#victor1

[gamat3000]

[ofgoetsch]

VICTOR ACOSTA ( @viictorious​ )

THE XAVIER INSTITUTE.

DECEMBER 31st, 1997. NEW YEAR’S EVE GALA.

Only a select few were able to make Matthias smile genuinely. One of those few was Victor. An unlikely duo, but there was now denying that they both enjoyed each other's company. “Did you have a difficult time getting in? Too many fans blocking the entrance?”

[lys-ash-rai]

When: Midday

Where: Bronx streets

Closed Starter: @victorlees​​

Lys was still recovering from the full moon, feeling almost hungover and a little groggier than usual. They crossed a bustling street, eyes peeled for a bodega where they could get some fat drenched food to feel better. Clearly not paying attention they bumped into a stranger passing by, “Hey! I’m walkin’ here!” They exclaimed, feeling a brief wave of giddiness at the fact that they’d finally been able to use the famous New York saying, only to realise that the other was, in fact, also walking there. “Sorry, I’m sort of out of it today and I’ve also always wanted to say that. You good, dude?”

[holtstevens-blog]

@cooks-with-wolves

Holt had heard there were a couple wolves at the resort but hadn’t worked up the courage to talk to any of them yet. Faye told him about Victor who worked in the kitchen so Holt thought he’d be a good place to start. Holt was starting to think he needed help. The wolf was doing things and taking control over Holt in ways Holt didn’t like. He didn’t know if all werewolves suffered this problem, but he only knew his brother. He pushed through the kitchen doors and saw Victor immediately... or smelled was the right word. He was busy mixing ingredients and Holt hated interrupting.

“You’re Victor right?” he greeted as he rubbed the back of his neck. He also kept his distance as he didn’t want crowd or make the other man feel on edge.

[gamat3000]

[helenbennet-archives]

“There are other places to sit, you know.”

[quinn-garcia-wwcblog]

oaks and lakes | victor & quinn

@victor-prince​

It was another free period, and it was another afternoon at the Black Lake. When did his life become so predictable? But the air was breathable down there, his mind was unclouded, and the thought of spending longer than he needed to in the Dungeons left a cold distaste in his bones. As Quinn strolled through the beaten path, he heard a couple of rowdy Fourth Years pass back and forth a Fanged Frisbee. They splashed on the shore, with no clear idea at how loud and obnoxious they were being. Ignoring them as he walked by, his appetite for fresh air was lost and was replaced by an irate annoyance. He kept walking a little while longer along the Black Lake to his usual spot. The dirt was drier, the stones were smoother to sit on, and there was a big tree to landmark it when he went swimming in it during the warmer seasons. Approaching, he noticed a familiar figure lounging in the outstretched branch that hung high above the ground. Quinn bent down and gathered a couple of small pebbles in his hand. "This what you do all day, Victor?" He called out and tossed a pebble at him. "Sit around, brooding, asking your diary why you don't have better hair?" He kept hurling rocks on him, one after the other. 

[myungchoe-blog]

"It’s terrible,” Myung said suddenly, looking up from her issue of the Daily Prophet. “I never particularly liked the girl, but I suppose that doesn’t matter now, does it?”