Home sweet home?
Who: Rorschach (as Walter) coldbeansnsugar, Meiran Chang forgotten_pilot, OPEN to the other residents of 3-36
What: It's about time for the vigilante to find his room... And there are other people involved as well! This can only end in tears...
When: Uh...
Where: Room 3-36
Warnings: None so far
Rorschach had no idea how long it had taken him to find the room he had been assigned to. But it didn't matter. At least it had left him with a fairly well idea of this place's size and parts of its layout. It certainly was... Huge. Huge to a scale that Veidt would approve of. If he would be here. Which didn't seem to be the case. Luckily.
Wordlessly, the vigilante looked down the hallway he still stood in, checking both sides for any sign of life or watchful eyes. Once he was sure there was no one around, he slowly, almost carefully pulled off one of his gloves, as if he expected there to be nothing underneath. There was, however, a real hand. Made from real flesh and bone and muscle. No bloody mess. No void. Nothing translucent or dead. And it was this that made the whole thing a little bit creepy.
The second glove followed and both went into the right pocket of his trench coat. Rorschach lifted his fedora. Hesitated. Then pulled off the black-and-white latex in one quick motion. And paused.
Once the vigilante was sure enough he wouldn't just vanish in a puff of smoke, he folded the mask neatly, before storing it away safely within one of his coat's inner pockets.
That done, he finally stepped forward to that door, pushing it open and entering the room with not much of an expression except for that somewhat grim frown that mostly could be found on Walter Kovacs' face.
What: It's about time for the vigilante to find his room... And there are other people involved as well! This can only end in tears...
When: Uh...
Where: Room 3-36
Warnings: None so far
Rorschach had no idea how long it had taken him to find the room he had been assigned to. But it didn't matter. At least it had left him with a fairly well idea of this place's size and parts of its layout. It certainly was... Huge. Huge to a scale that Veidt would approve of. If he would be here. Which didn't seem to be the case. Luckily.
Wordlessly, the vigilante looked down the hallway he still stood in, checking both sides for any sign of life or watchful eyes. Once he was sure there was no one around, he slowly, almost carefully pulled off one of his gloves, as if he expected there to be nothing underneath. There was, however, a real hand. Made from real flesh and bone and muscle. No bloody mess. No void. Nothing translucent or dead. And it was this that made the whole thing a little bit creepy.
The second glove followed and both went into the right pocket of his trench coat. Rorschach lifted his fedora. Hesitated. Then pulled off the black-and-white latex in one quick motion. And paused.
Once the vigilante was sure enough he wouldn't just vanish in a puff of smoke, he folded the mask neatly, before storing it away safely within one of his coat's inner pockets.
That done, he finally stepped forward to that door, pushing it open and entering the room with not much of an expression except for that somewhat grim frown that mostly could be found on Walter Kovacs' face.