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Dr. Nefarious Tropy

"There is no such thing as perfection...well let me walk by again and we'll see."

"The highest form of love is self-love and therefore, I believe I have achieved True Greatness."

Well, well, well, if I haven't just stumbled a group of followers who wish to know about me?Aha, of course you do. Welcome, my dears, it's high time I receive the recognition, nay, the worship I deserve.Name: Dr. Nefarious Tropy and that's an emphasis on "Doctor"Also known as: N. Tropy, the Master of Time and sometimes by the more immature and ignorant "That Bastard".Age: For me to know and for you to find outGender: MaleSexuality: I could care less to define myself in this respect. What you see is what you get.Height: 6'5. All the better to look down upon others.Weight: ....Next.My Story: What? You want a back story? Oh, is this supposed to be my opportunity to glean cheap sympathy from the masses and make you think "Oh, what a poor thing! No wonder he grew up all messed up and wanted to take over the world."A moment while I vomit.I mean, I could sit here and dwell on the fact that in truth, I had no one in life. I was an orphan taken off the streets by people who thought they were doing good (the worst kind of villains in my opinion) and flung into England's welfare orphanage where I spent years attempting to garner a reasonable education and make half-hearted attempts to find my origins.Father Frederick, oh God rest his soul after I put rat poison in his tea at seventeen, always talked about how my face had a devilish mien and that no amount of discipline or rule would make me behave. Eh, I suppose I was always rooted in mischief, in evil. It gets you far in life, it makes sure you never get hurt.There I was, alone save for the young children with their malleable minds, I influenced to become my allies; not dissimilar to prison bitches and we ravaged that orphanage. I was tall, built strong and no one dared to mess with me."Some are born great. Some achieve greatness. And some have greatness thrust upon them." Ah, Shakespeare, I hardly knew thee. Well, I wouldn't till years later when I would achieve my dream of being revered, of making this dreadful, dank and dark world in my image. I would have ruled it better than any of our political officials of this time. I would have abolished this ridiculous notion of a 5-day work week. No one has the time to do evil and earn a wage.With my extensive track record of bad behaviour, the orphanage despaired anyone would take me in. Then, he arrived. All I remember of Dr. Carlo Locke was that he never smiled. Not once. Even when he praised my ability to understand his teachings at prodigal speed. He was a sallow-skinned man with cavernous cheeks and looked like he had not had a good square meal in decades. Dressed eternally in black with a top hat and carried so many pocket watches, I had more than half a mind to pilfer a few and sell them off for ciggies.He requested for a young man who he wanted to take in as an understudy as he was all alone in the world, more than wealthy enough to provide for a child and had a vision for utter greatness. I had to control my laughter because I was sure Father Frederick and the sisters thought him stark raving mad. Dr. Locke only wanted teenagers, no "screaming monkeys" and only boys.I supposed I made an impression on him as I absolutely refused to get out of bed - having stolen a copy of "The Time Machine" and reading it, scribbling my annotations in the margins though we were strictly told not to - and address him."Who is this?" He did not look at any of the orphanage staff, only keeping his eyes on me. Eventually, I returned a challenging glare."Ahem, sir...this boy is well...he is an extreme handful. In fact, he has such a horrid track record with us, we've called him absolutely...""Nefarious..." I finished off with a drawl, having heard this one too many times and honestly sick of it. I slammed my book shut and sat on the edge of my bed, arms crossed. "I'm Nefarious."Dr. Locke looked me over, took note of the bruises on my arms and legs from all the fights I got into (and won, mind you) before he snapped back to Father Frederick. "He will do."And I did laugh at that point because they all look positively gobsmacked. It was so good.Thus, after a decade and more of learning elementary lessons in Math, Science, English and Humanities and finding those lessons far too boring, dreary and easy, I was whisked away by Dr. Locke into his isolated estate in Hertfordshire. The man was truly made of money and an absolute eccentric. He did not have any friends either aside from his dearth of family but confessed to me that "ever since I was diagnosed with brain cancer, I knew I needed to pass my teachings on to the right candidate. When I saw you, I knew it had to be you."Under his tutelage as well as nourished by his fortune, I was introduced to the fascinating world of Horology; how to tune watches, how clocks worked, the mystifying nature of Time and Space as well as amassed great knowledge and appreciation of Art, Music and Literature. I even picked up the piano for a bit since old Dr. Locke adored Erik Satie and Vivaldi and had his occasional request that I play for him.Though I had no formal education since young, his connections and wealth as well as his claims that I was intelligent beyond my years and appearance (and of course I was!) secured me a spot in the prestigious Cambridge University. There, I read Physical and Mathematical Sciences and out of honour to my benefactor (in a way, he was the only father I knew) and of my own selfish reasons of finally being independent, of chasing my own ambitions, I scored my Double Firsts and labored over the thesis I would bring to fruition.Through my college days, Dr. Locke grew weaker. His cancer had gone well into the terminal stage and with each passing day of agonising chemotherapy and going through my lessons, he would make me promise the same thing over and over: "Nefarious, promise me that no matter what is said and done...do not ever give up on what you want."I kept his words to heart and flung myself into frenzied research and experimentation. I had a vision. No, we had a vision that time travel would one day be possible. We had seen the future for what it was, for what fools were too blind and ignorant to see. With his unwavering support, I developed it (with complex illustrations, mind you!) and presented it with all the confidence of a bright-eyed, ambitious student who wanted to prove the genius he had at his fingertips.Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The panels of academics, these so-called brilliant minds listened to my words and gave me nothing. Save for a few off-hand comments that seemed especially begrudged that whatever I had researched was "indeed invaluable" but "unfortunately, was far too in the realms of fantasy for practical Science". I had advanced, that fire of rebellion ever sparking in me, arguing that if given the opportunity, I could truly prove it but it all fell on deaf ears. I was better off trying to convince the Sun to stop giving off heat.I graduated, certainly with Highest Honours, one of the highest of my cohort but my ambition fell by the wayside. The academics thought me intelligent enough but my efforts were best swayed towards more practical pursuits. Be a teacher or professor, they said! The very idea!Dr. Locke did not take this well. When I related to him after the graduation ceremony - for he was not well enough to watch me take my certificate - he did not say anything for the longest time and instead turned his face to the wall, away from me. I swear to this day, I could have heard him crying.Just mere three days after this, I had brought his breakfast and medication up to his room, only to find that he was no longer breathing. When the doctor arrived as quickly as he could, Dr. Locke was pronounced dead. An aneurysm in his brain did him in before the cancer. Our minds truly do work against us when we are not careful.Was I grief-stricken? I had to be...a little. I was the only person left in the man's life and he made me realise that I was indeed capable of achieving greatness and that I should not let anyone take that opportunity away from me!Dr. Locke did not leave me in vain. I inherited his estates, his fortunes and most importantly, his findings and his laboratory. I set to work there and then, becoming a hermit myself as I ensured my invention would see the light of day. I would show them, I would show them all!I was on the brink on a breakthrough; I just needed a particular power source that to my absolute disappointment, modern electricity could not supply. That was when I received that ominous letter of invitation.I had opted to believe it was a letter from a distant association of Dr. Locke as it addressed him directly but it had no signature save for the return address. An invitation for ambitious scientists who wished for comfortable accommodation and the right space and amenities for their inventions, inventions that the academic world deemed questionable, impractical, even too queer to consider.
N. Labs. When I tried searching it up, I received no real information save that its location was somewhere far, far off the coast of Australia but apparently, so obscure, it could have been in the heart of Bermuda. I was about to write off the letter as a cruel joke but something halted my impulse to chuck it in the fireplace.Was it my late guardian's spirit (if one believed in such trivial nonsense) or was it because I felt I truly had nothing to lose?I sent in my application and amazingly, three days later I received my approval letter as well as tickets for travel to this isolated place and N. Labs became my new permanent home. As much as I adored the luxury Dr. Locke's estate provided, it was still far too close to home, to the naysayers. I ensured all evidence was either brought with me or burnt away.Of course, I kept his finances intact. I may be an evil time-travelling scientist but having actual legal assets and credits are never anything to sniff at.And why did I not take Dr. Locke's surname? Oh, that's easy. N. Tropy just sounds so much nicer than N. Locke, doesn't it?That's my story. Now, many would say I'm lying about a detail or two but how many stories do we hear that are all truths?

RelationshipsDr. Narcissa Tropy"Oh, wow, where do I even begin with this one? Ahem, if anyone asks...it was a mutual break-up. I am saying nothing else on this subject and am going to go eat ice cream for entirely separate reasons."Dr. Neo Cortex"Heh, I'm sure the little cretin doesn't want to see me anymore what with that stunt I pulled. But oh...what is this? Do I hear him saying he misses me? Well, well, well...now this is interesting. Dr. Cortex and I got along relatively alright, if you define relatively alright as us finding any opportunity to disagree. Being stuck with him and Uka Uka for all that time was like a special level in Hell...but I suppose he's like a fungus. He grows on you and can be useful."Dr. N. Brio"What a character he is. He complains that Cortex is a toxic individual and then proceeds to keep coming back and back-stab him. This is such a wholesome motley crew I've joined. We all just back-stab, betray, gaslight and sometimes go to fisticuffs with each other...but I suppose it fuels me with nostalgia. It reminds me of the better times at the orphanage. I don't really care what Brio does? Just don't try something with me you will regret."
Dr. N. Gin"Heh, he's honestly the easiest doctor to get along with. All he cares are his rockets, his explosions and the rock band he wants to form. Hmmm...if I blackmail him, will he make me leading man? Ahem! I mean, well, as long as it makes him happy aside from waiting on Cortex hand and foot."

Author's Note:This is an NSFW-friendly blog but no underage or incest.Profile write-up is copyright of @GothikaFaerieN. Tropy is my own portrayal. If you don't like it, literally don't interact. If you do, welcome! This was long overdue!