The "Ultimate DC" RPG

[guitarsingerguy]

Ion floats through space. He feels more at ease here then he does at Earth. Strange considering Earth is his home. Ion spots a dying star, flies through it releasing some of the power battery's energy, reigniting the star.

What to make of this Captain Atom. I felt nothing negative about his aura, but the people he works for. I'm not so sure about them.

 

[Batman]

IC: Batman

"That makes it a pattern in my book. He's not going after any one particular, and he's not making a pattern of it at all. Which means....he'll probably hit a 'random' type target. Except...."

I tap my finger absently to my lower lip.

He's been escalating. Sol, in the privacy of his own home, the Hospital, more specifically an operating room which was a semi-private place. Would the next place be more public than before?

The same goes for the body count.
One, then two, would the next time be more? It fit a 'type' of pattern, just how much he would leap to killing next was anyones guess, but if he was being more public with it, then it would be natural that there would be more deaths.

I look at him from my absently studying the ceiling.

"It would all escalate more, deaths and a more public place. Got any parties planned?"

She can't see it, but I feel an eyebrow arch under my cowl. That probably meant nothing, but... She is a detective. Maybe I should consider focusing more on my discreet nature, even with my allies. After all... While the intent in the costume is to scare the criminal element of Gotham, It's also to maintain that Bruce Wayne be able to live a life outside of all of this. If all my allies knew the truth... I don't think that would be possible.

I look away.

"Sorry. Sociablity isn't one of my strong points."

But she's right, in that there is a pattern. We don't know the killer's true motives, but there's a good chance attention could be one of them, whether conciously or subconciously. Why else leave two of the same memento at the scene? It wouldn't be to lead the police off the trail, otherwise the killer would use something else each time he or she struck.

But then there's the question of what, nessacarily, would be so public as to attract the killer's attention. My ties to the social gatherings and gossip as Bruce Wayne usually keep me informed of such information... But there's really nothing I can remember. At least, not soon enough for the killer. Because what they do can turn into an addiction. Because of that, the killer will surely strike again soon. But... where?

"For all we know, the killer could've already made that decision.", I mention, glancing back at Lance.

Before I can turn around again, I notice something. On her desk... the headline. "GOTHAM HIGH SCHOOL PROM FUNDRAISER EXPECTED TO REACH ALL TIME HIGH". I remember reading something about that earlier this evening. That's a social event. And a crime so ludicrous that it'd nearly be impossible for the killer to pass, given the manner of which Sol and the doctors were murdered. But isn't that...

...

Oh my god.

"The High School Prom.", I say, with urgency, looking back up at Lance. "It's tonight."

 

[WompuM]

IC: Dr. Pieter Cross
The morgue was empty this late at night. Well relativley empty. There was always someone at the front desk and the patients on the slabs. I always preferred doing autopsies late at night. It allowed me to avoid any uncomrtable meetings with the families. After all, these weren't people i was opening up, just bodies, I learned early on to seperate myself from the dead. I gotta admit though, I was interested to hear about Falcone coming in. Now, let it be known, interested is different than excited. Just because I cut up dead people doesn't make me sick.

Falcone's autopsy seemed like a regular trauma death. Well, I guess that's kind of like an oxymoran. I guess if you see enough of them, they do become regular.

This other guy... this is irregular even for a trauma case. Everything seems normal, except a missing kidney. Well maybe missing wasn't the right term. I knew where it was, shoved down his throat. I don' ven know what box to check on my report. Oh well. I'll let the emd school kids have a look in the morning.

The drive home is quiet. Not too many cars this late at night. I get home and spot Charlie having a midnight snack. Poor squirrel. I check the mailbox for Snail Brail Mail.

Gotham High Formal. Tommorow night. Ah what heck. I haven't busted out the tux in a while. Great, I hope I don't need a date.

 

[batnkevlar]

"Hello Chase."

"Hello Mr. Luthor."

"Not Lex anymore?"

"You told me otherwise."

"Ahh yes, I remember. How's research and development?"

"It's fine."

"Are you positive?"

"Sean Kelvin is doing fine."

"And Arkin?"

"Greg Arkin's finding it hard to sustain himself. His hunger's insatiable."

"And the cattle?"

"Eaten in nearly a week."

"The whole herd?"

"Yes."

"Interesting. Gaines?"

"Hard bringing back a man who was so close to death."

"If not actually dead."

"Indeed. Why do you ask?"

"No point in particular. Agent Reynaldo will be with you shortly. Set the three up for immediate departure."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"It's unsafe! Unsafe for them, unsafe for us, unsafe for everyone!"

"Listen, Dr. Meridian, do what I say, or it will be exceptionally unsafe for you."

...

"Yes sir."

"And Dr. Meridian?"

"Yes?"

"33.3 remains a secret. It remains under wraps or you'll be 3 feet under. Don't ever forget it."

 

[twylight]

IC: Batman



She can't see it, but I feel an eyebrow arch under my cowl. That probably meant nothing, but... She is a detective. Maybe I should consider focusing more on my discreet nature, even with my allies. After all... While the intent in the costume is to scare the criminal element of Gotham, It's also to maintain that Bruce Wayne be able to live a life outside of all of this. If all my allies knew the truth... I don't think that would be possible.

I look away.

"Sorry. Sociablity isn't one of my strong points."

But she's right, in that there is a pattern. We don't know the killer's true motives, but there's a good chance attention could be one of them, whether conciously or subconciously. Why else leave two of the same memento at the scene? It wouldn't be to lead the police off the trail, otherwise the killer would use something else each time he or she struck.

But then there's the question of what, nessacarily, would be so public as to attract the killer's attention. My ties to the social gatherings and gossip as Bruce Wayne usually keep me informed of such information... But there's really nothing I can remember. At least, not soon enough for the killer. Because what they do can turn into an addiction. Because of that, the killer will surely strike again soon. But... where?

"For all we know, the killer could've already made that decision.", I mention, glancing back at Lance.

Before I can turn around again, I notice something. On her desk... the headline. "GOTHAM HIGH SCHOOL PROM FUNDRAISER EXPECTED TO REACH ALL TIME HIGH". I remember reading something about that earlier this evening. That's a social event. And a crime so ludicrous that it'd nearly be impossible for the killer to pass, given the manner of which Sol and the doctors were murdered. But isn't that...

...

Oh my god.

"The High School Prom.", I say, with urgency, looking back up at Lance. "It's tonight."

My eyes widen, the newspaper reported over a hundred people were expected to show. I glance at the clock, it wasn't slated to start for another hour that gave us time to formulate. Still didn't give us a lot of time since our man would be there setting up anyway.

I shake my head.
"Sorry, I'm going steady with someone else, and besides, I don't have a dress." I shrug with a smile.

 

[Batman]

IC: Batman

My eyes widen, the newspaper reported over a hundred people were expected to show. I glance at the clock, it wasn't slated to start for another hour that gave us time to formulate. Still didn't give us a lot of time since our man would be there setting up anyway.

I shake my head.
"Sorry, I'm going steady with someone else, and besides, I don't have a dress." I shrug with a smile.

Part of me thinks that she's treating it all like a joke. But then I remember our initial meeting. She can be as focused and serious as I need her to be, from time to time... Otherwise I wouldn't have considered her for an allieance.

Or... I'm being too serious.

...

I'll leave the thought for now. There's a madman on the loose in Gotham, and about a hundred people are in immediate danger. I should get there as soon as possible, and stakeout. Just until I'm sure that we're wrong. And if we're not... I'm about to get my hands dirty. But at the very least, I'll have a chance to end this potential anarky before it gets out of hand.

"I need to leave. If there's a chance I can prevent a potential massacre, I'm taking it."

I turn, walking back towards the window.

"I'll be back afterwards to retrieve the Harvey Dent file."

 

[twylight]

IC: Batman



Part of me thinks that she's treating it all like a joke. But then I remember our initial meeting. She can be as focused and serious as I need her to be, from time to time... Otherwise I wouldn't have considered her for an allieance.

Or... I'm being too serious.

...

I'll leave the thought for now. There's a madman on the loose in Gotham, and about a hundred people are in immediate danger. I should get there as soon as possible, and stakeout. Just until I'm sure that we're wrong. And if we're not... I'm about to get my hands dirty. But at the very least, I'll have a chance to end this potential anarky before it gets out of hand.

"I need to leave. If there's a chance I can prevent a potential massacre, I'm taking it."

I turn, walking back towards the window.

"I'll be back afterwards to retrieve the Harvey Dent file."

Oh he does remember doesn't he?

"Yes, I guess it would have been to much trouble to pick it up..what....4 nights ago?"

I lean on my desk and stare at him, not even trying to veil my anger.

"But you wouldn't know anything about keeping people waiting would you? YOu could have at least called. Unless a cell phone hasn't made it to your go-go-gadget belt"

I wave my fingers in front of me before putting my hand on my hip.

"And don't even think you're running off and saving the day without me. You give long lectures on 'doing things' alone but when push comes to shove you face it alone."

I can feel my voice softening a bit even though I try to keep an edge on it.
"You keep up like that and in no time you'll be stranded in a back alley with no back-up and the inability to call anyone."

I pause.
"Provided you have a cell or something."

 

[Batman]

IC: Batman

Oh he does remember doesn't he?

"Yes, I guess it would have been to much trouble to pick it up..what....4 nights ago?"

I lean on my desk and stare at him, not even trying to veil my anger.

"But you wouldn't know anything about keeping people waiting would you? YOu could have at least called. Unless a cell phone hasn't made it to your go-go-gadget belt"

I'm already halfway to the window before she eventually lets it out. I expected the moment that I came here... Just not this late into our encounter.

I turn my head, slightly. Better to keep this short, lest I want

"-It was a week ago. And beyond that, there were more important matters that called to my attention.", I begin. "Reparing equipment. Planning and rerouting strategies. Staying out of the limelight, with warrant on my head. Making sure I was still alive, after barely crawling out of an explosion. Those sort of things."

I turn around, my cape still wrapped around me.

"It's not that I didn't consider contacting you. I just didn't have the time. So yes, actually; It was too much trouble."

I wave my fingers in front of me before putting my hand on my hip.

"And don't even think you're running off and saving the day without me. You give long lectures on 'doing things' alone but when push comes to shove you face it alone."

I can feel my voice softening a bit even though I try to keep an edge on it.
"You keep up like that and in no time you'll be stranded in a back alley with no back-up and the inability to call anyone."

I pause.
"Provided you have a cell or something."

What exactly does she think she is to me? Some sort of... what's the word... sidekick? Or perhaps vice versa. Either way, she's mistaken.

"Forget it. What I do with you doesn't require getting shot at, and what I do out there does. Whether you believe this or not, I don't want you getting hurt."

I can see she's about to speak. I don't let her get a word in. I've already made up my mind about this. I have allies within the system. But out on the streets, I work alone. Period.

"This isn't up for debate. You want to be a vigilante like me, do it on your own terms. Not mine."

Turning to the window, I dive forward, and out, hitting the night air within seconds. Reaching into my belt, I throw out a line to the nearest gargoyle, and pull myself into a swing before I hit the rooftop below.

Do I honestly believe she'll listen to me? No. But at this point, I don't know if I even care. Letting her become an ally beyond what we've already established would only lead to further conflict, and worse, a further responsibility to keep her safe. I don't need any more obligations... I have enough as it is. But right now...

There's a madman loose in Gotham City. And I'm bringing him in.

 

[twylight]

IC: Batman



I'm already halfway to the window before she eventually lets it out. I expected the moment that I came here... Just not this late into our encounter.

I turn my head, slightly. Better to keep this short, lest I want

"-It was a week ago. And beyond that, there were more important matters that called to my attention.", I begin. "Reparing equipment. Planning and rerouting strategies. Staying out of the limelight, with warrant on my head. Making sure I was still alive, after barely crawling out of an explosion. Those sort of things."

I turn around, my cape still wrapped around me.

"It's not that I didn't consider contacting you. I just didn't have the time. So yes, actually; It was too much trouble."



What exactly does she think she is to me? Some sort of... what's the word... sidekick? Or perhaps vice versa. Either way, she's mistaken.

"Forget it. What I do with you doesn't require getting shot at, and what I do out there does. Whether you believe this or not, I don't want you getting hurt."

I can see she's about to speak. I don't let her get a word in. I've already made up my mind about this. I have allies within the system. But out on the streets, I work alone. Period.

"This isn't up for debate. You want to be a vigilante like me, do it on your own terms. Not mine."

Turning to the window, I dive forward, and out, hitting the night air within seconds. Reaching into my belt, I throw out a line to the nearest gargoyle, and pull myself into a swing before I hit the rooftop below.

Do I honestly believe she'll listen to me? No. But at this point, I don't know if I even care. Letting her become an ally beyond what we've already established would only lead to further conflict, and worse, a further responsibility to keep her safe. I don't need any more obligations... I have enough as it is. But right now...

There's a madman loose in Gotham City. And I'm bringing him in.

I sigh and rub my forehead.

He's stubborn and a little stupid. But he's a guy.

It's not like I was suggesting a sidekick or anything. I walk over to the closet and open it. I always keep some extra's about for last minute undercover work.

"This isn't up for debate. You want to be a vigilante like me, do it on your own terms. Not mine."

'Like' him? Wow, you'd think he owned the term vigilante, or at least the rights to it.

"Like me" HA!

I flip through my clothes, I can do this on my own, and if he thinks showing up at a Prom type event dressed as an oversized flying rodent was practical, he could.

My hand stays on a dress, it's not to fancy but would pass as a prom type thing. This wasn't really a 'prom' anyway, just a fundraiser for it so nothing to fancy. I walk to the safe and pull out a safe box of id's. filtering through I pull one out. "Samantha O'Martin", a picture of me in disguise smiled back at me. School age and easy to write off as visiting a friends from out of town. Perfect.

I hold it to my nose and smile. Oh Batty...sometimes the subtle approach works better than going in with batarangs flying.

 

[SuperFerret]

Gotham City was boring.

It always was, except when I made it fun, and that usually means that I'll have to find a captive audience and leave 'em screaming for more. Well, maybe not more, but they sure do scream alot. Sometimes it gives me headaches, which always makes me laugh. Psycho killer clowns don't ever get headaches in the movies.

I look up at the building I'm standing in front of. I'm sure if I tried hard enough, I'd remember being a whiny little dweeb who would always be bullied and picked on by the bigger kids. Or I was the trouble-making kind, the one who'd smoke pot and cut class and wear leather jackets and always say "Eyyyy" and fix broken jukeboxes by punching them.

Wait.....

Note to self: Kill Winkler.

Where was I?

....

....

Oh!

Now I remember, I'm gonna crash the prom at Gotham High. These poor kids desperately need some entertainment tonight before they all leave and drive out to lovers lane and screw like nymphomanic rabbits on speed. Ah, the innocence of youth.

Later that magical evening...

Corpses lay everywhere in the school gym. Nearly the whole senior class, as well as a few teachers and coaches who were there to chaperone, were scattered across the floor and over tables. All wearing a sick grin on his or her face.

Somebody must've spiked the punch.

I, the Joker, who was dancing with the bloated corpse of the assistant principal, as the band, the only other living people in the room, played music for me.

Or else.

Or else what?

Or else they'd get what their drummer got. Tough kid, he was. Took two bullets to drop him and he still moaned for an hour.

Oh well, que sera sera, and whatnot.

This party's about to heat up.



Or at least it better.

Or I'm skinning the rest of the band.

 

[Andy C.]

He walked calmly into the lobby of the LexCorp Tower, the Earth-men not even raising an eyebrow as he entered. Interaction among the humans was much easier, now that he was bonded with one and no longer had to deal with the crude interface of the park ranger's corpse.

He approached the receptionist at the front desk.

"Good afternoon, sir, and Welcome to LexCorp," she greeted him cheerfully. "What can we do to make your world better today?"

An obviously rehearsed line, but Brainiac understood the implications of it. Luthor fancied himself a sort of benefactor to all of his kind, and this 'LexCorp' was meant to be his way of bringing the proverbial fire to the masses. This would likely make achieving his objectives here much, much easier.

"I believe I am scheduled for an appointment with Mr. Luthor in twenty minutes."

The receptionist checked her computer and frowned.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it doesn't look like Mr. Luthor has any openings for today."

Brainiac's eyes widened, and three glowing red spots began to appear on his forehead. The woman stared at him, entranced as the bio-mechanical being opened up a telepathic link with her.

"I believe I am scheduled for an appointment with Mr. Luthor in twenty minutes."

The woman picked up the telephone at her desk, and dialed the number for Luthor's secretary.

"......Tell Mr. Luthor that his appointment for this afternoon is here."

Satisfied, Brainiac left the receptionist's desk and headed for the elevator.

 

[Batman]

IC: Batman

I leap over 3rd street, readying my line again. I feel like I've been running through miles of rooftop and granite. I don't stop to breathe. I don't pace myself. I only think of how many are going to attend that fundraiser. How many innocent people are unknowingly putting themselves in danger. And how many of them aren't even eightteen yet. The number appauls me. But more importantly, it drives me. Because the faster I go, the more brutal it becomes for my body to withstand... the closer I come to stopping the killer.

By the time I reach the rooftop, one of my belt pouches begins buzzing. Damn it... Not now. Keep going. Just ignore it, Bruce. It can't be more important than what you're about to do now.

But then again... Alfred has been lecturing me about times like this. Bruce Wayne can't ignore his duties to Gotham in similar vein to Batman being unable to ignore his. If I do... people will suspect. If they suspect, they seek information that I'd rather not let get out to the general public. And both my mission and reputation will be rendered a failure as a whole. My parents wouldn't have wanted that.

I have to. Damn it, I have to.

I stop, and the exhaustion hits me like a train. I knew this would be a mistake. Reaching into my belt, I pull out my cell phone, and press the answer button right before the line drops.

"Hel-*ahem*...Hello?"

Almost didn't catch that one. Amatuer.

"Bruce, it's Lucius."

"Good to hear from you again.", I respond, trying my absolute best not to convey any frustration. "What can I do for you?"

"I called because I needed your opinion on something. I didn't catch you at a bad time, I hope."

He has no idea.

"My time is worthless, Mr. Fox. Just ask my aide.", I say, with a chuckle to both downplay my anger and amplify the charade. "But if you could make it quick, I certainly wouldn't mind. I've got places to go, people to see... you know how the nightlife is."

"Do I ever...", He responds. "Anyway, it was about the conservation project brewing in the Eastern District. Apparentally, there's a petition being made and passed around as we speak to get the deal signed."

"Great...", I respond. "But I'm guessing there's some bad news?"

"You guessed right. Seems Commisioner Loeb is a strong protestor for the act. She wants to put a new police unit in the same area we had mapped out for the presentation. And while I don't oppose the city's police... I do oppose her reasonings. For all her talk and power, she's left her motives mighty discreet. And you can't trust that, in buisness."

I wish I could stay focused. But my mind keeps going back to the killer. This is nothing to concern myself with.

"Uh... er... You know, I gotta be honest. I'm not particularly skilled with all of your type of buisness practices, but if you want my opinion...", I say, stepping onto the ledge of the building. "Push harder for the deal. Don't let Loeb's threats and claims stop you. We already have a police department... and a damn good one at that. But the shelter we're planning to bring in is about as rare as they come... the underprivilaged need to be shown that regardless of their class, there is hope for them. Even in Gotham City."

"..."

"Took the words right outta my mouth. You got it, Mr. Wayne."

I breathe a silent sigh of relief, getting ready to hang up.

"Oh, and by the way... How's the new District Attorney doing? You two seemed awful close at the party last week..."

...I really should watch what I think.

"She's... um... fine?", I say, trying my best to speed up the conversation.

"You know, if you two really are an item, you could convince her to support our petition. She has nearly as much power as the Commisioner, and after all, there's nothing like fighting fire with fire."

"AHHH! SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE! HELP ME!!!"

My head shoots to the right, hearing that. A woman's scream. Coming from the next block. She sounds terrified.

"...What was that?"

"Uh... my, um... my lady friend, here. Gizelle. Or maybe it's Katherine. I don't really remember.", I mutter, scoping out the area with the night vision setting in my cowl lense. "She spotted a spider. Poor girl jumps at every little thing. But it's so cute."

Wow. Hearing my own words, I'm really beginning to realise why the public thinks I'm a sleaze.

"-Oh. So you and the new DA aren't-"

"Strictly rumor. Nothing more. I'd love to talk more, Mr. Fox, but she... ah... her hands seem to have made their way to my pants. Heh, I'm gonna have to call you back, man. Later."

I immediatley shut the phone off. God, I can really hate that routine sometimes. But I can't worry about that now. I've got a mugging to my right, and a possible prom massacre to my left. If I'm going to even stand a chance of preventing both from occurance, I have to make this quick.

Leaping over the ledge, I spread my cape and hit the air, flying over a street gap. A potential hundreds of lives hangs in the balance... Time to focus.

* * *

Wiping the blood from my knuckles, I turn back towards the terrified woman as her whimpers slowly fade along with the excitement. Three drug dealers attacked her. All armed with varied weaponry. It took a few minutes more than it should have when I realised that one of them was a steroid abuser, but it only costed me one tooth. I'll live... and more importantly, so will she.

"Go home, Miss.", I state, running back into the shadows and leaping to a fire escape. "You'll be safe there."

Climbing up, I make my way back to the rooftops, and resume my route towards the Highschool.

I've wasted far too much time. Lucius' call and the mugging only delayed my immediate goal for the evening... I may be too late to save anyone. But I'm still holding out hope... because I may be the only one that still is. And that's what I've found to be the quality that seperates me most from other Gotham citizens. It may kill me... it may save them. Either way, a killer is still running free out there. Tonight, that's going to change.

I grit my teeth, realising that I lied to her. That woman won't be safe... no one is. Not even a set of innocent high schoolers attending a prom, as evidenced by where I'm heading now. Not in this city.

But I'm working on it.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Clayface- 'Role of a lifetime'
----------------------------------
Several months later, Matt is talking to his agent, giving him words of thanks as he sits in his trailer, getting ready for the first shooting of the new Owlman film.

"Doug I--I don't know what to say. You're the reason I'm here right now. Thanks man. What? No. It's cool. Yea. I'll meet you up for dinner later this evening. Oh and, bring your wife. Yea. I got a present for you two and I want her to be there to see it."

Later that day, Matt Hagen's limo drives up to one of the finest resturaunts in all of Gotham City and enters the lobby.

"Do you have a reservation, sir?"

"Yes. Hagen. Table for 3. I reserved it earlier this week. Have my guests already arrived?"

"Hagen, Hagen, Hagen...ah! Matthew Hagen. Table for 3. Right this way, sir. And yes, sir, you have a gentleman and his lovely wife waiting for you at your table."

"Great. And hey, it's ok. You don't have to escort me. I'll find them myself. It's somewhat a surprise."

"Very well, sir."

Matt walks around the resturaunt and spots Doug, his agent, with his wife; he approaches the two from the side and as he speaks, he changes his accent.

"Evil doers, beware!"

Doug and his wife turn to their side, confused.

"What? Oh..Matt! Hey man! That the voice you doing for the Owlman film? Nice man. Come on! Sit! Now, what was this surprise of yours?"

Matt takes a seat and a waiter comes to their table and takes their orders. As the waiter leaves, Matt places a box onto the table and speaks up.

"Well, I wanted to wait til his birthday, but, I figured now would be an easier time to get a hold of these. Your son likes comics, right Doug?"

"Yea. Wait, don't tell me."

"Oh yea."

Matt hands over the box to Doug and Doug removes the wrapping.

"You gotta be kidding me! Wow!"

"Heh, thought you would like it. That's only one of the few merchandise that is going to come out with the success of this Owlman film. I figured, your son could be the first one to play the new limited time Owlman action figures. There'll be more where that came from after the film hits the big screens though."

"Thanks, Matt. I'll give it to TJ tonight."

"And, for the lovely lady..."

Matt reaches into his pocket and takes out a small case. He hands it over to Doug's wife. She opens it and it's a diamond bracelet.

"Wait a second, you aren't trying to win my wife's love too, are you Matt? Cause I mean, after I show TJ this...I'm afraid he might like you more too!"

The three laugh and then Matt interrupts.

"No no no. I just happened to be walking by the Macy's on 3rd and 6th and I thought it would be a nice gift. Enjoy it."

"I appreciate the gestures, Matt. But you sure it's wise to spend all this dough? Don't tell me you got me something too."

"Doug. Come on now. I owe you for this great opportunity given to me. You know how badly I needed and wanted this Owlman role. It's going to put me back on top again. These gifts...they aren't even worth what I owe you. So please, take this gift."

Matt reaches into his pocket and hands Doug a small box. He opens it and its a Rolex watch.

"Matt I...wow...thanks."

"Don't mention it, Doug. I'm looking towards the future and you know what I see? Success, fortune, and fame."

OOC: I forgot to mention when applying and in my first post but, my first few posts are taking place a few years from the present. The reasons behind this should be obvious if you read my application or my first post. I will make another OOC notice when my story is during the present time; so everything "now" is the past.

OOC: I quoted that other OOC tag above to remind you all about the time I said that. So, this current post is going on "now". No more posts based in the past.

Clayface- 'Role of a lifetime'
----------------------------------
"What? What do you mean I can't handle it?! I'M MATT HAGEN! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!?! GAH!"

Matt angrily hangs up the phone and throws it across the room. It's been 3 years since the Owlman movie became a hit. However, while Matt has basked in his glory for the movie become a huge hit at the box offices, ever since he has noticed a decline in his career. Few people have been giving him time to audition for newer roles.

Matt walks into his room and over to his bed and lays down. After thinking for a while, he places his hand over at his dresser, picks up his cell phone, begins to dial a number, and places the phone to his ear.

"Doug? Hey, it's me...Matt. What? No...no he turned me down as well. I don't understand it, Doug. I should be someone everyone wants! What? REALLY! I'LL BE OVER THERE IN A FEW MINUTES! Huh? No, don't worry about it. Tell me later. I'm just happy to finally get an audition. See you there."

25 Minutes later, Matt is standing in a lobby, waiting for the receptionist to call his name for his audition. Matt looks around at the people around him and looks a bit confused. They all look like ordinary people; no celebrities like himself.

"What the--"

"--Hagen? Is there a Matt Hagen here?"

"Uh, yea. That's me."

"They are ready to see you. Please--"

The receptionist gets up from her desk and opens the door.

"--come with me."

Matt follows her through the door and down the hall. As they reach the third door to the left, she stops, opens the door and points him to walk in. As Matt walks into the room, she heads back to the lobby.
​

 

[trustyside-kick]

Clayface- 'Role of a lifetime'
----------------------------------
After a few minutes of sitting down in the room with the interviewers, Matt begins to ignore all they tell him. They hand him the script, along with some container which at first confuses Matt but looks like it contains cream. He's fixated on reading the script, however, things do not end so nicely. He reads the title and then the first few lines and then just looks at the men talking. He abrubtly gets up, doesn't say anything, and storms out of the room, dialing his agent's number while walking out.

"Doug? DOUG! What the hell man! A commercial? Are you ****ting me? YOU GOT ME AN AUDITION FOR THAT ****? I'M MATT ****ING HAGEN!"

Matt hangs up the telephone as he walks to the parking garage. As he enters his car, his cell phone rings; it's his agent, Doug.

"Matt Matt Matt. I know you're upset, alright?"

"Upset? You got me an audition for a commerical. What, you thought I was going to be thrilled?"

"I was trying to tell you before you went, but no...you wouldn't let me finish and rushed over to the damn place Matt! Listen man..."

"No, Doug, you listen. I'm Matt Hagen, alright? Matt Hagen. I've had several huge roles and that Owlman film and this is the best you can get me? Maybe I should get a new agent, someone who can--"

"--Your typecasted, Matt. I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I was waiting to meet you over lunch to tell you face-to-face, but...listen, Matt...I'm real sorry man...really I--I hate to say it but it's true. No one seems to want you. You know what they see when they see your face or hear your name? I'll tell you what they see, Matt: Owlman. Plus, you're not as young as you used to be. You're old news, Matt."

"Doug this...this can't be it man...not like this...NOT LIKE THIS."

"I'm sorry, Matt. You've been typecasted. You have no idea how hard it was for me to get you that audition."

"An audition for some aging cream? Supposed to realign your face to get rid of wrinkles? This is the BEST I could get, Doug?"

"I'm sorry, Matt. I really am buddy."

"No. No. No. NOOOOO!! GAH--"

Matt throws the cell phone out his car window, shuts the door, starts up the engine and drives out of the parking lot.

 

[guitarsingerguy]

Ion sits on a large floating rock in mid space.

No more. No more waiting. No more soul searching. No more ignoring my humanity.

Ion leaps off the rock headed directly for one place: Oa. Upon his arrival, his first order of business is to settle up with several little blue men. He flies into their chamber.

"Guardians! I demand your attention! I'm tired of waiting! I'm tired of training! Lastly, I'm tired of not remembering what it means to be human!"

"Torchbearer, please be patient. Your time comes, but if you feel it necessary to make yourself useful elsewhere until that time, then please do so. You will know when you are needed."

"You truly care nothing about my loss of emotion? How dare you!?"

"Kyle, you have not lost your emotions. You have simply learned to suppress them."

"Kyle....I haven't been called that name for a very long time. So I am free to do what I wish with my time?"

"Until the battery calls you home, yes."

"What if I no longer wish for the Lantern's responsibility?"

"It is yours and yours alone Kyle. Now go. Bring some balance to the universe until your true calling is revealed."

Kyle leaves the chamber and floats to the central power battery. He places his hand onto it.

"Give me strength."

Ion turns and begins heading towards the beautiful blue planet he once called home.

 

[twylight]

<snip>

 

[Byrd Man]

Central City, Missouri
18 Months Ago


"Mr. Rathaway? Mr. Rathaway, do you want ketchup on your burger?"

I scowl and point towards the yellow squirt bottle.

"Ah, mustard it is then."

Dan hands me my burger and I take a bite out of it. Dan Campbell was my father's right hand man and now that he's dead, he's my right hand man.

"So, Mr. Rathaway..."

I throw him a dirty look and move my right index finger across my neck.

"What? What are you trying to say, Mr. Rathaway?"

I bug out my eyes and put my finger over my mouth.

"What? Oh! Okay I get it. Hartley."

I smile and nod. Finally, this guy needs to learn sound language.

"So, Hartley. I have the third quarter reports of Rath-Tech and would like you to go over them."

He hands me a thick sheet and I run down it. Buisness was my minor at Keystone U. my major was music. I always loved to play the classics. I was suppose to audition for the New York Philharmonic last month, but my parents plane to L.A. crashed in the desert and they died. Forcing me to give up my dream and take over the family buisness.

I run my finger down the diffrent projects. I stop at one and point at it.

"What is it, Hartley?"

He leans over and looks at the title.

"Sound Modification and Amplification? One of our scientist believes he can use notes and frequencys to manipulate sounds and air. Were seriously thinking of cutting his budget. Do you find it intesting?"

I shrug my shoulders and do my best impression of acting nonchalant.

The Next Day

I make my way down to the sound lab and knock on the door.

"Come in."

I walk in and see a tiny man with frazzled hair and reading glasses purched on his nose looking at me.

"You must be the new head honcho. Osgood's boy, your dad was a good man. I'm Dr. Martin."

I smile at him and wave at all the equipment and devices.

"Oh yeah that's right, your a mute. Let me find a peice of paper and a pen. I'm too old to play 21 questions."

He hands me a pen and a scrap of paper and I write on it.

So how does all of this work?

"You mean the sound modification? Well It's really a blend of low grade neural frequencies and electronic manipulation. If I had some more funding, It could be used for lowgrade telepathy."

I pull out my checkbook and click the pen....

6 Months Ago


"Here it is, Mr. Rathaway."

I shoot Dr. Martin a dirty look and he get's my meaning.

"I mean Hartley, Thanks to your funding and designs. I was able to produce a sound manipulating device, in the form you might like."

He opens up a case and pulls out a green and silver flute made of some sort of metallic element.

"This device is able to manipulate sound waves to produce concussion blast, as well as low grade telepathy and mind control. Keep in mind it's a prototype, the full model should be twice as powerful."

My thoughts are persuaded by the nearby Television and it's showing a report on the recent rise of costume avengers. Superman in Metropolis, The Batman in Gotham, The Flash across the river in Keystone. Something inside me kicks on, a need to do something more than be a spoiled rich boy.

"Hartley? Hartley? Are you listening to me?"

I snap back on and turn to him with a smile. Although I'm still intrested in the flute, I see it in a new light and wonder how long Dr. Martin stays at work after closing hours....

Present Day

After waiting, training, and ordering materials and gear from companies. Tonight is the night. Tonight the Pied Pipper roams Central City.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Clayface- 'Role of a lifetime'
----------------------------------
As Matt pulls up to his house in upstate Gotham, he sees his agent Doug waiting outside his car, leaning up against it. As Matt walks up to his door, ignoring Doug, Doug reaches out to him.

"Matt, come on man. Don't act like that."

Matt opens his door, and leaves it open for Doug to follow. As Doug walks in and closes the door, Matt is walking towards his theatre room, putting on an old film. Doug walks in and sees Matt sitting on the couch, with a pillow under his chin, like a little kid watching a horror film.

"What happened to me, Doug? I used to be the best dish. And now? I'm leftovers. Leftovers not even the family dog wants."

"Don't talk like that, Matt. Listen, I'll call back the aging cream place and have it all straightened out. I know that isn't what you want to hear, but..at this moment you need to slowly build yourself back to the top again."

"What is the point, Doug? I will hit rock bottom once again, if I even get back on top again."

Matt looks over to his walls, where he has a movie poster for every film he has been in; his glory days. He looks over at Doug.

"Dial the number...I'll talk to them. You just go home, Doug. I'll call you tomorrow."

Doug dials the number, hands over the phone to Matt, and heads out of the room and out the front door. After a few seconds of waiting, someone picks up on the other line.

"You've reached the office of Dr. Wilkson. How may I help you?"

"Hi, this is Matt Hagen...from earlier this day."

"Ah yes. You came by for the audition. Well, Dr. Wilkson is not in at the moment. Would you like me to leave you a message?"

"Yea. I want to apologize for my behavior and actions and would like to know if I could get a second shot at the audition."

"I'll get that message to him right away, Mr. Hagen. He should be back soon. What number can he call to get back to you?"

"816-9301."

"Alright, Mr. Hagen. I'll make sure he gets back to you."

"Thank you."

 

[Batman]

IC: Batman

It takes six minutes and thirty seven seconds for me to reach the area. And the fact that I actually counted that time worries me. But what worries me even more is the possibility that I'm already too late.

I walk across a ledge of a building near the High School's gymnasium. The fact that I make one wrong step and I'll end up crushed along the turn of Sprang blv. doesn't even phase me as I kneel down, and switch the lenses of my cowl to scope mode.

No one's outside of the building. And the only thing I can see from the skylight is the blinding phases of tinted lights. Reds, purples... all routine for an event like this. Of course, then again, I wouldn't know... I never attended my prom.

I switch the lenses back to standard, at that thought. There's so much I've missed in life that I never realised before. Didn't have my first date until this year, and that didn't exactly turn out well. Never worked to apply for a job... I inherited one. I never really even had the time to consider... marraige. Children. A family. A life. It's all been taken away from me. I look down at the costume I'm wearing... the symbol on my chest. If I keep doing this... will I ever get the chance?

...

Wait a minute. No one's outside of the building? I switch my scope back on. It looked a bit irregular at first, but looking at it again... it looks too irregular. No cars, no escorts, no latecomers... nothing. Just the lights inside.

Something's wrong.

I take out my grapnel, and shoot it at the building on the other side of the gymnasium. Swinging from the ledge of the building I'm on to the roof of the gym, I let go, and land with a roll. Standing up, I creep over to the skylight, and look down.

...

...

...

Oh, my god.

The first thing I notice is all of the blood. It nearly gives a new coat of paint the floor, there's so much of it. It's only after a minimal moment of shock that I realise that the blood's origin is coming from the corpses. I try to count them, but eventually... I... I have to stop. There's too many. I've never seen such carnage... madness. Damn it! I could've stopped this. If only I had been here a second earl-

I squint as I notice the only figure in the room that isn't lifeless. I can't see any of his features, but he seems to be... dancing. Dancing all among this? I grit my teeth, clenching my fists as I rush forward. I think I've just found my killer.

Without a second's hesitation, I leap through the skylight, cape spread, glass all around me. Within a second I find myself landing feet first into a pool of blood. What kind of monster would be so sick... so demented to do all of this?

I turn, seeing the two figures still dancing. Upon closer inspection, I don't think one of them is moving. There's only one living person in this room aside from me, and given his calmness and stature... He's the one that did this. I guess I'm about to find out what kind of monster this person really is.

"What the hell have you done?"

 

[Batman]

IC: Batman

In the shadow of two corpses that once layed fresh upon the city's streets, Ive dedicated my life to battling the world's purest forms of evil. I tried to prepare for everything. Rapists. Muggers. Thiefs. Arsonists. Sadists. Terrorists. Machonists. The occasional corrupted official. The list is nearly endless. But I thought and hoped that I was ready for anything, going into this.

I've been proven wrong, admist a bloodbath of a highschool gymnasium.

Their killer dances in the darkness of this apparent chaos, gracefully making his way around the room as if none of this phases him. As if the severed heads and bloody hands are nothing but apart of a game to him.

Murder is not, and never will be a game, in my eyes.

I stand, silent... observant of my new enemy. The destroyed lighting and darkness of the city's skies above us leave much to the imagination, but from what I can tell, the figure is tall. Composed. Completely, physically telling that he is not aware of the crime he's committed. That, or his sick mind simply enjoys it all.

Eventually, he pauses, and turns to me. Stepping over as apart of 'the dance' he's put himself within, my eyes widen as he steps into a lighted area. He's dressed as... a children's clown? Is he mocking the entire situation?

"Want to cut in?", He asks, spinning, and leaning his companion backwards, so the face is facing me.

I look down, expecting a helpless hostage. But I immediately want to vomit at the true sight. He's dancing with a corpse. A corpse, for god's sake. And what's worse is that I can't tell how exactly he killed the man. But somehow, he's managed to peel back the lips into the most ghastly grin I've ever seen. Looking up at the killer with gritted teeth, I try my absolute best not to go into a rage. Can't afford to. Not after The Creeper. Not after... Talia.

"Who are you?", I ask, as he drops the corpse, forcing it to fall into a pile of others.

"Excellent question. Who are we all? What is our purpose?", He asks, turning around.

My god. His face... that grin. And I thought the corpse was bad.

"My purpose is to, quite simply, entertain.", He begins. "This party was absolutely dead and dull when I arrived. So I'm played upon irony's sake and brought forth it's true nature. As you can plainly see.", He continues, indicating the corpses that surround us.

"That's not entertaining."

"It is to me! HAHAHAHAHA!"

I clench my fists. That's it. The laughter is where I draw the line. Rushing forward, I throw my fist as hard as I can into his face, knocking him back. He stumbles, at first, but eventually spins, and ...grins even wider.

"I can see some of us don't have taste."

"For the last time, who are you?", I growl, making my anger very much apparent.

He bows, reaching into his jacket, before looking up at me and throwing something towards my direction. I lift my cape, preparing for an attack. But it ends up being a mere piece of paper. Leaning down, never taking my eyes off of him, I pick it up, and turn it over.

"My card."

...

It's... a joker. A joker card.

"You?!", I exclaim, looking up. "You're the-"

"Joker?", He asks, still holding that grin. "Why yes. A fan, are you?"

I sneer, throwing the card to the side. I'm growing sick of these games, and I've only been here a minute at the least.

"Hardly.", I respond. "You're responsible for at least five homocides. Not even taking these into account."

"And those were only a warmup.", The man calling himself "Joker" says, quick to answer.

"Not likely. You're going to an institution."

"That was never apart of my schedule.", He responds, pulling out a gun.

"And oh, how I do love sticking to schedule.", The Joker continues. "Frankly, you were never apart of it either. So I guess you'll be on your way to that big, golden harp in the sky too. Or belfry, as it were. HAHAHAHA!"

My hand's already on the Batarang by the time he's begun his second laugh. This should be over by now. The madman should already be down. I can't reason with him. But at the same time... I can't get past his motif. It's more effective than I expected. It's thrown me off.

But it doesn't stop me from throwing the Batarang, as I vault forward, letting it go and hitting his weapon. It flies, landing in the punchbowl near us. The Joker looks back at it, and then at me.

"Punch me... then toss my gun into... Punch?", He asks, almost disturbed by this rather... simplistic observation.

"..."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

...What in the hell?

He clutches his abdominals, giggling madly. I just don't understand this man's mentality. And I already know I don't like it.

"Oh... Oh god... hehe... that's priceless. Irony in my own little game. I think I'm going to like you, Batty Mc-"

My fist flies into his face again, silencing his insane banter. Then I hit him again, in the opposite direction. A knee to the solar plexus and a spin kick across his face, and The Joker goes flying, crashing into one of the tables, amongst his 'entertainees'.

I walk forward, stepping over the corpses, ready for more. He's going to pay for what he's done. I can promise that much.

He scrambles to his feet, visibly wounded, but still grinning. What is it with him?

"Don't have to get all burned up about it. Just say you didn't like the joke.", He says, as I grab him, and lift him from his feet, angrily. "Speaking of burned..."

I pause, feeling something hit my arm. Liquid, of some sort. But immediatley, I realise that it's beginning to hurt. And the pain only increases, as I look down at my bicep.

...

Is that...?

"AGGH!", I scream, dropping him, grabbing my arm, and immediately tearing away at the cloth covering my melting armguard.

I can hear the maniac's laughter echo, as I tear off and throw down the burned section of the suit's sleeve. Acid. He used acid on me. And it actually melted through the suit. For that, I think, he's going to pay even worse. But by the time I look up... He's already halfway to the doors, sprinting madly as he begins throwing something from his jacket. I rush forward, trying to persue him. He can't get away.

"Have a nice trip..."

My eyes widen as I lose balance, and slip over the floor, landing hard on my back.

"...See you next fall! HAHAHAHAHA!"

Ugh. I don't know what feels worse. My back, which hit a steel cable sprawled along the floor... or the pun that The Joker felt he had to add to my misery. I reach down, picking up one of the many objects that tripped me. Probably some sort of mine, or-

...

"-Marbles.", I say to myself, angrily.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse.

"Well, it's been real, as these kids say. Oh... whoops, I mean said.", He says, with a grin that Satan himself probably couldn't even attempt. "But I'm on a tight schedule. Really, though, it was a thrill tangling with you on this magical evening, Batface."

He waves, opening the door, as I try my absolute best to get to my feet. No... No, he can't. Not after what he did tonight.

"Call me!", He exclaims, before rushing out the door with more of that damned maniacality.

I...

No. No, that couldn't have happened. Damn it! I... I failed. I failed again. And even worse, this time. The bodies that circle me are just a reminder of that, as my head hangs low only to see my own hand pounding the ground beneath me as hard as I possibly can.

The Joker won. Evil won. And all of these people lost, horribly. Mother... father... I.... I'm sorry. I let you down.

I let you down.