Looked at the sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever, and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion, bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else. Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague Metaphysical Forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not Fate that butchers them or Destiny that feeds them to the Dogs. Its us. Only us
Does that answer your questions, Doctor?
- Rorschach, Watchmen Chapter VI: The Abyss Gazes Also
Watchmen 4: Rorschach (aka Walter Kovacs...but really not lol)
In front is the ink blot test Dr. Malcolm shows him, and in back are falling papers from his diary and one from The Charlton Home.
Used: HB, and 6B pencils. His is the only without a color, because he sees everything in terms of black and white.
Dr. Mahattan: [link]
Silk Spectre: [link]
The Comedian: [link]