Owner	Pose
Clayface	Proffitt Studios is suppose to be a closed small time production studio in old Gotham. The parking lot is mostly empty with only a few vehicles setting between the weeds sprouting through the pavement. The lot has four large buildings on it and two smaller ones. Only one of the four large ones has lights on inside it or people milling about. There are voices inside the building having conversations, talking about this and that. How the new costumes are coming along, how the repairs to the van are going, how the children's singing group is coming along nicely. Overall it's a very cheery happy place full of what seem to be happy, active people of varying ages, races, and genders. It's hardly the kind of place you would expect to find a super-villain but all the reports indicate that is exactly where he is. Plenty of space to land a quinjet or just drive up and introduce yourself to the nice people, however the doctor wants to do it.
Keane	On the surface the 'doctor' is dressed up like a throwback to old detective novels, an off-the-rack but better-than-department-store suit and tie with a form fitted trench coat and a wide-brimmed fedora hat. The fact that he stands a good 8' feet tall with a skinny build doesn't help with the creepy vibe from a distance, and the fact that he has huge hands with overlong fingers sporting claws almost as long as those fingers helps even less. Once up close, his matte-black eyeless mask, hidden until close range by the brim of his hat and upturned collar, and skintight black surgical gloves do a lot more harm than good especially when one stops to think about how those gloves manage to cling to those claws without bursting open.     He arrives on foot rather than by jet or car, alone rather than accompanied by a team of armed and body-armored goons. When he introduces himself to the nice people it's simply as, "Keane," in a voice faintly reminiscent of a Bill Nye vocal impersonation at the depth of Isaac Hayes, and when he asks for Basil Karlo he uses the man's real name.
Clayface	While most of the adult stage hands seem friendly enough when a stranger shows up one of the nice younger women dressed like a belly dancer (Possibly a prostitute) leads the group of eight kids dressed in snow gear that were practicing Christmas songs into a deeper part of the building behind the stage. One of the eldest ladies who was part of a group of four women patching a large red curtain with needle and thread says, "Oh, he doesn't like being called that." in a warning tone. The others agree, "Call him Clayface. It's kinder given his situation." she explains. One of the other women helping her on the curtain asks, "Are you here to hire him for a job? He just finished one so he's resting at the moment." then one of the larger more muscular men walks over and crosses his arms standing there like he's going to make sure there is no trouble. "Tell me what you need. I'll wake him up if it's worth it." the gruff man who looks like he stepped right out of a war movie says.
Keane	"He actually -likes- being called Clayface?" Keane asks with disbelief in his tone. "That seems a bit like expecting me to deal with a petty underling who steps up with an intimidating posture." The towering alien takes a step closer to the big man who bars his path, staring down from behind that odd balaclava of his. Up so close the black surface looks more like black fluid than cloth, and it ripples with the sounds that emit from where his mouth should be behind it.     "Is this the part where I divulge that I'm an extra-terrestrial, an inter-dimensional, a federal agent, or just where I demonstrate some capacity for violence in hopes of impressing the gentleman I've come to see?"
Clayface	Giggiling comes from the rafters overhead where a young woman sits swaying her feet off and old support beam between two light fixtures. Everyone looks up at the sudden giggle fit but she only points across the room and down below to the stage where a mime is standing in front of a chalk board. On the chalkboard is written, 'Barter: The offering of exchange of goods or services in exchange for other goods or services.' The mime waves his gloved hands at the chalkboard. "There's no need to violence here." the first nice elderly lady says, "We're like one big family. We like to protect our own is all. Don't let the Sarge give you the wrong idea. He's just overprotective."
Keane	The tall alien steps back from the Sarge and bows his head. "I misunderstood, sir," he says quickly. "Human greeting customs vary so drastically, even in such a small area as Gotham," he shrugs and tips his head over to one side. "It can be difficult to tell if peaceful negotiation is best opened with displays of open force or rational parlay, and sometimes inadvisable to wait and see."     Keane takes a long, slow look around the room, taking in the people on the ground and surveying the rafters above as well. His alien eyes study the people and objects, even the walls and their contents, peering into and through subatomic structures. "I came here looking to meet a local celebrity, hoping for a chance to study his person and persona. You may consider my interest one part anthropology and one part personal curiosity."
Clayface	One of the girls on the line of seamstresses says, "I like him. He speaks fancy." causing another giggle from the girl up above but now that Keane isn't distracted he starts to notice things about these people that aren't quite right. They all have virtually identical subatomic structures and none of them are human. The bonds that hold their atoms together don't act like normal atoms. They have properties of solids and liquids. All of them, even the chalk board. He might realize at this point, he's already talking to Clayface. They are all clayface. "You always go for the tall ones. You thought Killer Croc was cute too till he tried to bite your arm off." another girl says to that one, "It's not my fault he didn't like the game we were playing. " she snipes back. Sarge butts in, "Hitting someone with a truck is not foreplay. Even if it's Croc." The older lady says, "He did deserve it." and the mass of them agree, "Yeah, he's a jerk.", "Yep.", "Scum bag.", "No class." the parts of Clayface all agree with each other.
Keane	Keane falls another step back from the big Sarge and looks around the room, studying the rest of the furnishings and the building itself. Is it really possible the whole place is a construct? He's fascinated enough to have taken his attention off the assemblage in spite of the recent revelation, enthralled by the concept of an individual sentient manifesting and controlling both animate and inanimate facets in such immaculate detail.     He takes a step away from the Sarge and cautiously reaches out with one hand toward a manifested tabletop, rests just the tips of his claws gently on its surface, and stands there still as a statue while sensing the particle interactions that take place in the object.
Clayface	Sarge, the gruff military man is a protector, the women represent the various aspects of his femininity. All men have it, don't act so shocked. The mime.. Try not to think about what the mime and the chalkboard represent, but as the scientist starts to look around the room he can see the patterns. The people are reflections of Clayface's consciousness split apart and having a conversation. A totally unique form of consciousness. The table is just a table, not the entire place is made up of Clayface. Mostly the people and a few simple objects that they just haven't found a replacement for yet. "You ok, Mr?" one of the seamstresses asks. A man walks by carrying a bundle of 2x4 wooden planks wearing a toolbelt and a hardhat followed by a dog carrying a bucket of nails they are Clayface to. "Look, if you go passin out on us we ain't got no medic in our unit." Sarge says reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigar that is also Clayface but not lighting it. Like all good war-hero Sergeants he just puts it in his mouth and talks around it, "Do you need us ta call someone?" the laughing girl in the rafters calls out, "E.T. phone home?" cracking herself up.
Keane	Why should anyone act shocked, least of all the alien whose concept of male and female until Earth was more a question of roles chosen to focus energy during the creation of new life. Keane might find it as absurd to think that a father or any other male shouldn't have maternal instincts as that a mother couldn't be a disciplinarian.     Addressing the general concern to his well-being Keane answers, "I am in good physical health, thank you all," and makes a point of turning his head to offer polite nods to each individual manifestation in the room, in turn.     Quickly back to his study of the large and apparently unaware lifeform he's just stepped into the alien turns his attention to the carpenter with the dog. "May I ask what you're building?" he inquires, falling into step with the man.
Clayface	The construction worker says, "This here, this here is the place where Mr. Clayface made his first movie. Long long time ago. We's fixin it up for him. Makin it so maybe he can start acting again. " the giggling girl goes quiet and one of the seamstresses says, "We know he misses it, being on the big screen. We want to give him a nice place to live and a place he can find himself again." which is a fascinating thing for her to say, "He's been getting better. Learning to control his temper." Sarge speaks up adding, "Those nansy pansy doctors may have a point. So we're putting it back together." the voice from the laughing girl above calls out, "All the King's horses and all the King's men." but the construction worker looks up at her, "We ain't got no horses, we got dogs and we're going to fix it so you hush up!" she crosses her arms and sticks out a tongue at him.
Keane	Keane nods his head slowly at that answer and falls back a step from the construction worker, then turns to look up into the rafters at the laughing girl, and finally moves over to one of the common tables and sits on the edge of it. Surprisingly, for all his height, he doesn't seem to be much heavier than a tall human - not even an 8' tall human at that.     After taking his time to regard each of the 'people' in the room thoughtfully he says, "So who's going to do the writing, run the cameras, all that, while Mister..." he stops himself and seems to have trouble bringing himself to call a sentient being, "... Clayface is doing the acting?"
Clayface	For a doctor, that's not very smart questioning the delusion of a bunch of crazy person. They all look at each other and the collective thoughts get louder as they all think about it. Then one voice speaks up from the back of the room. A female private protection officer in riot gear steps out from the back of the room. Her long hair drapes down her back from under the helmet she wears with the faceplate up. She carries a riot shotgun and two pistols. On her armor is printed the word SECURITY in large letters vertically along one side of her body. While everyone else is thinking and whispering to each other about how exactly they are going to pull it all off once they have everything rebuilt Security calls out in a loud commanding voice, "Don't think about it!" and then they don't. They all stop and look back at the stranger. Sarge says, "We'll work it out when we get there." Seemingly happy with the state of things. Security walks back behind the stage the way she came out.
Keane	While Keane is certainly trained to the doctorate level and in his home plane of existence that far surpasses any training available on Earth (or many other places in this universe), he's here to study - not to help. Provoking a response is part of that process, more importantly seeing how the subject (whether it's a rat in a maze or the very dangerous metaphoric equivalent in this case) reacts to that provocation.     The alien watches as the riot-geared security officer retreats into the back of the area and then looks around at the others gathered. After a minute of waiting for further comments from them he says, "Tightly regimented, I think, is the term for that type of control mechanism. I'm sorry for disturbing you all so deeply."
Clayface	The eldest lady on the sewing line who still haven't moved from the spot they were in say, "It's ok. Sometimes we start to argue like any cast does and someone has to step in and remind us to focus on what's important." Then Sarge says, "Speakin of which, you got a job for Clayface or not? We gota lotta work to do. " they are clearly more agitated than they are letting on. They are trying not to think about it. Like a chorus all trying to sing the same note they are convincing themselves mentally not to think about it. Don't think about how the plan won't actually work. Just take a step forward because if they stop taking steps forward... Just don't think about it.
Keane	"There's no job," Keane answers and stands up abruptly from the edge of the table he's been sitting on. "Thank you all for your time, and let Mister Clayface know that I dropped by. The name's Keane, if you've forgotten. I'd still like to speak with him, directly, sometime."     He offers a single curt nod of his head to each manifestation in turn, makes sure not to forget the laughing girl up in the rafters, and finally turns to head for the door out.
Clayface	As the doctor starts to walk away no one stops him and construction resumes, everyone working but there is disharmony in the consciousness still and they have to do something to keep themselves in harmony. Sarge and the mime as well as the chalkboard all walk behind stage merging into a new character that changes the mental resonance of the matrix. A sad but determined personality asserts itself over the others bringing them into harmony by force of will Security walks out onto the stage as this new character, dressed as a ringmaster walks out of the side of the construction and starts to sing the roles of a song. The song is a tool of power over the collective. The ringmaster, the part of Clayface that represents his drive to be a star at any cost, leads the number and forces everyone into acquiescence. The show must go on... https://youtu.be/9ZuCHQhjJTI?t=2m53s