Victor smirked as the girl tentatively decided to show off her power too. He took great delights in trying to coax people out of their shells. But he had to avert his eyes on the happiness on display. Really? Rainbow colour? There must be a correlation between personalities and mutant powers. “It’s… bright?” He sneered.
She allowed herself to laugh loosely as she fluttered off the ground. “I suppose they are a bit bright, but I think it may be genetic. As I’m told I am part fae, though I don’t know much about my family or history so I am not sure.” She hovers just above the ground, able now to look him in the eyes. “They’re fun, but I don’t get around much since coming to the states.”
"Part fae? How does that work?" Victor thought back to what he knew of old lores, but if gods could walk the earth, he supposed there could be fae hidden around every corner. "Aren't you curious of your heritage?"
Victor raised an eyebrow at this kindness nonsense. He sounded like Shaw, almost, false kindness. He didn’t believe in hiding or pretending to be something that he wasn’t, and Victor was definitely very unkind. “Of course, if that suits your purpose here.” He knew that Loki must have some ulterior motive, everyone does.
He leaned back in his chair, admiring the view for a second. “Turn them into one or the other, into an animal. Hell, turn everyone into an animal. What is it that they say? Spirit animals?” That would be fun, watching animals run around in panic. “
“Give everyone food poisoning? No, that’d be too horrific for the piping systems. Or, you know, let a troll lose in the dungeons.”
“I doubt this place has a dungeon,” Loki said, debating the reality of it. Flashbacks of her own time spent in far too many dungeons (and never for fun) rushed in and ruined the fun.
She noticed the way his interested changed, the posture, the stares, and decided to keep this form. Given the way Billy reacted, Loki had been afraid to show this side of themselves to Teddy and it’d been far too long since Loki had been in the comfortable form.
“You’re on to something there. Should we make everyone perceive they are an animal though no picture nor mirror shows that…” stopping mid-explanation, a wide smile on her face, Loki stared off with a dreamy look just thinking about how much that would mess with people’s minds. Food poisoning sounded awful but this could be fun.
Victor shrugged, mischief without destruction or a higher purpose did not intrigue him. He leaned more of a lawful evil way, always needing a reason for chaos.
He raises an eyebrow at the slowly more public display. He couldn't say he wasn't interested. Victor knew he, what was the saying, swung both ways.
It was getting very complicated and victor had to shake himself to stop staring and start thinking. "That would be entertaining. And we could get permanent records through the shield security cameras?"
“My amount of imagination is perfectly fine.” Laura argued, more for the sake of arguing than anything, and she couldn’t stop the roll of her eyes at Victor’s lesson. “I know that, Einstein, I’m not stupid.” She watched his movements snuffing out the live wires, eyeing him when he didn’t respond to the possibility of losing his job. Her eyes widened some and she took a step back when his hands lit up green, not completely sure what he was planning, but her widened eyes changed to aw as the equipment was mended. “Okay, that was pretty cool.” She admitted.
Originally posted by dailythe100gifs
Victor rolled his eyes. “If you say so, draga.” He smirked at a job well done, except for the scorched marks on the walls, it seemed as though everything was back to normal. Of course, he’d have to re-configure the systems. He felt exhausted, after the whole experiment and fixing it. “Thank you, flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Would you cut it out with the whole draga thing?” Laura narrowed her eyes at Victor, her arms folding over her chest like clockwork. Her brow cocked at his last sentence. “Oh really? And where exactly is everywhere?” She queried with a devilish smirk, resting her hip against one of the desks, her fingers tapping against her arm in anticipation.
"Habit. Not that the term doesn't suit you." Victor looked her up and down, eyes roaming over every inch of her body. "Are you even old enough to play this game?"
Lifted from the ground, Selene gripped at the force around her neck as she grinned menacingly. She dropped the connection that she had established and held up a hand to tell him that she was gone. Perhaps playing with fire was not what should be done, but what did she really care? She cared for her body, no more no less, and dying now would be a shame.
Victor visibly relaxed as soon as she was out of his head. It left him tingling, a residual feeling with the loss of control. He released her, but glared a warning. “Do that again and I won’t be so kind.”
“My amount of imagination is perfectly fine.” Laura argued, more for the sake of arguing than anything, and she couldn’t stop the roll of her eyes at Victor’s lesson. “I know that, Einstein, I’m not stupid.” She watched his movements snuffing out the live wires, eyeing him when he didn’t respond to the possibility of losing his job. Her eyes widened some and she took a step back when his hands lit up green, not completely sure what he was planning, but her widened eyes changed to aw as the equipment was mended. “Okay, that was pretty cool.” She admitted.
Originally posted by dailythe100gifs
Victor rolled his eyes. “If you say so, draga.” He smirked at a job well done, except for the scorched marks on the walls, it seemed as though everything was back to normal. Of course, he’d have to re-configure the systems. He felt exhausted, after the whole experiment and fixing it. “Thank you, flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Mischief being the kindest of terms. Kindness, I feel, will be tantamount. Helps us appear as though we meant no harm.” Semantics were always useful. Twisting your words to suit your need and to shift blame. Key in causing trouble.
The comment catches Loki off guard. With a wave of his hand Loki is standing there as a woman. The outfit remains the same, though more figure flattering, and her boots go to the knees. Black hair is longer, with some curl, but her nails stay painted black. “And for those born both?” she raises an eyebrow, challenging Victor.
Loki has always identified as both genders. Odin had always honored it but Midgard wasn’t as accepting. Victor had selected the right words and Loki jumped to conclusions but this would not be a ‘prank’ she was keen on.
“At this rate, changing the color of the drinking water would be more intertaining.”
Victor raised an eyebrow at this kindness nonsense. He sounded like Shaw, almost, false kindness. He didn’t believe in hiding or pretending to be something that he wasn’t, and Victor was definitely very unkind. “Of course, if that suits your purpose here.” He knew that Loki must have some ulterior motive, everyone does.
He leaned back in his chair, admiring the view for a second. “Turn them into one or the other, into an animal. Hell, turn everyone into an animal. What is it that they say? Spirit animals?” That would be fun, watching animals run around in panic. “
“Give everyone food poisoning? No, that’d be too horrific for the piping systems. Or, you know, let a troll lose in the dungeons.”
Despite losing his father to Winter, Victor will always be in love with the snow and the ice. The feeling of Winter creeping in makes him feel safe and peaceful.
Victor’s ideal home is a small house tucked away in a village hidden from the world. It would look plain on the outside, but inside would be his haven full of technology, science experiments, and books. And a basement that just keeps extending. He would be very productive, creating, discovering, and developing the harmony between old magic and new science.
Megan’s eyes went wide as she watched the lightbulb burst. She was sure that she would break some unwritten rule, but regardless she moved to take off her jacket and drop it to the ground. “Okay, watch this.” As if on cue her glorious wings sprouted from her back in a magnificent rainbow shimmer. She turned on her heels so that she was facing away from him before she leapt up into the sky, her wings carrying her a yard or so above where she had stood. “So?”
Victor smirked as the girl tentatively decided to show off her power too. He took great delights in trying to coax people out of their shells. But he had to avert his eyes on the happiness on display. Really? Rainbow colour? There must be a correlation between personalities and mutant powers. “It’s... bright?” He sneered.
Victor tries not to laugh whenever someone brings up new age witches or romani magik. In fact, he has punched a total number of twelve people in his lifetime when they refuse to stop using the word “g*psy”. He shudders every time.
Through the guidance of Valeria, he is now able to control his laughter and violent outbursts with a well raised eyebrow.
The common perception of his people is... harsh. Prejudices and stereotypes cloud the truth and honesty of his mother’s powers. No one will ever understand dark witches, certainly not a Stevie Nicks song.
The cheap carpet material and consumerist tarot cars are laughable, best enjoyed burning in a fire.
“Not everyone has the talent of perception, Victor.” His mother has said once, placing a token in his hands.
“It feels old,” Victor looks up, bright eyed and innocent.
His mother pushes, “how old, draga?”
“100 years old?”
“Is that a question?”
“It feels... it’s grandmother’s. She made it for you, to protect you. When you were just in her belly.”
Mother smiles, nodding and closing his tiny hands around the token. “And now it’s yours.”
Perception is a funny thing.
And magic is a fickle thing.
“Please, it’s taking a toll on you.” Victor’s father brings it up again during dinner.
“It’s medicine. It’s herbs. You should know,” Mother smiles, “medicine man.”
“We both know that is not true. You use... magi-”
“That’s enough.” Mother warns, raising an eyebrow. They never discuss this in front of Victor, but Victor knows. He has seen the talismans, the fires, the smokes. Although he doesn’t understand, he knows.
“Please. It’s not too late to stop. You’ve helped more than enough people.”
Mother smiles. Victor thinks she has never looked more beautiful. “It’s in my blood. I cannot stop my heart from beating, how can I stop my own magic?”
Even now, after so many years, Victor still remembers the fire consuming his mother’s body.
“Mother.”
“Yes, dragoste.”
“My future is dark.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I feel it in my blood. I’m... different.”
"Everyone is different.”
“Yes, but.... Valeria... she feels like a river. Kristoff is like the wet earth. And you feel like a rainy storm. Father feels like ice. And I’m... I don’t know what I am. But I feel like the night or maybe it’s the moon. I feel different.”
“Well, you are special, Victor.” She grabs his little hands.
“I’m special?’
“You know why?” She smiles, “Because I can tell the future. And I have a feeling too. Victor, when you grow up, big and strong, you will protect us all.”
“That sounds good.”
“Mhmm... but it’ll be hard.”
“I can take it.”
“Good boy. Remember not everyone has the talent of-”
“Perception!”
“And?”
“Determination!”
“And?”
“Cleverness?”
“And?”
“Love!”
Mother laughs. But she still doesn’t hug him.
Victor remembers wind. Wind harsh like the dictator, who he doesn’t call by name, because that means he’s human and Victor thinks that the dictator isn’t really human, not really. He remembers being woken up by his father, wrapped up in many layers, and thrown onto a horse. He’s hugging his father tight, tight, tight, or else he might fall over. He remembers the clatter of hooves thundering behind them, and he knows that they’re trying to escape. He doesn’t understand, but he knows. And then he remembers praying to his mother, wishing so hard that he knew her spells, her ring of fire, something that she says. But she has never taught him any of it. He closes his eyes, tears threatening to spill and he wants to scream at the injustice of it all. And then, oh and then! He remembers the clatter of hooves, the screams of horses and men, and the heat of fire burning. He doesn’t dare to look back, but his father does. He remembers hearing a soft gasp, and a rough voice, his father asking him roughly, “Victor? What have you done?”
As Victor grows up, he tries harder and harder to forget his “talent”. It’s really more of a curse. He willingly gives up his natural perception for more advanced control of spells. It’s training, he justifies. Who needs uncontrollable urges when one can have... the world, really? The blending of science and magic is easy. Or so he thinks.
He doesn’t try to remember the underworld. Because he doesn’t need to. He feels it in his blood, affecting him, changing him. When he closes his eyes, he can see his mother, standing there, tired and hideous. Her face full of shock and dread. He hears her pleading him to get out, to let go. But he can’t. She’s his blood.
He wakes up in the hospital, throat and arms covered in electrical burns.
Mary-Jane sat with her feet tucked under her, thumbs keeping a consistent counterfeit rhythm. With each inhale she could feel the warming of the oxygen to develop into carbon dioxide that expelled with a vast contrast to the cool breeze. Then something caught her eye, a movement, a flash, something that she couldn’t exactly put her finger on or explain through the letters of the alphabet being put beside each other. Eyebrows crushed together, turning to the figure closest to her. ❛ What was that? Did you see that? ❜
Victor raised an eyebrow at the comment, looking up from his book. The stranger sitting next to him was new. He looked her up and down; she seemed normal, but then again he really shouldn’t be making such assumptions. “Seeing things is the first sign of a mental breakdown.” He shrugged, returning to his book.
