Rorschach (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
outoutdamnblot) wrote2011-12-31 09:55 pm
outoutdamnblot) wrote2011-12-31 09:55 pm
Rorschach's subconsicous
It's dark. Raining. Tall buildings rise up around you -- a city, apparently. Some might recognize it as New York, but a different New York than many would know. This is after the days of the charming hustle and bustle of taking in the poor, tired, hungry masses, that warm and lively melting pot. And before everything was scrubbed clean into a commercialist theme park. Trash is littered about the street. Buildings are falling into disrepair. Storefronts feature cracked windowpanes and cheap, tacky merchandise. The neon sign of a dilapidated strip club flickers across the way.
Most of all, you are alone. It's as though all of the people have just disappeared. The silence is heavy.
And the rain pools like a flood of ink at your feet.
It doesn't seem like a very welcoming place to explore, but maybe you're the adventurous sort. At the very least, it might be nice to find a way to get out of the rain.
Most of all, you are alone. It's as though all of the people have just disappeared. The silence is heavy.
And the rain pools like a flood of ink at your feet.
It doesn't seem like a very welcoming place to explore, but maybe you're the adventurous sort. At the very least, it might be nice to find a way to get out of the rain.