"I forgot you named that thing." He laughed, but that futon was actually evil. Cynthia wasn't kidding when she said that Gretel would make him regret it. More than once he'd taken a nap on it and work up with horrible back pains, and sitting on it was like sitting on rocks. She could have gotten a better futon from Craigslist. "But don't worry about it, really. I'm glad to be your live-in light bulb changer."<br/><br/>A set of large paws batted lightly against the leg of his sweatpants - this house was alarmingly cold - and Tracy leaned forward just slightly to make eye contact with his cat. The Maine Coon looked up at him, propped up into a sitting position on his large hind legs. The staring contest lasted just a few moments longer before Rorschach batted at his pants leg again. "Get up here then," he said, patting to the armrest with his free hand. The cat obliged, leaping up onto the arm of the couch and pushing his face against Tracy's arm. Damn cat knew he didn't have to have an invitation to get up on the couch, but he always insisted on bothering Tracy with it.<br/><br/>"Besides," he continued on with Cynthia, "I like it here. Not a lot of houses around, and no kids." He was more of an animal-over-people kind of guy, which was hilarious considering he taught freshmen Calculus for a living, but kids just did not appeal to him in the slightest. They were loud and obnoxious and most likely literally Hitler, every single one of them. Animals were his thing, and if people could just be more like Rorschach, he would associate with tthem more. "And it's just a generally nice place. I can't say I ever thought I'd be living in a house like this just out of college. It's kind of cold though, don't you think?"