InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Live long and prosper."

vc_player_npc (vc_player_npc) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-18 14:51:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 08, location: church, npc, open, rorschach

Who: clone!Tonks and OTA
What: First contact
When: Midmorning, Day 8
Where: Out and about in the vicinity of the church
Rating: TBA
Status: Active

The sensation of birth wasn't a short trip down a narrow slide. It didn't include being smacked on the bottom by a helpful doctor or getting toweled off and then coddled in the arms of some doting mother. No, it was simply the sudden sensation of being and, for this particular clone, it was simply being knee deep in rapidly melting snow. Dark eyes blinked slowly as a mind sluggish with disuse sorted through the mental filing system. She was a female clone by the name of Nymphadora Tonks, though she much preferred to go by just Tonks. She was a witch without a wand though she could still alter her appearance to suit her mood and her needs. She had allies and friends in this place, though none of them who couldn't be fooled.

"Gawdon Bennet! Wow! Amazing! OK?" She exclaimed in pleasure, then stopped and blinked. That didn't quite sound right, but she couldn't quite place just what was wrong. There was supposed to be an accent, right? Oh well. They knew what they were doing when they programmed her. "Bird lime ter get ter drives me bizurke, innit?"

Again, she frowned slightly at the sound of her own voice, but the oddity of it was shrugged away as she ambled through the snow. A quick glance ahead told her that she was heading for the church and she quickly decided that was fair enough; she could start on the outskirts of town and see what happened from there.

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walters_journal
2009-05-18 08:11 pm UTC (link)

Rorschach took his job very, very seriously.

Still, he knew that it was a bad idea to leave his partner Merope alone for too much longer. The girl was in a delicate condition following the conventional birth of her child, and she was understandably depressed from the fact that she had been separated from it so soon. However, following the close call yesterday (that heater could have been a powerful bomb, after all), Rorschach was even more on his guard. He knew that, while the community slept, forces were pulling at their livelihoods and trying to dismantle them. Someone was always trying to dismantle societies.

Skulking diligently around the outskirts of the town, he stopped when he noticed a woman with pink hair coming towards him through the melting snow. She seemed familiar, and he knew that she had at least been mentioned before on journals. Under his mask, he narrowed his eyes slightly. Women with unnatural hair colors were often deviants, and known for their scorning of the very society Rorschach fought to protect.

"Are Tonks?" he questioned gruffly.

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vc_player_npc
2009-05-19 03:51 pm UTC (link)

The sight of a large, masked man ahead caused the clone to come to a staggering halt. She cocked her head to a curious angle as her dark eyes took in the composition of his body but she found that there wasn't enough visual data to be able to make an informed decision. In light of that, she fell back to sorting briefly through her mental files.

It appeared that this one was known as Rorschach. She had not met him physically before, but she did know him from the writing journals. He had a reputation for being creepy and misogynistic but he also fancied himself something of a hero. The information flowed freely and she sorted through for that which would be most useful to her.

"Oi, You're a sight fer sawer dots an' dyes, aintcha?" She called as she waved one arm in an enthusiastic greeting. "Awright geeezzaa! You got ter 'elp me. Sorted mate."

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walters_journal
2009-05-20 02:22 am UTC (link)

If Rorschach appeared large, it was only because of the hulking way he dressed and the distance distorting his actual dimensions. Rorschach was, for a man and definitely for a superhero, unusually short. And, indeed, there wasn't enough visual data to truly analyze his physical form, since he was covered from head-to-toe in his customary fedora, mask, and trench coat. He spread his feet slightly, preparing for a possible attack as the girl approached.

He stared, though, when she started to speak. First of all, she didn't seem the least bit frightened of him, and that unnerved him. Usually, people were at least creeped out, and that worked to his advantage. Also, it flustered him that when she spoke, she didn't make a lick of sense. This was different from teenagers poisoning the language with slang; this was overkill.

"Don't understand. Are too reliant on ability to interpret colloquial and vernacular speech. Request more conventional style, or can't help."

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vc_player_npc
2009-05-20 05:07 pm UTC (link)

This was...odd. The masked stranger had seemed large to her from a distance but, as the not-Tonks closed the distance, she noted that it was merely a trick; he was actually rather small and not really all that intimidating, aside from the clothing and the strangely blotched mask. So then, why did the filing system seem to state that everyone was afraid of this so-called hero? There wasn't anything that bad about him. He was just kind of creepy.

"Oi, don't be a mug! You 'ave ter 'elp me befawer i' is an' all late late. Know what I mean?" She found herself yelling without meaning to and she forced herself to dial it back a bit. The fact that her accent seemed to be the problem irritated her but the programmers had given it to her so it had to be right. They wouldn't foul up something so easy, right?

Shaking her head, she again rummaged briefly before deciding on a new tact. "Those bastard wizards wen' an' put a babblin' charm on me! You 'ave ter 'elp befawer they 'urt anyone, innit."

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walters_journal
2009-05-21 02:51 am UTC (link)

Indeed, there wasn't much frightening about Rorschach in person. He even appeared a little bit shabby, up close. His true moments of inspiring fear in others came when he was in a dark alley with his vice-like grip crushing someone's fingers while his voice (a grating, rumbling growl that was far bigger than Rorschach's body) demanded answers to frightening questions.

He tilted his head, putting his hands in his pockets and relaxing his posture slightly as Tonks started to yell. This woman was odd, but clearly not someone to be feared, he thought to himself. She was, quite possibly, insane, since her words in person were very different from the way he had seen her speak on journals.

"Babbling, yes," he found himself agreeing, mostly because it was the only part of the sentence he really understood without having to think very carefully about it. "Are definitely babbling."

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