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walters_journal ([info]walters_journal) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-08-06 16:41:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Current music:Emilie Autumn- "Rapunzel"
Entry tags:!complete, day 17, location: pharmacy/liquor store, rorschach, sam winchester

She's Been Quiet, Lovely And Good, But No One Listens Now
Who: Rorschach and Sam (open to Dean?)
What: Stoic grieving and tunnel mapping.
Where: Starting at the pharmacy/liquor store to get L's shovel
When: Day 17, around 9:00 P.M.
Rating: PG-13 for potential references to the past, swearing?
Status: Active.



Since the murder of a six-year-old girl during the dark and evil hours of night in New York, Rorschach had never once grieved a death. The stoic man had counted death as a part of life, and as something to be noted, occasionally avenged, but never an event to be cried over. In Rorschach's experience, when innocents died, it just meant that villains had to as well. As long as things balanced out, the world could go on, and Rorschach could go on living in it.

That was before. Since coming to Vas Captio, Rorschach knew that he was essentially the same person. He had seen Silk Spectre II come and go (he hadn't expected the coddled and temperamental daughter of that whore, Sally Jupiter, to last long without Manhattan, anyway), and he didn't particularly miss anyone from his old life. Expect maybe Daniel. Daniel had been a friend. His first friend... not his last. That distinction was not his, thanks to Merope, who had died thanks to his inability to save her. He thought about Laura Moon as he approached the liquor store, wondering if the dead woman was like him, mourning the death of a partner she had sworn to protect. Relationships in Vas were strange; quickly forged and strengthened through desperate necessity, and just as quickly forgotten when it became clear that one would never see a friend or even a lover ever again. Entering the old store, glancing around at the obviously deserted store, he noted a cardigan on the floor, a double-framed photograph of two men he did not recognize sitting on the counter, and a half-eaten box of sugar cubes. Not seeing Sam right away, he started to look around for the shovel, knowing that it belonged to a dead man whose face was already starting to fade in his memory.



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[info]demonboyking
2009-08-07 04:58 am UTC (link)
They'd surfaced from the tunnels empty handed. Worse, what had greeted them was the news that all of those on the screens had died in front of those that were watching. Sam had walked away to be alone. The thought that kept running through his mind was that he'd never get to see Shannon alive again. All the things he'd wished he'd told her kept surfacing as he walked through the woods and tried to sort through the conflicting feelings of grief and anger that was moving through him. It never should've happened. He never should've let her go off on her own.

It felt like someone had flipped a switch inside of him and suddenly Sam wasn't afraid anymore. He was too angry to be afraid. This place had been fucked up from the beginning, but this was too much. This was ten lives lost in acts of cruelty. He refused to get them the goddamn satisfaction, refused to play into their game of breeding fear and trying to get him where it hurt. He'd mourn the loss of his friends, of a woman who he had become attached to and had sworn to protect, and then he was going to get even. He was getting out. He was done with playing into the emotional manipulation. And he was done with making promises to people he couldn't keep. No one was safe as long as they were in the glass cage. To think otherwise was pure denial.

He felt weird claiming L's shovel, but it would be useful and in a way he thought L's permission to use it to bury Kaylee would've extended to him using it to try to get out. He felt weirder still about working with Rorschach, someone he'd come to disregard as a misogynist jerk who had more than gone over the line with Shannon in the journals. Still, it'd been obvious that he'd cared for Merope, even just be what had been written between them in the journals and no one could doubt that his reaction to her death had been sincere. Most of all though, Sam wouldn't have to worry about Rorschach being used against him. Not the way he would if it were Dean going down to map out the tunnels with him. Dean had said it himself, they were each other's weak spots. He was tired of being weak.

Sam stepped into the pharmacy, shutting the door behind him and looking around. A faint sound to his left caught his attention and he turned towards it. "Rorschach?"

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[info]walters_journal
2009-08-08 02:28 am UTC (link)
In truth, Rorschach was a misogynist jerk who had gone over the line with many in Vas Captio. However, he was also a strong advocate of justice, and seeing it disregarded so flagrantly by the bastards in charge of running the glass cage had done something to him. It had buried Walter and reinforced Rorschach. His fantasy persona, the person he'd always wanted to be, was his face, just as it had been his face after that terrible night in New York.

He wanted to see that dogs got put down. He couldn't wait to have wicked blood on his hands again.

He turned, his masked face unreadable during night or day, but especially eerie in the darkness. The black markings shifted and changed, reacting to heat, but no human features interrupted the pattern. "Sam," he acknowledged curtly, reaching behind a snack-food shelf and grasping a sturdy shovel, well-cleaned even though it had been used several times. L was, reliably, someone who took care of things.

Turning his collar up, silent and brisk, Rorschach crossed the room, shoving one gloved hand toward Sam. He was offering a handshake.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-08-11 04:10 am UTC (link)
Rorschach's mask surprised Sam and his brow furrowed as he watched it shift and change in the darkness. With the small bit of light coming through the window his face almost seemed suspended in the dark. His jaw tightened slightly as he stopped a few feet away from the other man and watched him retrieve the shovel.

That had been easy. At least L hadn't put it in a place where it was hard to find. He realized how little he knew about someone that had been in the cage just as long as he'd been. He knew there was something going on between him and Laura. He thought maybe that alone had been reason enough for him not to get too friendly with L. Not only that but he'd come across as cold and unfeeling in the journals, at least up until his friend had died.

Rorschach moved towards him with surprising quickness and Sam found himself yanked out of his thoughts with the sudden extension of the other man's hand. Sam took the offered hand and shook it. He wondered if he should say something about Merope, but instinct told him that Rorschach would want condolences as much as he would.

"Thanks for coming," he said instead, surprised to find that he meant it. He would've gone it alone, but there was a part of him that was afraid they might find what he, the Doctor and Dean hadn't been able to earlier. He didn't want to find the bodies of his friends alone.

He cleared his throat and moved into business mode as he started to examine the floor, looking for signs of a trap door. "These tunnels, they run underneath everything. Jenny said there are detention chambers, but she couldn't give me an exact location." He paused. "Or she didn't want to."

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