Who Watches the Watchmen?

An independent, highly selective, multi-muse RP blog featuring muses from Alan Moore's Watchmen graphic novel and the Before Watchmen spinoff series, the 2009 Watchmen motion picture, HBO's Watchmen series, and an OC based in a Watchmen Alternate Universe.  Written with love by Spooper. Please read all rules before interacting.

[quiscustodietipsos]

oscorpson​:

Harry had been proud of himself for coming up with this whole plan. Everything from his outfit right down to the candles. He hadn’t exactly ever thought himself a romantic kind of guy, but he supposed he learned one thing from Norman over the years. Go big or go home. Besides, he wanted to treat her with nice things and make her smile. She was very important to him. He loved her and, in his experience, love wasn’t always good enough to keep people close to him.

He grinned, guiding her to a stop. Letting go of her hand, he let his fingers guide along her arm as he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Leaning in, he nuzzled her shoulder, his lips brushing against her cheek before he stopped right by her ear. His voice was a whisper to her. “You look beautiful…”

Harry’s nerves were on fire. He could feel his heart about to hammer right out of his chest. He was conflicted with just staying here with her in his arms and his lips on hers, but he needed her to see what he left for her. He needed to succeed at this, at something, for once in his life. 

“Go look at the envelope. It’s for you. All of this is.” His voice was still a whisper at her ear. 

.

You look beautiful was exactly the kind of thing Grace would roll her eyes at if anyone else said it to her, but with Harry?  She felt like he really meant it, like the words actually meant something coming from him.  She loved the way he held her, too-- she was sorely tempted to just lean back into him and stay like that, but the last thing she wanted was to have her stomach growl while they were cuddling or something like that.

“What did I do to deserve all this,” she purred back at him, but reluctantly pulled away to make her way to the table, fingers drifting along the edge of it before settling on the envelope and picking it up.  It felt like a card...  She briefly wondered what the occasion was, but knowing Harry, there probably wasn’t one, and he had just wanted to get her a card to be sweet.

She opened the envelope carefully, not wanting to tear it, and pulled the card from inside.  The theme was apparent right away, and suddenly the candles and everything so far clicked for her-- a couple of months ago, she and Harry had gone to see The Phantom of the Opera on date night.  She had loved it, and he had clearly remembered.

“Harry, this is beautiful,” she told him, bending in to smell the bouquet of roses.  “Flowers...  Candlelight...  You’ve outdone yourself.”

[quiscustodietipsos]

Like a Moth to a Flame

//In which Byron has a hard time coping with the death of Dollar Bill.

Implied Mothman/Dollar Bill if you squint and kind of tilt your head to one side.

Trigger warnings: Death/dying. grief, alcohol abuse, self-loathing, chronic pain (referenced).

This has not been edited at all-- I basically vomited it out and I’m posting it now before I have a chance to decide it sucks and change my mind.  Enjoy!

One more drink, he told himself.  Once more drink, three more aspirin, and he would be able to sleep.

His hands shook as he poured the whiskey into the glass-- so much so that he nearly missed the container altogether, but managed to recover enough to pour himself a generous helping before tipping the pill bottle to spill three aspirin into his open palm.  Down the hatch they went, with a whiskey chaser as he downed the glass without pausing to breathe, his wiry body slumping back down into the wingback chair behind him as he stared at the fireplace.

If Bill were here, he would tell me to stop, he thought, and the sudden reminder caused tears to prick at his eyes, then begin to carve a path down his cheeks.  If Bill were here, a lot of things would be different, he thought bitterly.  But he's not, and I am.  Where the hell is the justice in that?

Byron had always assumed that if one of the Minutemen were going to die in costume, it would be him.  Being able to fly was an incredibly delicate thing; the suit could fail him any day, or he could misjudge the wind...  He knew well enough from the testing phase that this was dangerous; the pain in his back served as a constant reminder of that.  And if the suit didn't fail him, it wasn't at all unreasonable to imagine he would die getting the shit beat out of him by one of the crooks they dealt with on a nightly basis-- he was nowhere near as strong as any of the other guys on the team.  Hell, sometimes he wondered why they kept him around at all, considering he was pretty sure Sally and Ursula could hit harder than he could at this point.

But Bill...  How in the world had it been Bill? And of all the reasons why, because his cape got caught in a door? Was that really the fate the universe had in store for them all?  No blaze of glory, no living to a ripe old age and dying surrounded by your friends and family, just a spark and an embarrassingly short fizzle before the newspaper was crowding around to snap photos of your body so people could laugh at your misfortune?

A sob escaped his lips, the noise so sudden that it made him jump in his seat, shocking him back to reality.  There was that feeling again, that tightness in his chest, the sensation that he was sinking deeper and deeper into some dark hole...

One more drink, then.

He heaved himself upward with a sob that was equal parts grief and physical pain, staggering back to the small table and staring forlornly at the glass for a long moment before he decided to just grab the bottle, shuffling back to the chair with all the vigor of a man twice his age before he all but collapsed into it once again, raising the bottle to his lips to take a long swig as tear-filled eyes stared into the fire once again.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this, sitting, staring into the fire and drinking and thinking about Bill...  Bill wouldn't want him to, and yet his thoughts were drawn back to the other man over and over again, thinking of the last conversation they had, the last cab ride they had shared, his smile, his laugh...  He tried to drink the thoughts away, taking a swig from the bottle when Bill's voice echoed in his mind, another when he remembered the other's laugh, but the more he drank, the more the thoughts persisted, until he was sitting in his chair with an empty bottle in his hand, replaying snippets of conversation over and over while tears rolled down his cheeks.

The job they had all taken on was dangerous, but he was certain they couldn't quit now.  At least, he couldn't.  Something about the danger, about making a difference, about putting his own body, his own life on the line every single night, drew him in like a moth to a flame.

Bill had flown too close, and it was only a matter of time before he did the same.

[quiscustodietipsos]

oscorpson​:

@quiscustodietipsos​ plotted a thing - ATTN Grace

Harry had invited Grace over for dinner like any other weekend. Peter was out and they had the apartment to themselves. He’d planned this out for several weeks. Well, at least since Norman had pushed him to make an appearance at the charity masquerade ball. He’d started to fight it, but decided that maybe this was actually something that Grace might want to do. He’d agreed to go if he was allowed to bring a date, something that had piqued Norman’s curiosity, but he wasn’t about to spill the beans. 

He was finishing up lighting candles that lead to the table where he had placed a sealed envelope with a bouquet of big, beautiful red roses when he heard the knock at the door. He took a deep breath before he went to open the door, making sure the lights were out and all that could be seen were the dozens of flickering flames. 

“Hi…” He greeted her with a smile, gently taking her hand in his and guiding her into the apartment, closing the door behind them. 

Date night with Harry was a fairly routine occurrence by now, but that didn’t mean Grace didn’t get excited every time she caught a cab over to Harry’s apartment.  Tonight was no exception to that.  When she climbed out of the cab, she had to remind herself to pay the driver-- she was so eager to see Harry that she very nearly forgot about it-- and then she was headed up the stairs to his unit.

When she knocked on the door, there was only a brief wait before it swung open-- however, the room behind Harry was dark.  It was unusual, yes, but she could see candles flickering...  Since the power wasn’t out, she was fairly certain Harry had something up his sleeve.

“Hey,” she greeted, letting him take her hand and tug her inside.  “Candlelit dinner, huh?  Very nice...  If I had known it was going to be a fancy dinner, I would have dressed up a little more.”

[quiscustodietipsos]

oscorpson​:

@quiscustodietipsos​ sent:  ❝ we can stay up late and watch scary movies. ❞ -from Grace

Halloween Sentence Prompts - Still Accepting

Harry had just put the Jiffy Pop on the stove when he heard her. He glanced out the windows of the apartment, noting that the sun was only just beginning to go down. It definitely looked like Halloween out, that was for sure. 

Turning his attention back to the popcorn, he started to shake it and called back to her, a chuckle escaping him. “Are we having a date or a teenage slumber party?”

“Who says it can’t be both,” Grace countered, a playful smile turning the corners of her lips.  She had passed on helping her dad pass out candy this year to spend her Halloween night with Harry instead.  Of course, she had brought some candy-- how could you not have candy on Halloween-- but popcorn and cuddles on the couch with a movie on were really the stars of the show tonight.

“I mean...  I don’t have anywhere to be in the morning...  As long as your dad isn’t going to show up unannounced, you don’t have to worry about driving me home at 3 AM...  Unless you would rather I go home, that is.”  She wrapped the blanket she had commandeered from Harry’s bedroom a little closer around her shoulders as she spoke, only trying a little to hide behind it so Harry wouldn’t notice the flicker of doubt on her face.

She should be over this by now, and she knew it; there was no reason for her to still be worrying every time she saw Harry that it would be the last time, that he would decide that she wasn’t good enough or pretty enough or just enough in general.  She tried to downplay it as much as she could, and for the most part it worked well, but she couldn’t stop it from getting the best of her every once in a while.

[rpmemestbh]

Crying Starters

❝Are you crying in there?❞

❝Hey, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.❞

❝I can’t stop crying.❞

❝Tell me what’s wrong.❞

❝Just let it out…no need to hold it in.❞

❝Don’t cry, you’re gonna make me cry!❞

❝Stop crying.❞

❝You have every right to be upset.❞

❝Please don’t cry.❞

❝Why are you crying over something so stupid?❞

❝I didn’t realize this would make you so upset.❞

❝Leave me alone – I don’t like crying in front of people.❞

❝I’ve never seen you cry before.❞

❝I’m so sorry for your loss.❞

❝I can’t believe they’re gone.❞

❝Seriously? Get over it.❞

❝I’m sorry. I was just telling you how I feel.❞

❝Please leave me alone.❞

-incoherent sobbing-

[quiscustodietipsos]

writingxonthewall​:

Luke’s breath was coming out in panicked huffs. He’d never been this angry before. He’d been this close to finding his father, had followed a trail and was just about to find people who knew where Dan Dreiberg was. He’d thought it was almost over. And now… Those people were dead.

Luke closed the distance between them, losing all of his normally calm demeanor. In a flurry of rage, he acted on pure impulse and delivered a hard punch to the man’s face. He practically spat at the other. “Fuck your job! That means nothing to me! They knew where my father was. You took that from me, you asshole!” 

The punch left Wade reeling for a moment, catching him off guard.  Damn.  Kid hit hard.  He rolled his jaw in a slow circle, working through the pain for a moment.

“They didn’t know anything about where your father was,” he responded calmly.  “I didn’t spend all that time working in advertising before I joined the Force to be told that somebody half my age thinks he can read people better than I can.  None of the usual signs that they were lying were present when they said they didn’t know anything.  None.  If you want to get any useful information, you’re going to need to look a little higher up the totem pole.”

[quiscustodietipsos]

@fxckingjoke​ asked:

“Here’s to bad decisions and relaxed moral values.” - to Wade

Dream Daddy starters

Wade was fairly certain he recognized the other man...  He had watched American Hero Story, and while those were just actors, the resemblance here really was uncanny...  But something told him this wasn’t an actor.  That didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but honestly, since the events surrounding Judd Crawford’s death, not a lot of things did.

His head tilted ever-so-slightly to one side, expression unreadable beneath the reflectatine as he studied the other man intently.

“You’ll find a plethora of both around here, that’s for damned sure,” he responded.

[quiscustodietipsos]

@fxckingjoke​ asked:

“You need to lie back down, you’re barely conscious.” - To Grace

Angst, angst, angst

God, her head hurt so bad....  Actually, her entire body hurt, now that she was vaguely conscious enough to feel it...  All she remembered was being so upset, so hurt, so determined to get revenge...

Dad and Luke are dead.

That thought alone was enough to get her to lie back down, the very weight of it enough to completely crush her as any last bit of fight left in her body melted away.

“What happened,” she asked numbly, not even bothering to look at Eddie as she spoke.

[quiscustodietipsos]

@imnotacomicbookvillain​ asked:

“They’re gone. They’re gone, and there was nothing I could do.” - To Grace

Angsty starters

Grace stared at Adrian for a long moment, trying to piece together what was actually going on...  There was definitely something he was avoiding saying, and while she didn’t know exactly what it was, her heart was sinking as a sense of dread overtook her.

Luke was missing.  Grace had no idea where he had gone, which was odd enough, but he also wasn’t answering his phone, which was even odder, and worried her.  He never ignored calls or texts from her.  Adrian had come in, pale as a sheet, and so far, those two sentences were all she had managed to get out of him.

“Adrian?”  Her voice shook as she spoke, afraid to ask the question that was about to leave her lips.  “Adrian, who is gone?  What’s going on....  Where is Luke?”

[quiscustodietipsos]

@writingxonthewall​ asked:

“There’s nothing left here to save.” - To Wade from Zoe Baker

Angsty starters

Wade stared around at what remained of the house.  Parts of it were on fire, the air smelled of gunpowder and blood...

So much blood, blood everywhere, and the bodies, littering the ground with blood dripping from their eyes, their noses, their ears...

He pushed the memories away.  Now wasn’t the time for that.  He had other things to worry about, and no time to start panicking about a squid attack that wasn’t going to happen...

“That’s not true,” he told her, eyes meeting hers beneath the reflectatine.  “I can see one thing worth saving right now.”  He held a hand out to her.  “I can get you to safety... Someplace far enough away from here that you might be able to forget about it, if you try.”

[quiscustodietipsos]

@writingxonthewall​ asked:

“Did you think I was gonna stab you just now?” - To Grace from Evthan Winters

Dream Daddy starters

What the hell kind of question was that to ask someone?  Especially a stranger...

““Um, no....  Why would you want to stab me?”  This dude was weird.

[quiscustodietipsos]

“We gaze continually at the world and it grows dull in our perceptions. Yet seen from another’s vantage point, as if new, it may still take the breath away.”

An Indie Watchmen Multimuse, featuring canon muses from the graphic novel, film, and HBO series, as well as an original character.

Promo graphic by the wonderful anacommissions 

[quiscustodietipsos]

@writingxonthewall​ asked:

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE.” - To Wade from Luke

Dream Daddy starters

“What have I done?”  His blue eyes met Luke’s, filled with determination and a surprising amount of conviction.  “I’ve done my damn job, that’s what I’ve done.  Are you trying to tell me I shouldn’t do that?”`

[quiscustodietipsos]

@writingxonthewall​ asked:

“I am spinning a web of lies that I fear will one day consume me.” - From Luke to Grace

Dream Daddy starters

Grace stared at her brother for a long moment before she spoke. 

“...Ooooookay....  So...  What kind of mess did you get yourself into this time?  And what do you need me to do to bail you out?  Oh God, you didn’t tell Mom you wanted to come see her, did you?”

[quiscustodietipsos]

@oscorpson​ asked:

“Your face… is… good.” - to Grace

Dream Daddy starters

She couldn’t help but laugh.  Maybe she shouldn’t be laughing, since he was drunk, but she had to admit, it was kind of cute.

“You think so?”  She leaned in closer to him.  “Let me let you in on a little secret....  I think your face is pretty good too.”  She reached out with one finger to boop his nose as she spoke.  “But you’ve probably had enough to drink for now.  How about if we switch to water and maybe head to bed?”

[quiscustodietipsos]

@chokethelight​ asked:

“Here’s to bad decisions and relaxed moral values.” aaron lancaster @ Looking Glass

Dream Daddy starters

Wade perked a brow at the other, adjusting the fit of his baseball cap.

“That’s a little bit of an odd thing to celebrate, don’t you think,” he answered, but after a long moment he shrugged, tipping the rim of his beer glass toward the other.  “But I’ll drink to it anyway, I suppose...  Can’t pretend I haven’t made my fair share of bad decisions.”

[quiscustodietipsos]

@chokethelight​ asked:

“I’m so many levels of irony deep I’ve forgotten what humour is.” vince von'ar @ grace

Dream Daddy starters

Grace stared at the stranger for a long moment.  There was something...  Unsettling about him, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.  That sentence was an entire mood, though, she had to give him that.

“Sounds depressing,” she responded, still studying the other, trying to convince herself that he was, in fact, real, and whatever was putting her ill-at-ease was entirely in her mind.  “I appreciate a good sense of irony, but I don’t think I could handle quite that much.”