[ Lalo is wounded, so he's nervous now. If he was in tip-top shape, he wouldn't back down, but he isn't. Rorschach can see it in his eyes, since Lalo isn't lucky enough to have a bitchin' mask, but Lalo is suddenly deeply conscious of his wound. It pains him more than it has since he was getting in stitched up. Lalo tries to see tough, but there's just the faintest hint of wilting.

He is alone here. No family, no resources, in a world full of potentially dangerous strangers he doesn't know, with no idea when he'll be able to leave. (He is sure he will be able to leave, of that much he's confident. But he has no idea when.) ]

I... uh. Sorry. I didn't mean... [ Oh fuck please don't murder him. ] I take it back. You know what? Your musk is... uh... [ he tries to find the right words, and snaps the fingers on his non-injured hand ] unqiue. To you. I support that. Good for you doing your own thing.

[ Please at least find this babbling amusing enough not to kill him, oh God. ]