The Bloody King Of Rapture

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I don’t remember how to draw but i am trying… so here is Frank Fontaine and Andrew Ryan, the tragic love story of Rapture, hanging out, playing golf ? Frank Fontaine is scheming ? He is dropping that ADAM hypo over there, so not sure what he had in mind with that… hmm, sneaky sneaky tricky man. 

Putting you out of your misery will be    the nicest thing anyone's ever done     for you.

atlas // frank fontaine 

- Independent Bioshock Blog. - OC friendly. - Flexible with all timelines. - Prefers prose but can work with other writing formats. - NSFW (violence, gore, etc.) all triggers are tagged appropriately. - 6+ years roleplaying experience. 4+ on tumblr. - Skype available.

        she’s not surprised to see the oh so great woman here. there had been a small, passive rally just a few moments ago, and atlas had made sure the word got to ryan so she would be here. it’s the first time francine has seen her since she faked her death, and she’s almost disappointed that she still looks the same. with a pinched brow, she burns out her cigarette under her boot and approaches the woman she’s grown to hate so much with the utmost calmness. there was no way ryan would know who she was, anyway. not unless if she paid extra attention to those posters, since the image on them didn’t resemble atlas fully.

                                                ” miss ryan    ain’t it rare t’ see ya out here. came t’ see                                                   who dares t’ oppose ya at this rally, didn’t ‘cha? ya                                                   came a bit late, though. everybody’s already gone                                                      ‘cept for me, ‘o course. “

No plasmids for her, she was no fool.

"People are allowed their freedom to speak their mind unafraid of the censors of the surface" Anne said smoothly, aware of the hypocrisy of her words as she said them but showed no sign. Between what had happened with Fontaine and Sinclair's prison that didn't exist she knew she'd had to bring the censor to her beloved city. But, she defended to herself, she was only attempting to silence the parasites who would ruin Rapture. What she did, all of it, was for the good of Rapture.

Still she took a drag of her cigarette, that ridiculous advert from Fontaine's department store flickering through her mind. She didn't care much for the brand of Nico Time but Sullivan had been insistent when she'd confided in him, saying if it was the brand she should smoke in her 'condition'. It had taken a threat before he'd stop trying to say she would relax and not work. She would work, trusting no one else until she had trained up an heir to follow her. She stopped herself from placing a hand over her stomach, not a flicker to show she'd considered the motion. Yes, what she did was for the good of Rapture and the next generation. She would not hand her child the keys to a broken and parasite infested city.

Letting the smoke out of her lungs, Anne considered the woman beside her and had to shake off the strange feeling of-- familiarity that hit her from out of nowhere. She would swear-- but no, she'd never seen this woman before. She'd remember that accent at the very least.

"I merely came to see what the people are saying personally, rather then hearing it filtered through the Council."