Assorted Roleplays

[FaithWynters]

This is the thread created to include the three roleplays featuring: @Wastes Storyteller and @FaithWynters
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"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!

Welcome to Rapture. A city where the artist can roam freely, the scientist can create with the sky as the limit, and the power is with the people. Such a place could never exist on land therefore it was literally built on the bottom of the ocean, as far away from the governing powers as possible. Out of every jurisdiction. The extreme of extremes. It is a massive place with buildings that tower over head and long walkways that link different areas of the city together.
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Everything you could ever want you can find in Rapture. There are stores, restaurants, hotels, spas, housing units, art galleries, markets, sports centers and for those who enjoy a little bit of nighttime excitement there are bars and love-houses. Everyone is welcome in Rapture! There are no minorities. Everyone is equal. Everyone gets a fair share.

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All of this is thanks to to the hard work and dedication of our founder Andrew Ryan!

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[FaithWynters]

The thick sound of dishes clanking against themselves was ever-present in the room. At this time, the smell of bacon and eggs wafted pleasantly through the kitchen and the dining room, and flung itself outside at any chance it got. There was a vast diversity of the people that sat around the room. Some of them took up shop in old and broken down booths, others sat at the counter. Each one—whether they were a regular or not—had their own place within this ecosystem. The soft sound of jazz played on the radio in the corner. Many spoke over it and ignored the others as they paid for their meal or they came in through the door. No matter how many heads sat down, there always seemed to be room for more. There was always the quietest of rumbles as the old dishwasher in the back fought to keep itself together and continue doing its job. It was always prominent in the background, no matter how many men talked or women laughed.


Today was a day that seemed to be one that tested the lengths of the dishwasher’s power and the building’s occupancy. Waitresses moved rapidly around the room, beautiful smiles on their beautiful faces. Each one had a task, and no matter who had settled into their booths, they moved as quickly as they could to assure their tables were happy and their tips were nice.


“Door!” The word was shouted over the quiet chatter of customers. Over and over again, the word was called out, and the swinging door that led into the back swung open with a force to knock anyone over. Trays of food came out at an unbelievable rate, but that’s what kept people here. This diner wasn’t here for the amazing food—even if the patty melt was damn good—it was here because people could get in and out quickly and the warm eggs that came out were acceptable. It was a pretty greasy spoon. In fact, it was probably the greasiest of spoons in Arcadia, but as long as the food came out hot and fast, no one seemed to mind.


“Door!” Dark hair flashed out of the back room, and into the dining area. The tray was almost too large for her small arms to carry safely over the heads of patrons, but she managed. She came to a stop at a table with two men; they must have been pretty hungry. “Alright.” Her voice was pleasant against the harsh background noise that surrounded them. “I’ve got a breakfast platter—with a coffee.” She smiled as her hands lifted each object from the tray and down onto the table. “And an omelet, toast, grits, hash browns, and sausage.” She glanced at the men that looked back at her with greedy eyes. Their faces were smudged with dirt and sweat. They had probably been on the night shift in Neptune’s Bounty; they had been keeping men fishing day and night to provide for the city. Thick rings of black hung beneath their eyes and they weakly smiled at her. She could tell they were ready to go home to their wives and sleep. More importantly, they were ready for their food, and each moment she took was another moment that they had to wait before they ate. Quickly and quietly, she laid the food out for them. “If you gents need anything, just flag me down, alright?” She left them with a smile as she turned and flitted toward the kitchen again.


“Ellie! Can you take the coffee around?” The deep guttural voice behind the flattop called to her. This was only her second week in this particular diner, and very early on they had learned her name. She walked quickly across the kitchen and picked up the glass pot of coffee.


“Are my three eggs over-easy with hash browns done?” Her eyes caught the dark tile as she made her way past the dishwasher and door to the broom closet. They had learned her name because she never stopped, she took orders well, and she earned the money she took home at the end of the day.


“They’ll be done when you get back.” That’s all she needed to ear.


“Well make it quick; I clock out in twenty”


“You work yourself to death, girl.”


“Door!” She called out the word and escaped back into the front, pot of coffee in her hand. One more round of coffee, and she was running around again to ensure she got the tips she deserved.

 

[Newson]

There were many shops and stores in the areas of Fort Frolic, if you can look past the strange work of Sander Cohen, that you could visit. Art shops, music shops, Sinclair's Spirits where you could test the finest of wines, Rapture Records where you could listen to the smoothest of jazz. This was Fort Frolic. And these were the jobs I worked at.


I worked from 8 to 12 at Rapture Records, usually as a cashier or stock boy, then from 12 to 4 I worked at Sir Prize, where I had to walk to the Lower Plaza from the Upper Plaza. Then from 4 to 10 I worked at the Cocktail Lounge, where I had to walk even more from the Upper Plaza to the Southern Mall, where I worked as a bartender and I "served up spirits" from Sinclair's Spirits, that's at least where the boss says he got them. After I leave at 10 and the next bartender goes in to work the night shift of 10 to 3 in the morning. Fort Frolic is one of the many places for jobs, but I don't think I will ever work at Neptune's Bounty or Hephaestus, the heavy duty working life is not for me.





It was around 9:42 PM at the Cocktail Lounge and people started coming in for a night on the town. But only the rich and famous, a poor worker such as a one from Neptune's Bounty wouldn't be caught dead in here. One because they would be ridiculed and laughed at by all of the other rich folk, and two they wouldn't even be able to get enough money to buy their way into the place. I started shaking and stirring various cocktails for the people that would walk up to the counter, as they asked I gave fast. That's one of the reasons I was hired.


10:00 PM rolled around and I clocked out through the back as Wilson walked in through the back door as I was about to walk out.


"Good luck, they're thirsty tonight." I say to him as I walk out.


"Don't worry, I got enough sleep." He says as he walks through the door to the bar and automatically started serving people.


I kept walking through the door as he said that, I was never that well of acquaintances with Wilson and I don't really wish to be. I walked past other people heading for drinks and dancing while I head to my apartment in Apollo Square for a night of sleep. I traveled through the Bathysphere station to Apollo Square. Others like me were heading to their apartments, I took the elevator up to my apartment in Artemis Suites, a place for lower class citizens like me. The opposite of Mercury Suites, the place for high-class people like Sander Cohen. That man can live a fancy and colorful life. I walked to my door of my apartment and unlocked the door, as I walked through, several other people walked out for the night shift. Rapture was a place that is always moving and bustling, I would say this is the city that never sleeps.


(Sorry, towards the end I started to rush to finish because I was strained on time.)

 

[FaithWynters]

There hadn’t been a day in this place where I’ve made it out of work on time. Usually, I end up strolling out of the back door of this place, my tips securely tucked away, a quarter of an hour after the clock rolled over and the next shift came in. Tonight was different. No matter what time of night it was, whether it was the five o’clock shift coming in, or if it was the red-eyes coming in, breakfast was served. Every hour of every day, there was a man in front of the flat top, cooking up pounds of hash browns and fish from the wharf. That didn’t stop at my shift, or anyone’s shift. It was obvious when a girl didn’t come in for work, because the rest of us could feel the strain it had on the well-oiled machine of service. Sure, more tables meant more tips for me, but I had no intentions on staying here after ten. I was tired just like all the other working people in this tiny little diner.


So, my shift continued well past ten o’clock, and seemed to roll through eleven. It took them a good two hours before they could call someone in; by that time the manager was having a fit—they didn’t particularly care for paying their girls time and a half for overtime. I didn’t complain though, because time and a half meant more money to pay for food and bills. That was an important.


I wouldn’t complain about some sleep at this point either. Sixteen constant hours of running around for other people did get pretty tiring. Yeah, breaks were allowed, but not required, and the only stops I took were to get sips of water from the faucet in the back; you weren’t supposed to do that, but I did it anyway. It was all okay though, because tomorrow was the only day off I had acquired in the time that I had been with the diner. Since I had started working there, they had to shell out so much more overtime than what they had to pay with any other girl. So, in order to avoid having to do that as often, I assumed they had just added in an off day to counter-balance some of the cost. That was fine too. I had other things I could be doing.


So, when I punched out my card, it read 12: 18 AM in large bolded letters. Time seemed to have flown. I let out a quiet groan and my head leaned forward to rest on the large wooden box on the wall. My legs were only now beginning to ache, and the walk back to the apartment was not a pleasant one. It wasn’t far away or anything, but you had to be careful that you didn’t get mugged of all your dough as you were making it to your home. I had only ever had a problem when I was younger. The money they had taken from me had been picked from some obviously-lost business man that had gotten off at the wrong bathysphere station; that had been his mistake. I was beat up about losing that money when it happened, but by this point I had realized that you just can’t win them all.


“Ellie!” The voice shook me out of my half-dazed rest. I picked my head up and looked around the kitchen. “I made you something for the road; you’ve worked hard today, girl.” I turned around completely and smiled at the bag that sat pleasantly on the counter. In thick black ink, the name Ellie was written on the white paper.


“You know you didn’t have to do this!” I was pleasantly surprised at his generosity. I walked forward, took the bag, and looked inside. A quiet groan escaped my lips. Before the bag had even opened all the way, I could smell the pleasant aroma of a patty melt. Glancing up at my coworker, I smiled. “Thanks so much, Rich.” I clutched the bag in my hands and made it toward the back door. I pulled my hat off the rack, and slipped it securely on my head. Rich continued to watch me as I put my hat on, his face was a mixture of a pleasant smile and something else. It was some undertone that I couldn’t really understand. I just gave him a wave, and he turned back to the flat-top.


It wasn’t soon after that I escaped out of the back of the diner, and out toward the closest connecting tunnel to The Drop. The outer air always smelled of some sick mixture of fish and metal; it wasn’t pleasant, and the longer you worked in Neptune’s Bounty, the more evident it got.


Soon, my feet were making dull metallic thuds on the walkway through the beautiful glass tube. The sea was a beautiful color at this time of night—a deep blue green that seemed to go on forever in all directions. There weren’t many clocks in Rapture, because the city never seemed to stop going, but you could tell what time it was by the color of the ocean. Around noon, when what little bit of light from the surface made it to the deepest parts of the sea, it was such a vibrant blue color, but the later it got, the darker that sea around you was.


No matter what time of the day it was, it was beautiful. I quickly walked toward the next area, passing silently by a drunken man that lay out silently on a bench. He wasn’t bothering anyone, and he seemed to have passed out before he could make it home. I cast him a soft glance—even though I knew he wouldn’t see it—and I continued on toward my home.


It had taken me another good half an hour to get home. Late at night, the bathyspheres weren’t really ones for being in a hurry, so the small wait at the station made me a little uneasy. I now walked silently into my apartment. I could see the thick form curled up on the couch, but I knew he had been a sleep long before I arrived. As silently as possible, I walked around the small living room area, and back towards my room. I could enjoy my patty melt and sleep there. I had the day off. Now that I was home; I could really enjoy that thought.


(Yeah. Same. I wanted to get this to you before I went to school)

 

[Newson]

After two minutes of sitting in my bed watching animals of the sea swim by my window, I start to wonder how they build this place. I mean, there is a lot of water in the Atlantic Ocean, you'd have to keep all of that at bay while you built an underwater city. Andrew Ryan must have been a pretty rich guy, definitely unlike someone from my family line. I stared at the assorted art that hung from my wall, some of them were housewarming gifts from the neighbors, but other than that I bought them from Fort Frolic on break, they spruced up my room and gave me something to look at and think about.


I flip on my bed, still on top of the covers that are a dark shade of blue, kind of like the ocean at night. I look to my radio on the nightstand at the side of my bed. I tune into the only radio station in Rapture where they play all of the best hits apparently. That's when my favorite band came on, The Ink Spots, those singers can sing so melancholy but so beautifully. Their song "If I Didn't Care" was very popular with the radio, and one of my favorites. Then I started to hum along, the radio was the only thing that kept me on this world, the music, the rhythm, it kept me from dazing out and looking to the stars.


"If I didn't care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end with just your name? And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare... Would all this be true? If I didn't care for you..." Buzzed through the radio as the track stopped. I smiled at the thought that I wasn't the only one listening to the smooth sounds of the radio.


That's when I drifted off to sleep and dreamed of ancient pirates fighting to find Atlantis, knowing that I am in it, the new Atlantis. And Atlantis is called Rapture.


I jolted up from my bed, still in my work clothes, after a nightmare about the city sinking to the depths of the sea. The radio was still playing and this time it was playing "Beyond the Sea" by Bobby Darin.


"Somewhere beyond the sea, somewhere waiting for me. My lover stands on golden sands... And watches the ships that go sailing... Somewhere beyond the sea, she's there watching for me... If I could fly like birds on high... then straight to her arms, I'd go sailing..." Buzzed the same way the Ink Spots did.

 

[Newson]

(@FaithWynters?)

 

[FaithWynters]

It didn't take long for me to get comfortable. I sat silently on the edge of my small twin-sized bed. I ate in silence, listening to the sounds of things hitting the walls on every side of our apartment. I had not seen mother, but it wasn’t like her to really stay up and wait for me; I wasn’t a child anymore. She usually waited for Papa to fall out of his drunken induced stupidity and into sleep. Then, she would pick up her things and clean up the mess from dinner. She would enjoy a shower and change her clothes. Then she would sleep. She needed as much rest as she could; this life was harder on her than the rest of us.


I cleaned up the trash from my room, and made my way to the bathroom. There would still be preparation involved with getting ready for tomorrow. I had decided to treat myself. I cleaned my body vigorously, as if I could wash away the deep brown mark that splotched harshly up my stomach. From my left hip to just beneath my breast, the bruise painted my skin, but I tried to wash it off anyway.


I was never able to wash the color away, and when I returned to my bedroom, I hair was wrapped in tight curlers. Tomorrow would be the day to get dolled up and enjoy Rapture for all the culture it had. I smiled at myself in the mirror for a moment before turning and pulling myself into bed. It took no time before I was asleep.




“Get the fuck out!” The shrill voice of a woman broke through the silence. I woke with a start and almost ended up falling out of the bed. The voice continued to scream; it was muffled by the walls. My heart pounded in my chest; I had never awoken to such a noise before. It was frightening; it was unfamiliar. “You lowlife!” The words were harsh, but they were ended with the sound of something hitting a wall hard. The voice wasn’t that of mama’s. A baby started crying somewhere in another apartment; that’s how thin our walls were.


I pulled myself out of my bed and walked silently toward the living room. I was still in my sleeping clothes; the clock read 7:12. It wasn’t the best time; I had been up far too late to be able to get up and start my day. I would be able to make it. So I walked quietly through the living room—Papa was gone from the couch—and into the kitchen. The warm smell of eggs wafted through the kitchen. I couldn’t help but smile. A quick jazz number played through the radio in an attempt to keep out the noises of the other tenants; sometimes it was successful.


“Good Morning, Ellie” Mama appeared from my parent’s bedroom, a soft smile on her lips. Papa would already be at work; we could relax. I came to sit quietly at the table, picking up a plate and making dressing it up with eggs. There was nothing else; we couldn’t afford meat at the time. “Are you meeting someone today?” She walked around me and tenderly squeezed one of the curlers in my hair. She let out the quietest of sighs; Mama had been asking me that for years now. Every time I came out of my room with curlers in my hair was another day that I might fleetingly take someone’s heart.


“I made quite a few tips last night.” It was the way I always explained my going out. It was true. I had every bit of a hundred dollars to spend on myself, and I still had money to give Mama for food. I had left it on the dresser in my bedroom.


“I’m gonna go out and enjoy myself.” I smiled to her, and took a small drink of tea. It was warm on my throat and I hummed softly.


“Oh…” The soft call was the same any time I went out. She didn’t like me leaving here without her, but we both knew that I had to live my life. That was another conversation though, and I ate the rest of my meal in silence.

 

[Newson]

(I am sooo very sorry! I forgot because I got caught up with other things! I am going to respond now!)


I listened to the radio for a few minutes more, just listening to the gentle static and the soft jazz playing through. I looked up at the walk clock and the hands pointed to read out "7:15". I must have slept through the wave of workers heading to none other than work, that is a hard thing to miss. I crawl out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom. I look in the reflecting mirror and see that my hair is pushed and stuck in many different places than it is supposed to. I'm in for a fun time getting this in style.


After about 10 minutes, I have took a shower, combed my hair and used several ways of keeping your hair in place from the mouth of one of my bosses. I step out of the bathroom with clean hair and clean clothes, the newest in style. If I wanted to keep my job as a cleaner at the boutique, I had to look good says my boss.


After a break to take time and make eggs and other assorted breakfast foods to eat and to look out the window to watch my favorite TV station, Fish Central. Large whales slither by along with tons of fish. Life in Rapture for me is a never-ending cycle. Wake up, eat, go to work, come home, eat, sleep, repeat.


But today was my day off.

 

[FaithWynters]

The city always pulsed with the newest and smoothest jazz. Beautiful melodies flowed out of every radio on every corner. If one were to look in, the places that I went would have seemed like pretty nice places—if you only looked for a moment. Today was going to be different. Today I was determined to enjoy myself in any way possible. I had my money tucked away in the safest place I could find on my person, and I walked down the sidewalk and to the bathysphere station.


Normally, I would have felt bad about leaving mama home alone all day. This time, after working so hard, I knew that it was best if I just escaped for a time. Besides, I left her money to buy groceries so we could have a swell dinner; that was something that didn’t come around often. Usually, there were no complaints about that from me or mama, but papa hated what we ate. The man loved his meals and it seemed that the lack of food angered him more than anything. He would wait to anger though, until he had fallen into a drunken stupor. Then he would yell and scream about there not being fried chicken or hamburgers or something along those silly lines. That’s why no one ever complained about the shouting from others around us; everyone had dirty little secrets, but the little secrets liked to make their presence known in The Drop.


Life wasn’t like this very often, so I was bound to enjoy myself when possible. I stopped silently at the station and waited for the ride up to Apollo Square. I could catch another bathysphere from there to another area—hopefully a little more lively than where I was now. It looked like there would be a few minute wait for my ride, so I leaned against a nearby wall and watched people as they moved from place to place.