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Post by CO on Jan 17, 2010 13:45:34 GMT -8
July 12th, 1968
Several people were gathered together on a dock in New York City. None had ever met before and each were there for different reasons, but they all had the same destination: Rapture, a secret underwater utopia in the Atlantic Ocean inhabited by the best and brightest of the world.
Jon Gibson made sure to keep his suit jacket buttoned as to not alert anyone else of the two pistols holstered underneath. He looked around at the various people assembled on the dock with their suitcases. There were families as well as single adults, some had quite a few suitcases, others, like Jon, had one or two.
After about an hour of waiting a boat arrived and everyone boarded. They tried asking the crew about where they were going, but it was all hush hush. Everyone was assigned a cabin because they were told it would take quite awhile to get to their destination.
He wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually Jon and everyone else were standing on the steps of a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean, the moon shining brightly on the ocean that surrounded them.
They started ascending the stairs into the lighthouse where a large bronze bust of a man was on the wall, a red banner that said "No Gods or Kings, Only Man" was across its chest.
Eventually they all descended the stairs and a large bronze sphere was sitting in a pool of water. "Everyone into the bathysphere please!" one of the crew of the boat said. Everyone piled inside and the sphere started to descend into the water.
A picture of a man sitting in a chair smoking a pipe was shown; the words “From the desk of Ryan” were next to him. Then the audio kicked in, “I am Andrew Ryan and I’m here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?” the picture changed to a man in the sunlight on a farm, and you guessed it, he was sweating, “No, says the man in Washington, it belongs to the poor,” a rather interesting looking picture of an eagle attacking someone outside of the Capitol Building flashed, “No, says the man in the Vatican, it belongs to God,” again, the picture changed, this time showing a large hand descending from the sky towards a scared individual outside of a church, “No, says the man in Moscow, it belongs to everyone,” this time, a large hammer and sickle were attacking that same, poor individual, before finally the first picture returned, “I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose Rapture…”
The movie ended and the screen disappeared and gave everyone in the sphere their first glimpse at our new home. “Oohs!” and “Ahhs!” could be heard from all over the sphere as the city came into view. It was alive with lights and signs, the neon lighting up the ocean all around. Fish swam over the glass tubes that were no doubt walkways connecting one set of buildings to the next. The movies audio continued to play as we floated around the city.
“A city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, where the great would not be constrained by the small, and with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well…”
A large golden statue of a man could be seen at this point, purely for decoration. As our transport continued to float on the green neon signs for some place called Fleet Hall could be seen. Finally they reached their destination, as noted by the metal cylinders that began to receive the sphere. As it passed through, certain points lit up, “All good things of this earth flow into the city,” it said. The water around our sub drained and it rose upwards into a brightly lit room.
The door opened and the man on the crew said, "Welcome my friends, to Rapture..."
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Post by danime91 on Jan 17, 2010 23:22:43 GMT -8
((Really can't think of a good place to have the security control center))
<[Ryosuke Takahara : Hephaestus : Security Control Center]>
A single red light in many began blinking as an alert bell sounded once. The man sitting in the swivel chair turned to see the large bank of monitors. "Hmm, what's this? Let's see what there is to see." He quickly scanned the monitors, focusing on one when he caught movement. The label over the screen read 'Welcome to Rapture'. "Ah, it must be the new arrivals." He observed them for a while, amused by the expressions of awe and bewilderment upon their faces. Then his face became serious.
His fingers flew over the control panel, pressing buttons and flipping switches. One could never be too sure with the new arrivals. Although the screening process to be invited to Rapture was relatively rigorous, every once in a while, unsavory characters managed to make it in. After all, he's the one who gets paid to make sure they don't make trouble for long. In the bathysphere bay, several automated turrets rotated in their wells with menacing whirring noises, the barrels of their automatic guns aimed at the gaggle of slack-jawed surface yokels below.
Ryosuke smiled a humorless smile to himself. Sometimes a little show of force was necessary in order to maintain peace and order.
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Post by turkoizdog on Jan 18, 2010 0:40:56 GMT -8
Elle watched as the people piled out of the bathysphere. Some had friends and relatives, which rushed to greet them. Others wandered off in search of a map of some sort. Unlike most Rapture residents that had arrived to witness the newcomers, Elle wasn't here to greet anyone.
If you asked her, she'd tell you she just enjoyed watching peoples' initial reaction to the place. The sense of awe, amazement, plus the comments they made to each other. "Did you see the school of fish that passed?" "Oh my god, I think I saw an octopus." "Look at all the pretty lights!" However, amongst all the amazement, a single voice stood out to her. It was a voice she had been listening for for the past few years. It was the voice of a little girl. "Mommy?"
Elle listened closely, and heard it again. "Mommy?" As the crowd cleared, she saw where it came from; a little brown-haired girl no older than six stood on her tiptoes, her back facing Elle. The slight waves in the girl's hair, the fancy pink dress that she was probably forced into by her mother... nevermind the fact that the little girl Elle looked for had straight hair and hated pink...
"Katie, is that you?" Elle asked. The little girl didn't move, but continued looking for her mother. "Mommy's here... Katie, come to mommy now..." Elle walked towards the girl, put a hand on her shoulder and turned her around.
"You're not my mommy." The little girl said, making a face. Elle's heart sank. This was not her little girl. This little girl was chubbier, and her eyes were muddy and wet. Katie was slim, and had bright blue eyes that only dulled when Elle would spend days at a time on a piece of artwork (although Elle had no clue as to why). "And my name's not Katie, it's Sharon." The little girl added, bringing Elle back to Earth from the images swirling in her mind. The girl then turned and took a few steps in the other direction before Elle heard her cry "Mommy!" and, Maryjanes pattering against the tiled floor, the girl was reunited her her mother.
Elle stood, brushing herself off and giving a meek smile and nod to the few nearby who had given her odd looks. No worry. She'd find Katie someday. But for now, she'd just roam the streets, looking for inspiration for her new masterpiece.
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Post by CO on Jan 18, 2010 19:38:59 GMT -8
Plasmid Research Center: Fontaine Futuristics
A man sat at a lone workstation in the middle of a large room. All around him were drawings of various things, some were pictures of DNA strands. In front of the man was a large vial of a strange green liquid. He had a sample in a small dish in front of him and periodically added various things from vials all over the workstation desk.
The man was so into his work that he didn't notice his assistant standing near him. After a few minutes she cleared her throat and spoke.
"Edward? Are you ready for the test yet?"
"Oh, Susan! You startled me," he said with a laugh as he whipped the sweat off his brow. "Yeah, bring in the test subject," he said as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair.
Susan nodded and left, returning a few minutes later with a young man. Edward grabbed a syringe off the desk and put a bit of the green liquid into it. He grabbed the subjects left arm and injected the substance straight into his veins.
The subjects muscles began to spasm. He hit the ground, screaming and writhing in pain. Susan went to try and help, but was stopped by Edward, who was watching the display intently.
After a few minutes the subject stopped screaming and moving. He stayed on the floor of the workspace breathing very heavily. After another few moments Edward pulled him onto his feet and helped him stand.
"First time eh kid? Yeah, first time's always a doozy. Now then, let's see your left hand," Edward said as he grabbed the test subjects hand. "Ok, concentrate son. Concentrate on the power you now have..."
The test subject nodded and started staring at his left hand. After a few moments a spark of electricity ran between his fingers. A big grin grew across Edward's face as he saw the spark. "Concentrate harder!" he called out.
More sparks crackled and then, as if his hand were a transformer, the subjects left hand was constantly surrounded by electricty. The test subjects eyes grew wide and Edward laughed with great enthusiasm and Susan breathed a sigh of relief.
"Alright now son, try hitting that light bulb over there!" This was the moment of truth, if he could transfer the electricity from across the room than this would be the plasmid breakthrough that Edward had been looking for for many months.
The test subject held out his left hand and the electricity shot from his hand to the light bulb across the room, lighting it. The test subjects eyes grew wider, as did Edward's grin.
"We've done it Susan! Electro-Bolt has been perfected!!!"
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Post by Del on Jan 22, 2010 20:07:10 GMT -8
Wyatt Johnson :: Kashmir Restaurant
Wyatt was eating dinner with a customer; Madam Klavier was her name. This woman, now well into her golden years, had been brought to Rapture in order to develop the fashion industry in the early days of its existence, and, seeing how she regularly purchased Wyatt's company, she had done rather well. Klavier was a lonely woman. Her husband had long since died, and her children left her once they became of age. Wyatt was the closest thing she had to a son, and she was the closest thing he had to a real mother. She loved him like her own; Wyatt liked her well enough. Admittedly, he was rather fond of the old woman, seeing as she was the only person the escort didn't charge for his time. Klavier had been the one who pulled him from the alleys of Rapture; she helped him establish the career he enjoyed today.
Taking a drag from her cigarette, Klavier spoke with her raspy voice, "I suppose it's time for you to go now?"
"Yes," Wyatt said, "I suppose it is." The two stood and kissed each other on the cheeks, and Wyatt began making his way towards the exit.
"Wyatt," the old woman called, "tomorrow night? Same time?"
"Yeah, sure," Wyatt said nonchalantly, "I'll have to leave a bit early to meet a client."
"That's fine."
"See you tomorrow," Wyatt said. Leaving the restaurant and entering the streets of Rapture, Wyatt headed for home.
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Post by CO on Jan 23, 2010 14:09:35 GMT -8
As Jon left the bathysphere he began to push past people in search of the "Kashmir Restaurant" where he was told he would find a map of the city and where he would be living.
On the way, he saw a woman who seemed to be harassing a small girl. "Katie, is that you? Mommy's here... Katie, come to mommy now..."
"Bunch of nuts," Jon thought as he made his way through the rest of the crowd. He took a left down the hallway that was the only exit from this room. There were stairs at the end of the hallway, which lead to another set of stairs. The walls in this hallway were a maroon color; advertisements for various things around the city were displayed. And there it was, directly ahead, a large wall of windows displaying the city in the ocean behind it, with a door that said “Welcome to Rapture” over it.
The ornate silver door rose upwards as he neared it, permitting Jon to walk into the glass enclosed walkway behind it. The walkway branched off in several directions, but the direction he needed to go was right, as indicated by the signs along the route.
Jon finally left the glass walkway and continued forward, where he went up another set of stairs and entered another tall room. Banners hung from the upper walkways on either side of the room with words like “Creativity,” “Liberty,” and “Independence” on them. The room was divided in two sections by another of those large golden man statues with an open set of double doors directly beneath it.
Jon walked through the doors to see six beautiful elevators open around the room. Others who followed Jon immediately began piling in. The elevators had no doors, which was great because it gave you the chance to view the room around you. Higher and higher he rose, taking in the sights of the impossibly grand room he was in. Finally the elevators came to a stop at the top floor and all at once the cages that kept them safe in the elevator opened.
To their right was a large purple neon sign that said Kashmir Restaurant. They went down a small hallway and through a door and entered the restaurant.
There was a small desk nearby the entrance which caught Jon's attention. He walked over to it and began talking to the girl sitting there.
"Hello darling," he said with a smile after removing his black fedora.
"Hi, are you new here?" she asked him with a smile.
"Yes I am. I was wondering if you could point me the way...
"Sure, I'll just need your name."
"Jon Gibson," he replied.
She began shuffling through papers and finally removed a map and a small sheet of paper with some writing on it. "Here is your map," she said handing him the map, "and here is your housing arrangement. Looks like you're in Athena's Glory... Ooh, you must have some money huh?" she said with a giggle.
"Why's that?" he asked.
"Athena's Glory, the lap of luxury here in Rapture. Or so the signs say, Ive never been there personally."
"Oh. Well, I'm not one to brag about my money, but maybe I'll give you a tour sometime," Jon said as he grabbed his papers and walked away. Now to find his new home...
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Post by Del on Jan 30, 2010 20:14:06 GMT -8
Wyatt Johnson :: Kashmir Lobby
"Athena's Glory, the lap of luxury here in Rapture. Or so the signs say, Ive never been there personally."
"Oh. Well, I'm not one to brag about my money, but maybe I'll give you a tour sometime."
As he exited the main dining room of the Kashmir, Wyatt overheard a conversation between the Kashmir hostess and a new arrival. The man dropped his wallet as he turned and headed to the door. Smoothly, Wyatt scooped up the wallet and strode after the man.
"Excuse me, sir," Wyatt said in his smooth Baritone, tapping the man on the shoulder, "You dropped this. And I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I'm Wyatt Johnson, and I also live in Athena's Glory; I own a penthouse on the top level. If you would like, I can show you the way." It always amused (and surprised) Wyatt when he managed to do the decent thing. If someone dropped their wallet, he usually ignored it; he would not claim it for himself -- for he was much too rich for that -- nor would he make the effort to returning it. Yet years upon years of etiquette training had drilled some things into his brain, and he was headed in the same direction as the stranger; it wouldn't be too much of a hassle to help, just this once.
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Post by Gabby on Jan 31, 2010 9:09:02 GMT -8
Dahlia || Apartment || Athena’s Glory
Little Caroline watched silently from the far corner of the dimly lit room as her mother powdered herself in the mirror. The woman was about halfway through her transformation from the earthly, glowing mother she knew into the flawless face she once was. But the little girl had never seen her mother this way; to her, she’d always been the sweet lady who only rarely opted to make her hair especially nice. Caroline – with a ratty stuffed rabbit in her arms – brought it up closer to her face in boredom and displeasure.
Dahlia’s laughter was crisp yet full, like delicately aged wine. “Darling,” she called from the mirror, “why are you hiding all the way over there?”
There was no immediate response. Dahlia proceeded to put on her makeup, small boxes and capsules clicking open and shut each time their contents found their way to her face. However, as the silence continued, Dahlia peeked around her shoulder to look her at her young daughter directly. She smiled sweetly, lips now a stark red.
“You look like old pictures,” Caroline finally chirped, voice still muffled behind her toy.
Dahlia’s features fell slightly. “Do you not like the old pictures?” The girl shrugged. The actress sighed, turned back around, and continued to apply her makeup, though with less fervor than before. It wasn’t long before she stopped once more, sharply twisting her body to see Caroline again. “Would you like to try some?”
Caroline’s brow furrowed in confusion, but her eyes sparkled in response to the offer. Her mother waved her over playfully as she got up from her chair, her silk gown cascading gently along her body. Little Caroline shuffled over, apparently reluctant, and climbed her way onto the stool. Dahlia crouched beside her daughter – who bore a striking resemblance to herself – and began to run her fingers through the girl’s dark hair (something she inherited from her father). She rested her blushing cheek on the girl’s small shoulder.
“You are so pretty already,” Dahlia cooed in her daughter’s ear sincerely. She held Caroline for a moment, looking at the two of them together in the mirror, before reaching over from some beauty products. “What would you like?” Caroline didn’t answer, instead watching intently the things her mother picked up. “How about some of this for your cheeks?”
Perhaps two hours later, the mother and daughter pair left their apartment hand-in-hand. The taller one swung a purse under her arm, while the shorter tucked her bunny under hers. They were both dressed nicely, and little Caroline now had the faintest smears of blush and lipstick across her features. She beamed up at her mother, excited and nervous to go out in public. Dahlia simply squeezed her child’s small, warm hand tighter in reassurance.
“Are we going to see Daddy?” Caroline inquired as she persisted in staring up at her mother.
“We’re going to see many people. But yes, Daddy too.”
“How many other people?”
“I’m not sure. But they are very important people, so you have to promise me you’ll be very good.”
“Oh, I will!”
The bathysphere seemed to be a little more crowded than usual; this didn’t help the fact that Caroline had never really liked them in the first place. The girl clung to her mother desperately as they all filed in. The older operator smiled generously under his thick moustache as he gazed upon Dahlia and the others. They met eyes fleetingly, exchanging grins, before he asked in a warm voice: “Where to, pretty lady?”
Dahlia chuckled under her breath. “Fort Frolic, if you would.” The man nodded and cranked the lever.
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Post by CO on Jan 31, 2010 16:38:06 GMT -8
Kashmir Restaurant
As Jon was leaving he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Excuse me, sir, you dropped this. And I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I'm Wyatt Johnson, and I also live in Athena's Glory; I own a penthouse on the top level. If you would like, I can show you the way."
Figuring it wouldn't be too smart to be impolite Jon took his wallet from the man before him. "Thank you very much," he said. "My name is Jon Gibson. It would be great if you could show me the way."
Fontaine Futuristics
"You mean you've actually done it?" the man asked.
"Yes sir," Edward said with a nod and a big grin. "Electro Bolt is ready for mass production. The equation is in the folder in front of you."
"How many times has it been tested?"
"Electro Bolt has been tested several times in twenty different test subjects of all different ages and races. It is perfect."
"Well done Edward, I have no doubt that you'll be rewarded greatly for this."
"Thank you sir."
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Post by turkoizdog on Feb 1, 2010 22:23:33 GMT -8
After wandering around the area observing people, Elle decided she knew exactly how she needed to be inspired. She would go to Fort Frolic and look at some of her past works as well as pieces by other artists. No matter how odd it sounded, even music inspired her masterpieces sometimes.
Elle first decided to stop home to change into something suitable. After all, she was wearing a simple brown dress, and she needed to blend in if she was going to Fort Frolic. Her home wasn't too far away. She changed into a soft red dress and ran her comb through her dull brown hair a few times, just to get the knots out. When she decided she looked nice enough to fit in but not nice enough to draw any attention, she left the house once more.
Elle took a bathysphere to Fort Folic and, instead of heading immediately to one of the shops, stood near the main area, looking at a painting on the wall. She had a notebook and a pen in her purse in case she got any ideas, but so far, nothing was coming to her. Nothing was coming to her. But she needed ideas, and she needed them now.
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Post by CO on Mar 2, 2010 20:40:36 GMT -8
(Lets see if we can spark some creativity out of us shall we? XD)
Fontaine Futuristics: Plasmid Theater
"Ladies and Gentlemen!", the man said on stage, "Tonight we have a very special treat for you! Tonight we unveil the latest and greatest plasmid in the Fontaine Futuristics line!" The man was onstage adressing a crowd of the richer members of Rapture, those who could invest money in the still slightly small company, and those who knew how to market items quite effectively.
"Before we get down to business, I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Edward Cylanle and his partner Susan Bishop, creators of the new plasmid."
Edward walked on stage with Susan amidst applause. "Thank you, thank you," he said with a small bow. "Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we present to you our newest product, Electro Bolt.
"When I was told some months ago that we needed a new plasmid to shock the citizens of Rapture, I knew instantly what needed to be made. Without a moments hesitation I set to work, and my boss actually asked me how I knew what I would be created and I said to him 'The new plasmid is in the sentence you just said to me. We need a plasmid to shock everyone, and we'll do just that. Electricity!'
"So Susan and I got to work and tested our new plasmid several times, and finally we got the plasmid perfected, as seen in out test subject here, Marcus." The test subject walked out onto the stage and was handed a hypo of Eve from Susan. He injected it into his left wrist and after wiggling his fingers around a bit sparks began appearing around his hand.
"Now then, when creating this plasmid we had in mind the average housewife here in Rapture. How easy would it be while cooking to just shock your appliances and have them work right when you need them to? Or if you need to light up a room quickly, just shock the bulb and itll light up for a few moments.
"So here we have our newest product, Marcus, if you would please," Edward said, motioning towards a large display of neon lights that were currently off. Marcus pointed his left index finger at the display and "Introducing Electro Bolt!" instantly sprang to life.
The theater errupted in applause and the audience began talking among themselves, but eyes were quickly drawn back to the stage as several large sparks of energy could be seen around Marcus' left hand. Edward looked towards him and Marcus began to speak.
"Thanks for the powers doc," he said with a nod before unleashing the charged up blast, hitting Edward. Marcus ran off in the confusion caused as everyone started running towards the stage. Edwards body shook for a few seconds as the electricity surged through his body, before he fell to the ground.
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Post by danime91 on Mar 6, 2010 14:04:05 GMT -8
(Ah! Something right up my alley)
<[Ryosuke Takahara : Hephaestus : Security Control Center]>
Ryosuke was distracted from the new arrivals by the video feed from the Plasmid Theater in Fontaine Futuristics. This place was of particular interest to him, mostly because he had to assess the potential threat level of any new plasmids they developed. Because for some reason they always overlooked the Head of Automated Security when it came to informing people of new plasmids in development. It always became a real mess, and those damn scientists should really have known better. He didn't even want to think about what had happened after the release of the Incinerate plasmid. If it was supposed to be meant for lighting cigars or providing a little illumination, why in the name of everything under the sea did they give it enough power to make a man go up in flames? He had to modify the materials his security bots and turrets were constructed from in order to make them fireproof, as well as making a new line of bots equipped with water tanks designed to fight fires. Who knew that fire hazards would become a problem at the bottom of the ocean?
He watched the screen intently. Electro Bolt? That didn't sound good. He watched as the demonstrator gestured at a powered down neon sign, making it come brilliantly to life. That did not look too good either. Electricity was a big no-no for him. What could bring a machine to life could also overload a machine's circuits. Someone could simply shock one of his security cameras and walk by it without a care in the world. If he was lucky, the plasmid would take a few months before becoming widely circulated among the general public, giving him valuable time to implement new security measures and start manufacturing improved security. Then the man shocked a scientist with a bolt of lightning.
Not so lucky then.
Alright, that does it! First thing to do on his day off was to find Fontaine and demand that his scientists at least notify him of new plasmid products being developed. But for now, he had more pressing issues. He immediately set fingers flying over the control panel as he brought every turret in Fontaine Futuristics to attention. Security bots began swarming out of their vents, buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. Then, just for good measure, he also shut down the vending machines in the area. No need for the criminal to be able to restock once his EVE runs out.
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Post by Gabby on Mar 16, 2010 17:30:15 GMT -8
Dahlia || Studio || Fort Frolic
“There you are, Dahlia!” shouted Eric, his tie loose and uneven, hair strands springing free of the slicking gel. Dahlia chuckled, temporarily releasing Caroline’s hand to straighten her husband up. He pushed her away just as she fixed his tie. “Where have you been?” he asked frantically. He glanced down and saw his daughter smiling up at him, lips poised to shout an excited ‘Daddy!’
“I told you I might be a little late.” She lowered her arms, her little girl’s hand instinctively finding its way back into hers. She smiled down to Caroline as if to reassure her against her father’s somewhat displeased tone of voice.
“Why did you bring Caroline?” he asked, brow wrinkling as his stress level increased. “Why didn’t you just leave her with a babysitter?”
“She wanted to see you, darling!” Dahlia admitted honestly, words flowing from her throat like thick honey. “If this is what her parents are going to do, she might as well be exposed to it now.” Eric exhaled, surrendering. He crouched down to his daughter’s level.
“Now, Caroline,” he began, eyes fleeting as he licked his lips. He was, however, interrupted.
“Mommy already told me.”
“Told you what?”
“To be a good girl.”
Eric grinned in mild frustration. “But did she tell you why you needed to be a good girl?”
Dahlia, shocked and a bit bothered by her husband’s words, interjected firmly. “Need there be a reason?”
“Dallie, please.” The businessman turned back to Caroline as he rubbed his hands together. “This is a very important day. Do you know who Sander Cohen is?”
The small girl looked up to the glass ceiling, watching a school of silvery fish swim by. “He’s an artist.”
“That’s right. The best artist here in Rapture.”
“Darling—”
“—and he’s going to be watching Mommy and Daddy today to see if he will let them help with his art. You like toys, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
“Well then,” he said, finally standing up fully, “if you want more toys, Mommy and Daddy need this job to get money. Do you understand?”
“I do, Daddy. I do!”
“Good.” Husband and wife gazed to one another, the latter far more displeased than the former. There was a pause. “Have you looked over the script?”
“I know it.”
“Good.” Eric straightened his still-crooked tie, swallowing.
“Why are you so nervous?” Dahlia inquired.
“This is our big break,” Eric admitted, stepping closer to her so that he may speak softer. “If we’re going to make it down here, you have to land this part.”
Dahlia’s brow lowered. “I thought the part was already mine.”
Her husband chuckled, slight anxiety coating each laugh. “Well, technically, you have. One of Cohen’s associates said that he reviewed your past works and was very pleased. But that doesn’t mean Mr. Cohen doesn’t have a bit of a… fickle personality.”
An elegant smile painted Dahlia’s already gorgeous lips, eyes alighting with the thought of the challenge. She tightened her grip on Caroline’s hand only a bit, but warmly. “Dear, your lack of confidence in me astounds me.”
“Dallie, that’s not what I—”
“—Mr. Cohen will be pleased with his decision, I am sure of it.”
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Post by Del on Aug 3, 2010 21:07:19 GMT -8
Wyatt Johnson :: Kashmir Restaurant
"Thank you very much. My name is Jon Gibson. It would be great if you could show me the way."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Gibson," Wyatt said, making small talk, "What business brings you to Rapture? If you don't mind my asking." Wyatt walked confidently forward, leading Mr. Gibson towards their shared place of residence. "I myself am a... businessman of sorts. Freelance of course. I don't mean to pry, I just like to know my neighbors," he said playing the perfect gentleman; after all, any new acquaintance was a potential customer.
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Post by CO on Aug 4, 2010 11:02:16 GMT -8
Halls of Rapture
"What business brings you to Rapture? If you don't mind my asking." Wyatt said as he led Jon through the cold, dim hallways of Rapture.
"I ran quite a few profitable businesses up in New York City, but profitable as they were, I wanted to work for myself, make my own way, if you understand my meaning."
"I myself am a... businessman of sorts. Freelance of course."
"Of course," Jon replied.
"I don't mean to pry, I just like to know my neighbors."
"It's no problem at all, I feel the same way. So, you mentioned you lived in a penthouse right? You must make some pretty fine money freelancing eh?"
Fontaine Futuristics: Plasmid Theater
Edward came to after what felt like months of being unconcious. Susan was right next to him, trying desperately to help any way she could. In the distance Edward could hear machine guns shooting, as well as angry beeps and whistles, and what sounded like huge bees.
"I see Rapture Security is as quick as ever. Good thing..." As he spoke, he sounded as if he were in great pain.
"Oh Edward, you're awake! The doctors from the Medical Pavillion are on their way to come and get you," Susan informed him.
"From all the noise I'm assuming Security caught our test subject?"
"It would seem so," Susan replied, slightly reluctant to come to that truth on her own as the shooting died down. "Oh, here are the doctors!"
A doctor and three nurses burst through the doors into the Theater wheeling along a bed. Edward was carefully placed onto it and was quickly rushed through the halls to the Medical Pavillion where he could recieve proper medical attention.
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