the streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown
The Keene Act. Liberals call it their victory, Senator Keene their champion. Keene, not worthy of the title senator, but who is? The great men are gone.
Criminals don't deserve sympathy, safety. Liberals think Keene's changed that, made vermin worth something with the passage of an act?
Rorschach picks his target carefully. A multiple rapist, the kind liberals talk about rehabilitating. And then he makes it messy, makes it hurt.
It's better than what filth deserves.
He dumps the broken body in front of police headquarters, leaves a note: NEVER! He has the stomach for what must be done.
there is good and there is evil, and evil must be punished
Daniel...Daniel is good. Soft, accepting of bad law, but still good. Rorschach stands outside his brownstone, watches the play of lights as Daniel moves from kitchen to living room to bedroom, finally turns off the last light. Lonely without him, but also liberating. No hand on his arm hauling him back. No voice telling him he's going too far.
No such thing as too far. Still, it's good to know Daniel's safe. He's friendly with Hollis Mason. Some unscrupulous reporter could make Daniel's connection to Nite Owl.
Rorschach turns up the collar of his trench coat. Time to work.
this city is an animal, fierce and complicated
He'd been soft before. It had kept him from seeing clearly. But he's Rorschach now, knows how bring the city to heel.
"Looking for Little Mikey." He breaks another of his informant's fingers. The man screams, high and shrill. A good sound.
"Christ, Rorschach!" Happy Larry recoils behind the bar. "He's already said he doesn't know."
"He's lying." He's out of fingers, opts for slamming the man's face into the table.
It breaks his informant. "Container terminal," he wheezes. "Just stop."
Rorschach breaks his arm, lets him up, walks out unopposed. The city's behaving for him. It's a good night.
this relentless world: there is only one sane response to it
Two hours until he can put on his face. He's restless. Gunga Diner is crowded. The waitress is a new woman, thirty-five to forty, make-up heavy to hide the bruising at her right eye and cheek. He lets her refill his coffee, ignores her sarcastic, "Anything else?"
One hour and fifty-five minutes. He watches the street through the window. Not much activity today. Rain's keeping most people indoors. But there's still the vermin. The drug dealers on the corner, punks spray-painting the building across the street. They'll burn, all of them.
One hour. Then he can put on his face.
have lived life, free from compromise
The Comedian is dead. He goes to warn the others, goes to Daniel first, doesn't understand why. Daniel's soft, has let himself go.
Daniel hadn't had the spine to keep going past Keene. Liberals compromise, wring their hands as communists and criminals march over them. Intellectuals rationalize the threats away.
And Daniel doesn't see how much ground they've gained. As if Keene wasn't a sign.
Maybe the Comedian's death will correct his thinking. If not...if not Rorschach tried. His former self and Daniel had been friends. Perhaps that's why he warns Daniel first. Sentiment. He'll have to watch that.