The Role of a Lifetime

An Independent Roleplaying Blog for Clayface, i.e. Matt Hagen, from Batman: the Animated Series. Based after episode 20-21 (Feat of Clay), this blog branches off from that point in the timeline. Clayface is considered dead except by Batman. Any questions or inquiries may be asked through the inbox.

[thefacesofclay]

Recruits & Comics

[youre-all-brain-puppets-deactiv]

She hadn’t needed to read his mind for that one. A few comments here and some body language there was enough to read for what it was. Finding some of the issues with the original Human Torch was a huge success for someone who quite liked the older comics, sure, but he’d really come in here to talk to her. That could either bode really well for her, or really really badly.

Oh well. At the very least, Madelyn could easily use a bit more adventure in her life. Her smirk spread into something a bit more impish. “Gee, I don’t know,” she teased coyly, twisting a piece of dark hair with her finger. “Are you sure I’m the best one to talk to about that? There’s kids in school who remember me doing all sorts of scary stuff.” Then again, there were also poor souls like Allie Langford and Thomas Kim. If she signed on for this, she’d probably be able to talk to Thomas about it, too. Type A honors students had to stick together, after all.

There were going to be people in the city who would consider Madelyn Spaulding one of the baddest of apples, but they didn’t get her full story. That old song and dance of I’m not bad; I’m just misunderstood was going to be used unironically in her case and she knew it. “I was more than a straight A student, Mr. Brice. I also happened to be a captain for our school’s Academic Quiz Bowl, part of the national honor society, a Girl Scout, and even a ballet student.” Then there was all that volunteer work she signed up for, as well as extra credit essays. She saw it all as a chance to get her name out there and impress potential colleges. Everyone else saw it as Madelyn being a pushy, bossy control freak.

“It’s like I told some former classmates of mine who remembered what I did. Everybody was really mean at my school and then, out of the blue, I suddenly had those cool powers. What did people expect me to do? Keep it to myself?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I found out later I could do more, but I’m more interested in using them to get my name out there and spread some change where change needs to be made.” She was still a very political girl, not to mention a very ambitious one.

That wicked gleam in her eye said as much. “I’ll have to give a two weeks’ notice to my Uncle Kyle,” she insisted, “but if you’re totally serious about this, yeah. I’d love to give it a go and get involved with something that’s actually going to move this city in a new direction.”

[thefacesofclay]

"Listen, Madelyn. I understand where your coming from when it comes to your powers, believe me I get it." She couldn't possibly guess just how much he understood her feelings on that one, "But this will go a lot smoother if we down play your willingness and cognitive abilities during your outbursts. I have medical experts that are willing to say under oath that you weren't aware or responsible for your actions during those flare ups."

"They can explain it away as inflammation of the brain triggered by the sudden and dramatic increase of cognitive ability. Now I know it's not ideal but if you can play along with the victim card it'll do well for both of us. Folks eat that stuff up, but people are going to be a lot more suspicious if you don't at least pretend to be sorry for the past. From one politician to another I'll let you in on that little secret, you've got to be able to fake it. Whether you care about the perceived problems or not you have to make them at least think you do. If you can make them think you are truly sorry, if you can sell the misunderstood card well enough all will be forgiven."

"That being said, I think you and I, working together could accomplish so very much. We could make this town a place people actually want to visit again, a city the residence are proud to live in. Together we can bring an end to the riots, rebuild the parts of this city that stand in ruins, and put an end to the gang violence and put kids back in school where they belong."

"I'm reaching for the stars but I can't get there alone, I need your help, I need you on my campaign staff. You've said so yourself, with your record you were on your way to a brilliant political career long before I came along, let's accelerate the process hm?" He said with a grin. He might have over exaggerated exactly how badly he needed her and yet at the same time it would take drastically longer to achieve his goals without her, while time wasn't truly a factor for him, he didn't have that kind of patience. There was no lie more dangerous than a half-truth.

[notyourdahl]

Guest Starring (A Past Acquaintance)

[notyourdahl]

The place was a bit of surprise. If not because it was so busy, but for the fact that their booth was so very private. The implication was there, and Mary was well aware of how it would look. And she was silly enough to start fantasizing. 

Mary smiled kindly to the waiter. She wasn’t about to act naughty in front of her adoring public. She hated when people only knew her as Baby Doll, but she swallowed down her anger. 

"A pleasure." She simpered. She hopped up into the booth.

[thefacesofclay]

The waiter was about to ask something else after Mary found her way into the booth but he locked eyes with Hagen briefly as the actor slipped into his seat across from Mary Dahl. The look said plenty and the man let his sentence trail off before growing silent. Even if Mary wouldn't say anything Matt could tell she hated this sort of treatment and this was exactly why he took her some place private.

He didn't know what she expected when she went out in public, she wanted so much to have a glamorous evening, but at the same time she'd have a total melt down if she ended exposed to fan after fan who talked to her like she was a little girl. 

"Ahem, what can I get you two to drink?" The waiter said, dropping whatever thought he had earlier. 

"I would like coke."

"And what will the little lady be having?" The waiter asked, making the fatal mistake of maintaining a gaze on Hagen as if he were to order on a child's behalf.

That was a position he really wished the man hadn't put him in, he was going to make this evening difficult, he could tell already. He immediately deflected the question, choosing to opt out of answering by looking expectantly to Mary for her own answer. 

[thefacesofclay]

Recruits & Comics

[youre-all-brain-puppets-deactiv]

“Yeah. I do too. A lot of the bright and brilliant characters in those worlds have to deal with so much crap and they don’t even get rewarded for it.” Just like real life, it felt like. There had been someone she liked at her school that wouldn’t give her the time of day, but that was ancient history. She never even fessed up and therefore that person never found out. Besides, Madelyn had moved on. “They aren’t even appreciated.”

Then again, it was very much the nature of the people she knew to be mean. But they were talking about a comic book character, not her. Madelyn accepted the man’s card, glancing over it. Andrew Brice. She felt like she’d heard that name, but couldn’t place where she had. She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Was this an ulterior thing, stepping in the store to see if we’d be okay with placing a campaign sign in the window?” She doubted it, but—

Ah. Art was imitating life. He had piqued her interest. “You came in here for more than the comics, alright. You wanted to talk to me, didn’t you?” They’d plastered her face all over the news. That wasn’t even a bitter tone in her voice. This honestly caught her attention, intriguing her. “I might could be persuaded…but why the interest in getting a Bang Baby? Most of the city looks at them like they’re loose cannons.”

[thefacesofclay]

"I've been found out." Andrew gave a playful grin, he was like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. There was no reason for him to deny it, he hadn't been found out doing something wicked or too terribly manipulative, he was just here for more than he initially let on. 

"I'm not interested in promotion, I'm interested in you." Well that sounded a bit more childcatcher than he initially intended, "It's because of the way many people look at meta-humans that I need someone who can prove them wrong. Someone that defies their misconceptions, when people think 'Bang Baby' they think about the Metabreed and the Roughnecks and so on and so forth."

"They are the few bad apples that bring everyone down as a whole. However it's my understanding that you were a straight A student with a passion for politics and reform before you became a 'Bang Baby.' Given that the powers you developed were psychic in nature there is no telling what you were dealing with when they began to manifest, I would argue that in that state you could not be held responsible for your actions. But now that you have your abilities under control you've not had anymore episodes like that, and you won't happen again, right?"

Andrew didn't really believe that was the way things transpired, but that would be the way he and his staff of medical experts would present it when the populace or his competitors challenged him. So long as Madelyn was willing to play along with that no one could really argue the contrary.

"So what do you say?" Brice grinned as he leaned against the counter slightly, "I think you could be an invaluable member of my staff, and I promise the pay will be far better than what you make here."

[thefacesofclay]

Recruits & Comics

[youre-all-brain-puppets-deactiv]

She honestly hadn’t had an opportunity to read any of the stories with Jim Hammond in them, but whenever an older fan started talking about a character or a series Madelyn didn’t know, she’d want to look it up once she got home and see what was available online. For some people, reading on the computer screen could be an eyesore, but it didn’t bother her eyes yet. Such was a perk of being that young.

Sometimes, the writers stumbled onto something good and it didn’t reach the readers. Other times, it would stick and the characters would live to see another day—or decade. So why on earth did you have the dime-a-dozen gritty antihero comics all over the place when characters with so much potential get canned? She could think about it all day.

“I guess to be fair, sometimes art imitates life. People with superpowers out here get it kind of bad.” She’d know firsthand. Static had wiped the walls with her twice and she’d gone through an awful lot. Sure, the people in Ebon’s posse (the Meta-Breed) seemed to get the brunt of it, but not every Bang Baby out there was a hardened criminal. Madelyn was more of an instance of somebody who felt unappreciated and decided to use her powers for personal gain as soon as she got them. What teenage girl on the planet wouldn’t do something like that?

 There weren’t any other people in the store right now, aside from Uncle Kyle in the back room. “You’re a politician? I attempted running for president of freshman class before. It got kind of heated around the end.” And by kind of heated, naturally, she meant she’d turned the entire neighborhood into a bunch of drooling, mind-controlled idiots.

Then again, considering most of the kids she’d gone to school with at Dakota Union High, it wasn’t even that much of a change.

[thefacesofclay]

While the brain puppets themselves had no memory of the election fiasco there was no forgetting her second uproar in which she freed the Meta-breed and hurled cars down the street, ripped piping out of the ground and overturned city monuments. She even managed to knock Ebon down a peg and given what everyone around town thought about that guy, that was a big deal. 

"That's a fair point." He muttered in response to the idea that it was art imitating art, "Still, I detest that sort of thing in comics and even more so in real life."

Andrew pulled out his business card, offering it to Madelyn, "I am and I'm planning to run for Mayor. I will build a future that's more like the world of the Human Torch and less like the world of those other comics."

"To that end I've already expanded the Community Center that's already helped several meta-humans adjust and I'm even looking for a 'bang-baby' or two that might be willing to join my campaign staff...sadly no luck on that last bit though." If only he could find a meta-human that was fascinated with politics, maybe one that was a known over achiever...

[gothamcitycitizens-deactivated2]

Reblog this post and follow Gotham City Citizens to be added to our masterlist.

[thefacesofclay]

Recruits & Comics

[youre-all-brain-puppets-deactiv]

She was part of the Internet generation: being able to locate nearly anything she wanted with just a good Google search and a bit of smooth talking on eBay. Madelyn had a whole collection of something she’d sooner die than share with any of her same-aged peers. In another ten years or so, no one would give her much flak for collecting Care Bears, but teenagers could be a rather mean group and she wasn’t well-liked. “I collect Strange Tales whenever I can find those,” but those were dated back to the Great Depression and were discontinued in the 1950s for being too graphic for children. “So I feel you, sir. At least I think I do.”

It wasn’t the same, but her uncle had a fondness for the old stuff and didn’t have any kids of his own. His brother only had Madelyn, so Uncle Kyle was almost like a third parent. That meant she got to read some of the really old Wonder Woman stories and stuff like that. He’d even gotten her a Wonder Woman lunchbox she’d taken to school since Kindergarten.

“They get recycled for spare parts and nothing but the cash cows get to float belly up for more issues,” Madelyn concurred. “Sometimes you’ll find something neat and new, but it’s like the writers focus more on what will sell and less on how to build a dynamic character.” There was a guy in here just the other day talking about the rogues gallery for one of the more popular comics and how a certain woman who got reintroduced in the reboot was the first woman in the comic. It wasn’t correct at all.

“But it isn’t enough to like a character because they’re under-appreciated and obscure, is it? Something about Hammond caught your attention before that, I’m sure.”

It was a slow afternoon and she felt chatty.

[thefacesofclay]

"You are right. That's not the primary reason, if anything it's just a level of tragedy that makes me feel for the character all the more. Hammond is the first true super hero in his timeline, some of the oldest super humans in the series are held up and compared to him when they first arrive on the scene. He's the original. Not only that but he's not even flesh and blood."

"Later comic series from the same franchise get so bogged down with treating super heroes like they are freaks or lesser people just because they are slightly different, I like the good old days when a robot in human skin can get the same rights and treatment, and respect as everyone else, because we're all people in the end. I like that he calls himself the human torch, it's symbolic, even though he's an android, in his mind, and in mine, he's still human."

"He feels, needs, wants, hurts, loves, and hates just like the rest of us, and everyone around him recognizes that and treats him like a human. For the most part they all agree that everyone deserves a fair chance. I hate when modern day comics about golden age heroes get existential or become bogged down in politics...which is kind of ironic really." he said with a bit of a chuckle.

"You would think a politician would like that sort of thing."

[thefacesofclay]

Recruits & Comics

[youre-all-brain-puppets-deactiv]

Bernie called in to say he wouldn’t be at work today, insisting he had the flu. Mr. Spaulding, owner of Off Your Rocket Comics, seemed to believe the story but his niece, Madelyn, thought otherwise. She had chewed Bernie out in front of his friends the other day for harassing female patrons to the store, acting like comic books were intended strictly for a male audience. Then again, what did that loser know about comics, anyway? He praised every little thing about the New 82 and she could strangle him.

She’d done something different. Last night, Bernie poured mouthwash, sour cream, and cinnamon into his root beer float for no particular reason. He also dared to eat the nastiest, hairiest, smelliest rancid leftovers in the back of his fridge. No one knew why, aside from Madelyn, and she hoped it gave him food poisoning or worse. Maybe his pigheaded pals would stay out of the damn store today so she could actually do her job.

Madelyn was in the process of rearranging comics that had been misplaced in the store. Most of the patrons were somewhere between middle school and grad school, oftentimes wearing jeans and t-shirts. They rarely saw any snazzy dressers, period. Even Edwin Alva’s son came in here in cargo pants and tennis shoes if anyone ever saw him at all.

Somebody made an absolute mess of the entire Vertigo section, meaning she had to start all over again with filing. Great. Just great. At least there weren’t any—oh hello. Every last thing about the guy entering the store screamed East Coast, but that was hardly a bad thing. Madelyn’s dark green eyes moved to wander as she proceeded to put the Sandman comics in chronological order. That, she didn’t have to focus her attention on. New patrons at the store, she did.

He looked like he knew what he was looking for, but he hadn’t been in the store before—to her knowledge, anyway. Something caught his eye, at least. Once Madelyn noticed the gentleman was making his way toward the checkout counter, she proceeded to do the same. “If you didn’t find what you were looking for, we can place special orders.” They had to do that for a couple of people who collected the Silver Age Soul Power comics.

[thefacesofclay]

"This will be fine for now." He said with a smile, going on to admit, "I've never properly done research on it you know. I know these days you can look on the internet and see how many issues and appearances a character has but I've found it far more personal to look through the comics by hand and have that wonderful moment where you to, 'wait, I don't have this one, I've never even seen this one before.' It takes me back to the old days you know?"

She probably didn't understand what he meant. Not because she was a girl, but because of the age gap. It was a different experience, the first time he had picked up a comic and thumbed through its pages had been going on thirty years ago or more. While she had experienced similar feelings no doubt, she was only seventeen, it just wasn't the same, there was no appropriate way to explain it.

"Of course, I think what draws me to Hammond most of all is the true lack of appreciation the man gets. He's all but forgotten in this day and age, not just forgotten, but worse still, replaced by that creep from the fantastic four." another comic he didn't really care for due to many reasons, "That does seem to be the treatment the true greats get, isn't it?"

[thefacesofclay]

Daggett's Murder Face

Germs: On second though, sick people aren't that scary.

[notyourdahl]

Guest Starring (A Past Acquaintance)

[thefacesofclay]

notyourdahl:

That didn’t sound glamorous at all. It sounded like he didn’t want to be seen with her. No…on second thought, it sounded as if he simply wanted privacy. They’d be mobbed if they were in public and then they wouldn’t be able to talk. That, and if they went out in public, Mary’s manager would be on her case again. She might even have to move back with her parents if she didn’t behave.

The studio hated the idea of Mary being seen as anything other than Baby Doll by the outside world. It happened ,of course, and everyone knew she was actually an adult, but the studio did not like her to parade the fact around. 

The child-like blonde nodded her agreement. “Sounds good.” It certainly wasn’t the glamorous evening she expected, but she could deal with it as long as she was actually going out with an actor of Matt Hagan’s caliber.

Hagen knew that Mary wanted more of a big, Hollywood style adventure where she got to go out and act like the glamorous star she was and meet other famous people and rub elbows with all the big names she could and just make a day of it. Yet it just wasn't something Hagen could deliver for her on such short notice.

It was still early in the day and there wasn't anything big going on today that he was aware of, maybe if later in the month there was a big celebrity meet up he could swing by when she wasn't filming and take her to make up for the disappointingly humble meal they would have today. 

She didn't show it in her response but he could feel her disappointment. She hid it well enough, she was an actor after all but he knew the truth, she was put off by his choice and in truth, that irritated him to no end. It actually made him a little agitated but he understood why she felt as she did. Much like her he was able to choke it down and keep up his pleasant and welcoming demeanor. The small things could send Hagen off the handle but he kept a grip on things and by the time they arrived at the cafe it was all but forgotten. 

Just like before he walked around the car and made sure to open the door for her and escorted her around the side of the cafe. She could see the place was larger and busier than he initially let on and there was a line of guests leading out the front door that they would be bypassing as he knocked on the kitchen door and shook hands with the man that opened it, palming a bill into the other man's hand in the process. 

The man thanked Matt profusely as he lead the duo through the kitchen to a booth in the back of the smoking section where the lights were dimmer and people were far more scarce. The scene was a lot more romantic in appearance than Hagen had intended for it to be, which was actually a touch concerning to him, but he would table that thought for now, as he was too distracted by the look his friend kept giving Mary.

"I'm sorry, but aren't you-oh my god-you are, You are baby Doll! Matt you never said you knew Baby Doll!" He gushed. 

"We met earlier today, figured we'd grab a bite to eat." he said, flashing a smile over to Mary, "Looks like our waiter is a member of your adoring public." 

[thefacesofclay]

Recruits & Comics

Gothamite, Andrew Brice stood at six feet in height and had salt and pepper hair that he kept short, and well combed. His face had sharp, angular features. He liked to keep his face clean shaven at all times, he felt it gave him a more professional air opposed to the shaggy and disheveled look stubble could give a man. His bright green eyes popped and had a way of drawing in those he talked to. Today he wore a dark blue business suit and matching blazer. His undershirt was black as were his shoes, and his tie was stark white.

The man and his black Cadillac coupe arrived in Dakota City a few weeks ago and immediately Andrew made it clear that he wasn’t visiting. The man bought a rundown apartment complex on the rough side of town and had already poured thousands of dollars into its repair to see that it would once again be fit for habitation. While repairs wouldn’t be complete anytime soon the man saw fit to purchase a more permanent address for himself though he’d spent very little time in it as he appeared to be more interested in keeping the roads hot.

He was constantly driving around town, seeing for himself what was going on in Dakota city. He was meeting people, shaking hands, and investing in the city; first the Apartments on 8th Street, then the Community Center. It wouldn’t be long before everyone figured out what the philanthropist was up to and some were already expecting to see his name on ballets next election.

Today however, Mr. Brice did not have anything quite that serious planned. Today he parked his Cadillac outside a quaint little comic book store in town and put a few coins in the parking meter before he wandered in. Most of the people in the comic store didn’t recognize him which wasn’t a bad thing, he was still a new face in town, but that would change. In time he hoped to be a house hold name, everyone would know who Andrew Brice was and if he played his cards right at least 51% of them would think favorably of him.

But he was not here in search of constituents, no what Andrew was looking for was much, much harder to come by. He flipped through the shelves of comics with general disinterest for most of them, it was clear he was a man who knew what he was looking for. A glint of hope flickered in those green eyes of his as he saw the edge of a half covered comic, but as he unveiled it, disappointment. Ten minutes ticked by and then ten more, after searching for thirty minutes the man had not one but two comics to show for his troubles.

Brice adjusted his tie with one hand as he held the comics tenderly in his other. The smug expression on his face as he approached the checkout counter made it evident he was quite proud of himself for finding his prize.

He placed both comics on the counter, they weren’t from the same series or anthology and there appeared to be about a decade between the printing of the second from the first, at a simple glance most people wouldn’t catch the connection between the two but anyone who worked at the store would catch on easily enough. Both comics featured a super hero that had almost been forgotten by time; Jim Hammond, the true human torch.

Not only was Jim Hammond the first to hold the title of human torch, the android having all the same powers in greater magnitude than Johnny Storm, but he was also regarded as one of the very first ‘super’ heroes of the Marvel Universe. There would have never been a Namore or a Captain America if there hadn’t been a Jim Hammond first. 

[thefacesofclay]

electrokenetic-superhero:

"Same here." Static nodded, standing as well. He reached into his coat and tossed his disc out next to him, making sure it was magnetized properly before stepping on. "But yeah, better get back on patrol. Never know when someone’s gonna pull somethin’."

Brice watched as he threw out the unfolding metal disc and hoped up onto the hovering electric plate. He was certainly a crafty one. He smiled as he watched the younger man prepare to fly off, giving him a wave goodbye to send him off. 

"I'll let you get back to it then. Thanks again for taking the time to talk, and you know, dedicating so much of your free time to keeping the people of this city safe." Maybe he should have said that one first, "Take care of yourself Static."

[notyourdahl]

Guest Starring (A Past Acquaintance)

[notyourdahl]

Mary smiled as he opened the door for her, she enjoyed little things like that, being treated like she was a real lady, instead of seen as some kid just playing dress up. She thanked him as she plopped herself into the car and got comfortable. She had chosen a dress in a fashionable cut that had been made specially for her. The fabric was a soft pink (despite her want for more adult clothing she couldn’t get away from those babyish colors). 

"Hmmm? Oh any old place, preferably somewhere far from this." She waved at the studio. Mary determined to get away from the cast, the directors, and her baby life for a little while at least. 

"If I could drink, legally, I’d suggest a bar, but I’m not 21 yet." And she’d never look 21 regardless. "I think we said something about dinner, but it is a little early." Just barely 4 now. "Certainly you know a couple of nice hot spots, Mr. Hagan?" She asked coyly. 

[thefacesofclay]

Matt shut the door for her before making his way over to his own door, unlocking it before slipping inside and shutting it behind him. He started up the engine before he bothered to take the time to fasten his own seat belt. All the while pondering the question as to where to go. While he didn't have any qualms about the legality of under aged drinking it was pretty early in the day and honestly, getting an 18 year old girl wasted hardly qualified as a classy date. 

After some consideration he grinned looking back to her, "As a matter of fact I do. I know a great little cafe on the south side of town that's got great food. I know a guy who works there who can get us a private booth in the back somewhere and he'd even be willing to let us cut through the kitchen to get in."

Yeah there wasn't anything glamorous about sneaking into a restaurant via the back door but it was a preferred trick among the stars to get in without making too big of a scene. Combine that with a private booth where other people wouldn't be going too often, they might actually be able to have a meal in peace without constant interruption from people wanting autographs or photos. 

"They've got a great club sandwich too, one of the last family owned places on the south side" Some corporate goon seemed to buying up all the property on that side of town, but that guy certainly wasn't any concern of his and never would be. 

[the-grease-painted-lady]

✺

"Enjoy having my makeup embedded in your weird Play-Dough flesh forever.”  The Joker blinked, shuddered.  "Ugh, you didn’t absorb my DNA or anything, right?  Give it back!”

[the-grease-painted-lady]

That.  That right there with the immediate shifting and reshaping of the body into whatever weapon or tool was required at the time.  It had her hooked.  The Joker’s steps immediately stopped and she turned, settling down on the floor to be more comfortable watching the show.

The clown couldn’t say it was exactly how she would have gone about things if she were able to morph her body into anything - her way would involve more knives, assuming it was possible to make blades out of the clay - but it was enrapturing.  The man had an art to it.

And while his art wasn’t sadistic enough to resemble the things in her own gallery, it was still creative.  The clown grinned, watching the terror play across Dagget’s face and loving every second of it.

[thefacesofclay]

Clayface was no murderer he didn’t have the cold heart for it or the sadistic nature and maybe that was why this was so exciting. There was just something so very personal about what was about to transpire here. Daggett took advantage of Hagen at his weakest, and used him like a puppet, when he was done, he thought he could just throw him away, but that plan had not worked quite the way he had hoped. While Matt Hagen died, this new creature, this Clayface had emerged from his remains carrying the banner that was Hagen’s vendetta.

“Hear that Daggett?!” he cried out at a distance, as he slowly began to close the gap, “Hear that silence? That’s your epitaph. Nobody’s coming to save you, no more goons, no men, no cops, and no bat. No one’ll cry at your funeral. Your death will be celebrated all across Gotham…”

His arm started to shrink back to normal length, dragging Roland across the floor before throwing him down hard. He groaned in agony as his side slammed against the concrete floor, the force made the man thing for sure his ribs were broken. He slowly struggled to get back to his feet but his knees buckled and just as he started to fall forward Clayface cupped his palm over Roland’s mouth gripping his jaw tightly using the handle to keep the man upright as he continued to whimper like some dying animal.

“You know. I’ve put a lot of thought into this moment, some nights it’s the only thing that kept me going. The question that I asked myself most of all was how! One million possibilities, ranging from suffocation to crushing your skull like a grape.” He gave the man’s head a squeeze for emphasis that sent Roland writhing in fear, desperate to get away but in the moment he tried to pull away the fingers to the hand grew long and tendril like, interlocking back behind Roland’s head and fusing together to leave the man locked into the apparatus that expanded to cover both mouth and nose, and once again his upper arm began to ripple forward like a liquid, pouring down until it crashed against the lower half of the man’s face until he instinctively opened his mouth for air, only to inhale the ooze that rushed down his throat with a malicious fervor.

“As much as I wanted to hear you beg, I knew that’d get old fast and-“ He paused when Roland gripped his wrist trying to pry it away from his mouth, letting out muffled gurgles and shrieks, his hands had no nails left to dig in with and the liquid like material slipped through his fingers, there was simply nothing solid for him to grab hold of, it was a fruitless attempt that only served to interrupt the man, “-and it already has. So I decided to enlighten you in your last moments. Show you what fate befell the deceased Matt Hagen, you remember him right? This use to be his face…”

The question was lost on Roland; he couldn’t hear a word of it over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. Clay filled Roland’s lungs, choking him, drowning him, his eyes rolling back as he felt death reaching out to take hold of him, and that’s when Clayface let him go. Daggett collapsed to the floor coughing, gagging, his body desperately trying to expel what was forced into him, but his heaves were dry, and nothing came out. The drool and spittle that ran from his mouth and nose came down in thick ropy cords of flesh colored material that puddle on the floor, where it spiraled upward from there, and maintained its connection to the arm from which it came.

“The burning sensation of suffocation, agonizing ain’t it? But it’s nothing compared to what followed, Matt Hagen’s body was torn apart, every cell, every molecule that made him human, ripped apart from the inside out…”

The narration was hardly needed; both the Joker and Daggett got a firsthand demonstration of what Clayface believed to be an appropriately reenactment of what Matt Hagen felt in his last moments. Roland’s shirt started to move and shift as if something was pushing on it from the other side, squirming just beneath the skin, and that’s when a large metal blade tore its way out of his chest from within, his white shirt turning crimson in a rapidly expanding circle around the steel blade. Then another jutted out of his right side, just below the rips, another tore up out of his left collar bone. One after another blades of different sizes and shapes began to burrow their way out of Dagget’s core. Clayface seemed to be purposefully trying to avoid his heart, in the hopes that the man would live through the entire ordeal but the Joker was more experienced with this, she knew better.

Around the time the third blade ripped through Roland he went into shock and lost consciousness, the pain was simply too much for the man, it was unlikely he felt much more after that. Even with care to avoid major arteries and the heart, his lungs were utterly destroyed and the many other organs that were undoubted pierced from underneath the surface served as homes to clusters of nerves and had major arteries of their own that ensured they got their fair share of blood, and severing those lines meant that whatever blood formed outside the body was nothing compared to the massive internal bleeding that was going on inside his chest cavity right now. If Daggett lived another thirty seconds after he lost consciousness it would have been against all odds and the prospect was certainly a long shot, of course mentioning such a thing to Clayface would run the risk of ruining his fun, and the man did seem to be enjoying himself.

Brutal puncture wounds followed by wicked lacerations across the body as some of the blades turned, shifted in him as the source of the blades twisted and turned as if trying to squirm its way out of him. Slowly the massive grin on Clayface’s scalded, mutilated face faded and turned into disgust as he came to realize that for several minutes now he’d been torturing a dead man. At this point it wasn’t torture, he was simply butchering a corpse, and there was no telling how long that had been the case, which was damn disappointing really.

With a frown he let the body fall to the floor and the blades started to melt, changing their composition from steel back to that fleshy slime that dripped and oozed from every wound in place of the blood that had done the same not too long ago. The part of Clayface that had been in the unfortunate sole pooled on the floor slowly but steadily dissociating itself from the blood it’d intermingled with. Then it slowly began to recede, like water flowing in reverse, up a waterfall or back into the facet, the pool on the floor, still connected by dripping, drooling strands that poured off from the arm began to run in the opposing direction, recollecting in the arm before it was once again just a normal arm and hand.

Clayface flexed his hand as he looked it over then back to the lacerated remains that were hardly distinguishable as a man anymore. He wasn’t smiling anymore, he seemed unimpressed, as if he expected some weight to be lifted off his shoulders now that the man was dead, but nothing changed, Daggett was dead and a few moments ago he wasn’t, really nothing else was different, he wasn’t sure what to expect but after a staring at the corpse silently in thought he felt it…relief. It was finally over, at long last he’d had his revenge, and maybe it didn’t change anything in the long run, but it was…therapeutic.

Clayface actually twitched when he caught sight of the Joker again, so absorbed in his work he seemed to have forgotten she was even there. It caused him to jump like he’d been caught in the act, but when he realized it was just her; he relaxed, and in relaxing his whole body shifted back into the lumbering only semi-humanoid amorphous mass that was his true appearance now. He gave a saw toothed grin as he looked over to her.

“You know…my only regret is that he died too soon. I guess the human body can’t take as much punishment as I remember.” His memories of that of course being how things went in movies which as he’d just demonstrated gave the impression that people were drastically more durable than they really were, and that they bled a lot more. 

[electrokenetic-superhero]

"I’m looking forward to it." Static said honestly. "I really hope that this works out." It was a great opportunity and more people needed to see that not everyone went the superhero or metahuman anarchist route that he and his enemies took.

Dule was about the only name he could give out, unfortunately. Allie and Derek had been Static’s cases, not the Center’s, and Thomas didn’t need any more grief than he already got after his little hulk out.

[thefacesofclay]

"As am I! I expect good things, nothing but good things from this endeavor of ours." He pushed his seat back before standing up, "Well I imagine you've got more important things to do than chew gum with me all day, so I figure I'll let you get back to it. But I'll be in touch. I am glad we had a chance to meet, it's been a real pleasure."

[thefacesofclay]

electrokenetic-superhero:

Static grinned, that was great news! That was just what the Center needed, the last time they’d gotten funding was the new Gymnasium. Which he was pretty sure had been a stunt by Alva to cover up the political debacle he found himself in after the Big Bang.

"They’ve already got a ton of work study and volunteer opportunities. It’s a nice place to hang out that doesn’t usually get trouble. I know that a sports player, Dule Jones, got counseling there and turned around his life after the Big Bang." Course he wasn’t about to mention that it was all thanks to his sister, but that was besides the point.

"Dule Jones. I'll remember that." He said, mentally cataloging the name. When discussing the Community Center he'd need to be able to present proof that it was helping people, that it had already helped some kids before anyone would be willing to invest in it further. It was silly, but it was just one of many steps to the process. 

"I'll see that the Community Center gets the funding it needs, but that's just the start, the first of many changes." 

[electrokenetic-superhero]

Static laughed at that. “Oh for sure. I hear more then enough of guys like that already. My girlfriend’s on the school paper, she just loves it when motivation speakers drop in.” Frida and Daisy were always looking for a new story, but he wasn’t about to pull a spiderman and offer them an interview, they’d see right through him!

"You know, a good place to look at for setting up Outreach programs is the local Community Center. It’s one of the big social hubs for teens in the area." He blurted out, knowing that his Pops, as both a social worker and the manager, would be more than open to the idea.

[thefacesofclay]

Now that's the kind of information that Andrew was looking for from Static. The Community Center was actually getting used by teens in the area. That was good to know, unfortunately in a lot of places that wasn't the case. But this gave him a place to start a groundwork upon which to work with. 

"That's an excellent idea. If the Community Center is actually reaching some of these kids then it could certainly use a booster shot. More funding, more equipment, and more programs sound like a good start for sure."

[electrokenetic-superhero]

Static nodded, chuckling himself. “Well that puts my mind at ease, so long as you can’t read it.” The joke slipped out without much thought. 

"Alva, It’s always him." He shook his head. "That guy never ceases to cause trouble does he?" Static had tried to expose Alva Industries for creating the mutagenic gas once. But the proof had gotten destroyed in his first major fight with Hotstreak.

[thefacesofclay]

"If I could read minds I think I'd make a living out of playing cards before I tried my hand at politics." He let out a boisterous laugh at that, finding it genuinely hilarious. 

"You just keep doing what you do best Static, let me worry about Alva alright? I have faith in the system, with enough people with enough passion we can achieve anything." He snorted, "Maybe I should stop before I start sounding like one of the motivational speakers they send over to your high school."