Well, listen. It's unlikely he'll see anyone first. But he'll certainly hear a sharp grating sound, like metal over concrete, and then a sharp, loud thunk.
Someone is having a hard time disassembling an old generator. Wesker just made a lot more noise than he wanted to. There's movement in a nearby building as he looks out from a window.
One does not live the life of a vigilante as long as Rorschach has without developing certain instincts, and keeping them forever sharp as a knife's edge. At the first sudden suspicious sound while passing a few severely run-down and seemingly abandoned buildings, he reflexively bolts for cover behind a ruined stretch of brick wall.
Someone is here. Very well. Time to look for answers, if there are any.
After a few moments, he risks another look at the building.
There's someone coming out from the window, now. Wesker heard a scuffling sound, although there wasn't enough noise to tell him the size of the creature. But he smells a human. So he leans back against the windowsill, waiting. He's relaxed. He moves with total confidence. (Some of that is probably recognisable as stemming from martial ability, depending on the recognition ability of his audience.)
There's no pursuit of whoever's out there. But no hiding, either. He doesn't recognise the scent in the air, despite several weeks in the apartments.
Wesker just loves being the one to make first impressions.
Rorschach has spent some two decades learning to read the skill level of an opponent, and while this stranger is no opponent yet, he can see enough. He can also see that the man isn't going anywhere now, and does not appear to be armed. There might still be some danger, but he doesn't have it in him to care.
He steps calmly from his hiding place, placid shifting shapes of his face revealing nothing, save perhaps the unnerving associations a viewer might make among the patterns. He does not approach, merely places his hands back in his pockets and asks in a horrible flat voice: "What place is this?"
There is another figure in a worn, brown trenchcoat wandering through the wilderness. And like Rorschach, he also wears a mask--except his is made of bandages that come to a peak on top of his head. He meanders around the dusty landscape, occasionally stopping just long enough to scribble something down on a small peace of paper with an old pen that is quickly running out of ink.
Schwarzwald begins to work his way down a small hill when he notices the newcomer. He lets out a quick laugh when he sees the man walking through the wilderness, no doubt toward the apartment complex that was the only civilization in this lost world. "So, this world has claimed another soul!" he calls out to the masked man. After all, he might know something worth noting.
There is no hiding this time--too little time and too little inclination. Neither does he seem at all startled by the sudden voice in the wasteland, or the man's strange appearance. Odd costumes are not all that odd in his New York.
He simply pauses, posture stiff as always, voice a rough toneless rasp. "Hunh. Believe in souls, do you?" as though this were all perfectly ordinary.
Schwarzwald chuckles to himself. "Belief has nothing to do with the truth. Whether or not I believe in them doesn't mean that they actually exist." He begins to slowly walk toward Rorschach, toying with his pen until he has something to write down. "If I discover that souls are the truth, then I will believe in them. Until then, I will continue to use the term as a mere figure of speech."
Rorschach still does not move, nor does his voice change, but the patterns almost seem to slow, just a little, just for a moment. It is, perhaps, what listening looks like. "And if discover they do not? How high a price paid for even terrible truth?"
Comments 50
Well, listen. It's unlikely he'll see anyone first. But he'll certainly hear a sharp grating sound, like metal over concrete, and then a sharp, loud thunk.
Someone is having a hard time disassembling an old generator. Wesker just made a lot more noise than he wanted to. There's movement in a nearby building as he looks out from a window.
Reply
Someone is here. Very well. Time to look for answers, if there are any.
After a few moments, he risks another look at the building.
Reply
There's no pursuit of whoever's out there. But no hiding, either. He doesn't recognise the scent in the air, despite several weeks in the apartments.
Wesker just loves being the one to make first impressions.
Reply
He steps calmly from his hiding place, placid shifting shapes of his face revealing nothing, save perhaps the unnerving associations a viewer might make among the patterns. He does not approach, merely places his hands back in his pockets and asks in a horrible flat voice: "What place is this?"
Reply
Schwarzwald begins to work his way down a small hill when he notices the newcomer. He lets out a quick laugh when he sees the man walking through the wilderness, no doubt toward the apartment complex that was the only civilization in this lost world. "So, this world has claimed another soul!" he calls out to the masked man. After all, he might know something worth noting.
Reply
He simply pauses, posture stiff as always, voice a rough toneless rasp. "Hunh. Believe in souls, do you?" as though this were all perfectly ordinary.
Reply
Reply
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