(no subject)

[flagg]

Friends. Countrymen.

[ A smiling man, a man lowering the hood of his jacket. A man with a U.S. army coat over that, old jeans, worn cowboy boots, and a beat up Boy Scouts backpack. He's almost like anyone but for a touch of something antiquated about his clothes and the way he talks.

That and the smile. ]

Will you tell me a story? A joke or two to while away the time? I am a man for wanderin', but this seems like a fine place to pull up a chair and take a breather. A fine, safe place, where a story or two could do no harm at all.

And if you like, why, I'll tell you one right back. That's only fair.

Comments

[flagg]

[ The man with the black hood has a very penetrating stare, and his eyes are dark enough that the tracking movement of his gaze is just barely visible. He's following the patterns of the mask as if they hold meaning for him, and as the joke comes to an end, his gaze moves back to where Rorschach's eyes are behind it. He was already smiling, of course, but now he throws his head back and laughs, delighted. The right audience for the wrong joke, it seems. ]

I'd be a liar if I said I hadn't heard that one before, but not for a long, long time. Does a heart good to hear it again. Thank you kindly, sir. And may the god of dead dogs bless all the little children.

[moralabsolutism]

[He's not used to making men laugh. Cringe in terror or scream in pain, yes. But humor is a new one for the vigilante. Maybe he should try it more often. He stares out at the man, eyes unblinking in his black-and-white face.]

Got one in return?

[flagg]

[ It is possible that everything about Rorschach would make Flagg laugh exactly like that. He stares back in a parody of thoughtfulness, tap-tapping his fingers on the podium. ]

Let me see. Well, why not another old saw. Man takes his wife to the hospital because she's so sick she collapsed. After she's been in surgery for hours, the doctor comes out and sits the man down and says, "I've got some good news and a lot of bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

Man asks for the bad news, so the doctor tells him she's got a brain tumor. "But that's not all," the doctor says, "She's going to lose control of her body over time. You'll have to take care of her, feed her, turn her so she doesn't get bed sores, and change her diapers."

The man starts to cry. Doctor says, "Wait, I'm not finished. She'll also suffer dementia. She'll lose her memories and won't remember who you are, or who she is."

By now the man's sobbing his eyes out. Doctor says, "And unfortunately, she might linger on for years and years."

The man's completely desolate now, but he thinks to ask, "What's the good news, then?"

The doctor claps him on the shoulder and says, "I was just kidding, she's dead."

[moralabsolutism]

Hurm. [That's all the reaction Rorschach gives, without so much as a chuckle or a clap to indicate he's amused. However, his blots spread out in a wobbly pattern reminiscent of a smile before they disperse once more, though that might just be a coincidence.]

Good joke. [He eventually concludes after another long moment.]

[flagg]

[ He seems unperturbed, chuckling to himself with all the comfort and self-assurance of a lunatic. ]

And now I have a question for you, sir. No obligation at all, just curiosity, a man can't help but wonder and such questions do pass the time... where do you get a face like that.

[moralabsolutism]

[He's pleased when Flagg refers to it as his face and not a mask, as most people incorrectly do. For that, he gets an actual answer rather than the usual laconic responses.]

Made it. From a very unique fabric. Two layers, with black 'n white fluids inside. They move but never mix. Like what I see in the mirror better now.

[flagg]

[ Where his knack for knowing how to speak to malcontents comes from is in all likelihood a dark, dark place. ]

That is a very singular thing, friend. For a man to make himself. Even I can't claim that! But do you know, when I watch you, I think I can see — yes, I believe I spy with my little Eye —

[ His voice takes on an almost crooning inflection, a merry, avid light in his stare. ]

— a place where the black and white mingle.

[ He makes a gesture by his temple, a hooking motion with the curled finger stabbing in Rorschach's direction, and mouths: behind. ]

[moralabsolutism]

[It's only now that Rorschach is getting the inkling that this man he's talking to may be crazier than a bag of cats. Guess it's harder to distinguish when the superhero isn't exactly all there himself.

He actually turns around and glances behind himself when Flagg makes the motion in his direction. He sees nothing there and so looks back, head cocked in a questioning manner.]

Might mingle but never mix.