A Little Therapy Never Hurt Anyone

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(OOC: This is purely for other people to get acquainted to Hugo. Don't expect me to be replying for a looooooong time. Just have patience with me and I'll get around to it....with luck in this decade. )

Hugo Strange sat in his run-down mansion like the slightly dusty and worn chair was a throne. The mansion itself was a most curious thing. It had been built on the very outskirts of Gotham, far from the rich socialites who could appreciate it. Subsequently, when the slightly senile owner of it died and left no heir, no one bothered to buy it, as it was so removed from the scenic North End. No one even came to the estate sale. Subsequently, the lavish home fell into the hands of the city, who had nothing to do with it. Over twenty five or so years, the only thing the house managed to do was to provide a home for a million or so dust mites and to wrack up a huge whole in taxes. Finally, the bureaucrats did what they did best: ignored the problem and hoped it solved itself. It didn't.

If one were to look in on the parlor, they would see Hugo sitting in a great winged chair, his fingers steepled, staring deep into a fire. He was sitting so silently, it almost looked like a scene out of a wax museum. Hugo was waiting...waiting for those he had asked to come. There were many people he would like to see, but only a few he needed to. The question was, who would come? Those he needed, or extras?

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Victor had gotten an invitation to some kinda meeting in some kinda mansion on the outskirts of Gotham. He didn't know why this "Strange" guy wanted to meet him like this. After all he didn't seem to work at the University or seem to have need of a photographer. So why on earth would he need him.

When he finally made it to his destination he got out of the car and stood where he was for a few seconds. He was having flash backs to the movie Clue. And he decided that he should check and see if his phone was working just in case there was a murder or two. He saw that it was working and then he walked to the front door.

He looked at it for a while and then knocked on the door. He waited for an answer, either a call from inside or for the door to open. He didn't know what he was here for, just that he was invited. And he might as well show up when he's invited.... Even if he had a bad feeling about it.

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Hugo shook himself from his trance and stood up to answer the door. The knock had taken him by surprise; didn't people ever use the door bell anymore? No matter, no matter...at least SOMEONE came. He walked to the door, straightening his tie, and making sure everything about his appearance was in place. He especially liked his matching ring, tie clip, and cuff links. The strange, emerald eyes set into them supposedly gave the wearer to peer into a persons mind. Not that Strange needed help, but their eerie offsetting gaze was more than enough to scare the truth right out of anyone.

Peering through the small window set into the window, he saw a dark figure, vaguely male shaped. Edward, perhaps? Or, happy day, Dr. Crane? Alas; the absence of an over sized bodyguard ruled out Edward, and Dr. Crane would undoubtedly wear that ridiculous mask in a vain attempt to scare Strange. Then who in the name of Freud could be at the door?

Strange opened the door to reveal a spacious and comfortable foyer. At least, it seemed comforting at first glance. A closer look revealed an almost sinister air about the place. The pictures on the wall all closely resembled Strange in some way, but they could not be his relatives. They were too similar. Instead, they all seemed to be different portraits of Strange himself, but in different personalities. One Strange smiled comfortingly. Another frowned in a disapproving way. A portrait covered with shadow showed the visage of Strange contorted in fury. There must have been a dozen portraits on the walls, and, although one could hardly see the eyes through the round spectacles, one knew the eyes were following your every move.

Strange peered into the darkness. His visitor was none other than Victor Grant. Interesting.

Strange extended a hand to the man. "Come in my dear Mr. Grant, come in! Oh, how rude of me. I know who you are, but you know nothing about me. I am Professor Hugo Strange. But you may refer to me as Dr. Strange or Professor Strange. That is customary between doctor and patient, at any rate...

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He looked the man who answered the door over and found him to be quite an imposing figure. Well at least he was from Victor's point of view. But then again he wasn't exactly the tallest man in the world.

When the man introduced himself as Dr. Strange he nodded. "Well its nice to finally meet the name on the envelope." He said. Then he paused. "But you do realize that I'm only here because of the invitation you sent. Not because I need a doctor.?" He said as he entered the main foyer. As he entered he took off the thin jacket he was wearing. He had on a button up shirt, in his usual unimpressive style, and a pair of tan colored men's trousers topped off with a brown colored belt, and a pair of comfortable shoes, all topped off by his ever present glasses.

He looked around and saw all of the pictures and found it strange. 'Stuck on himself ain't he?' He mentally commented to Lupin.

'Quite.' The mental wolf replied.

Then he turned to the man. "So Wad- I mean Professor. Should we be expecting anyone else?" He asked still not quite shaking that bad feeling he had before. He covertly took a sniff of the area trying to see if there was anyone else here already. At first he thought he did indeed smell someone but when the smell didn't fluctuate as it always id with a living being he assumed that there wasn't anyone else here. But he kept aware just in case.