Closing Time

- Hey everyone, it’s tome for closing. I hope you guys have enjoyed writing with me as much as I have enjoyed writing with you. To those whose threads we were unable to finish, I’m so, so sorry. I won’t be deleting this account, (Since I might be reopening it in approx. 2 years time) but since it will be closed, don’t be afraid to simply drop the threads we have. I’m really and sincerely grateful for all who have written with me and I hope you all have amazing lives. 

God bless you all~

E. -

Memories of the Journey’s End (closing)

The thin old woman narrowed her eyes, as she gave her eldest great-grandchild a piercing look. “I said,” she said in a dangerous whisper, “Screens off.”

"You’re not my mom," the teenager spat, brushing her multi-colored bangs from her eyes.

"And you’re in my house Lauren," Alexa retorted, "which means you’ll follow my rules. Now, Ipad in the basket. You can get it when you leave."

With an angry huff, the young woman unplugged her headphones before dropping the purple-cased Ipad into basket. “There, happy?” she asked spitefully. 

"No, but it’ll have to do," the white haired woman said briskly. She sighed, her brow still furrowed as the two younger grand-kids pattered down the stairs.

"Gran’ma Lexie! Gran’ma Lexie!" the twins cried in unison as they swarmed around the old woman’s skirt. "Look what we found!" The two boys lifted an old satchel filled to the brim with their newly discovered treasures.

"Well, where did you find this?" she asked, fingering the satchel.

"In the attic," James, the first twin, answered.

Brows still furrowed, Lauren glanced down and tilted her head as the faded letters on the satchel glinted up at her.

"Metro Mechanics? The heck does that mean?"

"Well, come to the parlor and I’ll tell you," the old woman replied and hobbled the other room. Taking a seat in her rocking chair, she leaned back, her bones creaking as she accepted her great-grandsons’ findings.

"This," she said, holding up the satchel, "is the satchel I used after I built my third business, Metro Mechanics, best mechanical repairs in Rapture."

"What’s Rapture gran’ma?" Jon asked, his big blue eyes bright with curiosity.

"Rapture was a city built in secret at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean by a man named Andrew Ryan. I found it after being shipwrecked on the island lighthouse he used to ferry people down to his city."

"And you used it to get down there?" Lauren asked drolly as she leaned against the door frame.

"No, I used the bathysphere," her grandmother corrected, "but that’s another story." Gently she reached inside the bag and pulled out a small music box. "Oh, I remember this," she cooed, opening the box. "It’s Roland’s music box."

"Roland, Gran’ma?" James asked, tilting his head.

"Yes, Roland Russel. He was an old friend of mine and he loved music. They called him Rapture’s Sweetheart when he performed. He used to sing and dance, and the funniest thing about him was that he actually had green skin.”

"Green skin?" Lauren laughed, "Gran’ma, no one has green skin unless they dye themselves or get a tattoo.”

"Well he didn’t dye or tattoo himself," Alexa said with a shrug, "but he was definitely green. Here, this is one of his flyers." Slipping her fingers into the music box, she pulled out a tightly folded piece of paper and carefully unfolded it on her lap.

"Wow, he really does have green skin!" James cried as Jon read the writing on the flyer.

"Rapture’s Sweetheart performing February 14’th at 8PM in the Limbo Room."

Alexa chuckled. “That was an interesting Valentine’s day.” Her smile became nostalgic when she pulled out the next treasure; an empty bottle of chocolate spirits. “This was from one of the men who tried to court me. His name was Hector Rodriguez and Roland had quite a fit when I found out we had been flirting.”

"You flirted?" Lauren asked, strolling over to take a seat by her brothers.

"Yes," the frail woman confessed, "but nothing serious. Your great grandfather was the only one who earned my heart." She stopped when she saw the final treasure and slowly slid it out of the pack. It looked like a polished hard wood box with a small plaque on its front.

"What’s that one Gran’ma?" Jon asked eagerly and jumped when he heard the cuckoo chime.

"No more stories tonight Jon," Alexa croaked, "time for bed."

The boys moaned in unison as the three stood up from their positions around their grandmother.

"No groans," the old woman said, "Now off to bed!"

Once sure the three were up stairs, the former mechanic lifted the box and opened it. Soft red velvet shimmered up at her as the sleek revolver glinted in the firelight. Carefully, she closed the box and placed it on the mantel piece. Alexa fought back tears as her fingers traced the lid and she read the plaque that had been placed on its front.

"Dedicated in Loving Memory to Augustus Sinclair, Mentor, Savior and Friend."

With a choked sniff, the old woman pulled back her hand as she turned and made her way up the staircase, praying silently for all the souls she’d known who’d lost their lives in Rapture.

(Source: 4maldehyde)

Heartless | Loretta & Alexa

notasplicer:

The young woman moved over to the small pile of ammo, bundling it up and shoving it in her small bag she carried everywhere. There was also one EVE needle, which she put in the pocket of her cardigan.

Turning back to Alexa, she answered; “America. Ohio, to be exact. Came to Rapture when I was five.” She gave the briefest explanation she could, unwilling to talk about herself. Although it would make no difference in the long run - Loretta wasn’t planning on staying with the other woman for long - she still didn’t want to give away any information that the woman could judge her on. 

"What about you?" she questioned as she offered Alexa half of the ammo she had salvaged. It was only fair that they both got some.

"The states, eh?" Alexa said, taking the offered ammunition, "my mum was from the states. Main, I think. I’m a Canuck though -er, I’m from Canada. Got here ‘round.. ‘57 I think? I was planning on leaving when I could, but Mr. Ryan threw a nice wrench into that plan after Atlas blew up the Kashmir. Needless t’say I’ve been stuck here ever since."

Packing away the last of the ammunition, the mechanic stood up and dusted herself off. With the ammunition take care of, all they needed to do was scrounge some food and they’d be good to go, and that was as simple as splicing a few wires and inserting a few bills.

"Oi," she chimed, turning to her new companion, "you need any food or are you good with your stash?"

The Lost and Found// Theta & Alexa

callsign-warningshot:

I could still hear hurried footsteps as they splashed into the watery floor.  I tracked the sounds, feeling a desperation begin to consume me.  I had to reach Alexa; I had to let her know I was still alive.  I was sure she’d assumed I was dead, since I was never given a chance to communicate with her before I was taken and converted.  I had a means to convey to her exactly who I was, but I had to stop her first.

I saw the flickering lights of the corridor ahead and heard the footsteps growing closer.  I had her.

I stepped into the pathway’s entrance, and howled, putting my hands up in a gesture that I hoped would indicate I was not about to attack her.  I wanted to cry out her name, show my face to her, but my body wasn’t ready for it yet.  I could only hope what my efforts wouldn’t lead to my death.

Alexa’s skidded to a halt as the Alpha Series stepped into view and raised his arms with a bone-rattling bellow. She cupped her hands against her ears as the big daddy’s ugly voice rang throughout the halls. What might’ve normally been considered a display of surrender and good will, seemed more like a ferocious battle cry eluding a gory death to the terrified Canadian.

Desperate to defend herself, the young woman lifted her weapon and unloaded a pair of bucks at the towering behemoth. Whether they did any damage, she didn’t know but she hoped it was enough to distract the monster long enough to let her escape.

Putting her feet to the concrete, the mechanic turned and scrambled back up the hallway she’d come. Maybe there was a door or room somewhere down the left hand hallway she could take refuge in? It was dark enough to hide that kind of thing, but Alphas were fast as Bouncers in a dash and could to change direction at the drop of a dime! Would she be able to outrun it or would she be it’s drill’s next victim?

(Source: the-shipwreck-survivor)

Heartless | Loretta & Alexa

notasplicer:

Loretta thought her comment aimed indirectly towards her scars had been rude, but she bit back a crude remark and settled with a stiff nod. “Yeah. There’s a small stash of ammo over there,” she waved a hand in the general direction. “Not mine, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s around to claim it.” It had probably belonged to one of the splicers they had just killed. 

An Atlantic Express sounded good. It could take them wherever they needed to go and none of the other splicers no doubt lurking around would be able to follow. Now, Loretta didn’t mind a good fight, but that last one had been pushing the boundaries, and she didn’t fancy the same ordeal again so soon.

Alexa leaned slightly and looked over in the direction Loretta indicated. “Ammo, eh? Well, we better claim it before someone else does.” Flashing her a friendly grin, the engineer made her way down the hall and began to check the different rooms for supplies. Anything was better than nothing, though the same couldn’t be said for her skills in tact or lack thereof. Even those she’d considered close friends agreed that despite her heart being in the right place, her mouth was a little less accommodating.

"So where’re you from?" the brunette asked curiously as she filled her satchel. "I mean, before you came to Rapture." The woman hadn’t looked too old and with times the way they were, it was possible she could’ve been raised in the city. 

In response to recent events:

the-cult-of-rapture:

We would like to make something very clear to those who are bothering the new BioShock RP directory blog with anonymous asks. 

The moderators of this directory have absolutely no qualms with the new one. We are not insulted by their presence, we do not feel that we have been “stolen from” & we do not concern ourselves with how they operate. We understand completely that people are free to run whatever blog they so choose. Though we put a lot of work into our own directory, we have no reason to discriminate against another. We would ask that the mods in this community adopt a similar attitude.

Please remember why this blog was created. All of our intentions revolve around unity, openness, and plain old organization. We are not (and have never been) here to influence any sort of community structure. We’ve also tried our very best to be accommodating of every mod who’s approached us over the last year. There have been mistakes. We’re human, after all.

The bottom line is this: please stop spreading negativity, especially on behalf of someone else. It’s stressful, and worse, completely useless. Whether you’re a character mod, a directory mod, or anyone even loosely involved in this particular community, you’re not doing anyone any favors by sending hate or unwelcome criticism. In fact, you’re only hindering the friendly dynamic we hoped to nurture by starting this directory in the first place.

If anyone has any comments, questions or concerns, we invite them to contact us immediately. Conversations will be kept private as always (unless otherwise specified by the mod). Other than that, we hope everyone is content in their personal RP endeavors. 

Thank you,
The Cult of Rapture

//Okay, um, I didn’t know there was a new directory until last night and quite frankly, I don’t see what the big deal is. I mean, there are multiple character listing blogs everywhere and if anything, a new directory means more publicity for our blogs. Publicity is good - it brings followers and helps build connections between authors and artists. So bagging on a directory for being like another directory is like yelling at a phone book for… well, being a phone book. These folk haven’t done anything wrong and deserve just as much love as the Cult-of-Rapture and the other rp/non-rp blogs they support.

Heartless | Loretta & Alexa

notasplicer:

Loretta shook the girls hand, crooked fingers not quite gripping properly. “Loretta,” she introduced simply. “I know how you feel. It’s been about a month since I’ve seen another soul.” Unless you counted splicers or Sisters, which Loretta didn’t. Pathetic things didn’t even count as human beings now.

"We should probably get out of here before more splicers show up," the woman spoke, glancing around to check for more ADAM addicts. "That probably wasn’t the last of them." 

"Huh, you’ve seen more than I have then," the mechanic said and shook her hand, noticing the crookedness of young woman’s fingers. Burns scars and crooked fingers, something she should’ve expected in a town like this. She herself had seen how rough it could be, though with all the time she spent around doctors, specifically in Persephone, it wasn’t hard to pick up things that could save your life and limbs.

"Looks like you’ve had a rough time of it," Alexa remarked, releasing her hand and nodded at Loretta’s statement. "Agreed. We’d best get what we can and head back to the station. I’ve got an Atlantic express there we can use. It’s not much, but once it’s out to sea, it’s safer than hanging out here."

I refuse to die

[[Edited Alexa’s main Bioshock bio and added a new thing that vaguely details the going’s on of her life after getting back from Rapture~ I’ve also updated the Contact Roll though not much needed up dating other than names and url changes. Anyway, I’m gonna leave this here and call it a night. G’night everybody!]]

"Well, he's not much to look at when inebriated, but I have to say, you and Hector are pretty lucky to have each other."
the-shipwreck-survivor

rapturessweetheart:

rapturessweetheart:

"Hmph." Roland grunted at the comment. He kept his back to her, leaning over the railing. He ashed his cigarette, watching the teal waters as outside the tunnel.

Have each other? Please. Not when he’s out fishing for other men. Or women. Or whatever it is!” He turned, favouring her with burning eyes. “…Or when other’s are trying to reel him in. He doesn’t love me. No one does.” Turning back, he took a drag on his cigarette. “Lots of people say they love me, but what do they really love? My voice? My dancing? My purple bowtie? Fffttt…superficial. They don’t love my character, my being. Who could? I’m a damaged person…a severely damaged person. And…I don’t think there’s anyone on this forsaken rock of a planet that could fix me. And that would even want to.”

image

Before Roland’s flame of anger and hatred could have grown any higher, he found himself struck down by her words.

Since we first met?

What was that supposed to mean?

Tipping his boater’s hat back on his head a little, he took a few steps forward, back towards her.

"…Wait. W-What did you say?" The entertainer tilted his head to the side a bit, almost as if he was trying to hear better.

image

"I…" Scattered memories started to piece themselves together, like someone netting for minnows. "…Alexa. …People used to call you ‘Lexie’ when you were young, didn’t they?"

A smile flickered across the mechanic’s face as her old pet-name fell from the green man’s lips. He remembered!

"Yeah, they did," she said, attempting to keep her voice from choking with emotion. "And you did too."

She could still remember the day they met when she’d ran away from Aunt Millie and come to Ryan Amusements. She’d meant to sneak in with the other kids but had run headlong into Rapture’s Sweetheart before anything could be done. What she’d thought to have been a misfortune at the time had turned into one of the most memorable days of her life - a tiny pinprick of shimmering light in a life as shady and checkered as a burnt chess board.

image

Alexa couldn’t help but give him a small almost apologetic smile. “I mean, we were friends once…”