Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
Noise is a constant. Organic, fabricated, rhythmic, chaotic. Steps on the stairs outside the door - stomping, running, shuffling, stumbling. Voices, all the time, at all hours. Shouting. Laughing. Crying. Cursing. Screaming. Fists and chairs and headboards against walls. Water groaning and knocking through pipes. Wind and rain and street noise seeping through windows and past open doors. Floorboards and walls popping and creaking with age and movement. Vermin scavenging. Radios. Record players. Doors.
His dreams, when he has them, are mercifully silent.
Here Comes the Rain
Rain cleanses nothing here. What it does do is wipe away the layers of prevarication that people insist on constructing. It brings out the truth of personalities, dissolving false courtesies and empty promises - the longer a person stands in rain, the more honest he will become. It does the same for the city, eliminating the garish colors and deceptive grays that gloss over flaws, distract from
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 0
Mature content
Remedy :iconfuguestate:FugueState 15 27
Mature content
Restitution :iconfuguestate:FugueState 26 35
Mature content
Mending, part IV :iconfuguestate:FugueState 10 21
Mature content
Method :iconfuguestate:FugueState 5 11
Captcha fic 6
- huskier to -
"Always. It feels like always."
The blood is slowing, but the coppery fear-taste is still burning the back of his throat and he can't stop pressing his fingers to the pulse at his partner's neck to make sure it's still there.
"I couldn't tell you. I didn't know if -"
They have close calls all the time. Just last week there was that katiehead with a gun... They risk their lives and think nothing of it, just concentrating on the takedown. They could have been killed any number of times by now.
"Can you hear me?"
He's fighting tears, and it makes him angry. They can't go to a hospital. All this work they do, all this work...
"I wasn't honest with you. With myself. I'm sorry."
Breaths flutter against his ear.
"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 0
Mature content
Midnight :iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 7
In the end, a warehouse had to be used.  A sports arena might have sufficed for so many people, or a concert hall, but those had long since gone and no large public venues had yet been reconstructed.  Any number of churches were suggested, of course, but aside from the overwhelming number of people to accomodate, there was the inevitable issue of associations with Norsefire that made such an avenue less than ideal.  Thus, a large section of an industrial park had been carefully converted for this event.
It was late at night and throngs of people filled the area, guided by volunteers.  It had snowed earlier, but now the sky was clear.  A half-moon shone down, and there was enough of a breeze to make one eager to be indoors.  Lights and signs showed the way toward one central building where a low hum of hushed voices and shuffling feet could be heard.  Within, people slowly and steadily settled into rows and waited.
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 13
Captcha fic 1
- birth minutia -
"What? What did I do?"
Daniel is following him down the stairs, past the Owlship, catches up with him in the tunnel.
"Please, Rorschach, I don't understand what's made you so upset?"
The distress is genuine; he can hear it. He stops, but does not turn around. Daniel is wise and does not touch him.
"Prying, Daniel. Multiple times now."
"Because I asked you where you're from?" Bewilderment now, layered on top of the distress. Either he truly doesn't understand or he is much better at lying than he seemed to be.
"And eye color. And family. And habits." It's obvious their partnership can't continue.
Wh-- Rorschach, that wasn't prying, I was just... trying to get to know you, just a little! You're my partner, we watch each other's backs - and hell, I like you! You're my friend, that's what friends do!"
A small sliver of doubt slips in and his step falters. Daniel's voice is still ringing true.
'That's what friends do'.
...He wouldn't know.
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 3
Captcha fic 4
- illness chides -
It's his own fault, and he knows it.
Dan caught the bug last week and Rorschach had still pushed him to patrol. Criminals don't care if you're sick. They won't slack off just because you're not feeling well. Dan had done his best, suppressing coughs and snuffles through stakeouts and breathing through his mouth when his nose got too stopped up.
It made him a little slower and frayed his temper to a point that he may have used more force than was his wont, but that was all right. The reek of menthol and the litter of kleenex on Archie's floor became just another testament to Nite Owl's dedication.
He wasn't sympathetic toward his partner through any of it, because that wasn't what Nite Owl needed. What he needed was to stay strong, to not let his guard down, and to know that his partner still had his back as they went out every night.
Now he suppresses yet another sneeze and is at least thankful his nose hasn't started running (yet). His throat alternates between burn
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 0
Vox Populi I

--a  trick? / Is he alive? / The news said he was dead, but then how--?
How many did he send? / How did he know I--? / Oh God, will they come for me? / Why me? / What do I do? /--said to stand with him at Parliament  / God,  I can't go there / Will he be there? / What will happen?
I'll get black-bagged / --black-bag me / They'll  kill me / They'll kill us / Like they did
Mrs. Brown
Uncle Stephen
our neighbors
that man
that woman
those people
(She didn't / He didn't / They didn't
even do anything)
Oh God, they'll
come for
take away
my family
my dad
my aunt
my mum
my baby
I can't do this / I can't have this here / I'm so afraid
I hate this /-- hate living like this /-- can't stand this / God I—
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 1
Turning Point, part 3
(Conclusion of "Turning Point")
The chimes of Big Ben sounded faintly from above, causing the Inspector to flinch slightly.  The odd shapes his life had taken on since he'd found these two had served to insulate him temporarily from events above, but this sound brought that world snapping back into focus all of a sudden.
He's still got sixteen hours. The words from a year and a lifetime ago came back to haunt him.  Now time was up.
He looked up and saw Miss Hammond's eyes flash for a moment at the sounding of midnight.
"It's time."  Quickly she rose and moved to the explosives-laden train.
"Wait!"  The word escaped Finch automatically and he reached out.
The young woman turned calmly.  "Are you going to stop me, Inspector?"
Everything was happening too fast, suddenly.  "—Just… tell me why."
"Because he was right."
"About what?"
"The world needs more than just a building right now.  It needs hope.
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 4
Captcha fic 7
- drive repealed -
Of course it was the little Roche girl who broke the stalemate. The police riots had been ugly, fueling the fire against vigilantes and getting the Keene Act pushed through Congress, but there had still been resistance here and there. Even the news media, who'd been all too eager to focus on the lawlessness caused by NYPD's absence, couldn't keep an entirely confident tone when they quoted Senator Keene's assurances that "America has spoken, and we are listening."
Her parents didn't want her to get involved. She was only eight years old, after all, and she still awoke screaming from nightmares. But once her school showed the Senate's PSA in her class, there was no stopping her.
Every day she could be seen on her street corner - A childish likeness of Rorschach dominated a posterboard sign that she brandished like a shield which proclaimed in large, careful block letters, "Bring him back."
People still remembered what happened. No one laughed, or tried to stop her - n
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 2 0
Mature content
Misunderstandings :iconfuguestate:FugueState 1 0
Captcha fic 2
- commuter Mr -
She sees them all, depending on the day.
Midnight to three there are the drunks who don't want to go home yet. The happy drunks are all right, but they don't often have much money left by then. The angry ones, the ones dumped by girlfriends or the losers of fights - they're the worst. She counts herself lucky if the marks fade quickly.
Two to six is when the truckers come by on their way to pick up or drop off whatever. Sometimes all they want is someone to talk to, a pathetic substitute for the wife left behind. Other times she feels like G-18 on some travel bingo card. Lots of them have speed, though, which is a nice bonus.
From seven to eleven she can maybe get some sleep. Or eat. Both, if she's feeling ambitious.
Lunch hour onward is busy. The white collars typically start things off, sneaking off for their "meetings" and "appointments". The blue collars come later, wanting a pick-me-up before going out with the guys, or back to the ball and chain at home. Then come
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 1 3
Vox Populi II
Everyone remembers that day:  The day the parcels came.  No one was expecting them and not everyone got one.  That's what made it so hard; not being able to talk about them because you could never tell who got one and who didn't.  Well, not at first.  Later, as time passed, that obstacle faded as The Fifth (capitalized by those who lived it) drew near.  The people who had received one of the mysterious parcels all had a different air about them – one of nervous expectation, of guilty defiance in unguarded moments.  Nothing was ever said, not out loud.  But there were subtle not-quite-glances between friends and strangers alike, a knowing.  Tension began coiling, day by day, growing tighter with each news broadcast, each headline, each reassurance that life was as it should be.  
As the days marched on, some people began casually mentioning dinner plans, or visits to friends,
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 1 7
Captcha fic 5
- new engulfed -
He can't breathe.  Can't convince his lungs to fill, or to release.  Air shudders in the in-between of his muscles' indecision, finally sobbing out of him in a rush while his fingers twitch in confusion, wanting to clench, wanting to latch onto something but (afraid) uncertain as to what, or where.
No one has ever...
Eyes hold him, pin him in place as he teeters on the edge of standing, falling, as his mind stutters to a halt at the simple, unexpected sensation of hands reaching past layers of (defenses) fabric to skate the gentlest of fingers down his sides.
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 1 0
Captcha fic 3
- the doorways -
"Geddown, kid!"  A shotgun blast comes from in front of him and the thug he hadn't seen behind him goes down when the rubber bullet takes him high in the chest.  He rolls, getting a brief glimpse of the Comedian's combat-cheerful face and dives to
gather up the impossibly small life into his arms even though his hands - the ones that can manipulate the tiniest circuits with ease - feel far too large and clumsy for something so fragile and he's scared half to death.  Laurie smiles up at him in exhausted triumph, and she's never looked so
crushingly dull, but this is what his father  wanted and he's good at it.  This bank was his father's legacy to him, and the best chance he'd have at a solid career for supporting a family someday, so he runs it now with the utmost
anxiety after hearing his friend's reaction.  He doesn't know anything at all about this character, and a comic book movie?  God, this cou
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 1 0
Mature content
Priorities, part 1 of 2 :iconfuguestate:FugueState 0 2
Mature content
Priorities, part 2 of 2 :iconfuguestate:FugueState 0 0
Mature content
If At First You Don't Succeed- :iconfuguestate:FugueState 0 0
Mundane Hazards
It was hard to tell which was worse: the glaring white-enameled chaos of the Emergency Room, or the fact that Rorschach had to be there. Or rather, Walter. It was Walter who got injured beyond a point he could work past as Rorschach – Walter who'd been unlucky enough to be standing in just the wrong place when a trainee lost control of a pallet full of fabric that crushed him against a wall. He supposed he was lucky one of the rolls fell in front of the jack's wheels and stopped it before it did more than crack his ribs – at least two, judging from the vivid sense-memories that were re-playing annoyingly in his head as he waited. Daniel was off ostensibly in search of coffee; he'd briefly tried keeping Rorschach distracted from his impatience, but he finally opted for just giving his partner space.
The entire factory floor had gone quiet when it happened, and his supervisor turned white as a sheet, he remembered. The trainee had been babbling something, but he'd been too bu
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 0 0
Captcha fic 8
- weined from -
The brownstone was ringing with curses, thunks and clatters in a path from the still-vibrating dresser drawers in the bedroom all the way down into the basement. Dan, well aware that anything he said at this moment would be met with sharp-tongued scorn or outright hostility, chose to maintain his strategic position half-hidden in the shadows of the study where he'd buried himself in a prospectus for a raptor facility upstate. He'd endured days of this already - they all had, really - and he was running out of ideas.
Walter briefly looked up when Laurie stormed down the stairs past Archie, his hand pausing in the notes he was taking as she kicked a box of spare parts out of her way.
"What?" She rounded on him, fists already clenching.
"Problem, Laurel?"
"Don't give me that fucking look - this is driving me nuts and you know it!"
"Was your own choice to-"
"I know, goddammit!" He actually blinked at her, but she was past noticing as she set the punching bag in her sights.
:iconfuguestate:FugueState 0 0


Killjoy97x Featured By Owner Nov 6, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Man, your gallery is simply stunning, I specially adore the drawings, you're a master at setting the atmosphere :o (Eek) 
Rockmantic2227 Featured By Owner May 27, 2012
I love your pictures about V.
I love V. he is Unique.
FugueState Featured By Owner May 27, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you! :)
wobblydaddy Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Oh my god your V pictures are making me melt into a puddle
FugueState Featured By Owner Feb 14, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Aw, thanks! :)
Deidara1fan Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
I love you 'V' pictures ^^
FugueState Featured By Owner Nov 24, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you! :aww:
Add a Comment: