RP with Evil Jack

rapturessweetheart:

Had this been any other year, Pockets would’ve charged at the man, weaponless, and with his arms held out. Practically begging for death…as he had been for years.

But now, since his abuse of ADAM and EVE set it, along with the cozy life he was now living in a hovel with a few other splicers, he found himself genuinely happy for the first time in months.

He wasn’t about to let some young gun from the surface take away his quaint set-up. Thinking as quickly as his twisted brain would let him, he stood up on his knees. With a grin, he pulled his tattered tux jacket open, one shirt at a time. It was lined with hand-sewn pockets, each bulging with unknown items.

“…Whatcha wanna buy? Trade? Sell? You want it, I got it.”

When he sat up on his knees, he cocked the gun, prepared to shoot. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was watching as he pulled open his tux jacket and asked him if he wanted to buy.

Well, he did have some money. But he wasn’t willing to buy.

He took a step forward,glancing over all of the pockets stuffed with unknown things that he couldn’t distinguish. He shook out his electrobolt plasmid, then holding the hand out to him.

“ADAM. All that you have.”

rapturessweetheart:

Pockets then froze in his place. His one good eye still locked on the intruder, and the pistol. He was at a point-blank range, if he was a good enough shot. The splicer was veritably cornered, so it seemed. And he had learned that, more often than not, it wasn’t a smart idea to bring a wrench or a pipe to a gunfight.

He momentarily considered his plasmids, however, judging by the glow of the man’s left hand, he’d had them too. And…it was Electro-Bolt. His least favourite. It bitterly reminded him of…

“…You know what they do to intruders around here, eh?” he said, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“I learned pretty fast, yeah.” He kept his hand steady, aimed right between his eyes, while his other hand glowed white-blue. Yeah, this guy was cornered, and if he made one move to even flinch toward him he’d shoot immediately.

“But you know, I’ve been down here for weeks, and you’re not the first guy I’ve run into. So give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head right now.”

At least this guy didn’t automatically try taking a swing at him. If he did, well, he’d already be dead by now.

rapturessweetheart:

Pockets backed up, still on all fours. His eye darted from the intruder, to the grating of a climate vent on the wall, back to the intruder. He wondered how fast he could make it through there if the other decided to use that pistol. The splicer spoke to the surface-dwelling intruder, still backtracking slowly.

“You…yer the surface-dweller…aren’t you?” he said softly, staring up at Jack with his reddened eyes.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He took a step forward when he backed up, still keeping the pistol pointed directly at the man — if he could even call him that anymore. He was expecting an attack in response; that was the typical reaction, it seemed, whenever anyone down here found an ‘intruder’.

the-frozen-lark:

Present :)

(( Omg woah!!! oh wow this is really great I love this so much

Thank you!!! ;v; ))

theblessednavigator:

So thatwas what Jack was after: an escape opportunity. These days, who wasn’t?

Finding a bathysphere would be no problem. Finding one that wasn’t falling apart, however, would be a real challenge, if not impossible. The only viable option was to build one from scratch. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find enough materials, but it was going to be tough to build one strong enough to withstand the immense pressure outside the city. One loose screw, and the entire thing would crumple like a piece of paper in a giant’s clenched fist, crushing whatever was inside it.

Gil’s eyes suddenly lit up.

“I don’t, unfortunately, but I believe that I can help you regardless.” His face split in a wide, toothy grin. “I know just what to do. If there are no setbacks, then you should be back on the surface in a few weeks—perhaps even less.”

That’s what he’d been after since his arrival to this fallen utopia, and his want for it only got stronger with each passing minute. He’d say day, but he didn’t know what day it was anymore. There was no point keeping track when there were no clocks down here. Each second that he was still down here made him want to get out that much more.

And now he might have an opportunity. As Gil pondered what he had said, he waited patiently; the bargain was simple. He gets Jack out of here, he gets spared. If he fails, Jack won’t hesitate to test what that control can do.

When his eyes lit up and he gave him this news, Jack smiled.

“Then I believe we have a deal. I want updates on how it’s going every few hours. Any setbacks, any anything, I want to know about it. Accessing the shortwave radio isn’t hard; at least, it shouldn’t be for you.” Plucking the item out of his pocket, he tossed it in the air and caught it. Considering anyone notable in the city has had the ability to contact him via the radio, he figured it wouldn’t be a problem for Gil either.

He’d be out of here in a few weeks. Perfect.

theblessednavigator:

That was the last straw.

“Do you think me a simpleton?”

He wasn’t cowering in the bottom of his tank any more. Now he was pressed up against the glass wall, watching Jack with wide eyes. A muscle near the corner of his mouth tremored uncontrollably.

“I know what will happen if I neglect to pay you back. You will come for me again. Perhaps you’ll kill me, perhaps not. Either way, something terribly unpleasant will happen to me, which I would very much like to prevent. And I may not look it, but I am a very resourceful man. I’m sure that I will be able to get you whatever you want.”

He opened his mouth to reply; yes, honestly, he did think him to be a simpleton. However, he stopped himself from saying what he was about to say when Gil said that last sentence. It halted him for just a moment, before a grin came to his lips and he chuckled; though it wasn’t lighthearted in the slightest, but more dark. He wasn’t very capable of lightheartedness anymore.

“Can you control the bathyspheres?” He simply responded, looking at the man that was now far from cowering, though he himself was still not in the least bit afraid. “Are you able to access them?”

He pushed himself off of the control panel, going down the steps and strolling right up to the tank.

“I don’t care how long it takes or what you’ll have to do to make it happen. If you can get a working bathysphere for me to take to the surface, I’ll spare your life and everyone else’s down here that I haven’t already killed.”

theblessednavigator:

“Does it look like I have anything to offer y— Oh, God…”

There was that hand again. Gil buried his face in his hands, pulling his knees up to his chest. Jack may just have been messing with him, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Please, no! Please don’t…”

His anger continued to fester inside him. Gruesome images flashed before his eyes as he imagined what he would do to Jack if he had the strength to put up a fight. Gil had the size of a great whale and the teeth of a shark, yet there he was, cowering before a pint-sized tyrant like a stricken dog. It wasn’t fair.

“I don’t have anything to give you right now, but…” He looked up, forcing himself to smile in an attempt to look at least somewhat composed. “If you spare me, rest assured that I will make it worth your while.”

And it made Jack feel so, so powerful. Being able to make such a big creature cower like a domestic animal that has done wrong, it was wonderful. He chuckled at the words, at the attempt to bribe him. It was a good try, he’d give him that for certain.

“You know,” He mused idly as he looked over the controls again before glancing up at the TVs flashing black and white ‘PLEASE STAND BY’ signs. “You’re not the first person to say those words to me. That you’ll make it ‘worth my while’.”

He remembered when he first entered Rapture; well, not the first time, but more when he came back to Rapture. How Tenenbaum tossed him the plasmid and told him she would make it worth his while if he saved the Little Sisters rather than killing them. But Atlas, the voice on the radio, told him it’d be better if he killed them. And how could he trust her?

“If you have nothing to offer to me, how could you make it worth my while, hmm? Why should I believe you? How do I know that you’re not just saying this so I’ll spare you and you’ll kill me as soon as you have the chance?”

As he said this his eyes flickered to the nearest vita-chamber; it was on, good. Then if he killed him it wouldn’t particularly matter, unless he was able to turn it off from his position.

rapturessweetheart:

The splicer’s head snapped up, pivoting all around on his neck, trying to locate the source of the sound. He stood up, brandishing his pipe.

“I can heeeaaar yoooooou…and you won’t like it when I FIND YOU.”

When he heard the cock of a pistol, he planted himself down to the tiled floor, on all fours. Pockets leered uncomfortably at the intruder, his deadened left eye staring off to his left, out of sync with the other locked in front.

Catching sight of the splicer, he almost wanted to gag. Then again, most of the splicers down here disgusted him; what with how distorted most of their features were. It sometimes made him think that he was the only normal looking human down here; until he remembers that his father and Atlas among a very small group of people that are down here look fine.

“You have a pipe, big guy, and I have a pistol. Who do you think’s gonna win here?”

justcallmetoasty:

Toasty, like the good juggernaut splicer he was, burst from his cover, trying to locate the intruder. Instructions or no instructions, Ryan or no Ryan, Toasty, along with many of the splicers, hated intruders upon the city, and he was eager to be the one who did away with the man who’s face, and sweater, were posted everywhere. 

“I know you’re here…and I’m just itchin’ for a fight!”

He popped the chamber on his revolver, reloading it and spinning it shut expertly.

He knew he was unwanted here by literally every living thing down in this place. Hell, he himself didn’t want to be here and would love to leave. That’s what he’s been wanting to do, anyway. But until then, he had to kill everything that tried to kill him, and it looked like everything down here that wanted him out figured the only way out is with death.

He heard the sound of a revolver and readied his shotgun, listening carefully to where the voice came from and shooting when he saw anything move.

“Yeah? I’ve been looking for some stress relief myself…”

theblessednavigator:

rpwitheviljack:

The metal around his feet cut through his jeans and dug into his legs and he kicked some of it away to give him some space, still oh-so-casually leaning against the control panel. No, he didn’t know; it just said sample disposal. Though, when Gil stated that it was actually ‘subject’ disposal, that made it quite clear.

Oh, so this killed him. That made sense.

“For a guy with enough power to run the place, you have a pretty big gaping weak spot right here then, don’t you?” He simply mused. Besides, he was in that tank, how could he stop him?

Besides, maybe, sending more bots after him. But all he had to do was lean against the switch and it’d activate it.

When he saw Jack’s eyes rove over the buttons, he tightened, digging his claws into the tank wall.

“If I could, I would long since have deactivated it.”

It was true. Using his bot to fiddle with the wiring was impossible, and he was far too paranoid to let anyone do it for him. Not even his closest friends were allowed near the control panel unless he was safe outside of his tank.

As he sat there, shaking and waiting for the stranger to lose interest and move on, he felt another outburst coming on. If Jack was there when it happened, then he would, without doubt, get snapped at. And provoking him further was the last thing that Gil wanted to do.

“I am going to have to ask you to leave, sir.”

“Sir?” That made him glance up with a smirk at the rather pitiful man — if he could call him that — in the tank. “I like the sound of that. Tell me; why should I?”

He brushed his fingers over some of the controls on the panel; not hard enough to hit any buttons, but certainly enough to give the man some more scares. He was twisted; it was hard not to be when you’ve been down here long enough. So being able to toy with someone in a weak situation like this was certainly an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. Especially not considering just how long he’s been in the weak spot and been paranoid and anxious constantly. It was nice to take that load off for a bit.

Using one of the bots as balance, he kicked off of it to hoist himself up and sit on the edge of the panel. Picking up said bot, he searched the destroyed remains and harvested some unused bullets to load into his machine gun, casting a small glance over his shoulder at the tank when he finished.

theblessednavigator:

Gil looked up, knitting his hands in an attempt to stop them from shaking. He was well aware of how pathetic he looked, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t remember the last time that he had been this scared. It didn’t help when he saw that the man was still standing by the control panel, ankle-deep in scrap metal and broken bots.

Who the hell was he?

“You don’t know?”

Was Jack just messing with him, or did he really not know what that button did?

“I thought you knew, and that you were threatening me with pushing it.” He swallowed, pushing himself up against the back of the tank. “It’s the ‘Subject disposal’ button. It does exactly what its name implies.”

The metal around his feet cut through his jeans and dug into his legs and he kicked some of it away to give him some space, still oh-so-casually leaning against the control panel. No, he didn’t know; it just said sample disposal. Though, when Gil stated that it was actually ‘subject’ disposal, that made it quite clear.

Oh, so this killed him. That made sense.

“For a guy with enough power to run the place, you have a pretty big gaping weak spot right here then, don’t you?” He simply mused. Besides, he was in that tank, how could he stop him?

Besides, maybe, sending more bots after him. But all he had to do was lean against the switch and it’d activate it.

rapturessweetheart:

Pockets wandered down the row, oblivious to most of the activity around him. Not that there was much. He dragged a length of rusted pipe behind him, the only thing he’d been able to find in lue of weaponry lately. The line he walked was a bit crooked, his green, deformed face hidden behind a black cat mask. He mumbled and shrieked to himself, his equally crooked eyes wandering.

“I-I’m ‘Rapture’s Sweetheart’! I AM! P-People still come to my shows…people love me!” He laughed nervously, which slowly turned into a sob. One of his scuffed dress shoes kicked the arm of a corpse. Taking notice, he squatted down, beginning to rifle through the pockets, humming creepily to himself.

There wasn’t much activity going on at all, really; since he’s gone through and killed most everything he found. He heard the drag of the pipe against the ground making an agonizing noise followed by the man talking to himself and he kept his gun up, walking in the direction of the man.

It wasn’t that hard to find him; he was talking loudly enough, and in the echoing halls his voice carried. With every corner he turned his gun was shown first before his body, pointing it around the room before he deemed it safe to step inside. When he found Pockets his finger went to the trigger, speaking up again.

“Whatever you’re holding, drop it.”

Oh look, it’s one of Cohen’s bitches.

(( If anyone wants to rp, shoot me an ask!

theblessednavigator:

As quickly became evident, there would be no need for that Vita-Chamber. The bots dropped left and right, both due to Gil’s waning mental strength and Jack’s trained aim. One had a propeller blade shot off and spun out of control, dragging two other bots with it before crashing into the floor. The few remaining security bots continued to fight, but eventually, they, too, fell to the floor.

Inside the tank, Gil curled into a ball, hoping that the stranger had had enough. Usually, he was able to concentrate for longer, but the scare that Jack had given him continued to haunt him.

He could tell that Gil’s strength on the bots was wavering; bots that he wasn’t even shooting at were falling to the ground, not that he minded. It made his job easier, though once the bullets stopped, he was quite bloodied up.

The bullets those bots held were flimsy and couldn’t do too much damage on their own unless they shot him in the jugular or at any vital organs and even then it’d take a bit to kill him. He was going to have to dig the bullets out later, maybe find some cloth that wasn’t as filthy and wash it off with any non-saltwater he can find so he could wrap the wounds before they became infected. But he’d do that later.

He made his way back to the control panel, blinking when he caught sight of the man (if he could even say that) in the tank, curled up, and he looked almost like he was shaking. Well, that was strange. He glanced back at the control he was looking at before, and then back to Gil.

“So. I think you’d appreciate it better if I asked you what that control does rather than trial-and-error-ing it to find out for myself.”

theblessednavigator:

Gil had expected the man to be reduced to a whimpering, tearful mess, begging for his life and promising that he wouldn’t return ever again. Most people were when faced with an army that didn’t bleed and never tired. But not this fellow. He was different in more ways than Gil realised.

“You are awfully bold for someone in such a disadvantageous position.”

He opened his eyes, almost losing control over his metal lackeys. That was when he noticed the man’s hand, which was hovering over the control panel, dangerously close to—

“NO!”

An ear-splitting, inhuman screech escaped him. As if sensing their master’s distress, the security bots charged, buzzing like a swarm of angry insects. There were so many of them that they nearly blocked out the light from the security cameras.

Meanwhile, Gil had retreated to the bottom of his tank, praying that the man would be forced away from the control panel in time. If he wasn’t, he was a goner. He was much too tired to climb out of his tank. Not that going outside would do him any good, all things considered. It would protect him from the shock, but it would also leave him at the stranger’s mercy. His regenerative ability could fix a lot of things, but a shotgun blast to the head was not one of them.

Most people, he supposed, haven’t already destroyed countless cameras and turrets and security bots thus far. Never this many at once, mind you, but he’s faced many, and he wasn’t scared of these.

He was more or less shocked at the sudden reaction he received from just talking and looking over the controls, his hand flinching away from where it was in favor of grabbing his shotgun tightly as the bots sparked sudden life and every green bot turned red and started firing at him.

Jack didn’t even have much time to glance back and see where Gil had gone off to. His reaction was to immediately start shooting at the bots heading toward him, and god there was a lot. He’d use security bullseye on a splicer nearby but there was none, and even if there were there was hardly a way he’d be able to see them.

Yeah, he might die before he shot down all of these robots. He might die more than once. But that was alright; it’d hurt like a bitch, but there was a nearby vita chamber only feet away should that occur. He’d be safe from death, so he’d see the end of this. And after he either shot down all of these security bots or Gil called them off, he’d ask about that control he was looking at.

Or maybe he wouldn’t ask and he’d just flip the switch. Depending on his mood after all of this.

He was cleaning his gun, glancing up at the sound of footsteps. Standing, he loaded his gun and cocked it, pointing it in the direction the sound came from.

“Who’s there.”

theblessednavigator:

“How about a little bit of everything?”

All around them, the facility was coming alive. The security bots that had previously lain dormant rose into the air, beeping as they struggled to keep their balance. A hundred bright, unblinking eyes—some red, some green—turned on the intruder. Sparks flew from the ceiling and rained onto the floor, landing dangerously close to the feet of his challenger.

It was a display of power as exhausting as it was impressive. Gil was already tiring, but he was determined to make an impression. If he scared this fellow away, perhaps he would spread the word that Fontaine Futuristics was not a place to go to unless you were looking to get yourself killed.

“This is your last warning, boy!”

Oh, he liked this. So this guy could control everything in here, huh? Security cameras that he hadn’t already destroyed and even the ones he had hacked turned on him to give him some sort of spotlight and he flinched away when some sparks came his way. Keeping his shotgun in hand and loading it with a few armor-piercing bullets, he watched as the place came to life around him and they were all going to turn on him in just a mere few seconds.

Though he could tell that it wore down on him to create such a display. He chuckled a little, glancing over the control panel he was leaning on. He thumbed a certain control, labeled ‘sample disposal’.

“Impressive. But I think I can take down some robots just fine, no matter how many you send after me.” He glanced over at the tank. “If that’s the worst you can do, I’m a bit disappointed.”

theblessednavigator:

The man’s tone made his blood boil. Gil clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, getting ready to tap into the facility’s security system.

He’d show him. Oh, he’d show him.

All at once, the lights were turned off, leaving the lab in pitch darkness. He didn’t know when or how he gained the ability to control electrical devices, but having a burgeoning empire of steel at his command had proved to be most useful.

“Would you like a demonstration?”

When the lights were turned off he stiffened, letting go of his handgun in favor of his shotgun. Glancing around, he tried desperately to get his eyes to adjust to the dark faster.

“Oh, so this is how we’re gonna play.” He muttered, trying to work with what little light that was coming from the windows or the dim emergency lights. “Security bots? Turrets? Give me your worst.”

theblessednavigator:

rpwitheviljack:

Jack scowled at that. He could deal with being killed; there were vita chambers. Being eaten? Not so much.

“Can’t say that’s the most flattering pick up line I’ve ever heard.” He responded with, finishing off his drink and tossing the glass, ignoring the loud crash it made when it collided with the floor. He took a step toward the tank.

“Well, you don’t look all that dangerous.”

What an obnoxious little hotspur.

“I may not look it, but I assure you that I am perfectly capable of doing a large amount of damage in very little ti—”

CRASH!

When the glass hit the floor, Gil jumped, instinctively hunching his shoulders and bowing his head. It took him a second to realise what the sound was and where it had come from.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Something like that,” He responded with. He still had his hand on his gun but he honestly wasn’t intimidated by this guy at all. Leaning on some controls, he glanced over at him and resisted the urge to chuckle when he saw him with his shoulders hunched.

“Are you? Well, forgive me if I don’t believe you,” He simply said, though the ‘forgive me’ sounded sarcastic. “But it’s hard to imagine you doing much damage at all from inside that tank.”