The Murder At Syn City (Night Club)

[william]

[[ O.O.C. NOTE: A post to introduce "Clayface" a.k.a. Matthew Hagen. It's open to anyone if you want to continue the story: just keep in mind it is the following morning, and only thing known for sure is the unknown girl Matthew Hagen disguised as hasn't been seen or found since (feel free to give her an identity if you like). Also the body of Jack Kepler [an accountant used to manage the finances of the latest big blockbuster Clayface] has been found dead in the V.I.P. private lounge. The last person to see him alive has been confirmed by cameras and eye witnesses to be the mystery missing woman. Sorry if my writing in the roleplay confuses anyone, and hope you enjoy it! ]]

[/color][/i]. The fluorescent lively sign couldn't be missed among the travelers of Gotham City. It spoke to the audiences in a multitude of ways, as it held a graphic choice of words, and a very well kept appearance. It was glorified, surrounded by lights, and further beautified the glass roofed, dome shaped building it was promoting. It further beautified, because the building itself was flooding with lights of its own- multicolored heading up into the night sky. It was an expensive show, but it was well financed, as underneath the sign itself was a sea of people standing outside the building waiting, wishing to be a lucky one to get in- to be able to “syn.” Inside the room was even more beyond the imagination, as inside the well-established building, was quite frankly an overcrowding of people. Every single one of them were pulled together, like gravity, in a dance floor in the middle of the room. It was a club, an expensive one at that. People, when visiting Gotham just hoped to be able to see the inside of this place- more or less get to be able to communicate and dance on the floor.

Though the true gravity of the room was expressed towards the back, where people get ALL the attention. At the back of entrance of the building is a door strictly saying in bold letters V.I.P. Anyone entering, or exiting, the location forced the heads in the room to turn, to look- to give them attention. It was what they all wanted to be in truth, and it didn't matter what it took to get there. The human mind forced them to see those people- those selected few- as great. As better than great really when you get down to it. As stupendously superior to them, and treated them like stars of the room all because of three simple letters, and the next “star” in line is a short, stocky man who realistically wouldn't get the second glance of someone. His eyes were blocked by glasses that were two sizes too big, his nose (which the glasses balanced on) long reached out from his face, and his hair which was probably once thick and full of life: is now a sad mismanaged fragment of itself combed over it's missing pieces.

He, by looks alone, wouldn't normally get the time of day. The sad circle of life. However tonight he is getting not only the time of day of one person, no- he is getting the time of day of the entire room. As he very calmly escaped into the room, clearly a natural to the environment, from the crowds view, following not too long after him was a very beautiful brunette woman. Her long hair flowing behind her, and her face lit up the room when she smiled. Looking back, it was clear the woman was new to the whole experience, as she spoke at presumably someone in the crowd of people she came out of. ”He asked me into the V.I.P. Room!” Her voice flowed perfectly with the tones of the music, and her carefully lipsticked mouth widened slightly with her eyes to amazement. She very nervously opened the door to the room, looking back one last time towards the people behind her who try to act like they don't notice- but couldn't help but show a mixture of envy and hatred.

Inside the room everything had a glow of blue, and further was three different doors. “Public.. Private.. and Guest.” The girl read them each patiently, but had a sense of awkwardness and confusion towards them. With a very subtle smile, the man tried to cooly respond, his nervousness too was felt. ”I-It's just a formality. Don't really worry though: I um- I have everything taken care of.” Shakingly, he opened the door to the room marked private and tried to gentlemanly gesture her in. Smiling that smile only she could, the girl entered the room still obviously new to the whole situation.

”Wow! It's so big!” The girl's expression once again is very naïve, very amazed by the fame being thrown at her. Her head frantically surveyed the room as the man entered and shut the door behind him. She had every reason to be impressed. The room was huge, it was layed out like a condo that many rent to live in. There was a small kitchen area with its own bar, a bed in the center of the room, and even a bathroom. It was a perfect place to impress someone if that was one's attentions. “There are- are no cameras?” The girl quickly noted, as he nodded smiling again that “nerdish I wish to be cooler” smile. ”It's for our privacy to talk,” He retorted while walking towards the bar, taking a seat while mixing his own drink.

”Perfect! Then let's talk right now!” The girl once again says bubbly, enthusiastically skipping towards the shady nerdy man. Not responding immediately, he turned around smiling towards her with the drinks finished. ”Oooh! Lets start with you.” He nodded as she began to take a sip of her drink- continuing really before he could even start with something he would want to say. ”Why did you ruin my career?” Her voice never changed, but the entire mood in the room changed. He remained silent for a moment, clearly racking his brain for what she could possibly mean before he was once more interrupted. ”Jack, why did you ruin my career? Was it because you were jealous of me? Was it because I was getting too old?” He responded quickly trying to figure out what this girl he never has met before tonight could possibly mean. ”What do you mean? We never-”

”What do you mean?-” The girl interrupted now mimicing Jack's voice perfectly. Stunned, he leaned backwards only to have her lean forwards further carelessly sipping on her drink. ”You really don't know? Let me remind you-” Vividly before Jack as she spoke, the woman's skin on her face was melting inwards, as the face of an elder man became more clear. Breathing heavily for a mere moment, he quickly gritted his teeth, as a smile came over his face masking more about what just happened. ”M-M-Matty?! Matt, is that you?” His astonishment washed all over his face, as Matthew mocked him comically. Speaking now in his clearly natural voice. ”Ah, now there's my Jack. As confused, yet fully dignified as ever.” Matthew smiled very fully, as he seems very composed at the moment. “You're still one of the accountants who is collaborating together for the fiances of 'the Clayface' flick aren't you?” His question coming out very friendly, almost as if he was trying to protect Jack from something.

”Uh-Of-Of course! I am the second lead accountant in charge for making sure there are no overspending in the graphical special effects for the movie Matt, you know that.” He still looks nervous, as he looks Matthew (who still has the body of the woman) from top to bottom. Matthew's expression hasn't changed a bit however, as he still is smiling that full “everything is okay smile.” ”Why- How- I.. How did you do..” Jack's question is quickly silenced with a soft “shh”. ”Your questions will be answered, Jack. But I need to know- WHY DID YOU RUIN MY CAREER?!” Matthew, yelling now, quickly slams Jack's head on the top of the bar with enough force to force the man's head to bend the wood of the bar downward. The glasses that were once awkwardly on the tip of Jack's nose, now shatter upon impact and even awkwardly cuts the side of Jack's left nostril. ”Do you have an answer Jack?” Matthew, still fuming, doesn't even wait for any words to come out of Jack's mouth. After a few grunts, and cries, from the sharp pain, Matthew's right hand grows proportion, and he suddenly grabs Jack by the collar and effortly slings him across the room. His hand fixing back to normal size upon Jack's impact of forcefully ramming against the wall. Almost immediately a scowl comes across Matthew's face, as its clear he grits his teeth from an inward pain. ”I wish I could enjoy this more Jack, however I can live with my answers being ignored. You however- you can not.” A shrug breaks the temper of Matthew before a sick smile comes on his face, ”Maybe the next one will get this right, and give me a reason. I'll still kill them of course, but then it'll be more reminiscent to the way you put me down. Maybe that will be a solace to you, for as the business always said: 'Sometimes others must die, so that you may live.' Oh.. And before I forget- for the rest of our evening together: please refer to me as the Clayface.”

After twenty minutes or so, the door marked with V.I.P opened just as nervously as before. The brunette woman almost with a glowing, yet semi-defeated walk as she left the room. She seemed to be in a much quicker hurry than when she entered, but still made the known decision to smile to the heads that turned to her. As if she wanted them to see her. She even glanced at the camera with that smile, before cautiously, with a tired pleasantry commented to the sea of people like they were all her friends with a goodbye wave. This action was the last anyone saw of her that night, and she has yet to be found since. Jack wasn't seen of course until the morning after that fateful night. His status too gruesome, and gory to repeat, but he was deceased. The beautiful room around him, now was a wreck. A mess that looked to be a result of a chaotic mass destruction.[/ul]

[grimknight]

Given the crime scene rope off throughout the day with the GCPD crawling all over the place—the Bat didn’t show up until it was night, the club closed, lights off. He had listened into the radio call placed to the GCPD about a murder of a Mr. Jack Kepler – the accountant of the soon-to-be-released blockbuster flick, “Clayface” at a night club in the East End known as Syn City. The Bat had his ways of slinking into highly and heavily guarded locations, despite the police cautionary work and security—it was a knack for the World’s Greatest Detective, really. He only truly trusted his own brand of detective work given the crooked handicap the police force seemed to suffer from in Gotham. Of course, it was child’s play for Batman, slipping into the rundown club and bypassing all security angles, now allowing him into the room marked as V.I.P.

It would be in here that the Bat produced a small, high powered flashlight—carefully combing through the scene the GCP detectives had investigated prior… He had to discredit quite a bit of their work due to his own brand of thoroughness and keen eye. He swabbed the table tops, the counter tops, took silent pictures which were immediately uploaded to the supercomputer in the Batcave giving him a good layout of the state the room had been left in. A definite violent struggle went on here… And given his thorough work, he managed to procure a surveillance tape that was over looked and a digital copy of the tapes taken from the cameras on the premise the day of the murder. Observant wouldn’t even begin to describe the way the bat paid attention to detail… He continued to collect evidence, remaining as noiseless and hidden in the dark as possible.