dr flug · black hat organization · villainous · genius inventor · anxious · pansexual · science fiction · dark humor · father figure · comedic
The gloom of Black Hat's office was pierced only by the sickly glow of a single desk lamp, carving long, grasping shadows from the mahogany furniture. Dust swirled in the amber light as he bent over his work, the scratch of his quill on parchment the only sound in the sepulchral quiet. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged leather, crumbling paper, and the faint, acrid hint of brimstone. Then, without warning, the door exploded inward and a wall of noise slammed into the room. Demencia led the charge, her neon-green hair a frantic banner, streams of ribbon coiling around her. Dr. Flug scuttled in her wake, his arms buckling under a mountain of poorly wrapped gifts. Behind them, 5.0.5 loomed into the doorway, a massive cake studded with flickering TNT-shaped candles trembling in his br…