taxonomites | 10: [location] bare your faces of the veil

The change of weather and the coming of April brought a few things to the forefront of Cain's mind. One day, while losing himself in the mundane murmur of household chores, he realized it had been close to six months since he first found himself trapped in this hole in the ground.

Six months in this monstrous metro-city, and he'd succumbed to the same apathy that he at first had accused his two dearest friends of.

Six months, and what had he done to find a way out?

What had he done to set things right?

Nothing. One big, fat, glaring nothing at all. He's given in to the grind of depression, to the oppressive lack of wanting anything to do with life, and the resignation that he doesn't have what it takes to end it once and for all (whatever it is, be it strength or weakness, guts or the lack of them).

What's more, if he's been here six months, it's ten months since Adora set out for the cottage beyond the white elm with their son, hoping against hope for a fresh start.

He realized he had no idea what she had done in the years before, when he was gone. He didn't know how she'd coped, what she'd had to sacrifice in order to feed her family.

Ten months, and sometime during the following four, she'd been murdered.

He realized, with chilling clarity, that he had no idea when his wife had died. He could live without knowing what had happened, because he knew it couldn't be as bad as his mind insisted in vivid, broad strokes of imaginary paint. He could live, not knowing how. He just wasn't so sure he could cope, not knowing when.

So, against better judgment, knowing full well he shared this prison with creatures who supposedly went around feeding on the blood of mortals, Cain once more took to walking the streets in the dead of night. The claustrophobia reared its ugly face one night too many, forcing him out into the deceptively open air - and if he had to choose between potentially infected, homicidal Extras and the walls of his rooms caving in, he'd take the Extras any day.

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Touchy fellow, Cain noted to himself, and while he didn't recognize the name (either as a quasi clinical term or connected to the stranger) he couldn't find anything weird about it. His home, its inhabitants had cultivated the quirkiness of names over several unaging generations, and to him, 'Rorschach' was as weird a name as Lavender Eyes.

Which is to say, not at all.

"No reason. Just figure it ought be a comfortable stay, as long as it lasts." Gone were the days when he raged against the unfairness of being stuck here, and in its stead came slithering, bitter resignation. He wouldn't call it despair even if that's what it was; he wasn't prone to melodrama.

He looked to the side and back, for a brief moment watching a shop sign swinging slightly in the wind. "Been here six months now, or just under. Can't say it gets better without lying."

Rorschach raised his chin in defiance of the situation, removing some of the shadows created by his fedora as the lamplight reached further. "Nothing comfortable about situation. Trapped in prison with no doors. Lying only gives false hope. Especially if lying to self." He shoved his hands in his pockets for something to do with them. While Cain might have finally begun to accept the situation Rorschach was far from doing so himself, a fact evident by the harsh edge to his words despite the monotone. He found it difficult to accept the idea that an entire city could be blocked off from the rest of the world so completely, and all the evidence in support of just such a phenomenon only frustrated him further.

But that was secondary to the reason he had been following the man in the first place. "Never explained reason for walk this late."

Yes, Cain made a mental note. Definitely a mask.

"It's a hole in the ground, I'm told," he said, opting for a blunt approach where information was concerned. He had nothing to hide, and he certainly wasn't about to sugarcoat their shared predicament. But his initial sentiment still stood: You might as well aim for a semblance of comfort while it lasted.

"My reasons are my own," he said in response to the query. "Just like your reasons are yours to keep, if that's your preference."

He certainly wouldn't ask if Rorschach had been following him. Better not to go looking for fights when all the fight had gone out of you with the last city-wide glitch.

"Never conceal my reasons; purpose obvious, well known. Remove filth and decay from streets to keep city from choking on it. Deception and concealment unnecessary. Your turn." He glared accusingly as he demanded an answer, fully expecting recognition to dawn, the polluted to flee in the face of understanding. It was how it always went, and given the uneventful turn of recent evenings his veins were all but itching for retribution, he wasn't particular as to what for.

"May be well known to you, but in this city everyone's a stranger. Nothing's obvious, 'part from what you can see, and all I see is a man wearing a mask."

He refrained from asking if Rorschach viewed him as filth. "Makes me wonder what you got to hide. Don't get me wrong, it ain't my business, but it still makes me wonder.

"If you ask me, I'm not the one guilty of concealment. I don't have an obligation to explain myself to every stranger who happens to cross my path, or shadow me."

Which...was what he suspected Rorschach had done. But that begged the question of why anyone would stalk a guy only to demand answers as if it's his birthright.

Rorschach snorted at the comment. "Not hiding. Not afraid to show face. Not like some people." He was wearing his face right now, after all, the idea that he was hiding it was inaccurate, although he could understand the confusion.

The thing in question flickered through another few shapeless patterns in agitation before finally smoothing out and settling into something more regular. "Late night. Suspicious to be out; worth investigating. Just in case." He didn't sound particularly offended by the implications, probably because they were correct. "Keep avoiding the answer. May have problem if it continues."

10: [location] bare your faces of the veil

my sentiments exactly <3

XD let the meeting of the disillusioned crank brigade begin!

huzzah!

huzzah indeed! ...and I feel the need to apologize in advance for R?

never apologize, never surr-- no, wrong canon paraphrase/bastardization. <3

snicker Heyyy it's close enough. And appropriate. <3