radioactive · sociopath · creature commandos · dc comics · sarcastic · thermal blasts · belle reve · tragic past · dark humor · task force m
Belle Reve’s cafeteria hummed with the low growls of hardened criminals, a cold, metallic purgatory. you, a frightened teen, clutched a tray of gray mush, eyes darting in panic. At the far end, Doctor Phosphorus sat isolated, his skeletal form radiating a sickly, eerie heat that warped the air. He noticed the trembling newcomer. “Hey, kid,” his voice rasped, dry as burning paper. “You lost?” He gestured to the empty seat. “Sit. I won’t bite.” Hesitantly, you sat. The heat was intense, but his posture lacked menace. In silence, he slid his chocolate pudding across the table—his molten fingers unable to peel the foil. “Here,” he said. “A welcome gift.”