prompts.

 Stealing isn’t his thing. It never has been, but the rewards Fortune offered were too tempting to ignore.

Maybe it was the fact that he wanted the power, the discipline, to be able to read his own fate, instead of everyone else all the time. Using it on himself would be the most selfish thing, but he could use it to make a good path for himself, couldn't he?

He was so stuck in the past, so terrified of creating another destructive outcome, that the next best thing was to find a way to use his powers to gain what he's wanted. 

At this point, his selfishness falls short. Yes, he wanted to use it all for his own gain, but perhaps it was for the reason of wanting to escape this hellish cycle. To break free, and see his own fate. After all, his magic divined so much for others. Fortunes, happiness, even children in some cases, and yes, plenty of love. 

But to get that power, he needs to take what isn't his. Isn't that something so simple, compared to trying to leap through the hoops of trying to activate his magic on his own. Fortune was smiling on him, or so he could imagine, with that masked visage that always drifts in his mind's eye when he thinks of them.

A foggy breath leaves him, puffing up in front of the mask before he adjusts it with a hesitant hand. 

This small town isn't one he's familiar with, he's just happened across it on his journey. On his path to redeeming himself, and trying to get what he so desperately wanted; peace. 

Stalls line the main road into the town, with merchants waving their wares to tourists with broad smiles on their faces. His heart is pounding, rocking in and out of his throat almost, making it hard to breathe. He's never been a thief, even in his worst times. Certainly, he's been tempted by it, just to survive, but the pact that made him immortal made him... less hungry. He didn't eat as much as he did in those gilded palace halls, gorging himself until he could barely move on some days.

A merchant steps away from their stall for a moment, leaving their wares unattended, and Rorschach finds it in himself to surge forward, adrenaline surging his body as he fumbles around on a bread loaf before it's tucked into his cloak and he's off again with hurried steps. Tempting as it is, he moves around a corner, bringing pieces of bread up under the mask, eating it as he breathes out shakily. It wasn't his, it should count, right? And while his hunger isn't as it had been when he was younger, after being on the road for days on end... it's nice to get something in his stomach.

A sigh leaves him again, his back resting against a building as he eats the bread almost selfishly. 

One day, he would have the power he needed. He would be able to read his own future and fortunes, and use them to his advantage. Maybe he could run away somewhere, start anew. Wouldn't that be something? He'd already tried it here though, and so far.. he hasn't gotten much out of it but ghosts of his past.