Bioshock discussion

A park that Lamb made to recruit the artists of Rapture to her ideals.

Pam stepped into the room. Her bare feet were damaged beyond repair, a couple of broken toes and some scratched up ankles, but that didn't bother her much. She gazed up at the magnificent statue placed in the center of the lobby, turquoise light pouring over the algae covered women. She listened to the faint drops of water echoing much louder than it was throughout the room. The edges of her lips twitched upward slightly to form a small smile. She saw flashes of herself in art exhibits of her past; gazing at statues just like this. After a moment of appreciating the art before her, she quickly shook her head. She was here for some ADAM. Maybe she would find a Little Sister, and she would steal some ADAM without her daddy looking. When she failed to find anything in the room, she moved to sit on the statue's base.

Charles walked into the area. He looked around and saw someone sitting at the statue's base. He quickly hid and looked back at the mysterious stranger to get a better look. Is she friendly or an enemy? he wondered.

Pam leaned against the dress of the statue, closing her eyes blissfully as she drank in the natural light. Her legs lightly swayed as she began humming, her gentle, angel-like voice echoing throughout the large room. At the barely audible sound of the rustling of feet, her eyes shot open and her posture straightened abruptly. She narrowed her eyes and with a sing-songy, called out, "Whooo's Theeeere?"

Charles immediately ducked down. He started putting together a plan in case something went wrong. His eyes darted around the room looking for something useful. His gaze turned to a deactivated security bot. Charles then darted for the bot while reloading his six-barrel revolver.

Pam frowned, crossing her arms across her chest when she noticed the figure dart away. "No need to be like that. I have no ADAM, you don't look like you have any ADAM, so there is no reason to fight." She tilted her head with a smirk.

Charles stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly stood up and brushed off his suit and top hat. He slowly turned and held out a hand with his black and sliver mask glistening in the dim lights. "Greetings," he spoke, "my name is Charles Johnson. And you are?"

Pam gazed at his hand distastefully. Refusing to take his hand she just waved it away. "Um, Pam," She tipped her masquerade mask as if it were a hat. She glanced at his hat before flicking the rim of it. "You still like lookin' suitable these days, eh?"

Charles lowered his gloved hand and put his revolver back into his pocket. "Well sure," he replied, "just because were stuck down here trying to survive doesn't mean that we have to dress like animals." He took a step back and sat down on a nearby bench. The bench creaked loudly when he sat on it.

Pam smirked, resting a hand on her hip. "What makes us any different from animals? Aren't we all fighting for the smallest drop of ADAM, just as animals would do for a mere bit of food?" She flipped her full red hair over her shoulders, proud at the intelligent statement.

Charles replied with a grin, "Hmmm, I guess we are. Well I best be going now before a Big Daddy shows up. It was nice talking to you Miss Pam." Charles got up with a grunt and walked away with his cane tapping on the hard wet floor towards the underwater train known as the Atlantic Express .