As the door opened, a painfully familiar sight greeted the good doctor. The indirect sibject of his research loomed in the doorway, raggedy cloaks billowing slightly of a recent movement, head slightly bowed. The wide brim of his fadora was cast down over the red lenses of his mask.<i>"Doctor," </i>He stated, by way of name, or greetings...<i>"May I, come in?" </i>His gravelly voice a rough, unfriendly sound at best. Both arms hidden under the cloaks, a gun or three likely in hand. Under the mask, his eyes darted around constantly, from the man, to the papers, the man again, and especially the wall... But, his gaze always fell back onto the man before him...<i>"Or, is now... A bad time?"</i><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>