Mr Zoat
Dedicated ragequitter
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Earth 12
8th March 2002
00:38 GMT -7
Jade backs up further, a shock baton appearing in her left hand and a crossbow pistol in her right. But there isn't any particular surprise in her expression. Her life to date hasn't encouraged or rewarded trust and she certainly wasn't putting any faith in me at this point in our working relationship. To be fair, I don't trust her either, which is why none of my employees know why we're here.
"Hey, what the hell are you-"
There's an arrowhead next to my head-
"-doing?!"
-as the battered canisters leak brown sludge over the floor of Mr Edge's vault. Liquids don't really compress that well but they do conduct blast waves. Thank you, Hollywood Science. I could shoot it again, but at this point-.
The mud begins purposively pouring out of the canisters, collecting into thick strands which writhe and twist around one another before merging into a unified mass.
The arrow lowers.
"The.. hell..?"
I lower the Gravity Rod and step forward as arms, legs and the outline of a face begin to appear.
"Mister Hagen? Are you compos mentis?"
I don't look, but I suspect that Roy is frowning as he reorientates his arrow. "Hagen. Clayface?"
"Not my greatest role." Mr Hagen mimes cracking a neck he no longer possesses, then lumbers around to look at the canisters. "How long was I in there?"
"About four years, I'm afraid."
He turns back to the four of us, eyes -such as he has- properly focusing on me for the first time.
"Edge?"
"Will be spending some significant time explaining himself to the Federal Bureau of Investigation once we anonymously drop him off."
He thinks about that for a moment.
"You some kind of superhero?"
"I prefer to think of myself-."
"Heh. Supervillain, then."
"Not really." I hold up the Rod. "Barely know how to use it." I indicate Roy with my right thumb. "He's a superhero. She's-" I look around and nod at Barbara. "-a former supervillain and she-" I nod at Jade. "-issss..." I raise my eyebrows. "Former supervillain?"
She shrugs.
I turn back to Mr Hagen.
"Former supervillain. I, Mister Hagen, am in the business of locating people who have -for whatever reason- made some rather unfortunate choices, but whom I think might be amenable to making better ones in future."
"Uh-huh."
I reach down with my right hand, unclip a chemical flask and hold it out to him.
"MP Forty. I understand it helps you pull yourself into shape."
He looks at it hungrily. "It does more than that. It makes me feel human again. What do you want for it?"
I shake my head. "Nothing. First taste is free."
"Heh." He reaches forward with his left hand and takes it from me. "And the second taste?"
I shrug. "You need to show me that you're serious about reforming. I can arrange for you to continue receiving doses while you're in prison-"
"Ah, I already don't like this plan."
"-and for a legal team who will keep the time you'll serve to an absolute minimum. Doctor Bates is already working for me-."
He frowns. "Stella? She's still..?"
"Invested in your wellbeing? Yes. Her work has enough other applications that that I've been able to justify setting her up in a laboratory, and I'm happy for her to also work on a long-term fix for you."
"If I play ball."
"If you play ball."
He holds up his right arm and turns his hand into a morning star.
"And if I don't?"
"I don't intend to stop you." I step aside, leaving a clear aisle towards the vault's exit. "You're free to go."
He lumbers past us and sticks his head out through the door. "That sounds better. Where are we, anyway?"
"A small island in the South Pacific." He stills, then turns back to me. "I won't stop you from leaving… But if we don't come to terms then I won't help you to leave."
He lumbers back, growing larger as he does so. Though his combat abilities are… Disturbing, he is restricted by conservation of mass. While he can whip out his arms to tens of metres long they're not particularly strong when he does that, which is why he makes dense patches in the shape of bludgeoning or melee weapons when he wants to seriously hurt someone.
I fold my arms across my chest and wait patiently.
"Not Arkham. Not Blackgate. Someplace… Nice. I think I want to take up gardening."
"I don't have the authority to negotiate, but… I'll see what I can do. Avoiding Arkham should be simple enough; whatever else you are you're clearly not insane."
"Guess that'll have to do." He shifts his right hand back into a hand, twists the top off the flask and downs the contents. Then he tosses it back towards the canisters which contained him. "How are we getting off this rock?"
"Submarine."
He closes his eyes and groans.
"Submarine. Why did it have to be a submarine?"
"The island's too small for an airplane big enough to carry you and I don't own a helicopter big enough to carry you. Cheshire, would you be so good as to lead the way out?"
She stows her pistol bow, makes brief eye contact with Roy and then turns away, heading cautiously down the corridor towards the exit. Mr Hagen regards me for a moment, then turns away to lumber after her.
"Clayface."
"Arsenal, I don't like using their-" I make fleeting eye contact with Barbara, who looks away. "-nom de infamies. I think it encourages them to think of themselves as criminals and nothing else. Will you stay here until the navy arrives?"
"Yeah, no problem." He nods. "Good trip."
Barbara and I follow Mr Hagen towards the front door, the sky outside… Glowing red for some reason? Flares? Did we miss someone, or is the navy early? That could be a little awkward if-.
"Acquisition successful. Locating local variant 'Peter Wynne'."
What the hell is-?
Mr Hagen smiles as he looks back at me.
"Guess I'm getting out-"
He shrinks, assuming my form.
"-after all. Thanks for the jail-."
A giant blue.. hand reaches down and grabs him, pulling him up into the air.
"Acquisition successful."
…
"What?"
8th March 2002
00:38 GMT -7
Jade backs up further, a shock baton appearing in her left hand and a crossbow pistol in her right. But there isn't any particular surprise in her expression. Her life to date hasn't encouraged or rewarded trust and she certainly wasn't putting any faith in me at this point in our working relationship. To be fair, I don't trust her either, which is why none of my employees know why we're here.
"Hey, what the hell are you-"
There's an arrowhead next to my head-
"-doing?!"
-as the battered canisters leak brown sludge over the floor of Mr Edge's vault. Liquids don't really compress that well but they do conduct blast waves. Thank you, Hollywood Science. I could shoot it again, but at this point-.
The mud begins purposively pouring out of the canisters, collecting into thick strands which writhe and twist around one another before merging into a unified mass.
The arrow lowers.
"The.. hell..?"
I lower the Gravity Rod and step forward as arms, legs and the outline of a face begin to appear.
"Mister Hagen? Are you compos mentis?"
I don't look, but I suspect that Roy is frowning as he reorientates his arrow. "Hagen. Clayface?"
"Not my greatest role." Mr Hagen mimes cracking a neck he no longer possesses, then lumbers around to look at the canisters. "How long was I in there?"
"About four years, I'm afraid."
He turns back to the four of us, eyes -such as he has- properly focusing on me for the first time.
"Edge?"
"Will be spending some significant time explaining himself to the Federal Bureau of Investigation once we anonymously drop him off."
He thinks about that for a moment.
"You some kind of superhero?"
"I prefer to think of myself-."
"Heh. Supervillain, then."
"Not really." I hold up the Rod. "Barely know how to use it." I indicate Roy with my right thumb. "He's a superhero. She's-" I look around and nod at Barbara. "-a former supervillain and she-" I nod at Jade. "-issss..." I raise my eyebrows. "Former supervillain?"
She shrugs.
I turn back to Mr Hagen.
"Former supervillain. I, Mister Hagen, am in the business of locating people who have -for whatever reason- made some rather unfortunate choices, but whom I think might be amenable to making better ones in future."
"Uh-huh."
I reach down with my right hand, unclip a chemical flask and hold it out to him.
"MP Forty. I understand it helps you pull yourself into shape."
He looks at it hungrily. "It does more than that. It makes me feel human again. What do you want for it?"
I shake my head. "Nothing. First taste is free."
"Heh." He reaches forward with his left hand and takes it from me. "And the second taste?"
I shrug. "You need to show me that you're serious about reforming. I can arrange for you to continue receiving doses while you're in prison-"
"Ah, I already don't like this plan."
"-and for a legal team who will keep the time you'll serve to an absolute minimum. Doctor Bates is already working for me-."
He frowns. "Stella? She's still..?"
"Invested in your wellbeing? Yes. Her work has enough other applications that that I've been able to justify setting her up in a laboratory, and I'm happy for her to also work on a long-term fix for you."
"If I play ball."
"If you play ball."
He holds up his right arm and turns his hand into a morning star.
"And if I don't?"
"I don't intend to stop you." I step aside, leaving a clear aisle towards the vault's exit. "You're free to go."
He lumbers past us and sticks his head out through the door. "That sounds better. Where are we, anyway?"
"A small island in the South Pacific." He stills, then turns back to me. "I won't stop you from leaving… But if we don't come to terms then I won't help you to leave."
He lumbers back, growing larger as he does so. Though his combat abilities are… Disturbing, he is restricted by conservation of mass. While he can whip out his arms to tens of metres long they're not particularly strong when he does that, which is why he makes dense patches in the shape of bludgeoning or melee weapons when he wants to seriously hurt someone.
I fold my arms across my chest and wait patiently.
"Not Arkham. Not Blackgate. Someplace… Nice. I think I want to take up gardening."
"I don't have the authority to negotiate, but… I'll see what I can do. Avoiding Arkham should be simple enough; whatever else you are you're clearly not insane."
"Guess that'll have to do." He shifts his right hand back into a hand, twists the top off the flask and downs the contents. Then he tosses it back towards the canisters which contained him. "How are we getting off this rock?"
"Submarine."
He closes his eyes and groans.
"Submarine. Why did it have to be a submarine?"
"The island's too small for an airplane big enough to carry you and I don't own a helicopter big enough to carry you. Cheshire, would you be so good as to lead the way out?"
She stows her pistol bow, makes brief eye contact with Roy and then turns away, heading cautiously down the corridor towards the exit. Mr Hagen regards me for a moment, then turns away to lumber after her.
"Clayface."
"Arsenal, I don't like using their-" I make fleeting eye contact with Barbara, who looks away. "-nom de infamies. I think it encourages them to think of themselves as criminals and nothing else. Will you stay here until the navy arrives?"
"Yeah, no problem." He nods. "Good trip."
Barbara and I follow Mr Hagen towards the front door, the sky outside… Glowing red for some reason? Flares? Did we miss someone, or is the navy early? That could be a little awkward if-.
"Acquisition successful. Locating local variant 'Peter Wynne'."
What the hell is-?
Mr Hagen smiles as he looks back at me.
"Guess I'm getting out-"
He shrinks, assuming my form.
"-after all. Thanks for the jail-."
A giant blue.. hand reaches down and grabs him, pulling him up into the air.
"Acquisition successful."
…
"What?"
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