Who: Grinch!Schach and YOU!
What: General holiday festivities-inspired lurking and ruining. AKA a day in the life of a holiday-hating creepy vigilante
When: Breach...whenever!
Where: All. Over. Town. Wherever there's Christmas preparations happening.
Warnings: Inspired by
this, and also Rorschach is Rorschach. There will be ruthless destruction
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There's a creepy man in a trench coat and a weird moving mask following you now. He's trying to be covert about it. And failing spectacularly, mostly because he stalks for a few dozen feet than runs to hide behind something, then goes back to stalking after a minute or so.]
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[She peers behind her. What was that? She could have sworn she saw something purple.]
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He plucked a co-ordinated centerpiece from one of the tables and crumpled it in a gloved hand, as if offended by the color. The entire holiday was an exercise in excess, an excuse for the celebration of gluttony and vile self-indulgence. It was nauseating.
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Rorschach skulked in the alley, digging through the refuse piled in the dumpsters. There had to be something here he could use.
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So, when he spotted the familiar guy in the costume rummaging around in a dumpster, he asked in a curious voice, not accusatory in the slightest: "What are you doing?"
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Or accounted for. Ink swirled and danced in hesitation, uncertain jumps and shifts.
"Looking for something."
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"What?"
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He reached up to touch a bulb, bright blue, the twinkling in his hand offensive. He pressed fingertips together, popping the glass into shards and crushing them into a powder.
The string went dead. Under his mask he smiled.
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Grinch or Jack Skellington?
[ This question should clearly be self-explanatory. ]
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Disgusting holiday. Conspiracy by leaders of commerce to empty pockets of naive citizens.
[Is that enough of an answer?]
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Can't argue with that. 'Disgusting' is kind of a strong word, though.
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Anything's possible!
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