switchbladesmile: (by no means!)
[personal profile] switchbladesmile
"Never put all your eggs in one basket. Put one egg each in a number of baskets. Package those baskets nicely, label them as organic, and sell them for a five-hundred-per-cent markup. Give yourself a bonus and a week's extra holiday.

"Welcome to Desert Bluffs."

Downtown, the streets are lined with coffee shops and convenience stores. Some of them have the radio on, tuned to the only radio station that matters. A sandwich bar has its door thrown open, enticing in customers, letting out the smell of re-heated sausage rolls and the sound of Kevin's friendly voice.

Not that there are many people walking around -- it's a weekday, and not yet five. Most everyone out is out on business. A policeman patrols, whistling tunelessly, a spring in his step. A teenager skitters around, cheerfully handing out flyers. She's trying not to squint too much as the sweat rolls down her face. The desert sun is hot and dry and everywhere, turning the street into a blast furnace.

Just another day in paradise.
spliced_irish: (the man in white - that's you)
[personal profile] spliced_irish
"...Whichever way you slice it, good men died."

Fontaine finishes his little speech, and privately thanks Andrew Ryan for being so instantly antagonistic towards the kid. He hardly needs to do the work of turning the kid against him. It's beautiful, really.

Back to business. Gotta make sure the boy doesn't dawdle. When you stop walking you start thinking, ha ha ha.

"Me family's in a submarine hidden in the foundation of Fontaine Fisheries." Which means he'll have to get through Peachy, but the kid is more than capable of that. "I'll meet you there."
beyond_the_sea: (no u)
[personal profile] beyond_the_sea
[ Jason's computer is broken. Thank god or whoever else decided that the Network would be accessible via literally everything else.

A cursory glance around the room doesn't turn up his actual cellphone. But Sharon's kids always leave something behind when he childminds, and this weekend was no exception, which is how he comes to be calling the Network via a plastic toy telephone with a funny face. ]


Hey, uh...

[ He is a responsible and dignified adult okay. ]

Does anyone on here know about computers? My laptop's not booting up, and uh, I don't want to call the Tech Guys just in case. I mean, I've used it to go on [ whisper it ] on this forum thing. [ And the Tech Guys might be Bad Guys, is his unspoken concern. ]

(( Credit stuff: Setting is from Save the Earth, we're just sandboxing in it for practice. ))
questionmarking: (Default)
[personal profile] questionmarking
mark and jack see some shit dot txt

Our story so far: the story; the creator commentary

Fun-size summary )

AND NOW OUR STORY CONTINUES...
did_unkindly: (; it is raining in rapture)
[personal profile] did_unkindly
Jack is really looking forward to getting out of here.

Maybe he'll visit his parents. The farm seems like a beautiful dream compared to the broken, bloody awfulness of Medical Pavilion. He's pretty sure he never walked around in fear of drowning any second back in Kansas. Nobody tried to put hooks in his liver at all. It was nice!

He sits behind a reception desk, shaking. He knows he's got to push forward, he's going to keep pushing forward, but... give him a moment, okay? He's just been swarmed by splicers; he's found out that he has to detour around and find some kind of mad doctor just to reach Atlas's submarine. Boy. That's going to be... great. He's going to die, isn't he.

So he's regrouping behind this reception desk -- the receptionist's still here, give or take some of her head -- with the wrench in one hand and a creme cake in the other.

Munch. Munch. Munch.

Breathe, Jack. It's aaaaall gonna be okay.

Probably. Maybe.

Index, Why Not?
Scene One: He Blinded Me With Science ~or~ Stop Giving Yourself Brain Damage, Asshole
Scene Two: Telekinosis ~or~ Been Around Rapture And I, I, I, I Can't Find My Baby
Scene Three: All I Wanna Do Is [Bang Bang Bang Bang] And [Big Daddy Noise] And Take Your ADAM
did_unkindly: (. cancer and cure)
[personal profile] did_unkindly
It's been a day, it's been a day, it's been a whole damn day -- as near as it's possible to tell in this soggy excuse for a city. It's been a day since he killed Fontaine. And Jack is no closer to getting out. He's still down here. He did everything he was supposed to do and he's still down here.

All he's found is locked-down bathyspheres. Broken submarines. Even the goddamn boats are out of service. Where's Tenenbaum? Where's his fucking rescue?

Jack stares about into the greenish gloom, checks the ammo in his pistol, and then kicks and yanks off the rusting panel of a vending machine. His hands are soon full of little wires and pipes. A few seconds later, he straightens up with a grunt, and the machine gives him a tidy discount on a couple glowing hypos of EVE.

With his visit extended indefinitely, he's begun to wonder how many of them are left.

Now with chapters! )
prestopresto: (scherzo no. 7)
[personal profile] prestopresto
It's the early, sleepy hours of the morning. Even Rapture has to sleep sometime, in fits and starts, and the dusty halls of Sander Cohen's home are finally quiet.

There's a creaking of rotting floorboards, some shuffling, the clearing of a throat.

And then piano music flows throughout the house, as gentle and soothing as a truckful of live mortars crashing into a building.