* 𝙵𝙰𝙻𝚂𝙴 / 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙿𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙳 !

A .  AGE: 30s.

B .  BIRTHPLACE: Mississippi.

C .  CURRENT  TIME: 2:37PM, PST.

D .  DRINK  YOU  HAD  LAST: Water.

F .  FAVORITE CURRENT SONG(S): Not sure about that. I’m always listening to something. Right now? The Black Keys. Issa Booker Mood.

E .  EASIEST  PERSON(S)  TO  TALK TO: So many people!

G .  GOALS: Get healthy, get better.

H .  HORROR  YES  OR  HORROR  NO: Yes.

I .  IN LOVE ?: Ayyyy.

J .  JEALOUS  OF  PEOPLE: Nah.

K .  KILLED  SOMEONE: No.

L .  LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT  OR  SHOULD  I  WALK  BY  AGAIN ?: Nah.

M .  MIDDLE  NAME: Alexander.

N .  NUMBER  OF  SIBLINGS: 2 brothers. Both estranged.

O .  ONE  WISH: To feel better today. Feeling a little off.

Q .  QUESTIONS  YOU’RE  ALWAYS  ASKED: What’s it like to be trans? How do you know you’re trans? Are you sure you’re trans?

S .  SONG  YOU  SANG: I don’t sing.

T .  TOP  3  FICTIONAL  CHARACTERS: I have so many more than 3, and I can’t rank them. They’re all the best. Comstock isn’t on there, though. 

U .  UNDERWEAR  &  COLOR: Currently? Boxer briefs. White.

V .  VACATION: Europe, Mexico, India.

W .  WHEN’S  YOUR  BIRTHDAY: Sept. 18th.

X .  X - RAYS: I’ve had them several times, yes.

Y .  YOUR  FAVORITE  FOOD: Sushi!

Z .  ZODIAC  SIGN: Virgo sun, Gemini moon, Scorpio rising.

❝ 'SCUSE ME, ❞ ——— Booker BEGINS, holding up a PICTURE of a small girl. Her dark eyes PEER up from the photograph, and Booker feels as if he's been SEARCHING for her for what seems like YEARS.

❝ Have you SEEN this girl? She goes by the name of ‛ Marie ’, and I'd SURE like to find her. ❞

He's not FAMILIAR with this TOWN, this PLACE. It all seems so ODD to him, and while he's not USUALLY one to feel like a fish out of WATER ——— something about this town RAISES his inner FLAGS.

❝ If she's been WANDERIN' around here, PLEASE let me know. ❞

A HANDYMAN LANDS AND NEARLY CRUSHES A MAN TO DEATH. ——— Booker's heart practically LEAPS out of his chest and into his THROAT as he wraps his arms around the MAN and then jumps for the SKYLINE. They land on a NEARBY rooftop, just before the HANDYMAN can electrocute the lines.

❝ Goddamn it, ❞ Booker GASPS, jumping off of the SKYLINE and standing the man up STRAIGHT. ❝ You alright, PAL? ❞ he ASKS, looking him in the eye, sweat forming on his SKIN. ❝ Those goddamn handymen are DANGEROUS, and I'm tellin' you ——— you can't just WALK in the PATH of one! Where’d you COME from, anyway? ❞

Booker’s brow FURROWS, and he doesn’t REMEMBER seeing the man there before. It’s as if he just ... APPEARED. He frowns, folding his ARMS.

THE AIR ALWAYS SMELLS LIKE SALT WATER IN RAPTURE. ——— Booker SNAPS his thumb and forefinger, sparking alive the ABOVE street LAMP. It illuminates him only PARTLY, his coat meeting his ankles and his hat pulled LOW. He drags on a CIGARETTE, and that's when he sees her ——— Tenenbaum.

He KNOWS that she's the TOAST of Andrew Ryan, even after all of that NASTY BUSINESS with Frank Fontaine. The orphans ... all gone. Booker simply CANNOT abide by that, and with the rumors and WHISPERS over at The Fighting McDonagh's ——— he HAS to ask.

❝ I need to SPEAK with you, ❞ he calls out, LIFTING his hat off of his HEAD. His cigarette still BURNS, and as he FLICKS it into a leaked-in PUDDLE, he tilts his head. ❝ It's about the MISSIN' orphans. I heard you MIGHT know somethin' about THAT. ❞

BOOKER STARES AT LADY COMSTOCK, AS IF HE'S NOT QUITE SURE WHAT HE'S SEEING. ——— ❝ ... Lady Comstock? ❞ he BLINKS, the sweat in his eyes making his vision BLURRY, like a late-night DRUNK. He HOLSTERS his weapon, and against his BETTER judgment, he takes a step FORWARD.

❝ I got QUESTIONS, but I'll be DAMNED if I ain't got a clue as to how to ASK them, ❞ he swallows, and yet ... he reaches out a HAND to her. ❝ The FIRST one is ——— what did he DO to you? ❞

❝ AND WHAT IS IT THAT YOU'RE IN NEED OF HELP WITH? ❞ ——— Booker ASKS plainly, folding his ARMS across his chest. ❝ If you're missin' someone, or somethin', I can ASSURE you that I'll take GOOD care of it. ❞

He OFFERS a nod of his HEAD, features FIRM but not UNFRIENDLY. ❝ If I'm not bein' too UNTOWARD ——— how did you find me? This PLACE ain't exactly in the WANT ads anymore. ❞

How TRUE that is. Booker's office is WORN-DOWN, with peeling wallpaper and SCUFFED hardwood floors. Newspapers and WHISKEY bottles are haphazard near his DESK. The BUSINESS, as well as the MAN, have seen better days.

❝ COME HERE, CHILD, ❞ ——— Comstock says with a SMILE, his teeth WOLFISH as he stretches out his arms toward Elizabeth. ❝ Well, c'mon! ❞ he LAUGHS, hearty but DEVOID of any actual WARMTH. His eyes GLISTEN ——— he doesn't know whether it is REGRET, or the actual sight of his GROWN child. The one he’s keep in TORMENT throughout her LIFE.

❝ I just want to TALK to you about a few THINGS, Elizabeth. Come now, CLOSER, ❞ his fingers TWITCH, and the apples of his cheeks are FLUSH with a hint of VICIOUS impatience, though he dares NOT show it.

❝ We have MUCH to discuss, don't you THINK? ❞

BOOKER LIGHTS HER CIGARETTE, HIS FINGERTIPS STILL BURNING. ——— ❝ You don't LOOK the sort to be HANGIN' around the likes of here, ❞ he says, then BLOWS out his fingertips ——— all thanks to INCINERATE. He eyes her for a BRIEF moment, then takes a backward step behind his desk.

With a SIGH, his hair FALLING across his brow, he picks up a WHISKEY bottle. His wrist TENSES as he pours the REMNANTS into a filmy shot glass. He takes the SHOT, gulping down the HOT liquid until he's SATISFIED.

❝ You tell ME what you want, and I might know the DIRECTION to be pointed in, ❞ he says, then WIPES his mouth with the back of one of his LARGE hands. ❝ Understand, Miss ... ? ❞

BOOKER GRABS THE SMALLER MAN BY THE BACK OF THE SHIRT. ——— ❝ Get the hell out of the CROSSFIRE, ❞ he warns, PUSHING the man back into the ALLEYWAY he's inhabiting. The Vox Populi and the Columbia Founders Police are going at it, and HARD.

Bullets RICOCHET, and vigors are being ABUSED at will. Booker looks to the man, and he FROWNS.

❝ I saw you come outta NOWHERE, ❞ Booker says, eyeing the man SUSPICIOUSLY. ❝ You came THROUGH like wind. How'd that HAPPEN? ❞

With Elizabeth MISSING, Booker doesn't have a tail-end of KNOWLEDGE as to what he's dealing with, EXACTLY. The tears, as much as he UNDERSTANDS, can only come from HER, or around COLUMBIA due to her POWER..

This MAN, however, seemed to just APPEAR.

❝ Where'd YOU come from? ❞

❝ HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN ABLE TO DO THIS? ❞ ——— Booker ASKS, watching as Elizabeth PULLS the bee from the confines of the elevator into what SHE calls a ‛ TEAR. ’ He's TENSE, shoulders rounded as he holsters his hand cannon. 

❝ That don't LOOK like somethin' we should be DOIN' out in public, if you catch my meaning. 'Specially with COMSTOCK on the lookout for you. If you take ANY advice I'm meanin' to give you, then DON’T do it. That seems like a FAST track to gettin' us KILLED. ❞