Rorschach the verbose
I’ve been re-reading Watchmen over the last week or so (more and more slowly as I get near the end), and today realised there’s an even more d’awwwwww-inducing Nite Owl / Rorschach moment than the long awkward handshake:
When the two of them break into Veidt’s office and Nite Owl pokes around, finally hacking into the computer, while Rorschach talks…and talks…and talks.
Here’s the full text, from Rorschach noticing the chart on the wall to Dan finally rejoining the conversation:
Global population…nuclear hazard escalation index…environmental decline… Multiple crisis graph, lines converging mid 1990’s.
Optimistic. Crisis arrives decade early unless we get lead on Pyramid Deliveries. Company traceable presumably, but obviously not amateurs: engineered mask killer campaign, maybe third world war into bargain. Very competent. Very careful. Difficult quarry.
Need direct route to people behind pyramid, indication where to start…
Also need motive. Why should corporation wish to kill costume heroes? Controlled by some old enemy perhaps? But then, who has reason for triggering Armageddon? We have so few pointers.
Insanity would seem only motive. Someone wishes to destroy world, removes heroes to prevent their intervention. Someone terminally ill, perhaps…
Huhn. Moloch better suspect than previously apparent. Pity deceased…
…unless plot from beyond grave, prearranged…? No, too fantastic. Egyptian décor coloring logic… Recognise dog headed bust. Anubis, watcher over dead. Whole culture death-fixated, obsessively securing their tombs against intruders…
Didn’t like thought of corpses interfered with. Can’t afford to be so squeamish. Disturbing dead our job. Need to unearth facts concerning murders: Blake’s and Jacobi’s. If that offends Anubis, too bad. Handled watchdogs before.
However, seems inadvisable to confront this enemy’s watchdogs before considering situation carefully. Case is logic-problem. Simply needs application of intelligence.
Must admit, despite personal dislike, Veidt’s absence unfortunate. Allegedly smartest man on earth. Could no doubt have provided some answers.
Need answers quickly. World on verge of apocalypse. Death and War already here. Other horsemen can’t be far behind.
Funny…ancient pharaohs looked forward to end of world: believed cadavers would rise, reclaim hearts from golden jars. Must be currently holding breath in anticipation. Understand now why always mistrusted fascination with relics and dead kings…
…in final analysis, it’s us or them.
Obviously, there’s lots of thematic goodness in there, and there’s got to be something interesting going on while the always visually scintillating hacking goes on in the background, but sheesh, Rorschach! You’re monologue-ing, with rhetorical flourishes!
He’s so comfortable and happy (…for him) to have his bestest buddy working at his side again to share his thoughts with, instead of only his journal, and it’s goddamned adorable.
And it makes me wonder - all the ficcers (including me) write even 1960s Rorschach as Mister Terse. It feels wrong just to let him use a pronoun once in a while. But, based on this, what if he spent every minute of alone time with Nite Owl like this, chattering out every single thought that crossed his mind?
Poor, poor lucky Nite Owl - it would have been like working with a perpetual Raymond Chandler loop! Maybe he spent nearly every pre-Roche patrol gritting his teeth after a few hours and muttering “Shut. Up. Rorschach. Shut. Up. ShutUpShutUpShutUp!” Or giggling like a maniac at rapid-fire literary references.
Someone needs to write this. I don’t know if I’m up to it, but goddamn, someone needs to.
When the two of them break into Veidt’s office and Nite Owl pokes around, finally hacking into the computer, while Rorschach talks…and talks…and talks.
Here’s the full text, from Rorschach noticing the chart on the wall to Dan finally rejoining the conversation:
Global population…nuclear hazard escalation index…environmental decline… Multiple crisis graph, lines converging mid 1990’s.
Optimistic. Crisis arrives decade early unless we get lead on Pyramid Deliveries. Company traceable presumably, but obviously not amateurs: engineered mask killer campaign, maybe third world war into bargain. Very competent. Very careful. Difficult quarry.
Need direct route to people behind pyramid, indication where to start…
Also need motive. Why should corporation wish to kill costume heroes? Controlled by some old enemy perhaps? But then, who has reason for triggering Armageddon? We have so few pointers.
Insanity would seem only motive. Someone wishes to destroy world, removes heroes to prevent their intervention. Someone terminally ill, perhaps…
Huhn. Moloch better suspect than previously apparent. Pity deceased…
…unless plot from beyond grave, prearranged…? No, too fantastic. Egyptian décor coloring logic… Recognise dog headed bust. Anubis, watcher over dead. Whole culture death-fixated, obsessively securing their tombs against intruders…
Didn’t like thought of corpses interfered with. Can’t afford to be so squeamish. Disturbing dead our job. Need to unearth facts concerning murders: Blake’s and Jacobi’s. If that offends Anubis, too bad. Handled watchdogs before.
However, seems inadvisable to confront this enemy’s watchdogs before considering situation carefully. Case is logic-problem. Simply needs application of intelligence.
Must admit, despite personal dislike, Veidt’s absence unfortunate. Allegedly smartest man on earth. Could no doubt have provided some answers.
Need answers quickly. World on verge of apocalypse. Death and War already here. Other horsemen can’t be far behind.
Funny…ancient pharaohs looked forward to end of world: believed cadavers would rise, reclaim hearts from golden jars. Must be currently holding breath in anticipation. Understand now why always mistrusted fascination with relics and dead kings…
…in final analysis, it’s us or them.
Obviously, there’s lots of thematic goodness in there, and there’s got to be something interesting going on while the always visually scintillating hacking goes on in the background, but sheesh, Rorschach! You’re monologue-ing, with rhetorical flourishes!
He’s so comfortable and happy (…for him) to have his bestest buddy working at his side again to share his thoughts with, instead of only his journal, and it’s goddamned adorable.
And it makes me wonder - all the ficcers (including me) write even 1960s Rorschach as Mister Terse. It feels wrong just to let him use a pronoun once in a while. But, based on this, what if he spent every minute of alone time with Nite Owl like this, chattering out every single thought that crossed his mind?
Poor, poor lucky Nite Owl - it would have been like working with a perpetual Raymond Chandler loop! Maybe he spent nearly every pre-Roche patrol gritting his teeth after a few hours and muttering “Shut. Up. Rorschach. Shut. Up. ShutUpShutUpShutUp!” Or giggling like a maniac at rapid-fire literary references.
Someone needs to write this. I don’t know if I’m up to it, but goddamn, someone needs to.