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New York feels bigger in the dark, and maybe that’s why Laurie always felt like she could hide in it. Tonight though, the black of night shrouds the stars overhead but the streets themselves are lit bright, with fire and the searchlights from Nite Owl’s ridiculous UFO type thing.
She always hated it. Her mother thinks it’s charming, but her mother thought that unaltered silk and a being a half decent gymnast was enough to take on a gang of armed thugs.
Plot twist: She was the thug all along. It’s not a particularly inventive direction for the narrative to go, the newspapers have been saying it for years.
It reads different, sloppily painted on a home made sign and wielded by someone twice the size of her who has chosen to cover his face for the occasion. One thing Laurie has never done is hide her identity, her mother forbade it. You can’t fight crime if you don’t look your best and if you look your best then hell, don’t you want everyone to see you?
She grew up learning how to kick a man’s jaw in. Laurie Juspeczyk has never been scared.
“Where’s the Comedian?” She asks Nite Owl. Because he’s there and his ship is hovering overhead so she supposes he has to be the one in charge.
“No idea.” He replies. The goggles are supposed to shield his face but his exposed mouth is set in a worried line. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologise. Just wanted to be sure he wasn’t going to make this harder than it needs to be.” Laurie smirks ever so slightly. Gross. Nite Owl has got to be a decade older than her. She has better things to be doing.
And then there’s John. But who knows how long that’s going to last.
The crowd is angry but clearly not sure what to make of the ship hovering overhead. Even Laurie’s heard the rumours, talk of flame throwers and sounds shrill enough to shatter ear drums. She’s not sure she cares to know the truth, wanting to believe that Nite Owl at least isn’t like that.
Besides, if she really wants to know John will tell her. Down to the history of every last atom involved.
“What do we do?” She asks, and hates herself for sounding like a kid. But Nite Owl’s been out in these streets, seeing to this mess for longer than she has.
He shrugs and for a terrifying moment Laurie thinks he might be about to give up. “I…I haven’t thought this through.”
The flash of a well kept blade up front in the protesters. They can’t do nothing. “Well start thinking.”
“I should call Rorschach.”
“Rorschach?” Laurie wants to chew Nite Owl out, but he looks so sad that she lets him have it. “Come on. We have to deal with this now.”
Just her and Nite Owl on one side, defending their vigilantism, their whole way of life. And on the other side the citizens they purport to protect.
Well, they’re protecting something.
“Just you and me, yeah?” Laurie says, more confident than she feels.
“We could run.” Nite Owl counters, jerking his head up to indicate his ship.
“We could.” She agrees. “But we won’t.”
And maybe she’s not lying to herself. The protesters advance towards the two of them and they remain steadfast, guarding what’s left of their dying art.
Still unclear on the details of what makes it worth saving.