Participants:
| Scene Title | Once Upon A Rapture |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Samantha makes a delivery to The Rapture, then learns why they call it that. |
| Date | March 4, 2009 |
It's early still, barely mid-afternoon. Rapture hasn't opened its doors yet, nor will it for a few more hours. There's still work to be done, organizing to coordinate, people to boss around. All things Eliot is good at. He's standing in the middle of the dance floor with his current personal assistant — a girl named Susan whom he doesn't predict will last long — rattling off a list that she checks off. The club is more or less entirely empty save for some of the staff fixing things up for later in the night, and some of the cleaning crew finishing up the higher floors. It's well lit when it's not all dark with flashing, neon lights.
You can hear the bike coming before you see it, the loud roar of the engine getting louder as it approaches the club. She parks it in front and flips it off, and the scene is silent again. At least outside the club. She pushes the bike onto its kick stand and slips off. She pulls off her helmet, allowing her long flowing blonde hair to fall freely from the confines of the protective wear. She place the helmet on one of her rear view mirrors and moves to unfasten the box from the back of the bike. She takes a long moment to survey the scene, as is her habit. She finally steps up and peeks into the establishment before moving around to the side to the delivery entrance and gives the door a loud knock.
"Keep checking things off with Kyle," Eliot tells Susan. He slides off his bar stool and heads over to the delivery door and opens it. No sunglasses right now; but he's got a pair of slacks and an untucked white button-up, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Samantha gets a friendly smile from Eliot in greeting. "Hi! That for me?" He brow-lifts and motions at the package.
Her eyebrows arch up when the door opens. Well, hello there. "Unless I'm at the wrong "Rapture" then I'm sure this belongs here." the corner of her mouth turning up into a grin. She holds the package out for him to take it. She's dressed to ride with black jeans, white t-shirt with "Courier Express" logo on the front, and a black leather jacket. "This place yours?" she asks, curious eyes peering about.
"If there's another nightclub called Rapture, let me know," Eliot says with an easy grin. "I'll have to sue." He takes the package and reads the notifier, biting his lower lip. "Hmmm..?" He glances up at her, and then his face just… lights up when he grins at her. "Yep! S'muh baby." He glances over her shoulder at her bike, and then at her. "Y'need me to sign anything, sugar?"
Sam offers her pen over, then steps a bit closer to show where on the box he needs to sign. "Just by that X there, and I'll be on my way." she continues to grin. She reaches up to run her fingers through her blonde locks of hair. The only downside to wearing a helmet all day long. She lets her fingernails scrape against her scalp. "So, how hopping in this place? I might have to come by some evening, I mean, if you can sell me on it."
Eliot raises a brow up at her and grins again, wetting his lips as he signs his name. It's a short, but painfully complicated signature. He holds the pen out for her. "How hopping is the place? Let's see. I've got a line of about fifty people outside every night who never end up getting in," he considers, leaning on the doorway, box in his hands. "And over four dancefloors that are never empty." He lifts a hand: "But before you assume I'm bragging, or worse, exaggerating, you can tell me your name, I can put you on the invitee list, and you can come see yourself."
She takes her pen back. "Does kind of sound like bragging." she arches her brow up. "But, I kind of like that. She also takes the top portion of the signed paper off the box and tucks it into her jacket pocket. "But, I'll see if you are all you say you are." she reaches into the back pocket of her jeans and pulls out on of her cards. She slips it on top of the box. It has the Courier Express logo with her name hand written on it, and the phone number for placing deliveries. "When is the best night to come then?" she lifts her gaze up to meet his eyes.
His laugh is a soft chuckle; amused and charmed, both. He turns around and passes the package off to one of his staff, before turning back to her and taking the card. "Well Sam," he doesn't ask if he can call her Sam, "if you want a more low-key night, you want to come on a weekday. If you want to party hard and loud, you'll want to come either Friday, or Saturday." He looks over the card again. "Neat, I didn't even have to ask for your number," Eliot comments with a brief wink at her.
An amused expression comes across Sam's face as she gives a shrug. "Not that you can reach me directly at that number. But, if you ever need a.. delivery, feel free to ask for me. I'll come by at my earliest opportunity." Her eyes glimmer of mischief, when she turns to move down the steps before turning back. "Maybe I'll come by tonight. Check the place out. See if it's worth the hype." Her tongue comes out to briefly touch the tip of her upper lip. "But, I expect a grand tour.. by you, of course."
Eliot's smile widens a bit and he nods his acquiescense. "Sure thing, Sam. And I'll make sure to call if I ever need another…" He grins wider, giving a brief chuckle. "…delivery." He licks his lips and raises his brows, leaning against the frame of the doorway.
Biker boots kick at the dirt as she walks backwards, just holding that last bit of a glance towards him before she spins around and turns the corner to head towards her bike. "The Rapture, huh?" she thinks to herself. She'll definitely need to stop by here some night. She shakes her head as she reaches for her helmet, pulling it onto her head before hopping her bike, starting it up and heading on to her next delivery.
Eliot grins a bit and then closes the delivery door as he steps back inside. She'll be back. It's not called 'Rapture' for nothing, you know.
 March 4th: Value of a Life |
 March 4th: Leave it to Death |