Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28920015-20170315012550/@comment-27661770-20170319002235

(Sorry I was gone all day. The FIRST Robotics Competition is being held today and tomorrow.

'TIS LIT.)

The Splicer looked around the drowning city. Air was thin.

He was probably going to die.

"...well, shit. George, ol' pal, it was a good run. You take my crown and run this show right outta hell..."

He slumped against a wall, defeated. No more was he a corporate king.\

And then...

Meanwhile, Pauper's Drop

Sinclair stumbled over to a deceased Leadhead Splicer and took their tommygun, then to a Thuggish and took the wrench they held. A pistol and shutgun lay nearby, but he knew not to get greedy.

In business, greed was your friend. In survival, greed was your enemy.

And business was no more here.

And then...

The Splicer watched a white portal open before his very eyes.

"...what in the goddamn..."

A crack of the neck.

"...the fuck? Wait. WAIT."

And he got the idea.

"BACK IN BUSINESS, BABY!"

And he sprinted forth.

Meanwhile, Sinclair held his hand over his face to shield from the light of another portal.

"...aw, hell. Whatcha doin' to me now, Rapture?"

He went over to a comms set nearby.

"Grace, can ya hear me? Grace? Grace, if you're there, please respond. Grace. I know it's a no-duh, damned-fool statement of the obvious, but you need to get outta Rapture. If you can, there might be a way out near the Vita-Chamber that's nearest the Fishbowl Diner. Don't know how much longer it's gonna be open... Get your rear end over there if you wanna live. A-S-A-P. Augustus Sinclair, out. And make sure my hotel is closed 'fore ya leave."

And then he jumped through.