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| This Wasn't in the Job Description [Closed]; -- Athena's Glory Apartments | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 28 2008, 01:24 PM (276 Views) | |
| . Peach Wilkins | Sep 28 2008, 01:24 PM Post #1 |
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[Closed to Elizabeth Channing and Peach Wilkins] It was around one o'clock in the morning by the time Peach Wilkins finally left Fontaine Fisheries for the night. He had just spent the past three hours helping Timothy Huddleston, Samuel Gunther, and Elizabeth Channing unload a shipment of goods they picked up in Boston a few days earlier. Nothing too big, but the gang was pleased with the score - a decent accumulation of beef and real tobacco. The crew worked quietly and efficiently to get the shipment transferred into large wooden crates hidden deep within the bowels of Smuggler's Cove. After the four took one final sweep of the freezers, they locked up and headed outside. "Alright you well-wishers; we'll see you tomorrow", Ol' Peachy signified in his raspy voice as he shook Timmy and Sammy's hands simultaneously. The two men then said their good-byes, and headed off for the night to go drown themselves at The Fighting McDonagh. Peach and Elizabeth's agenda wasn't complete yet though. There was still one more matter Frank Fontaine wanted them to attend to before the night was over. As they headed towards Apollo Square, the two friends began to chat quietly among themselves. |
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| . Elizabeth Channing | Sep 28 2008, 02:51 PM Post #2 |
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The deserted docks of Neptune's Bounty were dimly lit and unusually cold as the pair made their way to the bathysphere. Now the pleasant company of Peach Wilkins and the rotten smell of dead fish was the only thing keeping Elizabeth from feeling alone in these dark confines of Rapture. Of course, by now she was used to the smell; as well as the cold fish blood that wreaked havoc through the golden blonde curls of her tied up hair. As Elizabeth began to speak, she vainly tried to wipe off some of the guts on her hands onto the rolled up sleeves of her red and white plaid undershirt. "When you lived on the surface, is this the kind of life you imagined you would one day be living?" She inquired to Peach. "I mean, six years ago if you told me I would be living under Atlantic, I would of told you, you were crazy." |
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| . Peach Wilkins | Sep 28 2008, 05:07 PM Post #3 |
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"You know something sonny-friend..." Peach Wilkins responded, "I'd be lying to ya if I toldja this is what I thought I'd be stirring up down here. Ryan had promised me something different...he promised all of us something better. Guess alls I'm tryna say is I'd be called a liar if I said this is even romotely what I thought Rapture would be like." As they began to walk further down the docks towards the bathysphere, something caught Peach's eye. It was a crumbled up dollar bill stuck on the one the meshes of a chain-link fence. He carefully walked over, and unhinged it from its metal prison. "Looks like my lucky day!" Peach exclaimed as he pulled the single bill from the fence, and into a shirt pocket underneath his waders. |
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| . Elizabeth Channing | Sep 28 2008, 05:21 PM Post #4 |
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Elizabeth reeled Ol' Peachy a smile. "Sure, looks like it!" she exclaimed. "Now let's just hope our luck lasts..." Switching back into the conversation gear as they stepped into the bathysphere, Elizabeth progressed onward, "You're right; I can't say I did either. When my father told me that I'd make someone very happy one day, I didn't think he was referring to the people who count on Fontaine's supplies." Looking out the bathysphere's window into the glowing neon lights of Rapture under the deep blue sea, Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh. "When I heard first heard about Rapture", she continued, "I began to see it as a vision - a vision of where I wanted to go in my life - a vision that then became the basis for reaching out to the world and going after those dreams for a better life." |
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| . Peach Wilkins | Sep 28 2008, 05:41 PM Post #5 |
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The bathysphere splashed its way out of the water as it surfaced in Apollo Square. Peach Wilkins turned the handle and motioned as Elizabeth walked out. Following out behind her, Peach closed the door tightly as the two headed towards Apollo Square's Residential Apartments. The sound of the two smuggler's damp rubber boots squeaking on the worn out cobblestone of the walkway was enough to shatter the eerie silence that seemed to always accompany the dead night of Apollo Square. As the duo grew closer to their apartment buildings, they still found themselves enthralled in conversation. "Exactly, colleen!" Peach bolted, as if there was never any pause in their conversation. "Thus you can imagine why what we are doing is so important! Fontaine is exactly what this fish tank needs! He's our white knight; the white knight who is gonna break down all of Ryan's patterns. And when patterns are broken, new worlds emerge." Before Elizabeth could even respond, Ol' Peach interjected once again. "Don't get paranoid about it. Let's just focus on getting through tonight, eh?" Elizabeth Channing and Peach Wilkins had stopped right in front of apartment number four as the old man himself gazed down at his Titus Gold Chronograph Watch. Squinting, he tried to read the time under the golden flicker of a nearby lamppost. Of course, it didn't help any that his vision wasn't getting any better with age. "Uh...alright" he finally spoke, as he raised one gray eyebrow to Elizabeth. "It's one-thirty now. Let's meet back here at say...three on the dot?" |
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| . Elizabeth Channing | Oct 6 2008, 05:35 PM Post #6 |
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"Alright, yes." Elizabeth aimlessly reflected as she starred around the vacant plaza. Physically she was there, but for a second her mind was still processing what Peach had just said. Her eyes pooled open to accompany a gaping mouth - a sure sign the young lady was lost in thought. The orange haze of the Apollo Square lampposts always reminded Elizabeth of station lights. "Alright, yes!" She reiterated with a newly found conviction. "I'll meet you outside here then..." As Elizabeth started for the stairs to her second floor apartment, the impending thought of a warm shower (or at least what was considered a warm shower) zipped her tired legs up the wooden stairs faster and faster. Even with her body racing, Fontaine's little errand was still reposing in the back of her mind. |
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| . Peach Wilkins | Nov 13 2008, 03:54 PM Post #7 |
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Ol' Peachy snapped on a light in his little apartment. The flicker from the sickly hanging yellow bulb illuminated itself throughout the kitchen of his tiny home. Still he became frightened of the dark dusty corners that failed to fall into the light. His eyes moved like lightning across the plains of darkness that surrounded him as he stood in the diseased illumination. In the recent nights he had become awfully afraid of Ryan's men somehow waiting for him in the apartment. Rushing quickly into all the rooms, and snapping on lights like they were photographs on a roll of film, the old man peered frightfully through every threshold in sight. The thought of running into any of Ryan's men tonight deeply bothered him, but he tried not to show it because he knew he might have to comfort the young girl. Rushing back to the ajar front door, he clicked on a strip of three shiny new padlocks and two door chains that dripped down the inside of the steel door. Peach shuddered; his nerves were weak right now. He needed a few moments to calm down. With his back propped against the inside of the secured door and sighing to himself, Peach Wilkins unhinged his rubber waders and dropped them down nearby. The old wooden kitchen floor was covered in fine layer of dust and grime - a perfect place of those old things! His flannel shirt was damp with fish guts as he made his way to a small brown desk in the adjacent room. Opening up the front desk drawer, he pulled out a manila envelope and slid the contents out onto the desktop. Inside there were several contents. Three black and white photographs with clothespin marks at the top left and right hand corners. The photos were of a middle aged woman - she had a bob cut, and an extremely slender face with pronounced jawline. Her nose was sharp and her eyes squinty. In the third photo the woman was seen dining with a man in an expensive restaurant (one so nice Peach Wilkins didn't even recognize it). The man in the photograph was quite unattractive too, but bore a look of love in his eyes. Finally Peach squinted down as he picked up the final item off the desk and held it to the light. It was a small memo from a specialized pad. Printed across the top of the note was the words "Fontaine Futuristics - Creams, Pills, Injections". Written underneath in cursive was the following: Karen Trisdale Athena's Glory Apartments Apartment 9C 3587 Ol' Peachy thought for a second still standing at the desk looking over the photos. Then he put the note down, and remembering the dollar bill in his right pocket, slipped it into his wallet. As he began to unbutton his flannel shirt, he stepped into bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the shower. Peach's watch lied on the counter as its small hands ticked away. It was now a quarter till two... |
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| . Elizabeth Channing | Nov 13 2008, 08:06 PM Post #8 |
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Never had Elizabeth felt so refreshed after such a miserably cold shower. The sodden curls that fell to her shoulders propagated themselves into damp layers. As the loosely wet golden blonde curls began to fizz out, her light brown blends began to bleed out. It was as spine-tingling beautiful as it was simple. The young lady laid on a couch in a dimly lit room of her second story apartment. Her soft legs and shoeless feet draped down over the edge opposite her head. The dress she changed into was fashioned from cotton in a pink, blue, yellow, and white abstract floral print. In its entirety the dress was accented with swirls of sequins colored to match the print. As Elizabeth pulled her overboard hand back onto the couch to prop herself up, she had noticed Delta had fallen asleep on the floor next to where her hand laid. Besides the sleeping canine was an almost empty wineglass of Arcadia Merlot resting on the carpet. Scratching behind his motionless ears, she reached over and killed the rest of the glass. "What could he be dreaming about?" The girl thought to herself, placing the wineless glass back down on the carpet. For a moment she pulled herself away from the book she was reading and held her place with her right thumb and forefinger. As she glanced over at the clock on her desk, she got up and slid off the couch. Placing the book down, the blonde beauty stared at it for a second. The title of the book was "Преступление и наказание", or "Crime and Punishment" in English. It was one of her favorites, and as she began to think of what awaited her and Peach Wilkins she couldn't help but think of Raskolnikov. Perhaps her involvement with Fontaine was like her way of trying to help rectify a sin. "Surely that's what Andrew Ryan had become! And righting a wrong wasn't always easy..."Elizabeth assured herself as she made her way to a small closet in the kitchen. From inside she pulled a patched gray sweater, and a rusted can of red spray paint. Tossing the sweater on, she pulled a Webley .38 Mark 6 top-break revolver from the inside pocket. Thumbing the cylinder release latch, she slipped her fingers through the frame to check the rounds inside, then she flipped it shut and dropped it back into the pocket. The torn insoles of her saddle shoes tickled the arches of her bare feet as she slipped a bow tightly on them. After shutting off all the lights, the young lady locked the front door and headed back downstairs. It was now three o'clock... |
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