The "From The Pages Of..." Comics Universe RPG

[absonic93]

Tracy tried and tried to start the car, but it wouldn't start.

Just her luck. The two people who came to save her have a crap car.

She pounded the gas as she turned the keys in the ignition, praying that she would hear the noise of the running car.

As she furiously attempted to escape, she heard a russle in the bushes. She looked out the window of the passenger car, leaning over to see if anything had come out of the woods.

Confident that it was just her imagination, she turned back only to find the killer standing outside of the driver window. Tracy screamed as she locked the doors and continued trying to start the car.

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE" She cried as lightning flashed behind the man with the hockey mask.

 

[RGDurant]

Jason stared daggers at Tracy for a minute, then reached down and grabbed the door handled. But it being locked and wouldn't open, Jason ended up breaking the handle off the door. He threw the useless piece of metal away in frustation and put his fist through the windshield.

He watched Tracy continue to struggle with the ignition while he clawed out for her.

 

[absonic93]

The killer's hands reached through the broken window as Tracy leaned away, still trying to start the car.

As he reached closer and closer for her, Tracy was running out of options. She eyed a small hunting knife and grabbed it, impaling it into her attacker's hand.

And by a miracle, or perhaps just luck, Tracy didn't care, the car started.

 

[RGDurant]

Jason pulled his hand out of the glass and examine the knife sticking through his hand. He pulled it out and turned when the car drove off, spewing mud on him as Tracy sped away.

Jason flung the knife at the car and broke one of the backlights, but in a matter of moments, the car disappeared into the night.

He stood there for a minute with his chest heaving, he then sheathed his machete and head off back into his woods to dispose of the bodies of his recent victims.

 

[absonic93]

She slammed the door behind her as she collapsed in her apartment.

Tracy had arrived home by 5:00 after she figured out just how much distance she had gone over the past night from hell.

She wondered if the man who had abducted her from her apartment was connected to the man who tried to brutally slaughter her. She would find out who was behind this. Just being alive makes a statement to any enemy she may have and Tracy wasn't going down without a fight.

Making her way slowly to the bathroom, she began wrapping her shoulder with bandage, grimacing in pain with each passing moment. She would have to get it checked out, somehow without suspicion. As she finished, she picked up her phone, dialing it rapidly.

After several rings, Tracy heard the voice on the other side.

"Hello?"

Before shse replied though, Tracy immediately hung up.

She couldn't tell people what had happened. She wouldn't admit that her new enemy had gotten to her.

This wasn't the end though. Tracy Strauss would not be intimidated.

Tracy Strauss would win this battle.

 

[Byrd Man]

"It's starting to worry me out there." Detective Steven Fine says to his partner as they ride down the New York street in the early morning hours.

"Yeah, that goddamn child molester may have had it coming but..." Detective Joe Bourquin says with a shutter.

Both men are twenty year veterans of the NYPD, they've seen many horrible things in their time. But the crime scene they went to a few hours earlier made both men turn white.

"The guy was out of jail for what, two days at the most? I know you sometimes make enemies in the joint, but nobody knocks you off within 48 hours...and what they did to him......I'm not even sure he deserved that."

"I just wish we could find the bastard who did that." Fine says as he pulls a cigarette out of his shirt pocket.

"Do you think it might be....vigilante justice?" Bourquin says gingerly.

"Rorschach? Naw. I know he popped his cap before all the heat on the Keene Act, but I don't think even he's gotten that crazy...."

The cops unmarked squad car stops at a red light. A red-headed bum holding a sign goes in front of the car on the crosswalk.

"Heh. Check that guy's sign. 'The End is Nigh'...yeah, right.

************

"No, no, no!" The drug dealer screams as Rorschach slings him into the side of an alleyway.

"Don't worry. Just need to ask few question." He says as he pins the man to the wall.

"Your new boss. Who is it?"

"I-I don't know!"

The masked vigilante grabs the mans hand and twists hard, a sickening pop echoes through the empty alley.

"Please! If I tell you if you let me go."

"Talk!"

"I haven't seen him, just his middle men..guy calls his self...Grendel! Okay!"

Rorschach curtly nods, then proceeds to break the rest of the man's arm. The drug dealer slides against the wall and starts to blabber.

"You said you'd let me go! We had a deal!"

"No compromise. You assumed it. You're wicked and evil. No matter the cost, evil must be punished. Must make example out of you."

The man lets out a blood curdling scream as the masked adventurer inches closer.

*************

Rorschach's Journal, February 26th, 2009

Tonight yielded results. Found out who is behind the recent influx of crime and corruption. Captured three fiends, all of them said the same story before their timely deaths. Known only as Grendel, never met the man.

Big Figure was put away almost twenty years ago by Nite-Owl and myself, since then would-be crime bosses come out of the woodwork every few years, before they are destroyed by their own graft and wickedness, or better yet by me.

This one seems to be more complex, he is no simple drug pusher with a small phallus who makes up for it with violence. This "Grendel" is truly an unkown entity. For this, I shall concede that I need help.

I must turn to the only man I trust. A man that I have no seen in many years.

Daniel Dreiberg. The second Nite-Owl.
​

 

[Green Lantern]

"There are no such things as superpowers."

"But General-!"

"No, 'buts'. There is no official evidence of superpowers or abnormal abilities ever existing. All such claims for former 'heroes' and 'villains' were disproved. They all use advanced technologies or mind-altering agents, yes. Even various types of illusion..."

"But he disappeard, General. He just...vanished."

The General tightens her lips as she looks at me. "Agent Walker, did you witness this...vanishing?"

Sarah looks at me like she wants to help. I nod at her, hoping she can. But her eyes drop and she looks back at the screen. "I'm sorry, General. I...didn't."

The General nods. "Major Casey, you're opinion?"

Make myself look bad and discredit the scumsucker, or tell the truth and get the General mad at me.

"Think he stuck me with something, General. Slowed me down, but he didn't 'vanish' like Bartowski says."

Casey smiles at the betrayed look in Bartowski's eyes and drops him a slight wink. "I'm disappointed in you, Major Casey. I'd have thought you would have better judgement."

Casey grunts and glares at Chuck.

 

[RGDurant]

Darkman sat at his lopsided table, his emotions as ragged as the bandages about his head and face. He stared at the unusual pistol he took off the man he left dead in that alley with his spike hurling partner. He had racked his brain over the whole situation with them and the woman who sent them flying into the wall with a some unseen force she controlled. Peyton was mumbling to himself over theories.

"Why did they want her? ransom? sex slavery? assassination? they wouldn't have tazed her, they would have shot her dead. They looked professional, they had done this before, and this gun, strange to have a gun this distinctive, they both had one, like they were issued them."

He rubbed his temples, no clues presented themselves, no theories that made sense, though nothing had made sense to him for the longest time.

"Why should I care, I was just walking home, trying to have a peaceful night for once. I shouldn't press this, I shouldn't get involved with these people. I have my purpose, to perfect my skin, to solve a problem in this world instead of just causing them. I got to try and live a normal, quiet existance, none of these vigilante escapades to complicate my life and the lives of others."

Darkman pushed to gun aside to read that day's paper. The usual news of murders and rape. a terrorist attack here, an epidemic there with pepperings of economic crisis. He turned to page three and one article caught his eye.

Vigilante Rorschach Strikes Again, Five Criminals Found Murdered​

He went through the story, intrigued by the brutal details of how this Rorschach dealt with the criminal fraternity. He knew he wasn't the only guy in this city who hated scum and went out at night to prowl. They were the uncomprimising law, they had no need for badges or procedure. They made sure that pedophiles could not hide in asylum, that murderers did not go free because some idiot didn't sign a warrant in the wrong place, that the corrupt couldn't buy their way out of justice.

Peyton looked back over at the gun and had a change of heart.

"Then again, I guess I will look further into this. I'm not a regular scientist anymore, nor a regular man. I'm everyone, and no one, everywhere, and nowhere. Peyton Westlake is dead, I'm The Darkman."

 

[Eddie Brock]

DR. MANHATTAN

It's 2009. I'm standing in New York.


It's 1965. My father is arguing with me.

"These are no times for a repairer of watchers!" he insists. He snatches up the pieces of the watch I was working on. "Shall my son follow me into an obsolete trade?"

"Father!" I shout in protest. My words fall on deaf ears. "Give me that back!"

He walks determinedly to the fire escape. I'm quick on his heels, but I cannot catch him. In one swift motion, he tosses the cogs into the air. I reach for them, but I'm too late. I always have been too late. Always will be too late.


It's 1983. The door to the chamber is closing.


It's 1990. Janey is packing her things.


It's 1972. My first day at Princeton.


It's 1999. Laurie is leaving.

"Oh, God, Jon, how could you?" she asks, pain running through her voice. She turns away from me. She cannot stand to face me anymore. "I'm leaving. I'm getting dressed and I'm leaving."

I say what I think I should say. "Laurie, can't we talk?" I ask. "If you think there's a problem with my attitude, I'm prepared to discuss it." My words are hollow. I don't know what I'm saying. To be honest, I don't know why she's so upset. "Laurie?"

I reach out and reform the beaker that Laurie threw in her anger. Good as new.


It's 1965. The cogs are falling.


It's 2001. The South Tower is collapsing. I'm no longer on Earth.


It's 1991. I'm standing at Gila Flats, holding a picture.


Ten seconds from now. I hold the picture in my hand again.


It's 1983. I'm standing at Gila Flats.

"So you're this new guy from Princeton we heard about, huh?" Wally Weaver asks rhetorically. After a moment, he asks curiously, "Say, wasn't Einstein at Princeton?"

I joke, "Not while I was." We share a laugh. Deep down, I wish I had heard him lecture. Even just once.


Five seconds from now. I wonder who the smiling faces in the picture are.


It's 1983. I see the terror in Dr. Glass's face.


Three seconds.


It's 1965. The cogs are falling. I reach out in vain.


One second.


I gaze at the picture in my hand. Upon seeing the smiling faces of myself and Janey, I wonder who these people must be. Surely, it could not have been us. Surely, there was never a time when we could have been this happy.


It's 1990. Janey is trying to close her suitcase. She's crying.


Ten seconds from now. I'm gone.


My fingers relax, and the picture slips from my hand. It falls slowly to the ground.


It's 1965. The cogs are falling.


Three seconds from now. I'm gone.


I close my eyes. The picture continues to fall. The cogs continue to fall. The chamber door closes - as does Janey's suitcase. I open my eyes again.

"It is time."​

 

[wiegeabo]

Make myself look bad and discredit the scumsucker, or tell the truth and get the General mad at me.

"Think he stuck me with something, General. Slowed me down, but he didn't 'vanish' like Bartowski says."

Casey smiles at the betrayed look in Bartowski's eyes and drops him a slight wink. "I'm disappointed in you, Major Casey. I'd have thought you would have better judgement."

Casey grunts and glares at Chuck.

"What?! Wait, no! Sarah, come on!" Sarah looks at Casey in confusion. For a moment, I think she may be feeling what I feel. Betrayal. But it's gone in an instant and she returns to being professional again.

"Casey, you said-!" I point at him, but he just stares back at me. "I-but-uh-" I glance frome Casey to Sarah to the General, back to Sarah to Casey to the General, to- "You said!"

"That's enough, Mr. Bartowski." The General shuts the conversation down, but I still feel angry at Casey. So I just look down towards the table, and shake my head slightly.

"I have a mission for you." The General taps a few keys, and part of the screen is filled with images. "The CIA has an outpost near the town of Barrow, Alaska."

"Barrrrooowww..."

*flash*

I point at the screen and talk loudly. "Barrow, Alaska. Popluation 3,982. 5 miles north of CIA Bio-Agent Analysis Unit 17." I turn to the others, shocked about the information in my head. "They test weaponized virus there?! Why would they have weaponized viruses?!"

"Calm down, Chuck. Those units search for cures, treatments. Anything that can be used to protect innocents from viral attacks."

The General continues, interrupting our interruption. "For the last 3 three days, there has been no contact with either the unit or the town."

Sarah nods. "Suspicious. But why bring us in on it? Wouldn't a CIA taskforce be better equiped and prepared?"

"Correct, Agent Walker." The General taps a few more keys. "And you will rendezvous with a joint CIA/NSA group when you arrive. We believe Fulcrum may have infiltrated the town in an attempt to breach the facility. They've made similar attempts on two other bio-agent units within the last six months. We need Chuck there to flash on everyone you come across and find any Fulcrume agents."

"...You want me to flash on 4,000 people?"

 

[RGDurant]

After dumping the hunter's bodies into the lake, Jason returned to his cabin. He jammed his machete into the floorboards in anger at not killing Tracy, and went to his bed. He found his teddy bear lying on the floor, he picked it up, brushed it of with care, and set it back on his pillow.

Jason sat down on a dusty chair and removed his hockey mask to hang it on his bedpost.

 

[Eddie Brock]

DR. MANHATTAN

In a blinding flash of blue light, I appear in Times Square. Cars swerve, people duck for cover, and the streetlights flicker. As I slowly touch down, I observe my surroundings. New York has changed since I last saw it. Judging by the people's responses, they've changed, too. There was a time when I was a welcomed sight. Now, they seem to be afraid of me. Unsurprisingly. Mankind has never done well with the unfamiliar, and a decade long absence has put me in that category. Such a shame. I now have so much work to do.

In under an hour, I will tell Edward Blake of the death he was supposed to experience. He takes the news in a different way than I expected. Tomorrow, I will visit Laurie. Her joy at seeing me will be overpowered noticeably by her resentment towards me. The reunion will end in a bitter fight. After apologizing to her mother, I will leave. Laurie and I will make up within the week.

Sighing, I realize that all of this is contingent on the timeline going unaltered. Yet, at the same time, I'm inexplicably excited. It's been so long since I've felt uncertainty. Not knowing what will come next...it's a thrill for me. Even so, I don't know how to deal with it. I feel like I'm blindfolded. I feel human. The thought terrifies me. After everything I've seen that humans have done to themselves and will do to themselves, I am in no hurry to rejoin their ranks. Had it not been for the shifts in the timeline, I would have never returned to this blue planet.

Yet, here I am. And all of New York now knows it.
​

 

[Carnage27]

Oroku Saki
The Shredder
​

Master Tatsu was a dangerous man. He had killed many a man with his bare hands, and was an infamous ninja assassin known throughout the world. He was the first lieutenant to the master of the ninja clan known as The Foot.

But there was one thing that made the ninja sweat...talking to his master, Oroku Saki. And he hated it more when he had bad news.

Tatsu slowly opens the door to his master's meditation room, and stands at attention.

"What is it, Tatsu? Do you have a report on the freaks?"

The burly, bald man bows and begins, "Master Shredder, thirty men engaged the turtles earlier tonight."

"And?"

"The turtles managed to escape...and we lost seven men in the process. On top of that, we've gotten word that our location may have been given away."

"How, Tatsu?"

"Rorschach, apparently."

The Shredder could feel the anger pulsing through his veins. He had been planning his rise back to power for years, and now that he was finally ready to begin, it seemed as if those that would dare oppose him were gaining strength.

He should have killed Rorschach years ago, but he let the pest be. He would not make the same mistake again. It was time to strike at those that moved against his designs.

"Then it is time, my friend," the impressive form of Oroku Saki says as he stands and puts on his helmet.

"Time for what, Master Shredder?"

"For The Foot to return to it's place of prominence. We've been hiding and gaining our strength, but it is no longer the time for hiding. If the masks want to come out and fight us, then we shall do the same, with everything we've got."

The Shredder strolls over to a window that overlooks the compound's training dojo, and marvels at the warriors he has trained. It would only be a matter of time until what he want was his.

And he would kill all those that stood in his way.

 

[Batman]

The year was 1995. William Jefferson Clinton had been sworn into office of President just two years earlier. And while his four previous predecessors were hesitant to gauge the potential conflict that loomed within the Senate from the topic of an unsigned act approved only by Richard M. Nixon in 1985, Clinton had effectively broken the silence of the issue when he brought it up from the archives and announced it would be passed as law. The act in question was the Keene agenda, outlawing masked vigilantism and cutting the population of costumed superheroes from immunity of arrest.

But the law's potential resurface was met with reactions of nearly cataclysmic proportions. Once the idea of the thinning community of costumed superheroes being depleated was put into perspective, many former supervillains had taken what was considered to be their saving grace in stride, collectively beginning to attack American citizens in the hopes that the bill's signing would make haste and end superheroism forever. As a result, many police officers had gone on strike in fear, leaving the streets of New York City, Basin City, and others protected by little more than vigilance... an ironic twist of fate, all things considered. But the strike had prompted chaos, leading to international riots over a period of weeks, declaring the public's distrust of their would-be heroes.

Nite-Owl, secretly the mild-mannered Dan Dreiberg, was one of the heroes trying to keep the peace. But almost the very moment he entered the battlefield ahead of him, the realization had quickly dawned upon him that even with his gadgetry and prowess to keep above being killed by the rioters, he was in way over his head.

"Please, people, listen to me!", He pleaded over a megaphone, hanging off of the side of his massive aircraft, the Owlship. "The police strike is being negotiated! There's no need for this! Please, just put down your weapons and cease! Return to your homes!"

"Who's gonna make us, vigilante? I don't see no badge!", One idle member of the crowd of looters shouted, as an electronic store's front window was shattered, prompting an invasion of desperate bystanders.

Nite-Owl watched them, horrified, as they took to the objects within like animals. But even as he reached for his utility belt to bring forth something to prevent the robbery, he couldn't bring himself to go through with it. These people weren't the criminals he was used to fighting. They were just people. People out of line, perhaps, but understandably so. The country was in anarchy, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Shaking his head, helpless, Dan commanded the Owlship to hover forward, as other citizens fled, eager to make it to the next block to continue their unlawful acts. The government would not ignore them any longer. Masked vigilantes had no place in their world, and even if he didn't want to admit it, Dan was starting to see their side. But at the cost of the country's sanity, was it really worth all of this violence?

At a fourway intersection on the end of the block, Dan finally stopped the Owlship, and leaped down from it's hub.

Backup... gotta find backup...

"H-Hey, man! I was... I was just... I wasn't doing anything! Please don't hurt- ACK!"

Nite-Owl's head shot towards the direction of a dark alleyway, as several sickening sounds came from the void of shadows. Someone was being slaughtered in there. Dan took a deep breath, and was about to retrieve his shuriken as a weapon, but stopped when he immediately saw the thug in question thrown out onto the pavement. His arm was twisted and his nose was bloodied, as his eyes rolled back into unconciousness. And stepping out behind him was a more-than-familiar face...

"Rorschach!", Dan called out, running over to the scene as the vigilante stepped into light, wiping his gloves. "God, am I glad to see you. Listen, man, I can't do this on my own. I need some-"

Dan stopped, as he realized something. What Rorschach was wiping from his gloves was fresh blood. The thug hadn't been attempting to kill anyone. He was being assaulted by Rorschach the entire time. The inkblots on the rogue vigilante's mask shifted, as he finally acknowledged the nervous Nite-Owl's prescence.

"Ran into trouble,", Rorschach coldly explained, walking past the nearly lifeless thug's body. "Won't be bothering innocents again."

"I...uh, I can see that.", Dan responded, uneasy at the sight at his feet. "I guess we've all been kind of busy, huh?"

Rorschach didn't respond immediately. Instead, he just looked forth, ignoring Dan for a tense moment. "Some of us."

Nite-Owl looked back, watching the fleeing citizens. Trying to do what he could to ignore the tension between him and his former friend. As much as he valued Rorschach's friendship over the years, he had heard all of the rumors. Starting back when he had handled the Blaire Roche kidnapping. After that, his friend hadn't been the same. He had started becoming more brutal. More unforgiving. And speaking in some unsettling growl, almost a hoarse voice from beneath his mask.

Then again, maybe Rorschach wasn't the only one that had changed. Everyone was.

"Look, I'm just glad you're here,", Dan finally stated. "These riots are getting out of hand. Someone's going to get hurt, or worse. We need to keep the peace."

"Someone is getting hurt.", Rorschach agressively replied. "Not us."

"I..", Dan stuttered. "What do you mean?"

"Whole world descending to madness.", he explained. "Mistakes of past made. Can't keep fighting soft. Can't keep being merciful. World won't allow it. Not anymore."

Dan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was he actually suggesting that... they become executioners?

"Rorschach, y... you can't really mean that.", Dan urged. "They're just... they're not thinking straight. This Keene act's got everyone on edge. They're still citizens."

Rorschach looked Dan straight in eyes. Even with Dan's goggles and his own mask, both heroes were intuned in that moment to the passionate hatred in his voice. "Not anymore."

And in that moment, Dan didn't know what else to say. He simply watched the man he once trusted treaded back into the shadows of which he came, as he gave a final warning.

"Open eyes, Daniel. World needs hope. Evil must be punished."

He was right. The world needed hope.

But not that kind of hope.

God almighty. What's happened to us?

In that instant, a spectrum of light beamed through the sky. Dan looked up, the goggles of his mask glowing off of the reflection as a large blue ball of energy began to form within thin air itself. Even though the sight frightened the few remaining rioters left on the block, Dan recognized the phenomena immediately as that of Jon Osterman. Doctor Manhattan.

And sure enough, it was not a second later that Manhattan and his young wife, The second Silk Spectre, appeared within the air above him. Dan stepped back, even himself a bit astonished, as the god-like man of unparalleled power stepped onto solid ground. Even that in itself sent shockwaves of static electricity throughout Dan's body, causing the hairs on his head to literally stand under his mask.

"J-Jon? Laurie?", He asked, fixing his crooked lenses pulled away from his face by the magnetic pull. "Are you guys, uh..."

"Have we arrived to aide? Indeed.", Manhattan responded, with no trace of emotion. "It is good to see you once again, Nite-Owl. And I wish we could stay."

Dan blinked, confused. "What? But, you just said-"

"It was my complete intention to subdue the rioters, I assure you. But I am about to be informed by my Government contacts that the White House is to be endangered from similar threat."

Silk Spectre, her real name known within the superhero fraternity to be Laurie Juspeczyk, looked up at her husband with both confusion and outright frustration. "Jon, what do you... you mean, you knew that all along? Then why the hell did you send us down here?!"

"My apologies, Laurie. I know this can be, at times, frustrating for you. But I cannot help what has been set forth."

"Oh, no you don't. You're not starting that again!", Laurie argued, placing a firm finger on Manhattan's chest. "Dammit, Jon. If you know the future, act upon it! You don't have to keep following some stupid..."

Laurie sighed, realizing that the argument would end up nowhere. It was pointless to try and rationalize with a man who knew everything. And to Dan, seeing the way that Jon looked at her during her protest, he could tell that he was not particularly bothered by her temperance anyway. Not that it was any of his business.

"Well, I mean... it's no big deal.", Dan calmly assured him. "You'll probably be done with the other protesters in no time, right? Then you could teleport back and help us out?"

Manhattan turned away from his angry wife, as if nothing had happened. "I am afraid not. Both statistically and factually speaking, it is unlikely that the President will allow me to leave the capitol for the night. He says he feels... safer, with my presence."

"Then let me stay here.", Laurie interjected. "These crowds are getting rough, and I'm sure Dan would want all the help that he could get."

"Oh, don't say that on my account. I don't want to be a bothe-"

"In good conscience, I cannot allow that, either. In two hours time, you will request to be teleported to California, in order to be with your mother."

"W-what? I... stop that!", Laurie shouted, enraged. "What did I just tell you? Dammit, do you ever listen to me!?"

Dan simply watched in silence as the two bickered, his head going from one to the other as they made their arguments. The woman standing in the skintight, yellow spandex and the man who was glowing blue. It was an odd sight to behold, even having known both of the crimefighters for years.

"Uh, Jon... the rioters?", He asked, looking nervously back at the

"Hmm?", Manhattan replied, turning his attention away from Laurie as she was still speaking. "I'm sorry, but I was just being informed by my Government contacts that there are rioters at the White House gates. I suppose we should be going. It has been good to see you again, Nite-Owl. I wish you luck."

"Jon, don't turn away from me when I'm-"

And in a flash, they were both gone. Leaving Dan by himself, to stare into the skies of which they evaporated.

"Uh, sure...", He said to himself. "Sure, you too. T-take care..."

But as he headed for the streets, almost immediately after Jon and Laurie, Dan found himself staring at the skies again. This time, in response o a different, but equally as distracting noise. A large black helicopter for the Army was looming above the street, ready to land. Running out of it's path, Dan quickly leaped onto the sidewalk's pavement as the craft touched down, it's loud blades blowing debris throughout the streets. Dan shielded himself with his cape, as several bits of trash came at him. It almost kept him from seeing who had lept out of the copter's bunker.

Then he heard that laugh. Oh, no...

"What've we got here?", The masked soldier asked, toting a rather large shotgun over his shoulder. "Looks like ya need'ya some reinforcement, Bird Guy."

"That's... Nite-Owl,", Dan nervously corrected. "It's been awhile, Comedian."

The Comedian smirked, chomping down a cigar within the mouth of his leather mask. "But not long enough, huh?"

Dan adjusted his goggles. Again. "I, uh... I wasn't going to say that."

"Sure ya were. Believe me, I get it all the time!", He laughed, giving a hard slap to Dan's back. "But 'nough fraternizin'. Yer with me. So let's go wipe the smiles off'a some'a those jokers..."

"I,", Dan stuttered, wanting to argue against it. "Sure. Okay. Sure. Just let me get Archie over here. We can cover more ground..."

"The hell's an 'Archie'?", Comedian asked, loading his guns.

"Archiemedes. The name's inspired from, uh...", He began, pulling out the controls. "Well, you probably wouldn't want to hear it anyway."

It was that night, and the first of many to come, that Dan Dreiberg actually found himself to be scared out of his mind. The world was changing around him, faster than he was willing to keep up with. And the worst part is... he didn't know if he actually could.

"So what happened then?"

The year was now 2009. And despite their efforts on that fateful night over ten years earlier, the Keene law had officially made it's way to Congress over a week later. Masks, at least those worn by vigilantes, had been outlawed ever since. And Dan, having hung up his Nite-Owl uniform, was now in retirement. Or what he considered to be that, at least.

Dan smiled as his good friend, the elderly Hollis Mason and first man to take the Nite-Owl name, eagerly awaited the next part of the tale. He'd honestly thought Hollis would have gotten tired of hearing Dan's stories... but then again, by contrast, Dan had never grown tired of hearing his.

"C'mon, Danny. I'm only gettin' older! Now, you and Eddie Blake...", Hollis reminded him, in order to keep the story going.

"Right. The Comedian,", Dan continued, fixing his glasses. "Well, after that, we took Archie over to 5th street and main, and tried to stop another crowd. They didn't really appreciate our prescence, though, so it wasn't long until Comedian... uh... found a beer bottle being thrown in his face."

"Hahaha!", Hollis chuckled. "Wow. Tough crowd for The Comedian that night, huh?"

"Definitely. I swear, I've never seen that many people so angry before.", Dan admitted. "You'd think we were criminals. And the names they called him? I almost felt sorry for the guy."

"Yeah, I might've had something to do with that...", Hollis nervously replied, looking over at a copy of his memoir on the shelf. 'Under The Hood'. "But in the end, it all worked out, right?"

Dan's shifted away, trying to hide the memories that were creeping up on him. "Well... not nessecarily. I mean, we kept the peace, but it wasn't really worth it in the end. The act was still passed. People still died."

"People lived, too.", Hollis corrected him. "You always gotta remember that in our work, Danny. No matter how bad it got, it could've been alot worse. That's what we were there for."

Dan smiled to himself, his esteem slightly raised higher by Hollis' advice. "I guess you're right, Hollis. Thanks."

"Anytime,", Hollis modestly shrugged, before noticing the clock. "Oh. Speaking of which..."

Grabbing his overcoat, Dan nodded, helping to put away the two empty bottles of beer that the two had drank. "Yeah, it's getting late. I've got alot of stuff to do around the apartment, and I'm sure you don't need to be kept up at this hour."

"Heh. Don't worry about me. I made a career off of late nights, remember?"

Dan grinned, as he put on his coat. "Good point. Same time tommorow?"

"For you, Danny? Always. Take care."

"You too, old friend."

But as Dan exited the front door of Mason's Auto Repair Shop, entering the night of New York City, his smile quickly began to fade. He remembered alot about that night... and truth be told, he was glad that he didn't get to finish the story. Seeing the things that The Comedian would do to those people...

It didn't matter. It was all behind him, now. Retirement had come upon Dan Dreiberg, and he needed to stop wallowing in his own pity and enjoy it for what it was worth. Nite-Owl was gone, and the world wasn't his problem anymore. He was free.

The question was... did he ever want to be free? Dan wondered this, subsequently beginning to imagine the argument in his head about this for the rest of the evening.

Well, I guess it's going to be another long night...

Little did he know, that was going to be an understatement.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Dan Dreiberg walked with slumped shoulders as he made his way to his apartment.

His eyes caught something strange at the front door, the lock was broken and the door was half open.

"H-hello?" He says sheepishly as he pushes the door open.

The flabby former Nite-Owl quietly walks through his apartment, glancing at the books on their shelves, and the family photos and snap shots of birds hung on the wall.

Walking down the hall, he hears a strange noise from the kitchen.

SLORP!

CLOMP!

GULP!

While it had been many years since he had worn his Owlsuit, he still had his training.

Preparing to strike, he opens up the kitchen door quickly and rushes in.

"Hello, Daniel."

Rorscach turns to his old partner, his masked rolled up to reveal his mouth.

In one hand he has an opened can of beans, a spoon in the other.

"Got hungry waiting. Hope you don't mind."​

 

[Carnage27]

A sai slices by the side of my head, while I deliver a quick kick to Raph's chest as a counter. We're in the dojo sparring, something we usually do everyday.

"You're angry, Raph," I say as I slice down with my katana, "and it's showing."

Raph catches my swords in the prongs of his sai and headbutts me in the nose, "Yea well, maybe I'd rather be fighting some Foot ninjas instead of my 'fearless leader'."

I perform two backflips and sheath my katana, "You're right, Raph. We should just waltz into a compound filled with hundreds of ninjas, which could include one of the most dangerous villains in the world, with absolutely no idea what we're up against. Sounds like a sound plan to me."

"It would sure beat waiting around for them to come to us," he replies as he sits next to me in a meditation pose.

"Splinter says that if it is The Shredder, he's not going to sit around an wait very long," I sit in the same pose as Raph and think back to something Splinter told us last night.

A storm is brewing, Leonardo. Just like the last time. The evil of this world is gaining power, and we must be ready to help stop it.

"Do you think Splinter is right? Do you really think another war is coming, Raph? Between the masks and the villains?"

He looks at me with a smile, "I don't know, Leo. But if there is, the bad guys better be shakin' in their boats this time."

"Why's that?"

"Cuz this time, the masks got four turtles on their side that're ready to kick shell."

"Haha, you're right, bro," I laugh as I head for my beadroom.

He comes up and puts his arm around me, "Good fight, bro."

"You too, Raph."
​

 

[Batman]

"Hello, Daniel."

Rorscach turns to his old partner, his masked rolled up to reveal his mouth.

In one hand he has an opened can of beans, a spoon in the other.

"Got hungry waiting. Hope you don't mind."

When Dan walked up to his apartment's doorstep, noticing the shattered lock, he expected many things. Due to the time of night, and the fact that he was living in a neighborhood on the streets of a vast metropolis like New York City, it would be simple to assume an ordinary burglar. And with all the enemies he had made during his days as a costumed adventurer, Dan was stretching his imagination even farther than that. What if someone like Moloch the Mystic, or The Underboss had figured out his former identity? What if they were looking for payback? Whoever it was that had broken into his home, he had to be prepared.

What he wasn't prepared for was exactly what he had gotten.

"Ruh... Rorschach!", Dan exclaimed, nearly dropping his coat to the floor in surprise. "I-I mean, no! Of course not! Of course I don't mind. Do you need those heated up, or...?"

Rorschach stuck another spoonful of the raw beans into his mouth, as the juice ran down his stubble in a sickeningly sloppy manner. "No need. Fine like this."

Dan rubbed the back of his head, unsure of what to do. He honestly felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Rorschach had been his best friend for years, of course... but after that night in 1995, he wasn't sure that he could ever call the vigilante that again. And especially not after all of the things he had heard.

But right now, that wasn't important. All Dan was concerned with was not slipping up and setting off Rorschach's temper. Because he honestly wasn't sure if he was safe to be in the same room with him.

"That's... good. Okay, then.", He replied, trying to ease up a bit. "What brings you, uh... what brings you around these parts, man? It's been ...awhile."

 

[Byrd Man]

But right now, that wasn't important. All Dan was concerned with was not slipping up and setting off Rorschach's temper. Because he honestly wasn't sure if he was safe to be in the same room with him.

"That's... good. Okay, then.", He replied, trying to ease up a bit. "What brings you, uh... what brings you around these parts, man? It's been ...awhile."

Swallowing the last of the beans, Rorschach rolls his mask back down over his face.

"It's been years, Daniel. You've put on weight. Gotten flabby."

Putting his hands in his pockets, the masked vigilante starts to pace in the kitchen.

"Came here tonight for one reason. Word on street is there is a new boss in town. Named Grendel. Came across some his thugs before. They got what they deserved. Took me longer than usual. Need help on this one. Came to only man I can trust. Only man I used to trust. But I see that man no longer exists. Nite-Owl is no more."

 

[Batman]

"It's been years, Daniel. You've put on weight. Gotten flabby."

"Came here tonight for one reason. Word on street is there is a new boss in town. Named Grendel. Came across some his thugs before. They got what they deserved. Took me longer than usual. Need help on this one."

Dan's eyes fixated back and forth, as Rorschach paced the floors of his kitchen. With every step he took away, however, Dan was slowly pacing backwards himself. Because on the counter behind him, a cellphone lied just beyond his reach. Damned if he didn't know how to use the thing, but there wasn't much stopping him from trying. If he could call the police, he could get Rorschach in a psychiatric ward, and maybe get him the help that he needed...

"Came to only man I can trust. Only man I used to trust."

And just like that, he couldn't do it. Even if Rorschach was as out of his mind as they said he was, Dan couldn't find it in his heart to betray him. Between the two men, they had some good times, and even greater stories to tell. Some of the best times of his life, Dan even thought. And he owed Rorschach that much, at the very least, not to turn him in.

"But I see that man no longer exists. Nite-Owl is no more."

Dan finally moved his hand away from the cellphone, as he tried to figure out what exactly Rorschach had meant by that comment. Obviously, he had never gotten the chance to talk with him about his retirement. And even if he didn't actually owe an explaination to the man, Dan had still felt guilty about distancing himself from Rorschach in that final year. Even if he was, with reason, scared out of his mind.

"Nite-Owl's been 'no more' for awhile, now,", Dan suggested, removing his glasses and rubbing the lenses on his dress shirt. "I left that life behind a long time ago. And I'm content with that decision, Rorschach. Maybe..."

Looking as his glasses, Dan could barely find his voice to say the next part. Maybe because he didn't want to upset Rorschach. Or maybe, in reality... he just didn't believe what he was about to say.

"...Maybe the Keene act was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

 

[Byrd Man]

"Nite-Owl's been 'no more' for awhile, now,", Dan suggested, removing his glasses and rubbing the lenses on his dress shirt. "I left that life behind a long time ago. And I'm content with that decision, Rorschach. Maybe..."

Looking as his glasses, Dan could barely find his voice to say the next part. Maybe because he didn't want to upset Rorschach. Or maybe, in reality... he just didn't believe what he was about to say.

"...Maybe the Keene act was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The masked vigilante scoffs slightly as he stops pacing.

"Yes. You must be real happy. Putting on weight. Watching tv. Letting your tools and equipment collect dust. People are out there, Daniel. Wicked people. Crime and corruption haven't retired. You can make choice. Be a flabby failure. Or do something about the wickedness that plagues this world."

Rorschach walks over to a jar on Dan's kitchen counter. Removing the top, he pulls out a handful of sugar cubes and stuffs them in his pocket.

"The choice is yours, Daniel."

 

[Batman]

"Yes. You must be real happy. Putting on weight. Watching tv. Letting your tools and equipment collect dust. People are out there, Daniel. Wicked people. Crime and corruption haven't retired. You can make choice. Be a flabby failure. Or do something about the wickedness that plagues this world."

Rorschach walks over to a jar on Dan's kitchen counter. Removing the top, he pulls out a handful of sugar cubes and stuffs them in his pocket.

"The choice is yours, Daniel."

Even with the tension that Rorschach inspired, and the definite fear that Dan felt by being near him, that little speech was enough to ignite a momentary anger within him. Honestly, who the hell was Rorschach to insult his life? While he spent his nights safe and out of danger, Rorschach was pushing a law that had kept him just barely out of prison. He often clashed with the police, making him an even more undesirable presence. And the way he smelled, the way he kept his costume now? Dan wasn't even going to ask. It was almost like he was homeless.

"I did make that choice. And you want to know what I chose?", Dan asked, trying to sound angry, but coming off more as timid and weak. Just like Rorschach had just implied. "I chose not to go out and risk my ass on a nightly basis for people who don't even care anymore. This world is different from our glory days, Rorschach. Murder happens all the time. It's not right, but that's the way it is. I-I mean, honestly, when's the last time you saw a good headline in the news?"

Dan sighed to himself, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"I mean, Christ. It's like Comedian said, back in '85. We're living in a world where nothing like that even matters anymore. North Korea has missiles they could launch at any time, Iraq has plenty of reason to hate us, and now..."

Looking back up, Dan put his glasses back on, with a hint of dread slipping out of his voice. "Now, you're asking me to go out and hunt down some goddamn mob boss? I'm sorry, but... I'd rather spend the rest of my life enjoying it, at least. Not beating up on dangerous people just to have them beat back at me."

With a final sigh, Dan watched as Rorschach simply stared at him.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe Nite-Owl really is dead. I'm just not that guy anymore, Rorschach."

 

[Byrd Man]

Looking back up, Dan put his glasses back on, with a hint of dread slipping out of his voice. "Now, you're asking me to go out and hunt down some goddamn mob boss? I'm sorry, but... I'd rather spend the rest of my life enjoying it, at least. Not beating up on dangerous people just to have them beat back at me."

With a final sigh, Dan watched as Rorschach simply stared at him.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe Nite-Owl really is dead. I'm just not that guy anymore, Rorschach."

"Fine." Rorschach says as he pulls out a sugar cube, rolls up his mask and puts it in his mouth.

"Just thought to ask."

He rolls his mask back down and looks at his former partner.

"If you call empty shell of life 'enjoyment'. Nothing I can do about it."

Looking around, he starts to head towards the apartment's front door.

"I'll leave."

 

[Batman]

"If you call empty shell of life 'enjoyment'. Nothing I can do about it."

Looking around, he starts to head towards the apartment's front door.

"I'll leave."

Dan looked to the ground, immediately regretting what he had said. As much as he wanted to tell Rorschach off for the insults he had been making, Dan wasn't sure that what he was saying was necessarily wrong. Even with his glory days behind him, Dan couldn't remember a happier time in his life than when he was out on the streets, fighting alongside Rorschach, Jon, Laurie, Adrian Veidt, and everyone else. And when the Keene act had been passed, it was pretty hard for him to let go.

But he did. And he had to live with that decision.

Still, Dan didn't hesitate to speak up whenever Rorschach began heading for the door. It was bad enough that he had broken the lock, but to go out on the streets? This was a heavily patrolled neighborhood, and if anyone saw him...

"Wait,", Dan hesitantly said, standing up from leaning. "Look, if you're gonna leave, at least take the entrance downstairs. You're, um... gonna get noticed if you go walking around in the front..."

Before Rorschach had time to question what exactly that meant, Dan quickly moved to one of his closets on the other side of the kitchen, and opened it, switching on a lightswitch inside. But even with the bulb lit, the stairs that led down to a deep, dark room that was unseen below them were barely visible.

"I'll walk with you. There's not alot of light down there, and if you're gonna be taking the tunnel, I better make sure you find your way around."

Dan nervously smiled, as Rorschach wordlessly began to consider his suggestion. "Uh... after you, I guess."

 

[Byrd Man]

"Wait,", Dan hesitantly said, standing up from leaning. "Look, if you're gonna leave, at least take the entrance downstairs. You're, um... gonna get noticed if you go walking around in the front..."

Before Rorschach had time to question what exactly that meant, Dan quickly moved to one of his closets on the other side of the kitchen, and opened it, switching on a lightswitch inside. But even with the bulb lit, the stairs that led down to a deep, dark room that was unseen below them were barely visible.

"I'll walk with you. There's not alot of light down there, and if you're gonna be taking the tunnel, I better make sure you find your way around."

Dan nervously smiled, as Rorschach wordlessly began to consider his suggestion. "Uh... after you, I guess."

Rorschach leads the way as the two men walk down the stairs.

As they come to the end of the steps, their eyes adjust to the darkness and the objects in the room come into focus.

"Your equipment." Rorschac says as he walks up to a grappling gun hung up on the wall that looks very much like his own gun.

"I was right." He says as he runs a finger across the hadle.

"Dust."

Placing his hands back in his pockets, he starts to walk through the basement, staring at all the gadgets and gizmos.

 

[Batman]

"I was right." He says as he runs a finger across the handle.

"Dust."

Placing his hands back in his pockets, he starts to walk through the basement, staring at all the gadgets and gizmos.

Dan doesn't even notice Rorschach's comment about the dust, as he finds himself staring at the wall aswell. It had months, now, since he had thought to come down here. It used to be a force of habit, whenever Dan needed the memories of his glory years to keep him strong. But lately, especially now... all that was coming to him were the bad memories. Rorschach's slip of sanity. The Comedian, hammering away at those protestors. All of those people screaming for their lives, their fearful eyes staring back at him, as if he was the cause for their misery. The reality was, he wasn't... but to the public, he was guilty by association.

Damn the law that forced him to hang it up, he didn't do it for them. He did it for those people. The people that didn't want his help, anymore. The people that didn't need The Nite-Owl.

"Yeah,", Dan acknowledges, picking up one of his screecher units and staring at the intricate mechanics of the device. "I guess I haven't been down here in awhile. There's alot of memories with this junk. Good ones, bad ones..."

He placed the screecher down, as Rorschach stopped at the end of the line of gadgets, his eyes obviously darting over to what was hanging on a rack to the far right: The suit itself. The costume that Dan had wore many nights, and tinkered with for years to bring to absolute perfection. Rorschach was more than familiar with the outfit. But he was more impressed with it than Dan was. All Dan could see was the flaws, and a relic of a time long since gone.

"Finally sewed up those bullet holes you kept talking about from the '94 prison break,", Dan lightly chuckled, trying to keep the mood more positive than negative. "I guess, well... I guess I never really gave it the chance to get more of them."

Rorschach was silent. And Dan wasn't sure that he liked that. Fixing the collar of his shirt, idly trying to ignore the awkward tension, Dan looked around, seeing all of the old equipment scattered along the tables. So many unfinished projects, and many that had just begun...

"Listen, Rorschach...", Dan began, clearing his throat. "Despite what I said up there, I really do wish I could help you out. I'm sure you've got alot on your hands with this case, and if I had the time, well... I don't know."

Dan rubbed the back of his head, with a nervous smile. "I guess, in the end, I just don't want to get arrested. You understand, don't you?"