InsaneJournal

Yeah, I'll Be There, Shooting Up Your World
Who: Greg House and Rorschach
What: Two antisocial sociopathic-type grumpy angry men meet and JUDGE each other.
When: Late afternoon
Where: Near the clock tower
Rating: TBA.
Status: Active



Rorschach sighed heavily, his hat and neatly folded coat in the grass beside him and his mask sitting in his lap to dry, as he stole a rare moment of rest in the shade of the clock tower. It had been a difficult morning, and he had gotten a few hours of sleep in after taking Merope to see the doctor called Lexie. Now, she was resting, as she was doubtless supposed to after what she'd been through, and he'd decided to, as well. Physical exertion took its toll even on the most hardened and stoic masked heroes.

Rorschach's mask, or "true face," was the only part of him that he washed regularly. He had perspired a great deal in the spiking temperature, and he didn't want sweat to stain the shifting fabric. It would utterly ruin it to allow something like that. Without his mask, Rorschach was scarcely recognizable. He was in his mid-thirties, had high cheekbones, close-cropped red hair and sharp stubble, and shrewd blue eyes. He was fascinatingly ugly, with a blank expression that was more mask-like than his signature accessory. It was a face that had only been seen by one person in this place, so far.