Post by Blues on Jun 28, 2010 9:35:30 GMT -5
The breeze of a civil war stood and took it's tow on to the air in Rapture, making the already cold air even colder. The whole damn witch's brew was that of smoke from blasted bullets and the like, also mixing with the smell of the sour odor of decay and rotten blood, or maybe that's just because I hadn't showered in about two weeks, I never really know. And to top it off, was the smell of burnt meat from them bastards burning us for no reason, Damn Andrew thought that would be 'retaliation,' while we noticed it was "burn the crap out of random people defending their rights." Ryan, the bastard thinks he could put on a smart accent and know what he's talking about with all that slave speech that was the essence of crap, and the pathetic thing is that he knows that it's worthless, yet, he continues. "Atlas offers us only lies!" Pfft, I wouldn't be surprised if that were a man with the IQ of twenty, and even if he weren't, I'd still be scoffin' at 'im.
"Talkin' to yourself, again, mate?" Turning to my left, I saw no other than Ramirez, stuffing his trademark snotty smirk at me. Before this civil war started, he was a quiet bartender, cleaning around the counter, winkin' at the gal's with the hooters, you know, the usual stuff any bartender would do. Me, being a usual customer to the bar, made a great friendship with 'em, and, ever since then, we've been through a lot of things together, even having sex for the first time, we were together. Not to mention we had it with the gal of Miss Rapture, damn good times. But, now, he's basically the same as ever, except for the splicin' part. We try to keep together as much as we can, but, somehow, we always get stuck with the other people who couldn't shoot the large side of a barn. But now, we were together, and damn, were we doing well.
The mission was simple, get in on how many of Andrew's goons were going to invade us tomorrow evening, as from the plans that were captured, and see if were overwhelmed. But, instead of going, we just stayed here for a little longer, staring into the blue, aquatic abyss known as the ocean. Lighting a cigarette and putting the butt of it in my mouth, I looked over at Ramirez with a depressive, yet questionable expression, and simply asked, "Hey, remember the good ol' days, where we were getting it on without protection, drinking Vodka every Tuesday, and being as happy as can be?"
He looked back at me, and looked down, shaking his head, as if unsure...Then, he shook his head yes fairly slowly, with a face that knew what I was taking about.
I got the cigarette, only just beginning in it's journey, and blew out a handful of smoke.
"I miss those days."
(This was done for the vast majority of freedom that multiplayer in Bioshock 2 gives you, as well as having a story in every turn. Don't worry, I'll update this)
"Talkin' to yourself, again, mate?" Turning to my left, I saw no other than Ramirez, stuffing his trademark snotty smirk at me. Before this civil war started, he was a quiet bartender, cleaning around the counter, winkin' at the gal's with the hooters, you know, the usual stuff any bartender would do. Me, being a usual customer to the bar, made a great friendship with 'em, and, ever since then, we've been through a lot of things together, even having sex for the first time, we were together. Not to mention we had it with the gal of Miss Rapture, damn good times. But, now, he's basically the same as ever, except for the splicin' part. We try to keep together as much as we can, but, somehow, we always get stuck with the other people who couldn't shoot the large side of a barn. But now, we were together, and damn, were we doing well.
The mission was simple, get in on how many of Andrew's goons were going to invade us tomorrow evening, as from the plans that were captured, and see if were overwhelmed. But, instead of going, we just stayed here for a little longer, staring into the blue, aquatic abyss known as the ocean. Lighting a cigarette and putting the butt of it in my mouth, I looked over at Ramirez with a depressive, yet questionable expression, and simply asked, "Hey, remember the good ol' days, where we were getting it on without protection, drinking Vodka every Tuesday, and being as happy as can be?"
He looked back at me, and looked down, shaking his head, as if unsure...Then, he shook his head yes fairly slowly, with a face that knew what I was taking about.
I got the cigarette, only just beginning in it's journey, and blew out a handful of smoke.
"I miss those days."
(This was done for the vast majority of freedom that multiplayer in Bioshock 2 gives you, as well as having a story in every turn. Don't worry, I'll update this)