Rorschach had started to become aware that, somehow, whether he liked it or not people were now able to hear his thoughts. It was difficult to control the ability yet, for turning it on and off wasn't as easy as switching the dial on a radio. He wasn't sure there was a way to control such a....gift? Curse? He wasn't sure which side of the equation such powers fell under. Maybe it all just depended on how optimistic one was.

No points for guessing where Rorschach fell in there. He was about as optimistic as Eeyore most days.

He was perched in a tree high above Hickey's head, camouflaged quite well thanks to his dark-colored clothing, and could hear every word Hickey was yelling. One arm held onto the trunk as Rorschach glared down at him. His thoughts projected outwards again. This time, he half-expected Hickey to hear him and so he deliberately thought a few things to rile him up further, given how he already had already disliked Hickey after their first meeting. "Ridiculous man. He sounds like a whiny child. And probably someone who wouldn't understand good or evil if he had a thousand years to think it over."