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31_days2014-09-21 07:15 pm
bane-6.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2014-09-21 07:15 pm
[September 21] [Watchmen] The Last Legend
Title: The Last Legend
Day/Theme: To Kill an Immortal
Series: Watchmen
Character/Pairing: Adrian Veidt, mention of other Crimebusters
Adrian had thought that when this was all over, he would be the only legend left. That hadn’t been his intention, of course. He didn’t need anyone’s adulation after all. But the other heroes had already been barely more than memories as it was. Jon was more and more withdrawn. Laurel Jane was more and more content to have distance between herself and the masks. Eddie hadn’t been anyone’s hero for a long time. Dan had always blended a little well into the background. Even Rorschach wouldn’t last long once there was no need of him. When he was finally the worst thing to stalk the streets, maybe he would do the noble thing and eradicate himself.
It hadn’t come to that. Rorschach had died in Antarctica, a world away from anyone who had ever feared him. Laurel Jane and Dan had fled. Jon was simply gone. Adrian was certain he could find the first two without any trouble. They were no threat to him though. Eddie hadn’t been either. He had crumbled at the first sight of what Adrian had planned for the world. Jon was the most powerful, but in the end, the easiest to manipulate. Rorschach had been the only one who refused to back down, which was why he was the one who died.
But if he was dead, why was he still the one people talked about? His journal had been published and even if most people didn’t believe it, the word was out. Adrian had risen above it as best he was able, not acknowledging any conspiracy theories or giving fuel to any flames. He knew that would make the most suspicious even more so, but he had outlived Rorschach, and was certain he had only to wait out rumors.
There was still the double r symbol being spray-painted in bad neighborhoods, though. Hoods still looked over their shoulders, hoping not to see him, even though no one had seen him since November of ’85. When asked why, when reminded that he was dead, the answer was always some variation of ’dead doesn’t mean gone’, usually followed by a story of how a friend’s sister knew a guy who had seen Rorschach watching them from an alley.
If Rorschach had been a force to be reckoned with alive, he was a primal certainty in death. He could be anywhere. He was a boogieman and a guardian angel. Anyone who was spooked out at night or lost their nerve before doing something they shouldn’t have blamed him for it. Anyone who had a close call, but made it home safe gave him the credit for it. It didn’t make any sense to Adrian.
Did they not remember the broken fingers and the slurs and the misogyny and the smell? Why had all that been suddenly forgiven? Even the police force talked about him like a mythical being now. They had spent years hunting him. Many of them had been hurt in the process. And then he had escaped from their worst prison right before the world ended. Was that it? Was it just nostalgia for the pre-squid days?
As infuriating as it was, Adrian was just a businessman now, enough of a philanthropist that no one begrudged him profiting from the disaster, and rich enough to make sure no sincere threats got close to him. He had wanted to keep his works a secret, but every now and then he wondered if it hadn’t worked too well. Rorschach was the legend now. You couldn’t kill a ghost. Burning away the old world hadn’t erased his mark on it. He was beyond even Adrian’s reach now, as much as it galled. More people believed in him than had ever believed in Ozymandias. The only thing about it more bothersome was the fact that it bothered him at all. Adrian was above such things and there was still work to be done, no matter how many spray painted blobs of black and white appeared on his billboards.
Day/Theme: To Kill an Immortal
Series: Watchmen
Character/Pairing: Adrian Veidt, mention of other Crimebusters
Adrian had thought that when this was all over, he would be the only legend left. That hadn’t been his intention, of course. He didn’t need anyone’s adulation after all. But the other heroes had already been barely more than memories as it was. Jon was more and more withdrawn. Laurel Jane was more and more content to have distance between herself and the masks. Eddie hadn’t been anyone’s hero for a long time. Dan had always blended a little well into the background. Even Rorschach wouldn’t last long once there was no need of him. When he was finally the worst thing to stalk the streets, maybe he would do the noble thing and eradicate himself.
It hadn’t come to that. Rorschach had died in Antarctica, a world away from anyone who had ever feared him. Laurel Jane and Dan had fled. Jon was simply gone. Adrian was certain he could find the first two without any trouble. They were no threat to him though. Eddie hadn’t been either. He had crumbled at the first sight of what Adrian had planned for the world. Jon was the most powerful, but in the end, the easiest to manipulate. Rorschach had been the only one who refused to back down, which was why he was the one who died.
But if he was dead, why was he still the one people talked about? His journal had been published and even if most people didn’t believe it, the word was out. Adrian had risen above it as best he was able, not acknowledging any conspiracy theories or giving fuel to any flames. He knew that would make the most suspicious even more so, but he had outlived Rorschach, and was certain he had only to wait out rumors.
There was still the double r symbol being spray-painted in bad neighborhoods, though. Hoods still looked over their shoulders, hoping not to see him, even though no one had seen him since November of ’85. When asked why, when reminded that he was dead, the answer was always some variation of ’dead doesn’t mean gone’, usually followed by a story of how a friend’s sister knew a guy who had seen Rorschach watching them from an alley.
If Rorschach had been a force to be reckoned with alive, he was a primal certainty in death. He could be anywhere. He was a boogieman and a guardian angel. Anyone who was spooked out at night or lost their nerve before doing something they shouldn’t have blamed him for it. Anyone who had a close call, but made it home safe gave him the credit for it. It didn’t make any sense to Adrian.
Did they not remember the broken fingers and the slurs and the misogyny and the smell? Why had all that been suddenly forgiven? Even the police force talked about him like a mythical being now. They had spent years hunting him. Many of them had been hurt in the process. And then he had escaped from their worst prison right before the world ended. Was that it? Was it just nostalgia for the pre-squid days?
As infuriating as it was, Adrian was just a businessman now, enough of a philanthropist that no one begrudged him profiting from the disaster, and rich enough to make sure no sincere threats got close to him. He had wanted to keep his works a secret, but every now and then he wondered if it hadn’t worked too well. Rorschach was the legend now. You couldn’t kill a ghost. Burning away the old world hadn’t erased his mark on it. He was beyond even Adrian’s reach now, as much as it galled. More people believed in him than had ever believed in Ozymandias. The only thing about it more bothersome was the fact that it bothered him at all. Adrian was above such things and there was still work to be done, no matter how many spray painted blobs of black and white appeared on his billboards.