Rorschach is "Mike Caulfield" (whisper_no) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2010-10-31 15:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, eric draven, lois lane, rorschach |
Who: Rorschach and anyone that wants to talk to Rorschach!
What: Scouting out the party, open thread
Where: Centro
When: The end-ish of the masque, Halloween night
Warnings: Awkward Rory.
After dropping off the burglar in front of the police station, Rorschach changed course for Centro. The feathered couriers had given him an invitation to the masquerade while he was at work in Phantasia, resulting in a number of strange looks. Though Sam had shown interest in going, Rorschach hadn't. Masks were not for parties. They weren't for fun. Masks were identities, and identities were masks. If he didn't surround himself with demons and whores on a regular basis, why would he make an exception for one night?
As he approached the party, he remembered the All Points Bulletin released by the police: no vigilante costumes. Hesitating, he ducked behind a dumpster and pulled off his face, crumpling it into a ball and shoving it into his jacket. He collapsed his hat and haphazardly stuffed it in after his face, ignoring the balled-up bulge they both left in his pocket. Realizing that he still was wearing his jacket, he removed it and turned it inside-out, exposing the frayed seams and all the wear and tear it had suffered over the years. He put on the inside-out jacket, reaching up to muss his hair. As an afterthought, he removed his left glove to wear only the right one.
Perfect.
He entered Centro as if he were supposed to be there, giving a grunt and nod to the pixie in the Champagne room. When she offered to take his coat, he hesitated, not wanting to lose sight of his face. He touched the wrong-side lapel, raising his voice just slightly to be heard over the din of the party winding down. "Part of costume," he said with a nod. She nodded in return, waving him on through. The party had progressed enough that nobody seemed concerned about giving him a mask, though he grabbed one anyway for the sake of it. It was a black one, simple and unremarkable. He settled it on the bridge of his nose - still healing from the break it had suffered recently - and began to move awkwardly through the crowd, ears open for anything of note.