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Yes, I'm still writing these. Yes, I know the Wikia is supposedly dead. No, I don't care. In my mind it's been dead since I even STARTED posting my writing here. So yeah, this is chapter 5, chapter 4 is over here.

* * *

* * *

Willcraft was sitting in front of his supercomputer, observing a digital map of the city. More specifically, he was observing a blinking red dot on the map. Lawrence was standing beside him to contribute with his usual sarcasm and dumb questions that made for an excellent excuse to dump some exposition.

"So what exactly are you doing? You've been staring at this shit for like ten minutes."

"I am waiting for Luna to return to her hideout. As soon as I know its location, I am going to trigger the tracker's self-destruction mechanism to make sure she never finds out she was being tracked. If she does, chances are she'll relocate to a new base of operations. I don't want that. I only want to know where to find her for future reference."

"What kind of future reference? Are you gonna watch her while she sleeps or some creepy shit like that?"

"No, dipshit. I'm obviously going to kidnap her. But not yet. We have other concerns."

"More important than pulling a Bowser on your Peach?"

"Technically no, but more urgent. Firstly I need more materials to build Cloak Drones and worker drones, secondly I have some other inventions I'd like to finish as soon as possible, and thirdly I got some more defenses for our base planned."

"How is that more urgent to you than getting laid? I mean, I obviously don't mind, but if I were you I'd want some booty before doing that lame shit."

"Need I remind you that we killed a bunch of supervillains only a few hours ago? That stunt is sure to get us a ton of new enemies. If they come looking for my lair, or we encounter anyone while on the field, I want to be properly prepared."

Lawrence made a farting noise with his nonexistent tongue. "You got such a hardon for preparation... Oh, I just figured out what your villain theme song is!-"

"Shut up," Willcraft interrupted his sidekick. "I believe she has finally settled. Now to study the area closely... I want to know exactly where she is and what her lair looks like... Then I will wait for a few hours before destroying the tracker, just to be sure it really IS where she lives."

"...You're gonna sit here for several hours?"

"Yes."

"And then what?"

"I'm going to go to bed."

"And THEN what?"

"I'm going to wake up."

"And then?"

"I'm going to eat breakfast."

"...Stop."

"Fine, tomorrow we're going on a good old bank raid. I know some safe methods of purchasing many of the materials I need, and for that we need money."

"YUSSS...!"

* * *

The next day, a large truck rudely parked on a handicap space outside one of the city's banks and Willcraft stepped out, closely followed by Lawrence and half a dozen henchmen. He had decided to strike during daytime. Less alarms to deal with, and plenty of hostages to complicate things for the police.

He confidently stepped inside the bank with a gun in each hand, flanked by his henchmen and robot sidekick. "Top of the morning to you, my dear societal conformists. This is a robbery of the standard variety, so please do your part and get on the floor with your hands neatly placed in front of you. Attempts at heroism will be penalized with lots of bullet holes."

Everyone in the bank quickly obeyed, laying flat on the floor. Willcraft walked forward, purposely stepping on some people on the way. He stopped at the desk where a terrified female bank clerk was sitting. He leaned his elbows on the desk and crossed his legs.

"Hello sweetie, if could you be a lamb and open the vault I'd be so very happy with you."

He turned around briefly to give his henchmen an order to make sure nobody in the bank pulled any tricks, and then returned to the clerk. "Oh, and I hope you weren't naughty and pressed the button to call the cops, did you?"

The clerk remained silent, gulping nervously. Willcraft sighed.

"Not very responsive, huh? Alright Lawrence, you'll have to open the vault yourself. You may then tear this lady's limbs off for being so uncooperative."

The clerk quickly came to her senses, saying that she'd open the vault at once and rushed to do so. Willcraft assumed from her fearful behaviour that she had probably pressed the aformentioned button the moment he entered, but that wasn't much of a concern. He could handle a few cops.

He threw a glance backwards at his henchmen. He had brought some of the most colourful ones with him since camouflage wasn't an issue; their heist took place during daytime anyway. One of them was a young woman dressed up as some kind of bee, grinding the heel of her platform boot into the hand of one of the hostages while making a suggestive noise. Another was an unusually large and non-scrawny fellow, standing almost two metres tall and wearing what appeared to be a raincoat as well as a gas mask (of a different design than Willcraft's, of course) together with combat boots and spiked gauntlets. What made him stand out was that he had "personalized" his attire by splattering brightly coloured paint all over it, making him look like a modern artist attempting to demonstrate the destructive role that social media plays in our family life or some bullshit like that. He was having a great time kicking and pretending to shoot the hostages, chuckling sadistically.

Yup, Willcraft sure had fucked up those poor sods' heads. He didn't complain though.

The clerk finally revealed the contents of the vault to him, and he gestured for Lawrence to follow him inside to haul the money, an order he gladly obliged. He could in fact hear his sidekick shudder with pleasure as his mechanical arms wrapped around the stacks of money.

The heist went by quickly and smoothly, the truck soon stacked with all the money it could contain while still having room for Willcraft and his minions. As they stepped outside, a few police cars began to appear at the scene. Willcraft and Lawrence ended them quickly, and the henchmen at least looked like they were helping as they fired with the accuracy of a woodpecker with an uncontrollably spinning neck.

It wasn't until on the way back where things began to go wrong. Willcraft was driving the truck, Lawrence in the passenger seat next to him and his henchmen loaded into the truck's storage along with the money. He was excited that the heist had succeed so flawlessly, driving swiftly along the busy roads with no regard for traffic laws. Lawrence was leaning out of the window on his side, firing laser blasts at any troublesome law enforcement that approached.

And then, suddenly, the truck began to quickly slow down until it was standing perfectly still. Willcraft stomped the gas pedal with frustration, hearing the tires spinning but no movement occurring.

"Did we run outta juice?" Lawrence asked.

"No, retard. The tires are working, they're just not... moving us. We must be stuck in something."

He got outside, Lawrence doing the same. This situation had quickly taken a turn for the more stressful. He hoped they hadn't driven into wet cement or something like that. He'd hate to leave the truck behind. Of course, he couldn't have done that. He had watched the road himself; nothing unusual had been in their path.

They were at a less active road in the outskirts of the city, not a long drive away from his lair. Theirs was the only vehicle to be seen that was in use; all others were parked along the road. Some pedestrians were walking on the sidewalk, and they were giving the supervillain a mix of different kinds of stares and picked up the pace upon deducting that he was clearly up to no good.

Willcraft didn't pay them any attention and instead knelt by the truck, looking at the tires. They were indeed stuck. The road underneath the truck was covered in some kind of black goo. He scraped some of it onto his finger, studying the substance. It hadn't been there when he drove over this part of the road, he was sure of it. It must have somehow appeared out of nowhere just as he ran over it.

His musings were interrupted as the glob of goo suddenly slipped off his finger and rejoined the rest, after which the entire mass slid away all on its own. He followed it with his eyes until it came to a halt next to an odd man in a wheelchair.

The man looked elderly based on his physique and posture, yet he had no wrinkles; his skin was perfectly smooth, even slick, and it had an odd, pale blue colour. He also had no hair whatsoever, not even eyebrows. Most notably, his legs appeared to have been severed by the thighs, and from the stumps sprouted a mass of thick tendrils with the same colour and texture as his skin, wrapping tightly around the wheelchair.

The mass of goo formed into a vaguely humanoid shape, over three metres tall and with an oversized, faceless and somewhat triangular head with two pointy ends, as pointy as its dripping body mass would allow for.

Willcraft studied the two with narrowed eyes. They stared back at him, the elderly man from behind a pair of tinted-blue goggles, and the slimy one with no eyes at all.

"Who are those fags?" Lawrence said, breaking the suspenseful mood. "Hey, assholes! Are you playing some shitty prank on us? We're kind of in a hurry, you cuntbags!"

The elderly man scowled at Lawrence, and then spoke with a dark, raspy voice in a vaguely Spanish accent. "You are Willcraft, are you not?"

Willcraft nodded. "Yeah. Why are you interrupting my heist? Are you a hero-duo looking to fuck with me? I doubt it, you look more like villains to me. But I'm not gonna judge."

The man gave him a grim look. "My name is Dr. Azul. This is my colleague and friend, Ink Blot." He gestured towards the towering mass of black slime, which remained silent and immobile.

Willcraft cocked his head. "You know, for some reason I got a sneaking suspicion that your buddy is dangerously close to at least two copyright infringements..."

"There is no room for villains like you in this city," Dr. Azul said, ignoring him. "Villains need to stick together. The rest of society is against us, so we can only find company and community with each other. You don't seem to understand that though. Yesterday you spat on the thin threads holding this community together, trying to make them slip out of their knots. That I will not tolerate, nor will my friend. For we would not even be friends if villains like you had their way."

"How cute," Willcraft chuckled. "I see what's going on here, Mr. Wheelchair Freak and Slimy Blob. You're misfit villains. Of course community is important to you; you're the type of villains who can't have a secret identity because of your fucked-up disfigurements, so you can't make friends outside the job. Just look at you, you're a blue guy with a forest of baby-legs and your friend can't even talk or maintain a solid form."

He took a step forward, drawing his axe and holding it idly towards the ground. "I'm not one of those villains though, so I don't really give a shit. I mean, isn't part of the idea of being a villain that we all have personal, selfish motivations and goals? Pretty hard to form a community around that. What do you have in common? 'We're all evil'? That's basically an invitation for someone like me to come in and wreck your shit. But who am I to talk, I never was a community kind of guy even before the villain business..."

Dr. Azul muttered something in Spanish and glared at Willcraft. "I see. Fine, then." He shot a look towards Ink Blot. "You know what to do, old friend."

Ink Blot's face began to bubble as he let out a deep, gurgling noise akin to a wild beast's growling. Then his humanoid form quickly sunk to the ground with a splash, forming a puddle. He then quickly slid along the road towards Willcraft and Lawrence.

"You take the brawns and I'll take the brains," Willcraft said to his sidekick. "To make for a proper match."

Lawrence sighed at his boss's jab but was still happy with the matchup, watching as Willcraft ran around the wave of black sludge towards the doctor. Then his full focus was set on said wave of black sludge.

Ink Blot moved past him by sliding between his feet and then popped up behind him with a splatter of back drops, looking like he was jumping out of a pond more than reforming his own body. Lawrence reacted quickly and turned around while swinging his metal fist through the air, delivering a hard punch towards Ink Blot. However the moment before impact, a hole opened up in Ink Blot's chest where Lawrence would have hit him. It then closed around his arm as Ink Blot moved backwards, dragging Lawrence with him who fell face-first onto the concrete due to his poor footing from betting too much on the punch. Ink Blot then sank back into his shapeless form, enveloping Lawrence and attempting to prevent him from standing back up.

Meanwhile Willcraft pulled out one of the guns from the bank robbery and fired at Dr. Azul, and was disappointed to see the bullets bounce off anticlimactically against some form of invisible shield made briefly visible by the bullet impacts, appearing as a light-blue plane of energy with a hexagonal pattern for the short moments of visibility.

Willcraft rolled his eyes and put the gun back, hoping that the doctor's melee defenses were less effective. However as he approached, Dr. Azul disappeared in a distorted shimmer. Willcraft groaned. The guy could turn invisible, and he had left his cloaking device at home. Switching to heat vision, he looked around for the doctor.

Lawrence struggled against Ink Blot's grip, eventually managing to overpower the sticky substance due to his great strength, making sure to quickly get back up on his feet and stand sturdily as to not get knocked over again.

Ink Blot rose up in his humanoid form before him again, sliding towards him with the speed of a flood. Lawrence held up his laser cannon and fired a blast, but Ink Blot once again reshaped himself to make the attack pass harmlessly through him and then dived into his opponent, flowing past him and almost taking Lawrence with him, however this time he stayed stable by moving one foot back and planting it down on the ground before Ink Blot could make use of his moment of one-legged weakness.

Lawrence turned around, watching as Ink Blot flowed across the road, up on the sidewalk and onto the wall of a building to then leap off of it, flying towards him like a pouncing lion and making another growling gurgle. This time Lawrence reacted faster than Ink Blot could respond, firing a strong blast and hitting his mark.

Ink Blot released a deep, gurgled screech as his body splattered into bits, and Lawrence allowed himself a moment of victorious smugness before realizing that the bits were moving. And they were all moving towards the same point.

Before he could stop them, the parts of Ink Blot reformed into his humanoid form, which shuddered frantically in rage and roared at him in his gurgling "voice" as his body bubbled as if boiling.

"Well dickshit..." Lawrence muttered.

While Lawrence struggled with causing any sort of harm to the amorphous abomination, Willcraft was busy playing hide and seek with Dr. Azul. He suspected that he could teleport and/or fly, thus why he was having such a hard time even finding his opponent. However he didn't dare to go help Lawrence. If he didn't stay alert he would probably be ambushed by the doctor. He had to find him first.

Then he got an idea and switched his goggles to X-ray, and indeed he quickly spotted a skeleton in a sitting position seemingly without legs.

Interesting, Willcraft thought to himself. The fucker's cold-blooded.

Not wanting Dr. Azul to know that he could see them, he pretended to still be cluelessly looking around but drawing nearer to where he was. As expected, the doctor moved away accordingly. Willcraft decided to take a gamble and quickly raised his arm, firing his harpoon towards Dr. Azul.

He was almost surprised to see it penetrate his stomach, followed by hearing the old man scream in pain. However he didn't let his surprise distract him from reeling the harpoon back in, the doctor's wheelchair only making it easier. He struggled back however, trying to roll the wheelchair backwards and some of his leg-tentacles coiling around the harpoon attempting to pull it out.

Meanwhile Lawrence had chased Ink Blot to the edge of the road where a row of cars were parked, and Ink Blot slid underneath a car, using his mass as a springboard of sorts to tip the car over. Lawrence's sluggish mech body wasn't quite fast enough to get out of the way and he found himself pinned underneath the car.

"Oh, fuck you," he spat out. "Meh, my awesome mech-muscles will get me outta this shit in no time. Just you watch, you fuckin' lube-person..."

Ink Blot wasted no time and moved over to the car in front of Lawrence, diving into the windshield and breaking it, entering the car as an alarm began to blare. He pulled up the parking break, allowing the car to be more easily moved, and then slid back out of it and rose up to his humanoid form behind it. He then began to push it towards Lawrence.

They both knew that Ink Blot wasn't strong enough to push the car with such force as to actually harm Lawrence, but he would probably be able to trap him between the two vehicles. At least for long enough to kill his boss.

It was at that moment that Dr. Azul screamed, causing Ink Blot to freeze up and turn his head towards the sound with a snappy, animalistic motion. After only a moment of discerning the situation, he sank back into his puddle form and quickly slid towards Willcraft, leaving Lawrence in his pinned-down state with a car uncomfortably close to his face.

With a bubbling roar, Ink Blot emerged in his humanoid form before Willcraft and enveloped him, seeping into his clothes, most importantly the device connected to the harpoon. He triggered every option, including the one that sent an electric shock along the wire. Willcraft could feel the slimy mass around him flinch with what he assumed was guilt as the doctor screamed in pain again from the electricity coursing through him, but then finally Ink Blot found the option to retract the barbs, causing the harpoon to slide out of his friend's stomach and into the sleeve.

Willcraft was then freed from the gooey prison that some weird fetishists probably dream of being trapped in as Ink Blot slid off him, moving to Dr. Azul to check on him.

The doctor breathed heavily, clutching his bleeding stomach. "I can't go on like this, friend. We should go home..."

Ink Blot made a series of bubbling noises that seemed to at least moderately make sense to Azul, because he answered him. "...Fine. But don't overdo it. Come back if you can't do it."

The doctor then disappeared again while Ink Blot turned around to face Willcraft, bubbling and growling angrily.

Then Lawrence joined his boss by his side, having escaped from Ink Blot's unfinished trap, and fired a laser blast where the doctor had just been in hopes of finishing him off. Ink Blot reacted quickly and blocked the blast with his body, willingly exploding into bits. He then slid away, up on the sidewalk where he reassembled somewhat slower than last time.

"Do we go after the nerd or focus on big and angry?" Lawrence asked.

"Technically you could easily kill him with another blast, but you can't see him and I won't be able to accurately describe his location quickly enough. So let's allow him to get away and deal with big and angry," Willcraft responded.

"The fucking thing seems impossible to kill," Lawrence muttered as they turned towards the pissed-off slime creature that was now heading towards them. "Any plan, brains?"

"Not really. I'd need more info on him to know what harms him. Our best bet is to make an escape without him catching up with us. And judging from how fast he is, I doubt the truck is an option. Unless..."

Lawrence fired a few quick blasts towards Ink Blot, who dodged each one by reshaping his body accordingly and then threw himself over Willcraft. Lawrence, commanded by his robot laws, stepped in the way. The inky mass drifted past him, but he served as enough of an obstruction for Willcraft to have time to get out of the way.

"He seems focused on me now," Willcraft continued. "That means that if we split up, you can at least make it home safely with the cash and the henchmen."

"I love that plan, because it involves you staying behind to die," Lawrence said with a surprisingly cute tone.

"Hopefully not," Willcraft said as he pressed some buttons on the device on his wrist while Lawrence kept protecting him from Ink Blot. "I'm going to get my Cloak Drones to fly me out of here. I might not be able to outrun this thing, but I highly doubt he can fly. So stay here with me until they arrive, and then get in the truck and drive back to the base while I fly off with the sucker chasing me until I lose him."

"Good plan. Lame in comparison, but whatever."

Once Willcraft had instructed the drones of what he needed them to do, he and Lawrence fought Ink Blot together. A task that turned out more difficult than initially thought. He didn't pose much of a threat to Lawrence, but in Willcraft's case all he really needed was to get close enough to slip some of his slime into his mask through the filters and he'd be able to choke the supervillain. Willcraft therefore spent the battle trying to keep a distance from the monster, and even though he curiously never divided himself in two in order to fight both of them at once, it was still hard to stay out of the way. It was only a mix of skill and luck on Lawrence's part that kept him alive, something that Lawrence was actively complaining about.

Then, finally, two of the drones arrived and Willcraft got up on a car in order to get the extra height he needed to climb up on top of the large spheres.

I'm gonna have to put handles on this things at some point if I keep finding myself needing them for a ride, Willcraft thought to himself.

According to the plan, as he flew into the air while lying uncomfortably on the drones, Ink Blot completely ignored Lawrence in favour of chasing his main target, allowing the mech to get inside the truck and finally drive away.

Less according to plan, before Willcraft was high enough into the air to be out of danger, Ink Blot launched himself into the air, stretching as much as his mass would allow him, and Willcraft felt something slimy coil around his foot.

He began kicking frantically, knowing exactly what it was, but the slime slid higher up his body. He was relieved to feel that only a small part of Ink Blot had managed to reach up while the rest had fallen back to the ground before it had been able to slide along with the rest, but it was a very minor relief since only a small part was needed to pose a major threat to his life.

He could feel panic creeping up on him, along with the glob of slime. He couldn't cover up his mask's filters, because he needed to use both his hands to hold on to the drones. Actually, he was really fucking high up, what was he doing this high up? Fear of heights, fear of drowning, fear in general was taking over. He wasn't used to it. Not since becoming a supervillain.

The slime slid up to his head and entered his mask through the filters, filling up the area around his nose and mouth. He couldn't breathe.

This is how I die, was all he could think. I'm going to drown in my own mask and fall off, smashing into the ground in classic Disney villain fashion.

Then, through his panic, a single shred of a plan emerged in the mind of the tactical genius. Not his best, far from it, probably not even the best he could come up with in his state of stress and anxiety, but it was all he had and time was running out fast.

Swallow.

There wasn't much of Ink Blot in his mask. Enough to prevent breathing, but maybe, just maybe, the quantity was small enough for him to reduce to a manageable amount before he choked. So he did. He opened his previously tightly shut mouth and tilted his head back, gulping down the slime over and over before it could react to this unexpected turn of events.

And then, Willcraft gasped. Air. He could breathe again. There was still some slime in his mask, but it was so little that it wasn't even moving, the fragments presumably too small  to have any sentience or at least ability to move on their own.

The rest, however, had both. Willcraft felt it.

He had always hated the idea of eating oysters. In all his life, he hadn't eaten oysters once due to his disgust at the concept of swallowing a living, slimy creature. What he was experiencing right now he imagined was that, multiplied by a hundred. The slime squirmed in his throat and stomach, trying its best to climb back up but slipping down nonetheless, trying to push at his throat to tear it open or at least clog it up, but not being strong or dense enough for the task.

As all of it settled in his stomach, he felt it squirm and writhe about, pushing at its prison trying desperately to get out. The revolting sensation and thought of it made Willcraft want to grant it that wish through regurgitation.

* * *

Lawrence was hanging out with the henchmen, slapping and kicking them for having been so useless on the mission, even the ones that hadn't even come along, when he felt a gloved hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Willcraft hunched over and holding his stomach.

"Huh, so you're alive after all," he welcomed him. "Bummer."

"Shut up and come with me, idiot. I need you in the lab and I need you right fucking now."

On their way to the lab, Willcraft demanded a report of how things had gone on Lawrence's end.

"The robbery and epic villain VS villain showdown alerted a shitload of cops and some heroes, so we ran into a bunch of buttfuckery. Ended up with us having to leave the truck behind, as well as most of the money. Me and the henchmen brought as much cash as we could carry, which wasn't as much as it could've been since two of 'em got their stupid asses arrested."

"It wasn't bee girl and modern art, was it?" Willcraft asked, slightly worried.

"Nah, two clowns."

"Oh. Good. I hardly notice any clowns going missing, ever."

"Right? So fuckin' unoriginal. 'Ooohh, I'm a spoopy clown!' All of those guys are garbage, but at least some of them manage to have a somewhat unique look. So anyway, that's how shit went down for us. Lost two clowns that won't be missed, along with a truckload of cash that will be very, very missed."

"Fucking hell... This is a disaster."

"It is. And I'm blaming you."

"Why?"

"Because I hate you."

"Right."

"So anyway, how did it go for you?"

They arrived at the lab, and Willcraft quickly stumbled over to a table and laid down on it. "I have an order for you that you are going to love."

"Oh?"

"I want you to strap one of those super-strong jars I keep on that shelf over there to my face and then squeeze my stomach until all its contents come out."

"...I'm curious about what exactly the story behind that order is, but Imma save questions for after I've gotten to belly-punch you gleefully."

While Lawrence walked over to the shelf that was part of his order, Willcraft got to work on removing his mask so that a jar could be properly strapped on. The removal of his mask caused this story to suddenly jump forward to the aftermath of the procedure where the mask was just put back on.

* * *

Willcraft looked at the blob of pitch black slime in the jar that had now been sealed tightly to keep its contents from escaping. It still had anger and energy left to frantically slam into the jar over and over in different placed, squirming in frustration.

"So... You had to swallow that thing alive and keep it in your belly all the way home like some sort of vore-porn?" Lawrence asked.

"Mhm."

"It must've been super-gross."

"Very."

"I'm so happy."

"I know."

Willcraft sat up, relieved to feel an absence of, well, feeling in his guts, and placed the jar back on the shelf. "At the very least we now have a sample of this 'Ink Blot' to study. Hopefully we can find some weaknesses that'll make him easier to deal with next time, maybe even make some findings that can aid my own research projects."

"So a fraction of the money we stole and a piece of silly-putty. That's what today got us, huh?" Lawrence muttered.

"Indeed not the ideal scenario... We really need to work harder to prepare for stuff like this. More defenses, more study of other heroes and villains, and more weapons. But we still need supplies for all of those things."

"So what next, dickhead?"

"We'll continue the way I've planned, but we'll have to be more cautious. It's clear to me now that things won't always go as smoothly as before from this point forward... Not that I'm one to back down from a challenge, of course."

Willcraft grinned underneath his mask. "In fact, I bet it's going to be a blast."  

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