Eleanor, like many young genii, viewed challenges as a game. And in her book, a heavy rock thrown by telekinesis soundly defeated a weak, sagging roof any day. Unfortunately, it's often the simplest of tasks that trouble us the most. She looked around and found a decent sized hunk of concrete, the remnants of what was once part of a wall, and looked to have been blown away by a grenade of some sort. But it's story of origin didn't really matter.
What did matter, however, was what had Eleanor scouring the whole port from top to bottom. "Come on, there's got to be some around here, " she muttered to herself. "I mean I was practically tripping on them as I came through here earlier!" Eleanor, now very tired and frustrated, was on the verge of screaming. Looking, looking, looking, it was all so monotonous. Looking for an escape from Rapture, looking for Tenenbaum, and now looking for even just the smallest amount of Eve she could get her hands on. "There has to be some bloody Eve in this place!" she yelled.
"Ooooh! Look Mr. B, an angel!" a double-toned voice called out. With speed that most humans would be incapable of, Eleanor had turned around, her hawk-like eyes locking onto the burly figure of a Bouncer Big Daddy, a Little Sister pulling him along by the hand not encased in a blood caked weapon. "I wonder why I couldn't smell him?" the Little Sister continued. She looked mildly confused and tilted her head to the side, but she was headed straight for Amir nonetheless.
In a plume of purple smoke and a flash of light, Eleanor appeared between the Sister and her intended target. The Sister was noticeably frightened, and Eleanor doubted it had much to do with her sudden appearance. It wouldn't have been the first time that a Big Sister had fought with a Big Daddy, and with an exception to the Rumbler class, the Big Sister usually won. The Big Daddy had seemed oblivious to her until she scared the Sister, now hiding behind his massive leg. The light in his helmet stayed a calm yellow, but the drill leveled directly at her nose was sending a clear message. 'Back off, or get a new hole in your head.'
Eleanor's first reaction was that she should probably save the overly aggressive brute's Sister. She knew her father had done it many times. In theory, it was simple. You kill the Daddy, take the girl, and prest-o change-o, you send her on her way. But standing there, starring the Big Daddy down, glowing helmet to glowing helmet, she wasn't sure if she could do it. It wasn't the physical part that had her worried, if it came down to it, she could kill him before he knew he was in danger. But every time she looked at that Sister, hugging his leg, her resolve dwindled. All she could see was herself and her own father, all those years ago. The happiest time of her life.
"Oh crap!" a voice boomed from her rear. Spinning 180, Adam needle raised to block any oncoming blows, Eleanor was faced with the sight of a half-conscious but terrified Amir, eyes darting from the tip of the needle poised precariously close to his nose to the revving drill of the Big Daddy. The Big Daddy gave out a monstrous growl, and Eleanor recognized the sound of the drill's engine just in time to turn around and get a crushing blow to the stomach. She was sent flying into a barrel, spilling an oil slick over the ground while managing to drenching herself in the process.
The Big Daddy was backing up slowly, keeping Eleanor in his peripherals as he aimed his drill at Amir, all pretenses of a threat gone as his helmet light had switched to a glowing blood red. Eleanor's only luck was that, as a defender, he felt he could better defend his charge by getting her to a nearby vent before the fight really started.
Standing, Eleanor tried not to wince at the pain. Probably a broken rib, she thought. It took only seconds before the pain ebbed enough for her to breathe comfortably again, and then she took a step towards Amir. The sound of shattering glass met her ears. Confused, she looked down at what she'd just stepped on. A viscous, blue liquid was sticking to the bottom of her metal boot, the shattered remains of a glass syringe scattered throughout. Eleanor simply starred at it for a moment; then she screamed.
Alice was recovering slowly but surely, multicolored spots of light dancing before her eyes. They're so pretty, she thought. It's like stars put on masks and went to a birthday party. She was laying on the cold floor, completely lethargic, thoughts not even nearing something coherent. Her hands were numb; she didn't know why, and she didn't care. Her stomach felt strange too. And come to think of it, she didn't feel that well in general. This was a very strange feeling for a Little Sister, seeing as how they didn't ever not feel well, except when their stomachs would cramp when they didn't get enough Adam.
A few more minutes passed, before she got a brilliant idea. I guess I should probably get up. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, yawning as she did so, and looking around in the dark as the dots of color began to fade from her vision. "Oooh!" Her hands went to her stomach, painful cramps coursing through it again and again. "But I already gave you Adam!" she yelled, pouting at her stomach.
There was a pins and needles sensation in her hands, but it was hardly even noticeable when her stomach felt like it did. The very idea of being sick to her was frightening, and though she couldn't quite remember how she'd gotten to where she was or why she'd gone there, she decided that she should probably tell Big Sister that something was going on with her. She took a couple of steps, but was soon overcome with nausea. She wasn't even able to make it out the door.
Her head began to swim as she lost her balance, falling down onto her knees, catching herself with her hands just before her face was about to collide with the floor. It was then that she noticed the thin layer of frost covering them both. A cold sweat was forming on her brow and her arms were shaking. She tried to wipe a strand of hair in her face away, only to realize that her hands were frozen solid to the floor. That was when a fresh wave of pain flared up in her chest. It was also then that her stomach purged itself. More than half of the substance passing through her opened mouth, was blood.