what it looked like to her.]

Either way, it does the job.

[Carefully dancing around that.]

[voidseeing]

[Honestly, if Booker were to say that, Gai would understand. He was much the same way with his own Apocalypse Virus, after all-- he'd grown so used to the constant pain that his pain tolerance was no doubt off the charts as a result. By this point, he's pretty sure that he no longer has a sense of scale when it comes to pain.]

So can anyone use these things, or are there special qualifications for them?

[amonglions]

No hoops to jump through, you just got to be stupid enough to drink it.

[He certainly was.]

[voidseeing]

[Gai shrugs, tossing his hair back a little to reveal the crystals on the side of his own face.]

Thanks, but I'll pass. I'd rather not find out what it does to people who already have crystals growing out of them.

[amonglions]

[Booker raises his brow in a quick up-down motion at the crystals. He didn't understand them very well but he knew he was glad Gai didn't try to drink the bottle to spite him. Vigors weren't fun by any means and he'd try to stop anyone who wanted to take a swig of it.]

Good choice.

[voidseeing]

Besides, I can handle myself just fine without those.

[Now that he's seen what Booker can do, it's only fair that he return the favor. His display might be a little more alarming than Shock Jockey was, however...

There's the briefest flash of silver light illuminating his chest as Gai reaches up and, without further ado, plunges his own right hand into his chest. The action isn't a comfortable one - the grimace on his face as he does so is evidence of that much - yet it doesn't appear to be hurting him, either. But if Booker finds that disturbing, it's likely nothing compared to what Gai does next: he yanks his hand back out and in the process withdraws a strange yet clearly-identifiable gun from his chest.

Booker isn't the only one with weird powers, that much is for certain.]

[amonglions]

--the hell?

[Is all he mumbles out before Gai just up and digs a hand into his chest and whips out a gun like it's nothing. Half of Booker isn't as shocked as he'd like to be and the other half is pretty sure he should set down the bottle for good if this is the shit his brain is starting to come up with now.]

...Well there's somethin' you don't see everyday.

[voidseeing]

Consider yourself lucky. You wouldn't want to have one of these.

[He lowers his hand down, settling the gun into his arms as that silver glow vanishes almost as quickly as it had appeared. Considering that he just pulled it out of his chest, he looks quite calm about the whole thing, and decidedly uninjured by it either.]

[amonglions]

Doesn't it hurt?

[Because son it sure as hell looks like it.]

[voidseeing]

[Gai's answer comes in the form of a slight shrug.]

No more than yours does.

[amonglions]

Touché.

[Booker shrugs as well. Not much to say to that that hadn't been said.]

[voidseeing]

[He holds it for a moment longer before releasing his grip on the gun and allowing it to dissipate back into his body in ribbons of glowing silver. No point in keeping it out when he wasn't using it, especially given the fact that it put a strain on his body.]

It's called a Void. It's an idea given corporeal form-- the shape of a person's heart.

[amonglions]

And yours is in the shape of a gun?

[This? This is his: "A city at the bottom of the ocean?" face.]

[voidseeing]

That's right.

[A gun for someone who had spent almost their entire lifetime fighting. How much more fitting could you get?

And yes, he knows what it says about him-- the look on his face should make that much clear.]

[amonglions]

Huh.

[There is literally zero judgement in that bemused noise. Literally. Because he wouldn't exactly have the most flattering Void-thingy either.]

[voidseeing]

Too bad there's no way to see what yours would be.

[He detects that lack of judgment and will raise you a slightly snarky remark.]

[amonglions]

[Booker doesn't want to know what his would be. At all. Ever.]

Yeah, what a shame.

[He sees your snark and raises you highly bitter sarcasm.]

[voidseeing]

I doubt it would be any worse than mine.

[There's Gai's own lack of judgment, making them both even. He'd be a hypocrite to judge Booker for something like that and he knows it.]

[amonglions]

[....Why do you have to be likeable Gai?

He seriously hopes his would be worse than Gai's. Not because of any sense of competition; no. But because he wanted Elizabeth to...have something different.

If they really were so similar, he pities Elizabeth.]

Well that's one thing we're never gonna know.

[voidseeing]

["Likeable" isn't a word that many people would apply to Gai, in all truth. Generally, the people who like him are the people who are the most similar to him... as to what that says about Booker, well. The two of them really are two peas in a pod in the most depressing of ways.]

That's probably for the best.