[Hai guys, you know those pants male New Feathers usually start with? The white cottony ones? Well instead of them being all snugly against his bottom where they belong, they are instead wrapped around his head in order to cover his face, which pretty much leaves the rest of his body completely naked in all it's scabby glory. He hasn't arrived in
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Scarred perverts wandering the streets, babbling nonsense. This place becoming more disturbing with each passing day.
[Rorschach isn't affected (he's too blunt and straightforward for me to come up with interesting thoughts that don't involve excessive violence), but I take it that he can see the thought bubbles.]
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Trench coat wearing dweeb accuses me of being pervert. His mask looks like it was designed by a four year old with a palm full of finger paint. I look down at journal. Debate whether or not to throw at face.
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Listen, I speak like a bajillion different languages. Could you please just use one where you don't sound like a caveman? [Of course, he doesn't know all of Luceti speaks just one language yet.]
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Hey, kid. Catch. [And then he's chucking that journal of his as hard as he can at the back of Rorshach's head]
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[He falls back on the ground, but soon afterwards he'll sit up]
Nah, I'm kiddin'. [He pulls the hook out of himself] Hey, nice shot. Think you took some of my spleen with that one. That gas powered?
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Hm... Odd. Should be in more pain. [He presses a button to pull the cable back in.] No time to fix now. Should focus energies on those who are evil, rather than just annoying.
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