Rorschach (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aprettybutterfly) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-12-10 09:28 pm
aprettybutterfly) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-12-10 09:28 pm
Entry tags:
Someone needs a job...
Who: Rorschach and Walter Kovacs (aprettybutterfly) and Alice Cullen (manicpixiedreamgirl)
When: December 10th, around midday.
Where: Outside of Alice's dress shop.
Summary: Rorschach already has a job. Walter doesn't. Alice is the unlucky employer that finds that out.
Warnings: Pretty silly, actually.
He'd been here for awhile. Two months and two days, to be exact, and at this rate, he was thinking that he would never find a way home. Not that he thought about it much; doing the same thing he did every night, just with the added bonus of possibly being killed by monsters that disappeared in the morning. He hated that. He really did. They took up too much time while he was out there looking for clues, and many of them were obscured because of the odd, reddish rust that slowly crept onto everything.
What he did in the morning was different. During the day, he hid his face, his clothes, everything that could be traced back to him. During the day, he held a sign out in front of the courthouse, or on a street corner in a nice area. Near the subway, he could be spotted, and near any spot where cabs were parked. Back home, Rorschach could do all of that, and be able to hear everything that needed to be heard. People came and went as they pleased, talking about what was going on in the city. He could read the newspaper (the ones he liked, anyway), and learn. Here, everyone did their talking over the network, or behind closed doors.
Plus, he was getting hungry, and a job sounded like it could work to fix that. One problem: his skills had no use during the day. He didn't like people. He didn't really like anything. He couldn't let anyone know who he really was. The only thing he could do back home was sew. And he hated that, too. But working with clothes wasn't that bad. People left you alone. Problem again, he didn't have a resume of any sort.
But he'd passed by this one shop on this one street, and it was owned by a newcomer. All newcomers in the city helped each other out, right? Walter Kovacs stood in front of the window, looking into the shop. Not saying anything, not doing anything, just staring in through the window, in his threadbare jacket and pants, dirty gloves, and dirty scarf, red hair sticking up. This was the correct way to get a job, right? He'd stand there for hours if he had to.
aprettybutterfly) and Alice Cullen (manicpixiedreamgirl)When: December 10th, around midday.
Where: Outside of Alice's dress shop.
Summary: Rorschach already has a job. Walter doesn't. Alice is the unlucky employer that finds that out.
Warnings: Pretty silly, actually.
He'd been here for awhile. Two months and two days, to be exact, and at this rate, he was thinking that he would never find a way home. Not that he thought about it much; doing the same thing he did every night, just with the added bonus of possibly being killed by monsters that disappeared in the morning. He hated that. He really did. They took up too much time while he was out there looking for clues, and many of them were obscured because of the odd, reddish rust that slowly crept onto everything.
What he did in the morning was different. During the day, he hid his face, his clothes, everything that could be traced back to him. During the day, he held a sign out in front of the courthouse, or on a street corner in a nice area. Near the subway, he could be spotted, and near any spot where cabs were parked. Back home, Rorschach could do all of that, and be able to hear everything that needed to be heard. People came and went as they pleased, talking about what was going on in the city. He could read the newspaper (the ones he liked, anyway), and learn. Here, everyone did their talking over the network, or behind closed doors.
Plus, he was getting hungry, and a job sounded like it could work to fix that. One problem: his skills had no use during the day. He didn't like people. He didn't really like anything. He couldn't let anyone know who he really was. The only thing he could do back home was sew. And he hated that, too. But working with clothes wasn't that bad. People left you alone. Problem again, he didn't have a resume of any sort.
But he'd passed by this one shop on this one street, and it was owned by a newcomer. All newcomers in the city helped each other out, right? Walter Kovacs stood in front of the window, looking into the shop. Not saying anything, not doing anything, just staring in through the window, in his threadbare jacket and pants, dirty gloves, and dirty scarf, red hair sticking up. This was the correct way to get a job, right? He'd stand there for hours if he had to.
Sorry for the rushed tag
He hasn't.
Today is the first day she's been able to go out and face people on to any level. She called to tell Kurt she'd be in at noon, to give herself a little time to feed and prepare.
After five days, she isn't expecting much to have changed. Maybe one or two bridesmaids dresses finished or florist orders everywhere. Maybe a new display in the front window. The last thing she expects is a homeless man standing in front of the store. She falters a little when she sees him. This wasn't in her visions recently...
Ah, well, he looks like he could use help. When she gets close, she holds out one sparkling (and oops, slightly blood speckled) hand to him in greeting.
"Sir, do you need help?"
apology accepted only if mine is for the late tag xD
His ideas of normal were always skewed, though. Incredibly skewed, because to him, normal was a ever-shifting black and white mask. To be out here now, without his face, was almost frightening. Annoying. Not the way things should be.
Like her hand. Her sparkling hand, and of course he noticed the blood. He was a detective, despite no formal training. As Walter, he couldn't notice that. It was hard, pretending to be Walter Kovacs.
"Looking for a job," He says gruffly, ignoring the hand. "Seen your shop before. It's nice."