of many faces.

@fauxsalvation / fauxsalvation.tumblr.com

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Jack’s heart stopped for, what felt like, a full minute. The nausea he was already feeling increased tenfold as he heard the familiar voice. He had spent a lot of time convincing himself he was no longer afraid of Fontaine after he, you know, killed him. However, now that the man was before his eyes again he couldn’t help but feel every  bit as powerless as he used to for a small moment. Jack moved away from his wall, attempting to appear sturdy as he took slow steps to the bar. He wanted to say something to scare the man away, bit inside his intense sickness he  could only muster one sentence. 

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"You can’t be here." Way to state the obvious, Jack. 

          Jack was right, in a way. fontaine couldn't really be here. what is dead stays dead and there was no possible way of changing that. fontaine curls his lip and scoffs in utter amusement, heavy blue eyes staring straight at jack. it was a face he was all too familiar with, but now    now that liveliness from before was gone, and it looked like this kid hadn't slept in weeks. fontaine doesn't feel bad for him in any sort of way. he did this to himself, really. he'd been too power-hungry and he fell into addiction far too quickly. it was jack's own fault. not fontaine's. his lips curl into a wide grin, and he takes a slow, long sip from his glass cup. he hisses at the washed-up, stale taste of the alcohol, but it's better than nothing.

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      ❛ well, i apparently can, because here i am.          what are ya goin' to do, huh? kill me? go for          it, jackie. really. entertain me, would ya kindly?          the sight of you is makin' me fuckin' sick. you          coulda' been somethin'! you really coulda'! and          now look at you, you pathetic little baby. why          not jus' put yourself out of your misery, huh?           ain't you got a gun with you? end it, boyo. ❜
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fauxsalvation
 It started when he woke up screaming. The nightmares had gotten so bad lately. Worse than that, he was sweating like he had a fever. Maybe he did, because this horrible shivering wouldn’t stop. How long had it been since he’d had Adam? Too  long. He stood on shaking legs. What if there was no more? What if it was all gone? He needed water, no, liquor. He would go back to sleep. He knew he had seen some in the bar downstairs. He stumbled down them, they seemed much longer than before, and slipped a little at the bottom. He caught himself on the wall, leaning against it with all his weight. From there, he could see the silhouette of a man sitting like a patron.
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"Who the hell are you..?" His voice came out weakly, despite his obvious attempt to sound otherwise. 

        This was definitely new. it wasn't every fucking day that you ended up being a fragment of someone's mind after years of being inside of it. fontaine didn't care    he couldn't care because he wasn't fucking real. if he was really alive and really here, he would be pissed. fontaine is an egotistical man who loathes being forgotten, and that's exactly what jack had done until this moment. it was the lack of ADAM in his system, wasn't it? one of the many woes of being a drug addict. fontaine can't say he fully knows the feeling. sure, he's done his fair share of drugs in his life, but he never got addicted to anything. he wanted to be fucking immortal. those drugs would wear him down and cut his life shorter. it'd been worthless, though. he died anyway, and it wasn't because of an overdose.

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        ❛ who the hell am i? you know who i fuckin' am, kid.           everybody in this place knows who i am. well    knew.          ya killed me, remember? can't i have a drink in peace          without you sayin' anythin'? this is stale as shit, but 's          better than nothin'. ❜
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       ❝ understatement of the century. ❞ she grabs his face in her hands and yanks him down to eye level,            giving him a  cold glower ––       ––    and then captures his lips in a kiss of hunger and desperation.     it’s brief, foll- owed  by  a   slightly    more    affectionate nuzzle to his jawline.  she can’t believe the sight of him –   it stirs hot rage and melting relief at the same time.         ❝ … asshole. ❞

        It definitely was an understatement, but he didn't want to give her that point. he's barely holding back a smirk because he can tell she missed him and most likely, she'd been worried of his whereabouts. he'd disappeared without a single word, after all. just a simple note stating that he'd be back. he'd always been spontaneous and secretive about what he did, though he knew that elizabeth was knowledgeable of everything that went on behind her back. rapture was chaotic, and he'd nearly lost his life down there, but now, here he was    clean, alert, and alive. he cups her cheek in his grip and caresses her skin, moving her palm to his lips to settle a kiss on it. it's chaste    or at least, as chaste as fontaine could possibly be. 

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        ❛ asshole? wow, that's the way you greet people after not          seein' 'em for a long time, huh? i give you princess, and          ya give me that. 's fine, i jus' need to get used to your          horrible fuckin' mood again. ❜
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so basically, i'm only going to interact with people i was already interacting with before i went on hiatus, plus any cool people that i haven't yet interacted with but who i want to interact with? activity isn't going to be up at 100%, but yes I Am Here.
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reblogged

INDEFINITE HIATUS.

so, if it hasn’t become obvious, i’m never on this blog anymore and honestly, my atlas/frank muse is just completely gone. i’ve lost my interest in bioshock and i’ve tried to get my muse back by reading the rapture book and playing bioshock 1 again, but it’s just not working out. maybe my muse for atlas will come back again one day, maybe it won’t. either way, i love the bioshock fandom so much and you guys have been nothing but wonderful. thank you for everything, and if any of you still want to roleplay/talk with me, i spend most of my time on my vaas rp blog. thank you guys, and i’ll see you around later!

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INDEFINITE HIATUS.

so, if it hasn't become obvious, i'm never on this blog anymore and honestly, my atlas/frank muse is just completely gone. i've lost my interest in bioshock and i've tried to get my muse back by reading the rapture book and playing bioshock 1 again, but it's just not working out. maybe my muse for atlas will come back again one day, maybe it won't. either way, i love the bioshock fandom so much and you guys have been nothing but wonderful. thank you for everything, and if any of you still want to roleplay/talk with me, i spend most of my time on my vaas rp blog. thank you guys, and i'll see you around later!
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                                                                    you are me

            ✘ independent vaas montenegro from far cry 3             ✘ knowledgeable of fc3, fc4, and blood dragon             ✘ very oc friendly and open to any au’s             ✘ willing to roleplay in any style    novella, semi-              paras, one-liners, etc             ✘ nsfw of any kind is greatly welcomed/encouraged             ✘ please read rules

                                                                       …&& i am you

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      “Ooooh, mebbe’ I can, m’thinkin’ of chattin’ your ear off some more though! Surely you’ve got more patience than that!” He slinks on the most inane, spiteful, and horrible mimicry of the man’s accent; dabbling in deep waters here with the sharks, ay Peter?

        Atlas doesn't respond to the mocking, having already gotten extremely used to it from the houdini. it doesn't mean it doesn't piss him off    he's just learned how to react to it in other ways besides loud yelling and threats. he scoffs and even offers up a light smirk, but that smirk is gone the second he quickly yanks out his pistol and presses it against peter's forehead. 

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                                    " 'm sorry, what was that? couldn't really hear ya right the first                                         time. must be from all the shit fillin' my ears every fuckin' day. "
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✚ { whistles, beginning of akfaq }

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Stab with a knife / sword / blade.

        He’s not really surprised, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t angry. beyond angry, actually. he’s absolutely enraged. this fucking bitch had some goddamn nerve, he really had to give her that. she was bold, bolder than any other woman he’s ever met. it’s both a good and bad thing because it benefitted him but then she ended up doing shit like this. he had slapped her across the face and usually, she hits him back or leaves, but this time she decided it’d be better to stab him straight through the hand. he hadn’t even seen her get the knife, and it only took a second for him to process what just happened. he doesn’t yell (he almost does), he just grunts in pain and glares down at her with fury. he knows not to pull the knife out, and he’s just lucky she didn’t end up cutting a finger off and that this wasn’t his dominant hand.

                                               ” if ya ever fuckin’ do this again, i’ll slit your fuckin’ throat                                                  ‘nd use your damn blood to bathe. ya got that, bitch? ”

        if it had been anyone else, he would have killed them then and there. elizabeth is useful, though. he’s going to have to drown his anger in a box of cigars and a bottle, but that’s after he tends to this injury. he shoves his way past her, making sure to use enough force to make her stumble. 

                                                             ( he’ll deny it, but he’s extremely impressed. )

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        It'd been a struggle to get her hands on jackie. the girl was andrew ryan's daughter, of course she'd be heavily protected, especially because andrew knew people wanted the girl. those people mainly being francine fontaine, but she was dead now, wasn't she? the name and face were dead, sure, but the woman herself wasn't. she was just under the disguise of a different person. instead of being the successful, sleazy business woman, she was now the kind and compassionate mother who was leading the revolution of rapture. she was seen as a good woman in the eye of the public, but the men and women who were considered her bodyguards knew how she really was. they knew she wouldn't hesitate to snap their arm and shove a knife through their skull if they betrayed her or stepped too out of line. she didn't have to do much besides bark out orders to get jackie back in her hands. she'd been snatched out by her damn father just two years prior, but now, ryan wouldn't get her back no matter what he did, no matter how many threats he spewed or how much money he offered. atlas needed jackie to use her against the great "king" of rapture.

        she steps into the room and shoos her men out, grabbing a chair and pulling it up in front of jackie. she doesn't sit just yet, though. she gives herself a moment to take in the girl's appearance. she's changed a lot over the two years, and not particularly in a bad way. fontaine finds herself grinning, but it subsides just seconds later. she settles her hand on the girl's cheek and pats it a few times, making sure to keep her touch gentle yet firm. she's not going to untie jackie until she can make sure she won't cause a problem. atlas isn't worried that jackie will overpower her    she just wants to make this as much of a smooth ride as possible.

                                                      " pssst, hey, girlie. wakie wakie. sorry 'bout the blow                                                         on your head    me men don't know how to feckin'                                                         control themselves, apparently. ya alright? "

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