Rapture Noir: In Revolt

The Kashmir was quite a different sight after hours. The dimmed lights and empty booths affected something of a somber cast. Contrasted against this solemn atmosphere were the sole occupants of the Kashmir; Three women huddled together in a booth, smoking, laughing, and conversing in riotous tones.

Margarette, a pale girl with dark brown hair cut in a boyish trim hunched her shoulders slightly and leaned across the table. "So, fancy seeing you here on a day off Lizzy. Things go sour with that lover of yours?" She inquired with a wry grin.

"Oh Margarete, hush!" Clarice responded, playfully slapping Margarette's shoulder. "It's good to see you Liz."

"It's good to see you too, Clarice. I've missed coming by to socialize, so I thought I'd make the time."

"Busy girl, huh? Maybe Margette was right about the lover..." Clarice took a drag from her cigarette and let the rest of her thought trail off.

Clarice's eyes brightened as she observed Elizabeth. A small smirk was making it's way up her cheek and threatened to become a full-blown grin. Elizabeth had been told she had an excellent poker face, but when it came to Booker she had an obvious tell.

"She is, isn't she? Come on, Elizabeth. You can tell us. What's he like?"

"Not everyone likes to kiss and tell, Clarice." Elizabeth replied, lighting up the last of her cigarettes.

Margarette cackled madly. "Oh, you are one to laugh, Margarete. Alright, point taken. But I'll get you to spill the beans eventually." Clarice chirped.

Drinks were refilled, cigarettes were shared, and the night marched on.

Margarette gazed up at the clock and started. "Shi-gosh girls, look at the time. You two and stay and have your fun, I have to work tomorrow."

"Alright, I guess we should call it a night." declared Clarice.

The thee women made their way through the welcome center and up to the elevators before finally splitting up. Margarette took her elevator and left Clarice and Elizabeth to themselves. Elizabeth was about to take her leave when Clarice stopped her.

"Hey Liz, are you free Sunday?"

"Maybe, did you have something in mind?"

"Well, me and a few friends get together on Sunday evenings. I think you might enjoy the subject matter. Come by the Gardner Delux Modern on Sunday around 8. I'll meet you there."



Elizabeth rubbed her elbows as she stood outside of the Gardner Delux Modern. It wasn't cold, but for some reason Fort Frolic always gave her the creep. Unless she could help it she made a point of avoiding the area.

"Hey, I'm glad to see you made it." A familiar voice called out. It was Clarice, ascendeding a nearby staircase.

"I thought it was worth checking out." Elizabeth replied in an even tone, putting out her cigarette.

"That's good. Come on, the security door is unlocked. Bernon just keeps it like that to keep up appearances, you now?"

Clarice slid open the security door and waved Elizabeth through with a 'ladies first.' The interior of the Delux was nearly pitch black, with only one corner of the room lit up by a small arrangement of lamps that illuminated several unfamiliar forms. Several of the people inside were talking, but stopped their conversation as Elizabeth and Clarice made themselves known.

"Hey gang, this is the girl I was talking about." Clarice declared, sweeping her hand in a grand gesture.

"Well, isn't this a treat?" The man with slicked-back hair and pencil-thin mustache Slurred through his cigar-clenched teeth.

"Elizabeth, this is Charlie, Anya, Winston, Bernon, and Harold."

Charlie grinned widely and raised his glass.

"Always a pleasure to meet a like-minded individual." Bernon mumbled, more to himself then to Elizabeth.

Winston, the man with the mustache raised an eyebrow. "You should invite new members more often, Clarice."

Anya rolled her eyes and patted the empty space on the couch. "Dibs on the new girl." She snapped, her voice surprisingly severe.

The group was situated around a small faux living room designed to show off a line of new casual wear for men and
women. The mannequins had been displaced and left in a pile near the heart in a fashion reminiscent of firewood. The thought amused Elizabeth slightly as she found a seat next to Clarice and the woman named Anya.

Harold cleared his throat "Like I was saying, Rapture may have been Ryan's vision, but he clearly doesn't have it's best interests in mind."

"How's the free market supposed to work when he just nationalizes businesses that he finds problematic? Is he going to do the same thing to me if he gets it in his head to start designing shoes?" Anya added.

Winston leaned forward excitedly "Exactly! We're all at risk here, wouldn't you agree Elizabeth?" He inquired, turning his attention towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. "I...think Rapture is in a great deal of trouble if the situation at hand isn't addressed."

Clarice smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Elizabeth's just nervous."

Winston and Harold chuckled softly.

If there's one thing that could be said about Harold, it's that they knew how to pontificate. Elizabeth wondered if he was always like this, or if that complementary gin had gone to his head. Probably the latter, from the way he was started to slur his speech.

As the conversation carried itself through the night Elizabeth started to warm up to the group. They were a bit of an odd group, but in general they seemed pretty harmless. She knew she'd have to keep an eye on Winston, though. He clearly had his sights set on her from the way he kept shifting the conversation back to her.

It was nearly midnight when the group started to disband. One by one members would excuse themselves until only Clarice, Elizabeth, and Bernon were left. At which point Bernon kindly requested that they adjourn the meeting.

Elizabeth began her walk home, but jumped slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry, didn't mean to give you a start like that. I just wanted to say that I appreciate you coming along. Feel free to come back next week. I promise Winston isn't always such a bore."

Clarice forced a bundle of papers into Elizabeth's hands. "Also, take these. If you're really interested in the cause maybe you can find some discreet locations to place these in. We want to spread the word without getting anyone in trouble, you know?"

Elizabeth stared down at the posters. The sheets of paper each depicted a broad-shouldered working man with indistinct features. A single phrase was splashed across the poster in bold text.

'Who is Atlas?