((Alright I'll just get this party started since we already know the plot...))

"Open this door right now!" A spliced up woman said as she pounded a door with her lead pipe in hand, "you know damn well I'm supposed to- AUGH!!!" She screamed as she suddenly grabbed her head and shook with anger. Hitting the door one more time with her weapon it resounded with a loud 'clung!' her white knuckle grip only seemed to tighten like a vice. It was almost disturbing but Glenn already knew there was nobody behind the door. Well someone used to be there but that wasn't the case anymore, she was probably screaming for someone to let her in to see exactly what Glenn was here for. The Hunter was standing a little ways away on the other side of cascading water, his chameleon gene tonic was working to full effect as he stood still. Raising his crossbow up to his shoulder he was completely silent like an owl, the splice effect wearing off sensing motion revealed him completely. His old fashioned fedora hat was tilted a bit down on his head as he closed his left eye the large scar running just below his eye practically to his ear cut through his sideburn. Brown hair stuck through but not long enough to get in the way of his icey blue eyes, the crossbow cut through the water like butter as the small crosshairs that had been modded onto them matched with the woman's head. Taking in his breath Glenn took his shot, the bolt pierced right into the back of the woman's neck as she fell limp. Glen shook his head as he walked over avoiding the water in front of him so he didn't get his black dress shirt wet. Glen placed his crossbow on his back using the makeshift harness he wore made from brown belts.

His old black boots seemed a little too big for him and his pinstripe slacks were tucked into them, it was hard enough to navigate rapture without slipping on every surface. The right knee on his pants were missing and the left had a patch of his right arms sleeve on them. Crouching over at the dead woman he saw that the tip of his bolt had shattered, "Damn..." He muttered as he stood up knowing the arrow was useless. It was obvious the door wouldn't open regularly but something was in there, "Maybe ADAM?" Glenn said to himself. Looking about he noticed there was a grating near the floor with some water coming out of it. Giving it a good kick the grate collapsed and skirted back a bit laying down he had to stay low to crawl into the small opening. Making his way through and after a sharp turn Glenn found himself behind the door. To his surprise there was nothing inside just a bunch of opened desks and some filing cabinets. Taking a few steps in he accidentally kicked something, looking down it was a yellow folder. Picking it up some of the papers were already falling out. Taking the documents to one of the ravaged desks he placed the folder down opening it to read. His camouflage activated once again as he stood there reading.

"A movement of the mysterious sea slugs..." His voice trailed off a bit as he continued to mumble whilst reading. The documents had a bunch of other $5 words but Glenn was able to get the jist of it. Apparently Lamb and other researchers were moving a large amount of the Slugs that could convert ADAM to try and figure out a better way to use the idea, and possibly get rid of the little sisters. "Hmm..." Glenn though as he picked up the documents looking over to the source of light in the room, though there were some dimly lit lights there was a fire burning next to someone's dead body. Glenn walked over to the small fire and tossed the documents into it. The flames jumped up and flickered from the source of food, Glenn turned on his heel and began to walk away. Shrugging his shoulders he adjusted the crossbow on his back before opening the door and leaving the room. He wondered what he could try and track down of the ADAM movement and try to land some for himself. Hearing a small clattering of junk Glenn looked down the hallway, something had knocked over a trash can. Taking cover Glenn made his way away from the source of noise in order to not be seen, the man had tried very hard not to be seen or heard for a very long time here in rapture.

Peering around the corner of the hallway, Cora could see a horribly misshapen woman banging on one of the doors a little ways down. Her yelling was slightly louder than the water falling from the ceiling and Cora shook her head at the desperate display. A small gasp escaped her lips as the woman was suddenly silenced by a crossbow bolt, her limp body falling to the ground with a 'thump'. Her attacker materialized out of nothing and walked up to the body to retrieve the bolt, but stopped and made a sound of disappointment. "The Hunter..." she breathed upon realizing who she was looking at. He was a ghost among the splicers, the only one capable of getting his hands on a camouflage plasmid. His title was carried on by splicers who have seen him in action, and he was feared by everyone who has ever heard of him. As soon as he had vanished into the vent next to the door, Cora returned behind the cover of the wall, and leaned her back against it for support. She sighed and flexed her grip around the pistol in her right hand. "He seems pretty well off, don't you think? Probably has a decent amount of ADAM on him...Can't be as tough as they say he is, right?" as she finished her question she looked up to the two bots that bobbed close to her. "This is The Hunter we're talking about, but we may have a chance here," the bot named Jimmy sounded optimistic, "There's three of us, and only one of him."
"More like two of us, and a walking target. She's useless with that gun, and one bolt each will easily finish us. We don't stand a chance. And to add insult to injury, he'll probably have his way with your dying body. As you're gasping your last breath, the last thing you'll feel is him, violating you. Best to just keep an eye out and wait 'til he leaves," this bot, Jordan, was the voice of reason; harsh, honest reason. Cora cringed a little at the image, "But one bullet through the head, and all of his ADAM is ours," she tried to ignore the desperation in her voice. "Did you not hear anything I just said? If he gets you, then we're all dead. This is suicide and you know it." Jordan stood against it firmly. "Fine, we'll have it your way. Just have to make sure he doesn't see us," she lifted the gun in her hand and examined it. It was just an ordinary pistol she had picked up off of some dead body.

She looked around nervously, it wasn't safe to stay in one place for too long, you never knew who could be watching. Looking back at the gun, she rubbed a smudge of filth from the barrel and sighed. She was much better at melee combat than ranged combat, but she figured bullets were more deadly than blunt force. "Bullets are only deadly if you can actually hit people with them, you know." Jordan hovered close to her face, his propeller pushed the calm air around her head. Cora gave a look of distaste, she hated when he outwardly addressed her thoughts like that. She thumbed the knot in her shoulder bag's strap and followed it down to the actual bag. Looking inside she found that she still had a few EVE hypos left, a single first-aid kit, and some wads of bills she had picked off some corpses. The hypos gave her a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, she hated sticking herself with the thick needles. She found herself staring at her reflection in the big puddle that filled the hall. She cringed at her appearance; Her dirty blond hair was pulled up in a messy bun, stray pieces fell to frame her scarred face. She could barely see the remnants of make-up around her eyes and lips. The black dress was cut low and showed off her pale shoulders. The bottom of it had several tears and rips from her scuffles with other splicers. Thankfully, her shoes hadn't completely fallen apart, but she wasn't against finding a new pair. She walked back over to the edge of the hall to keep an ear out for The Hunter. She peeked back around the corner and found the hallway still empty.

Upon hearing the sound of the door unlatching and squeaking open, she jumped back, startled. The sudden movement caused her to bump into an empty trash can, which toppled over loudly and rolled down the other part of the hallway. "Oh now you've gone and done it. It was nice knowing you." Jordan bobbed angrily next to her. "We're all gonna die!" Jimmy panicked as he whirred around in a small circle. There was no way The Hunter hadn't heard that. Cora gripped the gun and readied herself for a possible confrontation.

(( Forgive me guys, this is my first time RP'ing, and let me know if any of the characters I might roleplay are to Mary-sue. These guys are temps 'cause I still can't think of a decent OC yet. ))

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Johnny could feel it. Rapture now seemed like a foreign entity. It's once bustling streets were full of people on a daily stroll, maybe picking up a few souvenirs or two for the kids. But no. This place changed. The whole place was now like a fishbowl, punctured at the seams where the plastic met. Jesus, this place was going to hell. "Shit. I barely recognize this place.", he thought. Rubbing a temple. This must've been a naive way of thinking compared to others. Oh yes, there were others. Others who were just like him. Wandering, just aimlessly wandering. Trying to get a fix on anything now, but one thing struck everyone's minds. ADAM. "I wonder if this is what a cigarette is like. And how it reels you in when everyone else is doing it. Damn pressure of it all.". He couldn't focus. Everything seemed so different now. His memory was a bit fuzzy to.

"Get a hold of yourself now, Johnny. Yeah Johnny. Johnny..."
Now it was coming a bit back to him. That's right.. I changed my name. I hated that filthy name. It didn't suit me. Yeah.
Johnny Gioli, that's what he called himself now. Better to have an Alias, you never know what could happen. Sofia Lamb now had spies everywhere, patrolling out in the sea, and even indoors. More and more splicers were now getting the bright idea to leave the city. He wasn't dumb, oh no. He knew where ADAM was. He knew how to get it to, but there was always something that bothered him about it. Those little girls, he couldn't bring himself to harm a hair on their little heads. To others, they looked like a nice bucket of ADAM, just waiting to be emptied. But to him, they caused grief. Most splicers had no family left, they all slaughtered their loved ones hoping for a fix. He had a feeling in his gut that she was still alive. He wanted to believe she was still alive. She didn't deserve to be treated so poorly by him. Grief, grief now enveloped him. He had been in Rapture's jail, Persephone for so long now, he felt numb to everything but grief. Even the gentle breeze's that would lick his face from the many vents filtering fresh air from Arcadia. He was determined now, if anything to find her somehow, someway. After what he caused his parents in the past, and especially her, it was the least he could do. To redeem himself, to get rid of the grief, and perhaps even to feel a weight lifted from his shoulders. ADAM was the way now though. The only way to have a chance against others. Anyone could hold a gun to your head and pull the trigger, but if you had a small dose of SportsBoost, you would be the one holding the gun. Life or death was now a virtue down here. And so, to join the game, you must have the same mindset as everyone else.

He had been wandering for days now, or what seemed like days. The moonlight didn't shine very well down here, in the deep cold ocean. He didn't care where he was going, as long as he'd find some spare ADAM without hurting one of those girls. The hallway he was walking down seemed to get darker. One light hung from the ceiling , flickering, little sparks made their way down from the ground where the gently cascading water fell from the cracks in the ceiling. Little puddles splashed as he trudged through him. Lazily carrying his pair of hedgeclippers at his side, he probably looked like a villain from a slasher movie they used to play in the ol' cinemas. The blades were slightly rusted, probably mishandled from their previous owner. Rapture was now a place where stealing off the dead's back might make you all the more likely to survive. Blood stained the handles, a darkened shade of crimson, almost the same as his blazer. His undone tie swung loosely with each step, dangling like a clock's pendulum. His scuffed tattered dress shoes made hushed squeaks when colliding with the ground, slightly hidden by his pants. He was lucky to have found clothes that fit him, though the smell was a bit unbearable. His hair had grown long while in Persephone. Appearance didn't mean much now though, so he let it grow longer, never bothering to cut it unless it impaired his vision.

This hallway seemed to continue on forever, but the quiet pitter patter of water falling down from the ceiling was interrupted by a sudden clutter. A trash can rolled by ahead, in the intersection that led to the lower atrium. Johnny quickly braced himself against the nearest wall, ready for some crazed hooligan to run around the corner, barreling towards him with a crazed look in their eye and a chip on their shoulder.

.....

Nothing. He saw nothing. Easing up a big he began to hear another sound, something he wasn't familiar with. An odd whir of sorts, like someone was cranking a whinch to a fishing boat. But what could it have been? Machine's weren't common around these parts, Lamb had made sure to only program them to attack those who were not part of the Rapture Family. Could it have sensed him somehow? Possibly seeing him from some crack in the wall that he wasn't aware of? He breathed softly for the next few minutes, unaware that nothing was watching him. His body relaxed.. but he gripped his hedgeclippers harder than he ever had before. He had a bad feeling about this...

Glenn stayed and watched the scene unfolding in front of him. His camouflage had already kicked in and he stayed perfectly still, his watchful eyes monitored the other two people hiding from one another like rats. The young man in front of him was the closest and had passed him on the way to his hiding place. Glenn held back the urge to say "Boo!" behind him but instead stayed still waiting for an opportunity to leave. The white knuckle grip this guy had on his hedge clippers told Glenn that he shouldn't mess with him right now. The Hunter was all for scaring the local populace but not if it got himself killed. Putting two fingers together Glenn made very sure not to move very quickly as to not break camouflage. Making sure it was very weak The Hunter put a cyclone trap under the broken suitcase near the young man. Waiting for it to trigger the suitcase suddenly jumped from its place into the hallway, opening and sending old pieces of clothing all over the place.

Taking this as a cue to leave Glenn made his way out of sight and to a ventilation shaft nearby. Crawling into the small square Glenn just knew he needed to make a break for it, taking on two splicers probably wasn't the best situation to be in. Splicing had been such a trend that anyone left was either crazy or extremely powerful through their splicing. Crawling through the vent he stopped to listen to what he had caused. These splicers came to this area, Glenn also stopped to see if maybe one of them knew about the sea slugs that the documents had talked about earlier. Crawling a little more he found a vent to look through. Eventually he heard his natural camo activate and he was invisible once more, the gene tonic was extremely useful around the broken underwater city. The Hunter had spliced himself up good but had never bothered using it to change his appearance, he had the feeling that was the sole reason he didn't look like many of the other splicers did now swollen and covered in marks. The only distinctive mark of Glenn's splicing was his addiction to EVE, he had a few track marks on his arm from stabbing himself with EVE hypos and was addicted to cigarettes knowing they helped restore EVE.

Even now Glenn wished he had a smoke as he watched the two rapture citizens in front of him. The Hunter had gotten very used to moving extremely slowly or very little in order to maintain his chameleon like gene tonic.