(Untitled)
Who: Polly (curious_copycat) and Rorschach (coldbeansnsugar)
What: Rory's asked the Eternal a favor. It must be pretty big, if he'd approach her willingly.
When: The day before the De-Aging Event started.
Where: Room 8-3
Warnings: He might try to choke her again? Hard to say...
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What: Rory's asked the Eternal a favor. It must be pretty big, if he'd approach her willingly.
When: The day before the De-Aging Event started.
Where: Room 8-3
Warnings: He might try to choke her again? Hard to say...
( Read more )
The vigilante took his time to get everything together he would need, as well as to pick up Bubastis again. She had been in good care with Kurt, but he couldn't just dump the feline on the boy forever. So the purple lynx followed the masked man closely, as he climbed up the stairs towards the eight floor in silent contemplation. The man's steps were slower than usual. But it felt appropriate. An appropriate pace for someone heading for his own execution.
Even though it wasn't really him, who was going to be executed. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. Made him feel like a goddamn traitor. But he wouldn't turn around now. Couldn't. And there was no hand on his shoulder to pull him back, and no one around to tell him this is bullshit and...
He stopped at the top of the last stair, hesitating.
Hesitating!
Growling in faint anger, he urged himself forward again.Because this was why he had to do this. To rid himself of this weakness. This dreaded soft spot that could possibly shatter his resolve and result in him making just the wrong decision.
Rorschach pulled his fedora down into his eyes as he stepped up to the room he was told to come to, Bubastis growling ever so softly as she followed. Not paying the cat much mind, he knocked.
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"Oooh, someone new! Delited to meet you! She hasn't had many visit--"
It was interrupted by being opened, the petite redhead's expression set in a smile, though there was a mix of wariness and curiosity underneath. The little vixen who had accompanied her to answer the door let out a whining sound at the sight of Bubastis and promptly darted back into the room to disappear into the shadows beneath the couch.
Polly watched after the animal, not liking Alice to be scared. Well, it couldn't really be helped, and the non-fox would be safe under there at any rate (so long as she didn't upset the mushrooms). The girl stepped back to make room for them to pass.
"Come in."
The Suites on the eighth floor were spacious and luxurious places--the height of living conditions on the Thor. Polly herself had taken the room for the solitude, as living on the lower floors had required room mates. After the loss of three of her nearest and dearest, putting some distance between herself and those she cared for--those she could still lose--and re-acclimating herself to living alone, had felt... necessary.
The living area was neat and tidy, its walls lined with many shelves of books. Two sunflowers, a small glass flower, and a star fruit plant sat on a table near the holographic window. All but the glass one appeared to be singing softly among themselves.
In one corner of the room, a few wind chimes had been hung from the ceiling, partially obscuring a sizable web above one of the book shelves. The web's owner sat on the shelf itself, watching them--a blue tarantula roughly the size of a kitten.
"Would you like some tea?" Polly asked.
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The vigilante as well took a quick look around, though his impression was less positive than that of the feline, apparently. He rather saw many personal objects that didn't serve any particular use as well as a decent amount of space wasted. Space that one person alone just couldn't fill. He rather approved of the sparse basic living arrangements he had been placed in. No wasted space. Just purpose. Agreeable.
And even though he was still basically signed in as a habitant of room 3-36, he hadn't been in there for months now, blantly refusing to share one room with those two underage girls he had first found himself to be roomed with. The park worked just as fine for him.
Stepping into the living room area, the man reached into his coat and produced a simple looking paper folder, still new, but the edges already frayed merely by getting carried around in one of those many pockets Rorschach's coat seemed to offer. He wasn't one to waste time by meaningless gossip. And as soon as this was over with... He could leave again and be on his way.
Rorschach opened the folder and pulled forth a picture before letting the folder drop on the small living room table and flicking the photograph on top of it. Taken right out of his memory. The thought was still disturbing enough.
The faint snarl was audible as he spoke "Need to forget that person. Entirely." he said, not really able to keep his yet hidden frown out of his voice either. Daniel wouldn't approve of that. And it might have been his imagination, but the image of his former partner seemed almost disappointed...
Maybe he's just finally lost it.
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"This is Daniel." she said softly.
Looking up from it, she studied the Rorschach standing before her, as if she might read some sign of his reasoning in the drifting black and white patterns of his mask.
"Mr. Rorschach... He was your friend wasn't he? Your best friend?"
Slowly, she sank down onto her couch, gaze turning back to the photo. Even if the image was not disappointed, she was... pained? Confused? Friends--real friends--were important... And the memory of them when they left... They should be cherished, shouldn't they? Not thrown away?
"Why would you want to forget him?" she asked, her eyes seeking his out, or at the very least where they would be if they weren't hidden.
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The man's face was straight as ever, even with the usual scowl somewhat deformed by a frown and the apparent presence of resentment. He didn't actually like this himself.
"Can't risk becoming sentimental." he finally answered, his right fidgeting with the latex in his pocket whilst he used his left to gesticulate vaguely "Friend: Yes. Also: Problem. World was rotten place. Apparent destruction most likely only salvation. Obviously better off exterminated. Daniel... Was a good man. Good partner. Good friend. Despite flaws. Noticed resolve crack several times as of late upon being remembered. Caught self reconsidering decision. Becoming willing to relaunch corrupted cesspit of immoral, scum and injustice the sake of one person. Bad. Very bad."
He fell silent after that for a moment, eyes wandering off elsewhere for a moment before he closed them with a grim tone creeping into his low monotone "Dead. Better remain that way. Save from world that doesn't know justice that way. Can't allow selfish reasons to interfere."
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After his explanation, she sat back in the couch, photo still grasped gingerly between her fingertips. She had seen the memories of many people, here, who had come from Earth. Most of them had been happy. Beautiful.
"Weren't... there other good people there, too? And other good things?"
She paused thoughtfully, focusing on the picture again.
"And Mr. Rorschach... How can you honor a memory you don't have?"
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The silence lingered for a few moments that Rorschach seemed to contemplate the question while watching the female sitting on the couch. His expression didn't change when he finally answered, but his voice had a bitter, yet sharp edge to it "Don't need to honor memory. Need to loose it. Remove potential weak spot to avoid getting soft."
Discussing this wasn't exactly what he had come here for. Too easily might he change his mind. So he merely added one more thing. A question, really "Can do it?"
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It was against her principals, taking a memory away. Particularly of someone important. And if Mr. Rorschach considered Daniel his only friend, that made very important...
But, she realized, as much as she'd looked up to Mr. Rorschach when she'd first known him, she couldn't be like him. She couldn't hold someone else to principles that were solely her own.
"I'll... I'll try. Like I said, it's nothing I've ever done. I don't know if any of my people have done anything like it."
She rubbed a thumb along the edge of the picture.
"If you don't want this anymore, I'd like to keep it."
If he wasn't going to honor this person's memory, someone needed to.
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He stood in silence for another few moments, recalling ten years of partnership and another ten years of silently watching without ever being seen. Because Daniel had never wanted to see. Even seemed afraid that night they had met again.
Afraid of his own partner. Friend.
Maybe it was for the better if he just forgot after all.
Producing what may have been a defeated sigh, the vigilante moved. Footsteps not making any sound out of pure habit as he went around the table to finally sit down next to the seemingly young woman, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the table in front.
"If this works," he began "Might get violent. Irritated. Confused. Know better than intending to hurt you." and there was another kind of bitterness in his voice now. Unfolding his arms, he reached into his trench coat once more and pulled out a neatly folded sheet of paper that he then placed wordlessly on the table, only to stare at it for some additional time before explaining "Note to self. Should be sufficient."
Finally, he turned his head somewhat to look at Polly, and nod "Try it."
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"Just try to relax." she said, quietly, reaching with her mind toward his. It was a mind she remembered well; changing it would never have occurred to her, and she could already tell that it wouldn't be easy. It was going to be like trying to take a single thread out of a tapestry without unraveling the whole thing.
Carefully, hesitantly, she tried to isolate the memories of Daniel and block them away. There were some things that she truly couldn't separate from them, and even then, the going was slow....
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The man closed his eyes and focused on the darkness right there. It was something familiar with an odd soothing nature to it. It was calm, quiet and free of everything. No disturbances. Just plain, simple nothingness. A neverending pit of blackness. All the dark places of the city. Places that have yet to see any light. That have yet to be cleansed from the scum dwelling in them. Places like this usually were as silent as they were dark. But the crimes taking place in them could still be smelled. Sensed. Traces of them to be found everywhere.
It was something he was used to. Something he could work with and understand. No confusion, just clearity. The clearity of evidence barely to be noticed by the common eye.
And as he continued through the darkness, Rorschach did not notice whatever was going on elsewhere in his mind. Which was probably for the better.
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She couldn't remove them entirely, but she could block them, lock them in a box, the way she would the photo. And, like the box, they could be opened, given the right key, or the strength to break through.
Finally, the last of them was isolated and put with the others, and she sat back, withdrawing her mind from his. Subconsciously her hand brushed the pocket hiding the picture, for now.
"It's finished."
[ooc: Like mentioned in the tag before, there might be some memories missing that were only indirectly linked to Daniel. It's up to you what and how that's handled, though.]
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Finished?
Just what exactly was she talking about? Rorschach made a face at the gap he found himself on. Just one of many he might stumble across soon, but that was something he didn't know yet. All he knew right know was, that he wasn't entirely sure why he was here right now. And just what it was, that had been finished. And not knowing was just something he wasn't exactly fond of.
He made a face, one grim enough to fit his dark mood, but refrained from any hostile action as of now. Instead, he settled for a question. One that he was almost sure that he'd not get a satisfying answer to, despite the underlying growl "What's finished?"
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"You wrote yourself this. I'm not sure what it says... but you told me that it... should be sufficient."
She held it out to him.
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Fine like this.
.⌉⌈.
Was all the note actually had to say in his barely legible handwriting. And since it was his own, there certainly was some bigger reason behind it. One he had just to accept. At least for the time being.
Rorschach still growled faintly at just having to accept things as they were, then nodded "Fine." and glanced back at Polly. He most likely owed her some gratitude or whatever, but it was hard to show said gratitude without knowing what to be grateful for and he wasn't one to just lie to people.
"Did what had to be done?" he asked, instead.
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"I did what you asked me to do." she evaded.
Standing, she walked over to the little table beside her window, extending a hand over the surface beside the glass flower and its accompanying plants. A swirl of particles and a small, wooden box materialized there. Slipping out the photograph, she slipped it into the box and locked it.
The key took the photo's place in her pocket.
She glanced back at him.
"It can be undone, if you need it to be."
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