overtones of exasperation
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09 Jun 2018
Nobody runs Rapture anymore. There's no more Little Sisters to harvest, no more value in the leftover trinkets of the wealthy, no more treasure in the sunken ship. There's no more food, no more repair crew, and eventually there won't be anymore oxygen. The splicers are eating anything they can get their hands on, even each other. They're splicing up to breathe underwater, even if they're not entirely sure why themselves. There's no one left who's sane enough- no, there's no one left who's crazy enough to run Rapture. It's a true democracy, a true communism, a true anarchy.
There's pros and cons to this- even ignoring the uncomfortable and conflicting fact that the few splicers left are usually too busy going hannibal-cannibal to try and attack them. Pro: there's no one to work against them, the way Fontaine and Ryan had worked against jack or the way Lamb had worked against Delta Con: there's no sense of order in any way, shape, or form, so it's a little bit like trying to fly a kite in a tornado.
Sometimes, the wind pulls you backwards.
Eleanor can't take it anymore- she's going back to Rapture and she's not coming home until she's found Elizabeth.
She gets much more than she bargained for.