(A Bioshock one shot.
In Bioshock 1 and 2 you go in like a dozen or so places in Rapture total, but in pictures of the city there are way more than that. So I decided to make up my own district of Rapture: Io's Alter)
"Today, ladies and gentlemen, marks the one year anniversary of the death of the two most important, and destructive, men in our history: Andrew Ryan, and Frank Fontaine. If you look out any window you can see the seeds of their destruction. An entire city, crumbling into the sea." Governor Fitzwilliam paused, and looked at the faces of his people. No, they didn't need reminding of what was lost. The man placed his palms on his podium and continued.
"Hephaestus, gone. Athena's Glory, destroyed. Apollo Square, in ruins. The greatest city to ever exist on earth itself is dead, or , I should say, almost dead. We, the residents of the last standing arm of Rapture, remain. Io's Alter, the bread basket of Utopia, remains." Hold for applause.
Io's Alter, Fitzwilliam never would have thought they would hold out. But thinking back, it really isn't that much of a surprise. The Alter even now is the main pipeline for food for the rest of the city. Arcadia might have had some fine vineyards and pretty flowers, but it is Io that gives the city its bread and milk. Well, milk and bread substitutes. It really is amazing what a little genetically enhanced seaweed can do. Dried, powdered, and bleached it looks just like flower. Mix it with the real thing in the right amount and it doubles the milk supply that the few cattle in Io provide. Those two things give the city substance, and Fitzwilliam has been kind enough not to shut out the rest of Rapture from them. The rest of the city may be overrun with ADAM crazed maniacs, but he would not be the one to starve them. Their tainted blood would not be on his hands. He and his people continue the production of snacks and treats sold through in the vending machines, and nobody goes hungry.
"You, by the sweat of your brow and toil of your hands, have survived. By our foresight we have survived. From the first moment those awful little girls, those abominations and their horrid metal fathers set foot in the city Io's Alter cut itself off. Those monsters never entered our home, and they never will!" More applause.
Cut off, yes, Io's Alter was cut off, and Fitzwilliam was more than willing to allow his people to believe that it was by their own doing. They are simple farmers, laborers of the soil. They did not need to know the truth. At the offset of the war, both Ryan and Fontaine were dying to get their hands around Io's throat and starve out their enemy. To prevent this from happening, all walkways and entrances to the Alter were blown to the bottom of the Atlantic. Ryan intended to rebuild them after the war was won, but that plan obviously did not come to fruition. Now, only the Pneumo systems that take food to the various vending machines throughout the city are the only connection between Io and the rest of Rapture.
But it was this isolation that kept the scourge of ADAM and splicing from the residents of Io's Alter. Never did a single drop of the stuff enter their home. Before the war, the people here could not afford or did not want to splice. Why would they? The people in Io were different than the rest of Rapture. They all came down here to be captains of industry, movie stars, or tennis champs. The people of Io came simply to farm, farm and escape the surface. And now they were the only segment of the city still completely human.
"One year, one year since those two men fell dead. They took paradise and turn it into hell. They got…what they…disserved!" Cheers of admiration. "Both men tugged and tugged the city, the pulled and pulled until it ripped. And now as it lays dyeing, full on lunatic ADAM junkies, we sit and we watch. We watch as Rapture falls into the abyss, and Io's Alter rises." And yet more cheers. Fitzwilliam is a hell of a public speaker, no wonder the people elected him governor after Ryan's death. He could spin a pretty speech, and make these farmers feel safe even as the rest of the city rotted away.
The good governor threw up his arms for a final round of cheers, bid the people good night and stepped behind the curtain. They would all go now to Hestia's Hearth, the best eatery in the Alter, to celebrate. But Fitzwilliam was exhausted from his speech, so he quietly made his way back to his flat. He quickly walked past the Hestia's, being sure not to catch anyone's eye. He took a short cut through the granary and looked at the machines working through the night. They kept him and his people afloat, they were all that stood between them and certain death.
Governor Fitzwilliam made his way through the mostly closed down shopping district, until he came to the worker's quarters. The elevator didn't work anymore, but this did not bother him. He needed to get more exercise anyway. Eventually he got to his modest home on the sixth floor.
It was no different than any other, perhaps a bit more spacious in certain parts, a nicer make of bathroom fixtures, but still for the most part just like everyone else's. Out his open window he could still hear the celebrations of the people rejoicing the death of the two tyrants. He poured himself a small glass of scotch, it was a special occasion after all, and sat down on his sofa. He turned on his fire, he loved how it filled the room almost instantly with light and warmth, and then leaned over to flip on the radio.
For a year, the radio waves were mostly empty. But occasionally they did pick up an odd song here and there. Maybe one from a ship overhead, or a still somewhat functioning Rapture station. There was one channel that always "Rise Rapture Rise", but that got tiring after awhile. So Fitzwilliam was very surprised when he turned the dial and right away heard a voice.
It was not singing, or reading the news. No, the voice on this radio was talking about something entirely new, something strange. Fitzwilliam listened, and slowly became uneasy. He wondered if this voice would endanger him and his small community. He didn't even sip his drink. He just sat there listening until the broadcast was finished. He heard the last words spoken, and could not help but think that Io's Alter days of peace and survival were in jeopardy.
"I am Dr. Sofia Lamb, and my family, your family, the Rapture family have now gained control of the city. So I ask any who can hear this broadcast, join us. Together we are strong. We are the family. And we are everywhere."