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tamingthemuseFandom: Watchmen
Title: Five Superheroes in Search of an Exit
Characters: The Comedian/Edward Blake, Dr. Manhattan/Jon Osterman, Nite Owl II/Daniel Dreiberg, Rorschach/Walter Kovacs, Silk Spectre II/Laurie
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
story_lottery 17 jungle gym, tamingthemuse 146 malevolence, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
weekly_watchmen 0009 weapon of choice
Word Count: 2291
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for a Watchmen kink meme, although there's no porn. The prompt was a Watchmen/The Twilight Zone crossover. Rorschach and four other masked heroes are stuck in a prison for some reason unknown to all of them. Based on the episode "Five Characters in Search of An Exit."
There is a blinding blue flash, a searing pain, and then only darkness.
----------
The first observation Rorschach makes is that he is still alive. He is not sure what he thinks about this development, but he doesn’t have time to waste on such trivial things as feelings right now. He pats his abdomen and chest, but he doesn’t experience any pain or stickiness to indicate a wound. He then tests his arms and legs. His limbs are strange and stiff, but still capable of movement.
The second observation is that he is not alone, and his hand automatically reaches for his grappling gun. It was never designed to be a weapon, but he has successfully used the grappling gun as one before when he’d had no other choice. He will do so again now.
Firing into the darkness towards the sound of approaching footsteps, Rorschach can hear the hook clanging uselessly against something. There are no screams of pain, no dull thuds of metal meeting flesh. He has missed his mark, and he doesn’t even know what that mark is.
Rorschach scrambles to his feet as he spies four figures emerging from the shadows. He does not know what to expect, but he will meet them with a fight.
----------
He recognizes Daniel first, and Rorschach does not characterize the relief filling his body as weakness. Daniel has proven himself to be a reliable friend, and it is always good to have an ally in an unknown situation.
And then he notices that the second Silk Spectre stands beside Daniel. She is joined by Doctor Manhattan, who is lacking his characteristic blue glow, and the Comedian, who has a half-smoked cigar dangling from his lips. Rorschach thinks there is something very wrong with this scenario, but he isn’t sure what.
“Rorschach. So you’re here, too.” Daniel’s words are cold and lacking inflection.
“Where?” Rorschach stoops to pick up his discarded grappling gun, but the claw won’t retract properly. Further investigation reveals that the wire has somehow been pulled from its track, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Rorschach is angry to lose such a valuable tool, but the remnant of Walter that still lingers inside of him is dismayed that the first (and only) gift he’s ever received is now broken.
“We don’t know,” Laurie replies in a monotone more like Jon’s typical pattern of speech than her own. “We’re just here.”
----------
A deafening sound fills Rorschach’s ears, and the ground beneath him begins to shake violently. Earthquake? He’s never experienced one of those before, but he can’t think of any other explanation. He covers his ears and crouches low, wondering when it will stop…if it will ever stop.
When his ears quit ringing, Rorschach looks for his fellow masks, expecting to find at least one of them injured. They don’t appear to be hurt at all. He then prepares to survey the damage, but there is none. Hrm. Odd.
“What was that?” he asks of no one in particular, patting his pocket to make sure that his grappling gun is still secure.
“It was a seismic disturbance of some kind.” Jon shrugs one broad shoulder, the movement barely discernible in the darkness without his blue aura surrounding him. “There appears to be no pattern to its arrival or cessation. It is completely erratic.”
“That’s scientific speak for ‘no one knows jack shit,’” the Comedian grumbles, picking up his cigar and shoving it back into his mouth. Rorschach notes that there is no glowing ring to indicate that it is lit, but that is not the only thing odd about this situation. Rorschach’s instincts warn him again that something is wrong, but his mind is still too cloudy to remember just what it is.
And then his eyes focus on the Comedian’s smiley face pin, and Rorschach remembers plucking it from the gutter outside of a high rise apartment building, wet with blood…
“Supposed to be dead,” he growls as the memory surfaces, wondering what this trick exactly is. “Took a dive from high rise building. Street pizza. Mask killer.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Inkblot?” Blake swaggers up to him and purses his lips, as if blowing smoke into Rorschach’s face. “Do I look dead to you?”
There is no smoke.
Rorschach is already recalling another fragmented memory as the Comedian speaks, standing in the snow, so cold, and then, and then…
Nothing.
“Hey, Rorschach? Are you all right?” Daniel asks at last, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “The Comedian isn’t dead, see?”
“The creep must have bumped his head.” Laurie sniffs disdainfully.
Rorschach hasn’t bumped his head, and he knows it. He’s suffered from concussions before, but this terrifying amnesia is nothing like those. His mind latches onto the phrase “mask killer.” He may not be able to remember much right now, but he does remember something.
“In danger. All of us.”
As if to punctuate his dire warning, another earthquake begins.
--
Once the shaking ceases, Rorschach prepares to find a way out of this place. The obvious answer is for Jon to teleport them, but the Comedian only chuckles at the suggestion. “In case you haven’t noticed, Inkblot, the Doc here has lost all of his powers. He ain’t lit up like a blue Christmas tree anymore, is he?”
“It’s true,” Jon confirms when Rorschach wheels around to look at him. “I am unable to teleport myself or others.”
“See into the future?” Rorschach questions hopefully, although he already suspects the answer.
Jon shakes his head. “No. I’ve almost forgotten the joys of not knowing…”
Rorschach doesn’t care about Doctor Manhattan’s joys; he just wants to leave this strange place for good. (And, for some reason, he no longer trusts the man, although he can’t explain why. Something about snow…)
“Need to get out of here somehow.” Rorschach surveys the situation; his eyes have adjusted to the darkness well enough that he can see that the room is apparently circular in shape. “Any doors?”
Daniel shrugs, his costume creaking from the movement. “I’m not sure.”
“Hurm. Retirement doesn’t suit you. Getting lazy.” Rorschach removes his gloves and begins probing the walls with his bare fingers, searching for the outline of a door, a switch, a lock, anything to indicate a way out. He can feel the other masks staring at his back, but he pays them little mind. Lazy, he thinks again derisively, not even looking to escape. Fat sheep content to be led to slaughter.
His efforts are stalled by a few more earthquakes, but Rorschach won’t be satisfied until he feels every inch of their prison. All the while, Rorschach’s mind races, filling in some of the blanks. There is a mask killer roaming the streets of New York. He must have brought them all here and interfered with their minds. But why? Some malevolent purpose, obviously, but what?
There are no answers down here, only questions.
----------
In the end, Rorschach’s search is fruitless. There are no noticeable cracks, no tell-tale shafts of light giving away a door, nothing.
Rorschach does not admit defeat. “Put here somehow. Must be way out if way in.” He glances up at the ceiling of the cavernous room and suppresses a sigh. Of course. Obvious, really.
The grappling gun would be even more useful now, and Rorschach silently berates himself for being so foolish and breaking it. But that accomplishes nothing, and so he begins to plot their escape. How else can they reach the trapdoor that must be located on the ceiling?
He eyes his companions, all milling around pointlessly. He can use them to secure freedom. Then he will return for them, and together they will track down this mask killer. How can they possibly deny the murderer’s existence now? Someone has surely put them here.
(Except, he debates silently for a moment, is mask killer real if no one killed yet? Any of this real?)
He doesn’t have time for this. Rorschach knows that there is someone dangerous lurking outside, and they must escape before the killer returns. Patting the front of his trench coat once more to make sure the grappling gun is still there, Rorschach points up. “Leaving that way.”
----------
There is some bickering about Rorschach’s idea. He tries to squash the dissent by issuing clipped orders, but in the end, it is Daniel’s practicality that wins the others over to the plan. They will need to eat sometime (even though they aren’t hungry) and drink (even though they aren’t thirsty). They can’t stay down here forever.
It is also Daniel who decides the order of the human chain. Although Jon has lost his powers, he is still the strongest of them all, so he will form the base. Next comes the Comedian, followed by Daniel and Rorschach. Silk Spectre II, as the lightest, will be at the top. Rorschach is displeased with this – it is his idea, and he should be the one who is at the top – but he decides to trust Daniel this time, in a show of solidarity.
Jon and the Comedian have little trouble assuming their spots, but Daniel has been retired for years and can’t keep up with the physical demands of the job. He huffs and puffs his way to the top, nearly falling a few times in the process. Rorschach has little trouble scaling the human ladder; he is used to climbing in awkward positions, although he would really rather not be forced to cling to people. It’s almost unbearable when Silk Spectre II begins her ascent, her latex-clad body sliding against his own indecently. Rorschach endures it with only a few mutters beneath his breath.
Finally, though, Laurie calls down that she can almost reach the top of the room, if only they can give her a slight boost. The men below her stretch, but still she can’t pull herself over the edge, although she declares that she can feel it with her fingertips. Just a little more…a little more…
And then they topple down in a heap as another earthquake rattles their prison.
----------
“Should have known better than to trust a woman,” Rorschach grinds out as Daniel inspects Laurie’s twisted ankle. “Weak.”
Laurie’s eyes narrow as she glares up at him. “Listen here, you weirdo, it wasn’t easy crawling all over you like a god damned jungle gym, and I—”
But Daniel, ever the peacemaker, holds up his hands. “Arguing won’t get us out of here,” he says firmly. “Rorschach, give me your scarf so I can bind this for her, and then we’ll try this again.”
Rorschach is ready to protest, and the look on Laurie’s face tells him that she feels the same way, but Daniel is right. Escaping and tracking down the mask killer is more important than squabbling like children. He loosens the fabric around his neck and hands it to his friend, who knots it around Laurie’s ankle in a complicated pattern.
“At the top this time,” Rorschach declares, and he watches as the others struggle into their positions once more. Laurie wobbles uncertainly atop Daniel’s shoulders, but she grits her teeth and manages to stay aright as Rorschach begins his own ascent. He is very careful to put his hands on the neutral places of Laurie’s body as he climbs, and yet he still feels filthy for touching her.
“Little more,” he grunts as he teeters on the woman’s shoulders, and the others beneath him stretch. His gloved fingers slide closer to the rim of the prison, but he can’t quite reach it. Pulling out the broken grappling gun, he tosses the hook into the air, hoping that it will catch against the edge, but it slides down the wall, and Rorschach can hear Daniel cry out as it hits him.
Carefully pulling the metal hook towards him, Rorschach flings it towards the ceiling again. This time, it does not come back down; he can feel the resistance as he gives it a firm tug, indicating that it has caught onto something. Gingerly, he begins to pull himself towards the ceiling, inch by agonizing inch, unsure of what will meet his eyes when he reaches the top.
He draws himself up to the edge, peering down, and then he remembers everything as another earthquake shakes the room, and he is falling, falling…
----------
Two boys stoop down to examine something in the snow. “Hey, cool, look! It’s a Rorschach action figure!” one of them exclaims, picking up the toy.
“Aww, yeah, but his grappling gun is broken.” The other one pulls at the thin wire, but it doesn’t retract as it should.
“How did that get out here? Boys, put it back in the barrel,” an older lady admonishes them. “That’s for the Christmas toy drive for the Lillian Charlton Home.” She points at the poster on the side of the barrel, which declares that the drive is being sponsored by Ozymandias, the new president-elect. “We need to show charity this time of year, especially after all that’s happened.”
The boys shrug, and the one holding the Rorschach figure throws it back into the barrel. As they walk away, they can hear the woman clanging her bell once more. “Toys for the Lillian Charlton Home! Won’t you donate some toys for the Lillian Charlton Home?”
also posted here and atwritingbug
[week 15]
Title: Five Superheroes in Search of an Exit
Characters: The Comedian/Edward Blake, Dr. Manhattan/Jon Osterman, Nite Owl II/Daniel Dreiberg, Rorschach/Walter Kovacs, Silk Spectre II/Laurie
Prompt:
story_lottery 17 jungle gym, tamingthemuse 146 malevolence, weekly_watchmen 0009 weapon of choiceWord Count: 2291
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for a Watchmen kink meme, although there's no porn. The prompt was a Watchmen/The Twilight Zone crossover. Rorschach and four other masked heroes are stuck in a prison for some reason unknown to all of them. Based on the episode "Five Characters in Search of An Exit."
There is a blinding blue flash, a searing pain, and then only darkness.
----------
The first observation Rorschach makes is that he is still alive. He is not sure what he thinks about this development, but he doesn’t have time to waste on such trivial things as feelings right now. He pats his abdomen and chest, but he doesn’t experience any pain or stickiness to indicate a wound. He then tests his arms and legs. His limbs are strange and stiff, but still capable of movement.
The second observation is that he is not alone, and his hand automatically reaches for his grappling gun. It was never designed to be a weapon, but he has successfully used the grappling gun as one before when he’d had no other choice. He will do so again now.
Firing into the darkness towards the sound of approaching footsteps, Rorschach can hear the hook clanging uselessly against something. There are no screams of pain, no dull thuds of metal meeting flesh. He has missed his mark, and he doesn’t even know what that mark is.
Rorschach scrambles to his feet as he spies four figures emerging from the shadows. He does not know what to expect, but he will meet them with a fight.
----------
He recognizes Daniel first, and Rorschach does not characterize the relief filling his body as weakness. Daniel has proven himself to be a reliable friend, and it is always good to have an ally in an unknown situation.
And then he notices that the second Silk Spectre stands beside Daniel. She is joined by Doctor Manhattan, who is lacking his characteristic blue glow, and the Comedian, who has a half-smoked cigar dangling from his lips. Rorschach thinks there is something very wrong with this scenario, but he isn’t sure what.
“Rorschach. So you’re here, too.” Daniel’s words are cold and lacking inflection.
“Where?” Rorschach stoops to pick up his discarded grappling gun, but the claw won’t retract properly. Further investigation reveals that the wire has somehow been pulled from its track, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Rorschach is angry to lose such a valuable tool, but the remnant of Walter that still lingers inside of him is dismayed that the first (and only) gift he’s ever received is now broken.
“We don’t know,” Laurie replies in a monotone more like Jon’s typical pattern of speech than her own. “We’re just here.”
----------
A deafening sound fills Rorschach’s ears, and the ground beneath him begins to shake violently. Earthquake? He’s never experienced one of those before, but he can’t think of any other explanation. He covers his ears and crouches low, wondering when it will stop…if it will ever stop.
When his ears quit ringing, Rorschach looks for his fellow masks, expecting to find at least one of them injured. They don’t appear to be hurt at all. He then prepares to survey the damage, but there is none. Hrm. Odd.
“What was that?” he asks of no one in particular, patting his pocket to make sure that his grappling gun is still secure.
“It was a seismic disturbance of some kind.” Jon shrugs one broad shoulder, the movement barely discernible in the darkness without his blue aura surrounding him. “There appears to be no pattern to its arrival or cessation. It is completely erratic.”
“That’s scientific speak for ‘no one knows jack shit,’” the Comedian grumbles, picking up his cigar and shoving it back into his mouth. Rorschach notes that there is no glowing ring to indicate that it is lit, but that is not the only thing odd about this situation. Rorschach’s instincts warn him again that something is wrong, but his mind is still too cloudy to remember just what it is.
And then his eyes focus on the Comedian’s smiley face pin, and Rorschach remembers plucking it from the gutter outside of a high rise apartment building, wet with blood…
“Supposed to be dead,” he growls as the memory surfaces, wondering what this trick exactly is. “Took a dive from high rise building. Street pizza. Mask killer.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Inkblot?” Blake swaggers up to him and purses his lips, as if blowing smoke into Rorschach’s face. “Do I look dead to you?”
There is no smoke.
Rorschach is already recalling another fragmented memory as the Comedian speaks, standing in the snow, so cold, and then, and then…
Nothing.
“Hey, Rorschach? Are you all right?” Daniel asks at last, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “The Comedian isn’t dead, see?”
“The creep must have bumped his head.” Laurie sniffs disdainfully.
Rorschach hasn’t bumped his head, and he knows it. He’s suffered from concussions before, but this terrifying amnesia is nothing like those. His mind latches onto the phrase “mask killer.” He may not be able to remember much right now, but he does remember something.
“In danger. All of us.”
As if to punctuate his dire warning, another earthquake begins.
--
Once the shaking ceases, Rorschach prepares to find a way out of this place. The obvious answer is for Jon to teleport them, but the Comedian only chuckles at the suggestion. “In case you haven’t noticed, Inkblot, the Doc here has lost all of his powers. He ain’t lit up like a blue Christmas tree anymore, is he?”
“It’s true,” Jon confirms when Rorschach wheels around to look at him. “I am unable to teleport myself or others.”
“See into the future?” Rorschach questions hopefully, although he already suspects the answer.
Jon shakes his head. “No. I’ve almost forgotten the joys of not knowing…”
Rorschach doesn’t care about Doctor Manhattan’s joys; he just wants to leave this strange place for good. (And, for some reason, he no longer trusts the man, although he can’t explain why. Something about snow…)
“Need to get out of here somehow.” Rorschach surveys the situation; his eyes have adjusted to the darkness well enough that he can see that the room is apparently circular in shape. “Any doors?”
Daniel shrugs, his costume creaking from the movement. “I’m not sure.”
“Hurm. Retirement doesn’t suit you. Getting lazy.” Rorschach removes his gloves and begins probing the walls with his bare fingers, searching for the outline of a door, a switch, a lock, anything to indicate a way out. He can feel the other masks staring at his back, but he pays them little mind. Lazy, he thinks again derisively, not even looking to escape. Fat sheep content to be led to slaughter.
His efforts are stalled by a few more earthquakes, but Rorschach won’t be satisfied until he feels every inch of their prison. All the while, Rorschach’s mind races, filling in some of the blanks. There is a mask killer roaming the streets of New York. He must have brought them all here and interfered with their minds. But why? Some malevolent purpose, obviously, but what?
There are no answers down here, only questions.
----------
In the end, Rorschach’s search is fruitless. There are no noticeable cracks, no tell-tale shafts of light giving away a door, nothing.
Rorschach does not admit defeat. “Put here somehow. Must be way out if way in.” He glances up at the ceiling of the cavernous room and suppresses a sigh. Of course. Obvious, really.
The grappling gun would be even more useful now, and Rorschach silently berates himself for being so foolish and breaking it. But that accomplishes nothing, and so he begins to plot their escape. How else can they reach the trapdoor that must be located on the ceiling?
He eyes his companions, all milling around pointlessly. He can use them to secure freedom. Then he will return for them, and together they will track down this mask killer. How can they possibly deny the murderer’s existence now? Someone has surely put them here.
(Except, he debates silently for a moment, is mask killer real if no one killed yet? Any of this real?)
He doesn’t have time for this. Rorschach knows that there is someone dangerous lurking outside, and they must escape before the killer returns. Patting the front of his trench coat once more to make sure the grappling gun is still there, Rorschach points up. “Leaving that way.”
----------
There is some bickering about Rorschach’s idea. He tries to squash the dissent by issuing clipped orders, but in the end, it is Daniel’s practicality that wins the others over to the plan. They will need to eat sometime (even though they aren’t hungry) and drink (even though they aren’t thirsty). They can’t stay down here forever.
It is also Daniel who decides the order of the human chain. Although Jon has lost his powers, he is still the strongest of them all, so he will form the base. Next comes the Comedian, followed by Daniel and Rorschach. Silk Spectre II, as the lightest, will be at the top. Rorschach is displeased with this – it is his idea, and he should be the one who is at the top – but he decides to trust Daniel this time, in a show of solidarity.
Jon and the Comedian have little trouble assuming their spots, but Daniel has been retired for years and can’t keep up with the physical demands of the job. He huffs and puffs his way to the top, nearly falling a few times in the process. Rorschach has little trouble scaling the human ladder; he is used to climbing in awkward positions, although he would really rather not be forced to cling to people. It’s almost unbearable when Silk Spectre II begins her ascent, her latex-clad body sliding against his own indecently. Rorschach endures it with only a few mutters beneath his breath.
Finally, though, Laurie calls down that she can almost reach the top of the room, if only they can give her a slight boost. The men below her stretch, but still she can’t pull herself over the edge, although she declares that she can feel it with her fingertips. Just a little more…a little more…
And then they topple down in a heap as another earthquake rattles their prison.
----------
“Should have known better than to trust a woman,” Rorschach grinds out as Daniel inspects Laurie’s twisted ankle. “Weak.”
Laurie’s eyes narrow as she glares up at him. “Listen here, you weirdo, it wasn’t easy crawling all over you like a god damned jungle gym, and I—”
But Daniel, ever the peacemaker, holds up his hands. “Arguing won’t get us out of here,” he says firmly. “Rorschach, give me your scarf so I can bind this for her, and then we’ll try this again.”
Rorschach is ready to protest, and the look on Laurie’s face tells him that she feels the same way, but Daniel is right. Escaping and tracking down the mask killer is more important than squabbling like children. He loosens the fabric around his neck and hands it to his friend, who knots it around Laurie’s ankle in a complicated pattern.
“At the top this time,” Rorschach declares, and he watches as the others struggle into their positions once more. Laurie wobbles uncertainly atop Daniel’s shoulders, but she grits her teeth and manages to stay aright as Rorschach begins his own ascent. He is very careful to put his hands on the neutral places of Laurie’s body as he climbs, and yet he still feels filthy for touching her.
“Little more,” he grunts as he teeters on the woman’s shoulders, and the others beneath him stretch. His gloved fingers slide closer to the rim of the prison, but he can’t quite reach it. Pulling out the broken grappling gun, he tosses the hook into the air, hoping that it will catch against the edge, but it slides down the wall, and Rorschach can hear Daniel cry out as it hits him.
Carefully pulling the metal hook towards him, Rorschach flings it towards the ceiling again. This time, it does not come back down; he can feel the resistance as he gives it a firm tug, indicating that it has caught onto something. Gingerly, he begins to pull himself towards the ceiling, inch by agonizing inch, unsure of what will meet his eyes when he reaches the top.
He draws himself up to the edge, peering down, and then he remembers everything as another earthquake shakes the room, and he is falling, falling…
----------
Two boys stoop down to examine something in the snow. “Hey, cool, look! It’s a Rorschach action figure!” one of them exclaims, picking up the toy.
“Aww, yeah, but his grappling gun is broken.” The other one pulls at the thin wire, but it doesn’t retract as it should.
“How did that get out here? Boys, put it back in the barrel,” an older lady admonishes them. “That’s for the Christmas toy drive for the Lillian Charlton Home.” She points at the poster on the side of the barrel, which declares that the drive is being sponsored by Ozymandias, the new president-elect. “We need to show charity this time of year, especially after all that’s happened.”
The boys shrug, and the one holding the Rorschach figure throws it back into the barrel. As they walk away, they can hear the woman clanging her bell once more. “Toys for the Lillian Charlton Home! Won’t you donate some toys for the Lillian Charlton Home?”
also posted here and at
writingbug[week 15]
