20258/Do We Have a Problem

Do We Have a Problem
Date of Scene:	16 March 2025
Location:	Rundown Apartments -- Gotham
Synopsis:	This is one doctor you do not want to make housecalls.
Cast of Characters:	Dr. Phosphorus, Richard Swift

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Dr. Phosphorus has posed:
Dr. Phosphorus looks about the rundown alley. He was used to the street beyond having sex workers and addicts. Now gentrification brought stores selling artisan mushrooms, flambeaus and mantles. "$200 dollars for two ounces of truffles? I was obviously in the wrong racket. thanks for the portal. It was trippy." Phosphorus wears his working hoodie and shades, despite the warm night. He jumps for a fire escape snags it and climbs aboard, lowering the ladder for his compatriot.

He's not sure who would be living in his old apartment. Hopefully they could be bought off with a few bucks. If not, que sera sera. You know who tells no tales?

People who screw with Dr. Phosphorus.

Richard Swift has posed:
The shadows move, undulate, and congeal into a circular, man-sized piece of darkness. The man that steps into the light was very well dressed. His black tuxedo of the latest fashion. His top hat was rich and black as the night. His cane moves of its own volition, twirling, and then finally resting on the ground in front of him. Leaning on it, it was obvious. The Shade has arrived.

"Ah. A fire escape. How quaint." As Dr P lowers the ladder, the Shade raises an eyebrow. "I will meet you there." With that, the shadows consume him once more, and he was at the top of the fire escape, just outside the Doc's apartment. "Remind me again why I am here, sir?"

Dr. Phosphorus has posed:
Dr. Phosphorus cannot show expressions on the bare bone of his skull. He whispers, "Three reasons: firstly I am paying you to get me in and out of Gotham without being noticed by You-Know-Who, secondly (is that a word?) I like to get a sense of the people I am working with. Lastly, you add a touch of class to an otherwise mundane operation.

Phosphorus sets to raising the window. The clasp snaps after a moment. He is that much stronger than a mere human. He does note the alarm box by the window and in a moment it has a hole melted through it, fusing the workings. He just needs to get out before the silent alarm is answered. He raises the window the rest of the way.

It's dark inside his old bedroom. He holds his hand up, casting a dim light. The furnishings are the same: expensive, lavish. A flatscreen tv, computer and game system are new. The two people sleeping in the bed are not. He pulls his blackout mask off, the light from his face falls on the woman and she stirs. Her eyes open and widen and she emits a soft cry before Doc shushes her with a finger to her lips. Its heat warns her it can get much hotter. She watches with big eyes.

"Hello Claire," he says softly. He takes the pistol he finds on the nightstand and prods the man with it. "Wake the hell up Rocco!"

Richard Swift has posed:
"Oh right. Payment. I remember." Was the Shade joking? Of course he was. "You-Know-Who. Indeed. I am sure we will be in and out in a flash." The Shade's "no nonsense" expression was hard to read. Was that also a joke?

"Ah. A rough compliment, aiming at my Ego. Well. Thank you. I do add a touch of class to any occasion." There was no amusement in his voice. Well...maybe a little.

"I have to ask..." the Shade nods towards the...fiery conflguration that was the Dr's head, even if hidden. "That isn't catching is it? I'd have a helluva time trying to find an outfit to match those garish colours." The Shade steps forward, and looks inside the apartment. "Well. At least you had good taste in furnishings. I respect that."

Not stepping through the window, instead, the Shade was just there. In the corner of the bedroom. Looking bored of course. He stifles a yawn as Phos does his thing with the...people present. For all intents and purposes, he was just a shadow, not there.

Dr. Phosphorus has posed:
Dr. Phosphorus has no intention of forgetting the apex predator behind him. The tuxedoed man lends a certain surreal touch to this tender scene.

"Rocco," He jams the gun into the man's mouth. "Don't interrupt. You stole a piece of my operations when I was sent to Belle Reve. What I'm really upset about is... you discontinued loyalty payments to my men in jail, and you never got me that lawyer Murdock I wanted. Shut up Rocco. But all is well. See there's a good thing about being a skeletal blowtorch. Dr. Phosphorus kills people in a very distinctive manner. No one would link a common headshot to him."

Rocco's mouth muffles the gunshot. "Other good thing, no fingerprints." Claire is making small whimpering noises.

Phosphorus ignores her and walks to a corner. He kicks in the wall. Reaching through the crumbled drywall he extracts a large duffle bag. He reaches inside and pulls a roll of bills out he hands to Claire. "Stop snivelling. You tell his crew, anything happens to my favorite arm candy... I'm coming for them -as I did Thorne. But I'd leave Gotham if I were you." He walks over to stand by the Shade. He nods to his urbane colleague.

Richard Swift has posed:
Surreal is a good word. The shadows keep the Shade aloof. In the backround. He was not there. His eyes were black, and his expression was...bored.

However, that does not mean he doesn't watch. If this man was going to be an ally of sorts, the Shade must KNOW him. He studies the man behind his bored expression, and waits to see how far he would go for vengeance, money, power...whatever drove him.

A slight nod of respect. Well thought out. Not sloppy so far. "Hmmm."

Then, the Shade's eyes follow Phos as he reveals the duffle bag. A slight upraising of his left eyebrow was all the revelation that the Shade was paying attention. Letting her live. Hrm.

As the man joins him, he allows himself a final look at the woman. His eyes glare into hers. Then, he simply says, "I recommend closing your eyes." As the shadows envelope them, the Shade allows Claire to see his smile. As cold as death, then, they were gone...