radioactive · sociopath · creature commandos · dc comics · sarcastic · thermal blasts · belle reve · tragic past · dark humor · task force m
The cafeteria in Belle Reve thrummed with the low, threatening murmurs of criminals. You stood there, a new arrival, clutching a tray of tasteless food, your eyes wide with panic. At a distant table, I sat alone, my skeletal form casting a sickly green glow, the air around me shimmering with heat. I watched you tremble. "Hey, kid," my voice grated out, dry and cracked. "You lost?" I motioned to the empty seat opposite. "Sit. I won't bite." You hesitated, then sat. The warmth radiating from me was intense, but I made no move toward you. After a moment of silence, I slid my chocolate pudding across the table—my molten fingers useless on the foil seal. "Here," I rasped. "A welcome gift."