The Other

Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hi! People who have read the comic will notice that I've used dialogue from Watchmen 1. For readers who have only watched the movie, it's actually Rorschach and not Dan who goes to see Veidt (read the comic! Both it and the movie are great, though Alan Moore would disagree on the latter but Alan you cannot deny that Jackie Earle Haley was awesome as Rorschach!). Enjoy, I tried to write Rorschach as authentically as possible (writing his journal entries was fun anyhow hee).

Rorschach's Journal. October 13th, 1985. Went to see Veidt. World's smartest man became world's richest man by whoring out his image. His desk is covered in Ozymandias dolls. While he sits playing with himself, kids who should have toys are beaten and abused. Dolls will help fill his coffers but it won't save them. He repulses me. Smartest man should know better. Should know better than all of us. Warned him about mask-killer though he doesn't deserve it. Didn't believe me in any case...

"Not necessarily. The comedian had plenty of other political enemies to choose from, even discounting the Russians" says the man in the imperial purple suit, back turned to the man who has just recently climbed through his office window - without appointment, "The man was practically a Nazi."

"He stood up for his country, Veidt. He never let anybody retire him. Never cashed in on his reputation" says the masked visitor, voice heavy with implication, judgement, perched disrespectfully on other man's desk, "Never set up a company selling posters and diet books and toy posters based on himself. Never became a prostitute. If that makes him a Nazi, you might as well call me a Nazi, too."

"Mr. Veidt," the intercom cuts through the tension, "Miss Roche is here."

"Roche," mutters Rorschach to himself, distracted from making further character attacks.

Veidt gives him a curious glance as he brushes past to answer,

"Thank you Susan, please let her in," he says smoothly, smoothing his suit as he turns to his unexpected and unwanted guest, "I'm sorry Rorschach but we'll have to cut this short. My date is here and we have tickets to the opera."

"Date?" mockery and disgust worked into the word like a gob of spit. Adrian braces himself for more condemnation, surprised when it's followed by: "Roche. Name familiar."

"Her family founded the Roche Chemical Company," Adrian supplies, looking at his watch, more symbolically than actually registering the time, "Now I'm afraid I really must insist that you..."

Mid-sentence, the door to Veidt's office swings open.

Rorschach's Journal. October 13th, 1985. Veidt eager to be rid of me. So he can go to opera where music can drown out the screams and his sense of responsibility. Opera of the streets. The innocent weep in time with sinful moans and death gurgles. Beethoven was deaf but he could still hear music. Even up in Veidt's tower, the city beneath calls to me like a siren song. Not like Veidt and Dreiberg, can't block my ears, it's in my head. Like Beethoven. Veidt's date came to his office while I was there. Suspect she is cover for Veidt's possible homosexuality. Her name is Roche, same name as murdered girl. She's from the wealthy family killer thought the girl was from and murdered her because she wasn't. Strange coincidence, unsettling. The way she was smiling when she walked into Veidt's office. Untroubled, happy smile. Made me think of Blair Roche's photograph. She's smiling in it, same smile. Difference is the girl in Veidt's office got to grow up and keep smiling...

"Adrian!" a young woman who is twenty-three and swallowed by a black fur coat calls out with a wave. Her hands are snow-white, gloved.

She gives a jerk of surprise to see, beside Adrian, a man she recognises from television news stories and wanted posters.

"Oh", she says, equally fascinated and fearful, drawing in his details like the greedy inhale of a cigarette, paying particular attention to the mask. Still shots have failed to capture the way it moves. In the shifting blobs, she makes out a butterfly before it dissolves.

She doesn't realise that she is in turn being studied. That the masked man is comparing her to a murdered girl.

"Todd," Adrian says, sweeping over to kiss her cheek and greet her properly in spite of the other presence he's yet to be rid of, "It's good to see you. You look lovely."

Todd, Rorschach thinks, pretentious masculine name, as the woman blushes, her attention drawn away. Adrian is good-looking, especially up close.

"Thank you," she says shyly, paradoxically she slides her coat off her naked shoulders, planning to reveal the form-fitting evening dress underneath. Black, she thought it would go well with purple. Adrian wears purple like a signature.

"No, leave it on" Adrian intervenes, drawing the coat protectively around her glittering diamond throat, "we'll be going in a moment."

He takes her hand and raises her fingers to his lips and she wishes she hadn't bothered with gloves.

Veidt half-turns to the elephant in the room. The masked man is looking off to one side, discomforted by their intimacy, annoyed Veidt couldn't wait until he left for such displays.

"This man is a... former acquaintance of mine," Veidt says to Todd, in explanation for there being a wanted felon, unwanted on his part, in his office, "We used to be in the same line of work. He dropped by rather unexpectedly."

"I know who he is," Todd says in the tone of a knowledgeable child, "He's Rorschach." There's a quiver in her voice, a kind of awe, speaking a name that's almost mythical.

"Going now Veidt," Rorschach announces, he's done what he came here to do, "I came here to warn you about mask killer. So you didn't end up smartest man in the morgue. But I guess there's worse things to end up as."

Todd looks at Adrian in confusion – up until that point she had been gaping in alarm at the man crouched in the open window, of a very high building, thinking surely he isn't going to scale down it. Adrian is silent, brow furrowed, inwardly damning Rorschach's indiscretion. His plans for the evening hadn't involved reassuring his companion that his life isn't in danger.

"Miss Roche," the masked man says with a nod in her direction, farewelling her even though they were never introduced.

Todd shrinks behind Adrian, regarding him with more outright fear than before. He doesn't like it, seeing that expression on her, maybe because he's still associating her with a dead girl. Her lover's face is inscrutable calm, like the faces on his ancient statues.

"Be seeing you Veidt," he says to him.

He faces the night but turns back, an after-thought,

"Which opera?"

"Orpheus and Eurydice," Todd answers quicker than Adrian, robotically.

"Hurm," says Rorschach, "Enjoy your evening."

He falls out of sight, departing the way he came.

Adrian takes a breath before the task ahead, attending to the shaken girl and her head full of questions. He leads with a smile.

Rorschach's Journal. October 13th, 1985. Left Veidt and Roche woman to make music of my own. Rape taking place in alleyway. Snapped all ten of rapist's fingers, symphony of breaking bone. Finale, snapped his weapon so he won't repeat his performance. Roche woman still niggling in my head like a worm. What does she know about the little girl who was murdered for having the same name? Plan to investigate. Found address in phone book. Will pay her a visit later, after more compositions.

To be continued...