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Post by Mitchell Edwin Johnson on Jun 26, 2010 15:40:29 GMT -5
"I am Andrew Ryan and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?
No, says the man in Washington; it belongs to the poor! No, says the man in the Vatican; it belongs to God! No, says the man in Moscow; it belongs to everyone!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Rapture " Somewhere beneath the North Atlantic Ocean... [/i][/center] Rapture... an underwater Utopia for those who are not bound by man or law. Where the scientist would not be bound by morals, where the censor is no longer a worry of the artist, where those who are successful would not be brought down by their petty colleagues. Yes, certainly Rapture is a thing to marvel; Where a man, or woman, can achieve their goals in peace and prosper. Of course, though, Rapture is nothing like that nowadays... ADONIS LUXURY RESORT CHRISTMAS EVE, 1958 Subject META stared outside the window, his own reflection amidst the underwater sea life that swam about down beneath the sea. His own reflection, he thought was hideous, wearing a diver's suit that was slightly rusted and damaged from at least a decade of combat. He wore a powerful drill on his left hand and had a 40. calibur machine gun on his back. They had classified him as an Alpha Series, one of the first of his kind. META, was different, however. You see, not to long ago, he was taken in for experimentation. They, more preciscly, her, took him, along with his daughter, or as they called them- little sister, to a secret facility somewhere in the older parts of Rapture. What they did to him was very simple- Tennenbaum gave him back his humanity. Although they didn't do it to his little sister, Ashlynn. Now he could think, speak, even eat like a normal human being. "Daddy~ Daddy~" shouted a little girl in a playful tone. META turned around and looked down to see a little girl dressed in a short sleeved scarlet dress, her hair done up in pigtails. This was Ashlynn. "Let's go find some angels, daddy!" she said, pulling META along. "I smell one! It's close! It's close!" META followed the little girl through the corridors, passing by generic people along the way. "Over here!" she called again. META had finnally met up with her last known location when he heard a scream. Ashlynn's scream. The metal giant sprinted down the halls, his heavy diver's boots echoing through the halls untill he found Ashlynn. There were several Splicers crowding around her, carrying various weapons. "This girl wreaks of ADAM! HAHAH!" said one. "We should hurry before her tin daddy comes along!" said another. "You're such a pussy! Man up you bitch!" a third replied to the second. There were at least five or six more around. META revved his drill and implaed one. All of the Splicers scattered and attacked at random intervals. Finnally META had killed all but two. His drill ran out of fuel, machine out of bullets. The remaining Splicers, both female, emptied their weapons into META and fled. "D-daddy...?" Ashlynn began to cry. "Please... don't leave... I'll help you..." (TO 1975! TAKE YOUR POSITIONS! SOLDIERS ONLY! YOU'RE IN A CARGO PLANE, MILITARY ONE.)
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Post by Sparty McFly on Jun 26, 2010 17:16:15 GMT -5
(OoC: I assume I'm in, so oh well. I'm incoming.)
He simply sat in the cargo plane, clutching to his M16A1 like it was a comfort blanket. The storm here was outrageous, and the turbulence was bad even for the Atlantic. In his pocket he had an M1911A1, and he kept an old Thompson with a drum mag - his own little memento of the Second World War - ended a year beforehand.
He wasn't sure what the hell he was doing here - why he was on a plane in the middle of the Atlantic. He was sure it would become clear soon.
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Spartan-777
O.D.S.T. Major
The Violent Cartographer.
Posts: 802
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Post by Spartan-777 on Jun 26, 2010 17:22:44 GMT -5
(OoC: Does Bioshock have a different timeline? Because WWII ended in 1945, and M16's didn't come into service until eight years later.)
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Post by Sparty McFly on Jun 26, 2010 19:11:58 GMT -5
OoC: It said 1975. It's that or a mistake. Let's hear what Mitch has to say about it. If it's a mistake I'll just replace the M16A1 with an M1 Garand.
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Spartan-777
O.D.S.T. Major
The Violent Cartographer.
Posts: 802
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Post by Spartan-777 on Jun 26, 2010 19:21:02 GMT -5
(OoC: No, your M16 is fine, they were in service in the 70's. But WWII didn't end a year ago, but thirty.)
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Post by Sparty McFly on Jun 26, 2010 21:11:40 GMT -5
(OoC: He said to "1975". The army cargo plane could be headed anywhere. We all know where it will end up though.)
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Post by Danny on Jun 26, 2010 22:33:31 GMT -5
(OoC: I talked to Mitch, the year of this RP is 1975. Still Bioshock timeline, just another 10 years later. So, not 1946.)
"You know," Michael yelled over the roar of the engines and thunder crashing, while fiddling with his F-1 camera, "We should get a group shot, you know, of all of us," he said, looking up and grinning, "Like a before and after shot!"
He let out a loud laugh and shoved the camera into his rucksack and brought around his M16A1, "Anyone told where we're goin?"
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Post by Sparty McFly on Jun 26, 2010 23:06:23 GMT -5
Sam looked at Micheal. "The brass never told us where we're going, or why we're going there. Think we might be headed to 'Nam, but why would we us the long way? Maybe he needs to use up his frequent flyer miles before they expire!"
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Post by Danny on Jun 27, 2010 0:04:34 GMT -5
"'Nam?" Michael yelled back at Sam, "I don't see the point, we got our asses kicked out of there two years ago,"
He looked down at his feet in thought and then rapidly looked up again, "Maybe you're right, this could be some Black Ops, you know? That would explain the lack of info."
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Post by Sparty McFly on Jun 27, 2010 10:14:47 GMT -5
"Yeah, maybe we'll be informed mid-flight. Or maybe we'll reach the destination mid-flight. Or maybe an elephant will fly outta my ass. Anything can happen!"
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Post by Danny on Jun 28, 2010 16:58:04 GMT -5
"Haha!" Michael cheered, pulling out his camera, "I like you, man," he unbuckled his seat and wattled over to a seat by Sam.
"My name's Michael," he then angled the camera around to point at the both of them, and then shot a picture, "What's yours?"
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Post by Sparty McFly on Jun 28, 2010 19:17:07 GMT -5
"Samuel. Most people called me Lucky Sam, because I got a rather bad crack on my head."
He lifted up his helmet and hair whatever he could, and furrowed his brows. To the left side of his forehead was a small little white scar.
"Happened when I was 15. Wooden doors have sharp edges. Came out fine though, even though the docs said I might die. And that's where I got the nick."
He smiled for the camera, after putting down his helmet.
(OoC: Reflects something that happened to me. When I was eight, one of my friends in Pet pulled a dick move and tripped me into the corner of a wooden door. I didn't feel any pain, it was more "Cool!" than "Oh crap!" for a few minutes. I even got to look at and toy around with the cut.)
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Spartan-777
O.D.S.T. Major
The Violent Cartographer.
Posts: 802
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Post by Spartan-777 on Jun 28, 2010 20:14:22 GMT -5
(OoC: Did you die?)
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Post by Twisted Logic on Jun 28, 2010 20:59:00 GMT -5
(OoC: Did you die?) (OoC: Yes, he's a zombie.)
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Post by Danny on Jun 29, 2010 4:01:06 GMT -5
"Damn, running into a door nearly got you killed?" Michael asked, tossing his camera back into his rucksack, "Sure you're lucky?" he chuckled.
(OoC: Reminds me of the time I cut my lip open, went into shock and didnt feel a thing. Made a biiiiiig mess.)
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