[His arrival felt like when Doctor Manhattan had transported him outside of his facility, the government home that he wasn't allowed to leave. He didn't care much for the big, blue man, besides the fact that he needed to wear clothes more often. He felt sick, like he might throw up. But that would entail lifting up his mask, even a little bit, and he couldn't do that.
Not now, when there were other people here. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned, though no one could see him do that. His mask shifted at the new distribution of heat on his face, and he looked down at the ground. His hat had fallen off, and he picked it up, putting it back on and standing up. He felt unsteady, but Rorschach wasn't about to let anyone see how much this was affecting him. His journal was still in his inner jacket pocket, and he could feel the familiar heft of his grappling gun.
He's not going to say anything. He's going to look around, no real expression despite the moving inkblots, and wait to be told something. There were people around, and he could read the signs on the fences. This might not be New York, but it sure did seem like it.]
10/7 Afternoon, around 3pm
Not now, when there were other people here. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned, though no one could see him do that. His mask shifted at the new distribution of heat on his face, and he looked down at the ground. His hat had fallen off, and he picked it up, putting it back on and standing up. He felt unsteady, but Rorschach wasn't about to let anyone see how much this was affecting him. His journal was still in his inner jacket pocket, and he could feel the familiar heft of his grappling gun.
He's not going to say anything. He's going to look around, no real expression despite the moving inkblots, and wait to be told something. There were people around, and he could read the signs on the fences. This might not be New York, but it sure did seem like it.]