(Untitled)

[curious_copycat]

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...

Comments

[fridgevigilante]

Rorschach had come to a decision. And if Rorschach came to a decision, it was final. No compromises allowed. And if there was anything threatening to change his mind about said decision, it had to go. Even if it was a memory. Old ghosts, what good were they anyway in a place like this

[curious_copycat]

At first it was not Polly who answered, but the door itself, speaking in a bright, upper-crust British accent.

"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

[fridgevigilante]

"Prefer coffee." Rorschach merely replied as he stepped into the apartment, closely followed by the large cat. Though Bubastis decided to take a different path than her human caretaker once they were inside. Curious as any cat would be, she rather went to take a look around, letting her attention get drawn in by the wind chimes and singing flowers easily. It seemed a welcome difference to her usual surroundings

[curious_copycat]

Polly examined the picture closely. She knew who it was. Mr. Rorschach--well, the Mr. Rorschach who she'd first known--had thought of him.

"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.