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Electric light orchestra (ELO) – Mr Blue Sky
Chapter 1 Brawls, balls and blue sky
Stepping from the blood soaked alleyway, a jumble of warped bodies left in his wake to continue decomposing into the city's shaky foundations, a man in a fedora hat popped his collar and grunted dismissively at the cold night air. Hands firmly trenched inside tough leather pockets, of a coat that had seen better days, the man born from the alley began a stride impossibly large for his short legs down the dimly lit street.
A number of the night's queens began their squalling catcalls, darting in and out of the safety of the lamplight, and surrounding the lone man in their dark and seedy shadows though never daring enough to initiate contact. He ignored their scantily clad bodies, seductive gestures and offers of pleasant hourly rated adventures. None of their world, their sex and lies, created the single most droplet of desire and curiosity. Instead it bred a mutinous contempt that swam through his veins and refuelled his internal batteries for the next mindless assault on the criminals and degenerates who prowled the streets in search of prey.
Finally reaching his destination, he whipped a hand from the safety of his pocket and applied more pressure than was probably necessary on the well-worn door of Happy Harry's, causing it to snap open with a dull thud.
"Rorschach!" The proprietor, Harry himself, shouted as if announcing to the bar in general to flee. "How can we help you tonight? Drink? It's on the house. Nuts? Yeah I'm sure you like nuts. Everybody loves nuts. Or maybe so-"
"Need information." The gravelly voice penetrated the air, causing the shaking man behind the bar to flutter his eyelids in almost a feint.
"Please," Harry lowered his voice as if talking to a cute but dangerous puppy, "don't kill them here."
Rorschach grunted in morbid amusement at the barmen's request as his eyes scoped the terrified orgy of drinkers attempting to scrunch their bodies inwards and bury their faces in pint sized glasses.
"There was a murder tonight." The vigilante continued, watching for signs of a future informant's discomfort. "Young woman. Norah Vanguard."
Nothing. Nobody flinched at his words, they only continued to shrink lower under the tables. Somebody knew something. He could sense it, taste the guilt in the air and see the horrors in the downcast eyes finding great deliberation in the golden hues of beverages. Somewhere to his right, Rorschach heard a deliberate sigh followed by the scraping of a chair and the subdued thud of heel to floor. He cocked his head neatly to watch the figure retreating to a jukebox against the far right wall, tugging a coin from faded workers jeans and placing it teasingly into the hungry machine's slot.
A moment passed as fingers danced thoughtfully over the glass case trying to decide on which chart topper to engulf the eerie silence created by the masked figure in the doorway.
Deciding to ignore the contemplating woman, an unusual sight at Happy Harry's, the vigilante continued his interrogation of the crowd.
"Stabbed eight times. Raped. Apartment robbed." Keen eyes continued to search the unwavering patrons as the clunk of the jukebox announced the lady's choice soon to begin. "Happened on 12th."
A nervous cough caught his attention as an overzealous repeating piano began the introduction to 'Mr Blue Sky' by Electric Light Orchestra. He turned his head sharply to watch the woman's shocked expression quickly find solace in a new direction out of his eye line. Watching her slender fingers tighten into a fist, before her body pivoted on the spot and directed her back to an empty chair, Rorschach began his advance.
Taking a sip of her beer, her eyebrows knotted in annoyance, as the vigilante paused to tower over. His menacing shadow drenched her in his presence as she dropped the empty vessel on the table and began to circle the glass's rim with a bored finger.
"Know something?" The rusty voice dared her to disagree.
"Know a lot of things." She complied, to his aggravation.
"Rorschach, please don't hurt my only female customer in years." Harry began to plead. "Why don't you take it out on Larry? I'm sure he knows about something dodgy."
"Hey!" The voice of Larry suddenly emerged before its owner could quiet it.
"Don't need information about whores and petty thefts tonight. Need information about Norah Vanguard." The vigilante growled, taking a swipe at the glass in front of the woman and sending it crashing against the bar. "What do you know?"
"Don't know nothi-" She was suddenly violently dragged up by her throat and left to dangle a few seconds in confusion before being tossed to the side like a ragdoll.
Her body hit a neighbouring table, causing it to flip over and land on top of her, patron's glasses smashing around her crumpled form. The smell of alcohol that now drenched her hair and clothes was enough to make her angry, but when she tasted the warm copper of blood trickling from her forehead, she became livid. Shooting up to stand, table now raised above her head, she hurled the piece of furniture at her masked assailant, catching him square in the chest and bowling him backwards.
A sudden cheer punctuated the bar, as criminals and patrons rejoiced at seeing their menace get what he normally dished out. The moment of jubilation was as quickly overturned as the table Rorschach was laying beneath and the patrons soon returned to slinking down into their chairs whilst keeping sly eyes on the brawl.
"Son of a bitch made me bleed!" The woman fumed as the vigilante pushed the table aside with a grunt.
"Should have answered." He dived forward, catching the woman's arm and spinning her around before colliding her head with another table. "Now I'll have to break some fingers to get information."
"I don't have any fucking information." The woman cursed as her vision blurred from the impact with the table.
"Soon find out."
He applied pressure with his elbow on the woman's back to halt her struggling, still gripping her captured wrist tight enough to bruise. As his free hand began to snake its way in-between her closed finger, ready to snap them back one at a time, he wasn't expecting the well placed kick to his shins followed sharply by another to the groin.
As the uncomfortable pain etched out of his mouth in a low grunt, the woman took advantage of the masked assailant's weakened state, and pushed herself up with enough force to slam the back of her head into his nose. Quickly pivoting on one foot to turn the tables on the grip he continued to exert on her right arm, she used the momentum to twist his clinging appendage from its socket before delivering a consecutive blow to his stomach.
Winded and damaged, Rorschach quickly reclaimed his senses and brought his knee up into the woman's chin, creating a splatter of blood to cascade against his mask from the impact of teeth to lip, followed sharply by a blow from his good arm knocking the woman onto the flat of her back across the table.
Groaning from the burning friction caused from the bare skin, now showing under her tangled vest, sliding along the table, and the bruise currently swelling into fiery life on her cheek, she hopped up onto her haunches and dived at the vigilante already in a defensive position but too damaged to prevent the inevitable force bowling him to the floor.
With his still working arm, he tried to block as many of the punches the angry woman dealt into his face whilst straddling him on the floor. For a moment he found himself in awe at the power behind those blows before managing to catch one of her wrists and fling her form over his head using her own violent momentum. Landing head first into the ground, the woman took a second to remember where she was as Rorschach began to mount himself onto shaky legs. She quickly followed suit, standing ready as he lunged for her, fist desperate to make contact with something soft and sensitive. But she crouched at the last minute, lodging a palm under his armpit and along his wrist, countering his weight forward and over the top of the bar.
Glass shattered around the vigilante and the soft cushion of Happy Harry he'd thankfully landed on, as the cursing voice of the woman bellowed something about just wanting a quiet drink.
"I'm going fucking home before any more of you bastards starts something." She fumed, straightening her vest and jacket before storming from the bar.
Groaning heavily, like an alcoholic suddenly realizing that it's morning, Rorschach lifted himself carefully from the debris, paying no mind to the sobbing mass of Harry curled in a foetal state on the shard covered floor. Hopping over the counter, ignoring the pain his arm threatened him with, the vigilante began his retreat home to make repairs.
Special thanks to Carnageincminor for Betaing.