Fall of Rapture
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: AmbrosiaPudding on 06-01-2014, 22:05:01</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Fall of Rapture </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AmbrosiaPudding</strong> on <strong>06-01-2014, 22:05:01</strong>
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				All men have dreams, many have grand dreams, dreams that would change the world. Few men have enough money scratch the surface of their dreams. Among those few men, only a select few get to achieve their dreams. Andrew Ryan, bought a park, just to have it. The Government claimed he had to let citizen’s visit it. They tried to make it into a National Park. He burnt it to the ground. Soon after that, Andrew Ryan had an idea, an inkling of a society away from Governmental control. He had Rapture.<br><br>Rapture, a paradise at the bottom of the ocean. For some, a prison at the bottom of the ocean. The air, while clean, wonderful by the Forest of Arcadia that Langdon had created, provided all the oxygen they could have needed. Though that didn't stop the air from being stuffy, every breath feeling. . .used at times. At times, Annabelle felt a little trapped, Augustus had brought her down to Rapture, as he knew it would be a chance for him to expand. To build something, or perhaps as he had done on the surface, talk his way into the top. ‘Easier to be king of a small land Annie dear‘. That’s what he had told her. How he’d explained it to her. <br><br>Staring out her window, thick glass, with a beautiful curve to it, Annabelle (http://images.search.yahoo.com/images/view;_ylt=A0PDoTClGctSIigAO82JzbkF;_ylu=X3oDMTIyMTc4Z2N0BHNlYwNzcgRzbGsDaW1nBG9pZANmM2M4OTFhMGMyNmZlMmY1ZWNiNzU2YjczZTRhNzYxNgRncG9zAzMEaXQDYmluZw--?back=http%3A%2F%2Fimages.search.yahoo.com%2Fsearch%2Fimages%3Fp%3Dmarilyn%2Bmonroe%2Bin%2Bglasses%26n%3D60%26ei%3Dutf-8%26y%3DSearch%26fr%3Dmcafee%26tab%3Dorganic%26ri%3D3&amp;w=400&amp;h=273&amp;imgurl=www.thisisjanewayne.com%2Fnews%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2011%2F05%2Fmarilyn%2Bmonroe%2Bcat-eye%2Bglasses.jpg&amp;rurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.thisisjanewayne.com%2Fnews%2F2011%2F05%2F27%2Ftrend-cat-eyes-ja-oder-nein%2F&amp;size=19.3KB&amp;name=marilyn%2Bmonroe%2Bcat+eye%2Bglasses+Trend%3A+Cat+Eye+%3Cb%3EGlasses+%3C%2Fb%3EJa+oder+nein%3F&amp;p=marilyn+monroe+in+glasses&amp;oid=f3c891a0c26fe2f5ecb756b73e4a7616&amp;fr2=&amp;fr=mcafee&amp;tt=marilyn%2Bmonroe%2Bcat+eye%2Bglasses+Trend%3A+Cat+Eye+%3Cb%3EGlasses+%3C%2Fb%3EJa+oder+nein%3F&amp;b=0&amp;ni=128&amp;no=3&amp;ts=&amp;tab=organic&amp;sigr=12bpd79v8&amp;sigb=13qmo25g2&amp;sigi=12qdv6ats&amp;.crumb=wpYvUFvodxy&amp;fr=mcafee) sighed. The sound almost wistful in its nature. In Olympus Heights, high above most of Rapture, Annabelle and Augustus had wonderful views of the Ocean deep, unclouded by different buildings for the most part. Deep within the ocean, most of the fish were bio-luminescent, beautiful purple's, green's, blue's and yellow's. Though everyone could see the Ocean, if they just walked far enough, it didn’t stop them from appreciating it, from buying the painting’s Annabelle did of it. Mostly fish, the occasional graceful Blue Whale.<br><br>Pushing the thick glasses up the bridge of her straight nose, Annabelle's eyes narrowed. Her most recent painting finished with a dot of yellow. Not fish, something she'd been seeing in her dreams. A sparrow, bright blue and purple, sitting on a branch of green leaves. They might have had trees in Arcadia. They did not have birds, or squirrels, or any of the animals Annabelle remembered seeing as a child. Her eyes, looking positively magnified behind her glasses, cerulean with periwinkle flecks. Annabelle's teeth, perfect from torturous years of braces as a child, tore into her bottom lip as she carefully picked up the painting. After it dried, she'd move it down to the gallery.<br><br>Standing up, Annabelle moved with grace, the large black shirt she wore, intended for her brother, draping off one pale shoulder. The pants beneath it high, slightly too tight for her liking, the same black, were high on her waist Annabelle stepped out of her room, intending to Annabelle stepped out of her room, intending to go enjoy a drink, for the first time in a long time. White blonde hair, curly, as it was, lay on her shoulders softly. Distilled water had done nothing for her skin, thankfully they made shampoo’s and lotions in Rapture. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fall of Rapture </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lyndsey</strong> on <strong>06-01-2014, 23:30:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Lying in bed, Christine Weston (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=192866.msg9402221#msg9402221) stared out the little window of her room, watching for schools of fish that swam by, illuminated by the lights of the city beyond. In Rapture, it was always night, even when it was in the middle of the day, something the girl still wanted to gripe about every now and then. She missed the sun, but every single time she caught a glimpse of the city skyline, all thoughts of sunshine would be pushed aside for the moment as she convinced herself that it was worth missing out on the sun for the view. <br><br>A knock on her door was heard, shaking Christine out of her reverie. "Christine, we need more wine, be a dear and go pick some up will you?" The voice belonged to her mother, a tall, pale woman, with copper hair a few shades darker than her daughter's and a penchant for flaunting her wealth in front of others, which explained the many dinner parties like the one she has having tonight, that she and Christine's father hosted in their apartment in Olympus Heights.<br><br>Knowing that anything other than obedience would be more trouble than it was worth, Christine picked herself off her bed with a sigh and threw on a stylish cream-colored coat, not to look good, but to hide the more plain dress that she had on underneath. Christine did not share her mother's need to look her best all the time, though she still wanted to avoid an unnecessary chiding for looking 'ordinary' as the woman would say. Avoiding the dining room where the party was being held, Christine picked up a wad of money from the drawer in the main hall where her parents kept some spare cash, stuffing it into the pocket of her coat as she left the apartment and headed in the direction of the metro.<br><br>A short bathysphere ride later, Christine had arrived at Fort Frolic. As was usually the case, the place was full of people milling about, mostly here to unwind after a long day in one of the many entertainment venues around. Amongst the crowd were a couple of families with young children, which caused Christine's thoughts to turn to those of the girls at the orphanage where she worked. She had been trying for some time to find out what had happened to one of the girls who had seemingly disappeared off the face of the Earth after being adopted, but had been making little progress on that front, since she did not want to kick over too many, or rather, the wrong rocks in the process of her search. <br><br>Resolving to put in more effort into her search, Christine pushed all thoughts of the missing girl out of her mind for now to focus on her task at hand. A frequent visitor to the record shop in the area, Christine was familiar with her surroundings and quickly found her way to her destination - Sinclair Spirits. Pushing open the doors, Christine made her way into the bar, which like the rest of Fort Frolic had its fair share of occupants for the evening. Catching the attention of the barman with a slight wave of her hand, the redhead offered him a polite smile, reaching into her pocket at the same time. "Two bottles of your best wine please, and a bag to carry them in."<br><br>
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