holdstilldamnit

  [Standard audio diary from Bioshock. This ain't my writing, it's only here for reference. Copyright? Not mine!]

[Standard audio diary from Bioshock. This ain't my writing, it's only here for reference. Copyright? Not mine!]

Today I had lunch with the Goddess, 'Steinman,' she said... 'I'm here to free you from the tyranny of the commonplace. I'm here to show you a new kind of beauty.' I asked her, 'What do you mean, goddess?' 'Symmetry, dear Steinman. It's time we did something about symmetry...'

[Standard audio diary from Bioshock. This ain't my writing, it's only here for reference. Copyright? Not mine!]

Aphrodite is walking the halls - shimmering, like a scalpel... 'Steinman,' she calls, 'Steinman! I have what you're looking for! Just open your eyes!' And when I see her, she cuts into me a thousand beautiful pieces.

I've been dreaming of the Goddess again. Every night I follow her through the streets of the city, chasing after her fading voice. I can only make out fragments of what she says, and when I wake she's nowhere to be found. Only the flicker of inspiration remains.

I'm more determined than ever to see my vision realized. What better place to begin the next chapter of my work than here in Rapture, away from the uninspired hacks that plague my profession? And what better time than now? Casualties of this civil war line the halls of the Medical Pavilion... those that aren't lining the streets outside. Bodies and faces twisted into exquisite shapes, just waiting for the right hand to complete the transformation.

Aphrodite threw aside industry for war; now Rapture itself follows the same course. Through this civil war my Goddess guides my hand, brings me unimaginable gifts. ... a place to start, an inspired canvas for the knife ...

The most unexpected inspiration landed in my surgery last week. Ryan's girl. She's a real doll, if commonplace. Before her injuries, her features were uninspired, lackluster. High cheekbones, pert mouth, sculpted chin – I've seen them hundreds of times of hundreds of girls. Lovely, but so ordinary.

[Standard audio diary from Bioshock. This ain't my writing, it's only here for reference. Copyright? Not mine!]

When Picasso became bored of painting people, he started representing them as cubes and other abstract forms. The world called him a genius! I've spent my entire surgical career creating the same tired shapes, over and over again: the upturned nose, the cleft chin, the ample bosom. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could do with a knife what that old Spaniard did with a brush?

Last night I dreamed of the goddess Aphrodite – beauty personified – lithe and pale and sharp and graceful. She didn't say a word, yet I knew her immediately. She reached out to me... and when she touched me, it felt like nothing I've experienced since I first began my work with ADAM. It felt electric. When I awoke this morning, I was filled with purpose, reinvigorated. Like a new man.  

What I saw in the mirror stopped me cold. Every contour the Goddess traced on my skin in that dream stands out raw and red... I've spent the last hour staring at those marks. Marveling. This is my next step, the culmination of every change I've been working toward. 

... I believe I'll cancel my appointments for today.

[Standard audio diary from Bioshock. This ain't my writing, it's only here for reference. Copyright? Not mine!]

I am beautiful, yes. Look at me, what could I do to make my features finer? With ADAM and my scalpel, I have been transformed. But is there not something better? What if now it is not my skill that fails me... but my imagination?

[Standard audio diary from Bioshock. This ain't my writing, it's only here for reference. Copyright? Not mine!]

ADAM presents new problems for the professional. As your tools improve, so do your standards. There was a time, I was happy enough to take off a wart or two, or turn a real circus freak into something you can show in the daylight. But that was then, when we took what we got, but with ADAM... the flesh becomes clay. What excuse do we have not to sculpt, and sculpt, and sculpt, until the job is done?

I saw Fitzpatrick again today. He's healing nicely, but I noticed something when we tested his range of motion. The results were as expected, yet his movements seemed so slow and lumbering. Lacking. It can't be explained by his injuries... everything has been expertly repaired. There is a fault within the structure of the hand itself.

I've been too focused on performing my common little surgeries to pursue new avenues of inquiry. I feel I should thank Cohen. The old queen may be deranged, but his fit of temper has afforded me a precious opportunity. How much more efficient I can make these hands?! How much quicker, stronger, more nimble? The change will be breathtaking. Revolutionary.

I must start my revisions immediately.

A promising young pianist came into my surgery this afternoon – one of Cohen's protégés. Quite the up and comer. I've seen him play once or twice, always old standards, but very well rendered. Seems the poor boy wasn't taking direction as well as expected and he wound up here with both hands badly crushed.

He said it was an accident, of course... based on the nature of the injuries, I find that unlikely.

Lucky for him, ADAM will speed his healing. Nonetheless, he requires my touch to return natural functioning to the damaged structures – if he hopes to continue his career, that is. I've done what I can for now. I'll schedule time to revisit his case in a week.

Cohen is starting to go off the deep end. He might be talented, but I doubt Ryan will turn a blind eye for long if he keeps pulling stunts like this.

[Standard audio diary from Bioshock. This ain't my writing, it's only here for reference. Copyright? Not mine!]

Ryan and ADAM, ADAM and Ryan... all those years of study, and was I ever truly a surgeon before I met them? How we plinked away with our scalpels and toy morality. Yes, we could lop a boil here, and shave down a beak there, but... but could we really change anything? No. But ADAM gives us the means to do it. And Ryan frees us from the phony ethics that held us back. Change your look, change your sex, change your race. It's yours to change, nobody else's.

The healing properties of ADAM are astounding: disease is becoming unheard of, broken bones knit together in hours, the direst wounds mend in days. Deformity isn't erased, of course, but the destruction vanishes so quickly. Effortless. A modern miracle of science and industry. 

Dr. J.S. Steinman is property of 2K Games, the creator of Bioshock. I'm a mere pretender to the throne. I make no money off of this drivel and doubt anyone could. If you're a rights-holder and would like me to kindly take this down, do let me know.

This journal is a creative work that builds upon the audio diaries recorded by Doctor Steinman which are scattered throughout the game. Assume everything to be in audio diary format until noted otherwise.

In lieu of pre-dating everything to 1958/1959 (which I really would prefer to do, but cannot), I've settled for randomly dating everything to appear in appropriate chronological order. I know of no resource that gives dates to the in-game audio diaries, so I've ordered them the way they seem to make sense to me. As I fill in the gaps, I reserve the right to re-arrange entries into a more aesthetically pleasing order.

(If you've seen a timeline of audio diaries anywhere, I'd love to know about it.)

Any other questions – drop me a line. If you want to tell me that I'm a cocksucking bastard who has ruined your childhood, please don't bother  – I know that far better than you ever could. If you want to tell me how fantastic I am, please do. One can never hear that enough.

Ta ta for now.