rapturous-mind:

If there was one thing Rosalind could never get used to, it was the stale smell of sitting water that lingered in Rapture. There was no getting around it in the great city that was leagues under the sea. Honestly, it was much better then some of the barely understandable accents the citizens possessed.

The red haired woman gave a small sigh of breath, pushing the soft waves of hair from her face as she tried to focus on anything other than the soft dripping that her study contained.

"I was almost positive i sent word to have that repaired…" 

A soft rapping reverberated on the door, followed by a voice.

"Ms. Lutece? Ms. Lutece, are you home?"


intellectandwill:

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"Sorry I’m late, what did I miss?"

Looking over to the door, Steinman immediately sat up straighter, making sure his posture was acceptable to the Great Man.

"Ah, Mr. Ryan! Do come in, come in! No need to apologise. You’re the busiest man in the city, I’d wager.

How are things, sir? How’ve you been?”



Anonymous asked:
"When you were a child," the woman sighed, rubbing her aged face, "you used to speak in your sleep. Something about...a goddess. We were so worried. We thought you would outgrow it..." She couldn't even look at him. Her son...a disfigured mess. A disgrace. He used to be so perfect...what had he done?

She wouldn’t look him in the face. His own mother. The surgeon noticed and for some reason, it made him all the more frustrated.

"…If I had only knew then what I know now. Naturally, the feeble mind of a child wouldn’t be able to grasp the true concepts of aesthetic and form like a fully-matured adult would, but I’ve always been the outlier in school. I’ve always been wiser beyond my years. Surely you and father knew that."

He paused and yet she still kept her eyes averted.

"You honestly can tell me you believe what those people said. What the detective said. Everything I’ve done I’ve done for the patient’s best interest. I took an oath, did I not? Don’t all professionals in the medical field do so?!" His fists curled up at his sides. "…’Above all, do no harm’. And I have, even now, remained steadfast in that oath. I abide by my oaths and promises. I have done no harm, nothing wrong.”

Steinman moved closer to her, vying for her eyes. “…You don’t believe me, do you?” His tone grew angrier, louder. “You don’t believe your own son! An esteemed professional, a graduate of one of the finest medical schools in the country, honoured by the highest medical officials in the whole of the United States! And in western Europe!” By now, the doctor was fuming, pacing the floor in front of his weary, broken mother.

"…But apparently I’m just a liar and a fanatic to you…" The surgeon smoothed his hair back, leering down at her.

"…My own mother…”

…Why wouldn’t she look at him?

2 notes | posted 2 days ago | Reblog |


Anonymous asked:
you are a fugly motherfucker - your dad / get your face away from my titties you get the bottle - your mom

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Pretend to be my character’s mother/father in the ask box anonymously

sixoclockandtimetodie:

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Tagging preemptive angst.


falseshepherdrp asked:
He smirked and stood, taking his hat from his lap as he did. He had his trench coat draped over his forearm as he walked past her, tipping his hat. "Thanks phallus." He cleared his throat. "I mean Phylis~" He chuckled as he walked down the hall and into the Surgeon's office, a dumb smile plastered on his face. "Hello Doctor Steinman." He removed his hat once more.

falseshepherdrp:

cubism-as-medicine:

Two nurses had to restrain Phyllis upon hearing DeWitt’s remark. Of the two receptionists Dr. Steinman had, Phyllis was the fiercer.

The surgeon was busy organising his desk, shuffling a few slips of paper and placing his pens back in their dock, making sure they were snug in their holders. He looked up as the other man entered his office.

"Ah…so you must be this detective I’ve heard so much about," remarked the doctor, leaning back in his chair casually. "And to what, might I ask, do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the likes of you?"

Booker quickly lost his smile as he remembered what he came to his office for. He cleared his throat and stood, holding his hat in front of himself.

"Well sir. I hate to inform you, but you are under investigation for the death of Miss Scarlett Westley. I’m here on behalf of her family, friends, and the city of Rapture. Now. If you would please. Answer a few questions I have for you, seeing as she did frequent here a lot."

He reached for a chair before looking at him once more. "May I have a seat?"

Dr. Steinman was many things…but “intimidated” wasn’t one of them.

Folding his hands together he shrugged his shoulders. “Very well. But first…let me see some sort of badge or identification. You’re lucky I’m even giving you any time at all, for you see…you weren’t exactly penciled in my schedule and to-day isn’t a day for walk-ins.”


falseshepherdrp asked:
He smirked and stood, taking his hat from his lap as he did. He had his trench coat draped over his forearm as he walked past her, tipping his hat. "Thanks phallus." He cleared his throat. "I mean Phylis~" He chuckled as he walked down the hall and into the Surgeon's office, a dumb smile plastered on his face. "Hello Doctor Steinman." He removed his hat once more.

Two nurses had to restrain Phyllis upon hearing DeWitt’s remark. Of the two receptionists Dr. Steinman had, Phyllis was the fiercer.

The surgeon was busy organising his desk, shuffling a few slips of paper and placing his pens back in their dock, making sure they were snug in their holders. He looked up as the other man entered his office.

"Ah…so you must be this detective I’ve heard so much about," remarked the doctor, leaning back in his chair casually. "And to what, might I ask, do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the likes of you?"

3 notes | posted 3 days ago | Reblog |


unboundbymorality:

  The figure’s identity came a bit clearer now as well as the voice that spoke along with it. Steinman. A friend, a close one. He hadn’t mean to have been exactly harsh to him, but a scheduled appointment would’ve been quite nice… or some sort of note before stepping into his territory.

  Ryan, sighing once more (to calm himself this time), gazed upon his friend and shook his head.

        “No— Doctor Steinman, I’m fine. Maybe next time drop me a hint you’re stopping by and we wouldn’t have this issue at hand…
            Just come in… Have a seat here in front of me—

        I’ll be with you in a few seconds or so.”

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Just a bit timidly, the surgeon closed the door behind him, setting his hat on the coat rack and moving over to the chair the founder had indicated. Ryan seemed upset…even more so than usual. Frustration and irritation seemed to be the great man’s default moods, but to-day saw him even more distressed. Running an entire city, dealing with underlings, and handling the recent going-ons in his romantic life, Steinman wasn’t at a loss as to the reasoning behind his friend’s current mood. Ryan was under a lot of pressure all the time and he had the surgeon’s utmost admiration for handling himself so.

"I apologise for the unannounced social call, Mr. Ryan. However, I was in the neighbourhood so I thought I’d drop in. I’ll give you a heads-up next time.

…I understand that it isn’t really any of my business, but…is something troubling you? Outside of the usual, I mean.” Steinman waited a few precious seconds, wondering if he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries. “…I’m willing to listen if there is, sir. But I’m sure you know that.”


unboundbymorality:

  Ryan sighed. Paperwork flooded his desk with all signatures of the sort. Permissions and payments mostly— along with a good majority of complaints.
 
Silence surrounded him with the occasional sounds of pages flipping as he read over each word carefully, trying not to lose that long lasting patience of his.

  Finally the door to his office opened without warning from his dear Diane. Frustration creeped in him before finally glancing up at the new presence in the room.

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         ”What do you want?
                       I’m busy here—”

Removing his hat, Steinman nearly froze in place. Ryan’s tone didn’t sound quite as welcoming as it usually did when the surgeon called upon him.

"Oh, er…is this a bad time, Mr. Ryan?" he asked, gesturing with his hat. "I can leave and come back later if you’re busy or…stressed."