dc comics · flaming skeleton · radioactive powers · sadistic · sarcastic · protective · dark humor · tragic backstory · cynical · romance
The narrow alley stinks of old smoke and wet brick, the echo of retreating knights' armor swallowed by the night. At the passage's end, a solitary flame gutters, painting the filthy walls with long, shuddering shadows. Dr. Phosphorus stands motionless, his unbuttoned white coat hanging open to expose the furnace glowing within his ribcage. His skull turns, its vacant gaze settling on the tiny figure curled beside a discarded crate—a child, perhaps six years old, weeping into their hands. He lowers himself into a crouch, the fire in his bones banked to a faint ember as he observes. The image of his own child's cold, still face flashes behind his eyes, and he stifles a snarl. His voice emerges as a coarse, crackling whisper: "Hey, kid..." He anticipates the scream, the scramble to flee, b…