VANAGLORIA : A STUDY IN HUBRIS.
HECTOR SOLORZANO. full name, HECTOR ALEJANDRO VELASQUEZ SOLORZANO. 27 years old, born on december 28th, 2994 in mexico city. cis man and uses he / they / doesn’t really care about pronouns. sold his soul to his family’s global construction and real estate empire and works as a civil engineering project manager.
SKELETON. DYNAMICS. PINTEREST. HISTORY & MISC. BELOW.
trigger warning: suicide, drug overdose
IMPETUS.
the concept of making some kind of lasting, indelible mark on the world that wasn’t gilded, silver-spooned and handed to him on a platter. the glory of having his own name mean something, beyond inheritance and privilege and absurd extravagance. creating something with his mind and his own two hands — in and of itself, an impossible feat considering all he’s ever achieved has had his family’s insignia stamped on it. but an ambition he holds fast to like a cardinal point on a compass
plain old kendall roy style retribution and succession drama baby. hector’s never forgiven his father for destroying his brother and despite his father’s best attempts to shape him into the back-up heir, he’s going to fuck this company up before he ever gets to inherit it.
hubris is his ultimate achilles heel and downfall. yes, irony thy name is hector. thinks he’s somehow smarter, faster, hungrier and more brilliant and than everyone around him. which is obviously not the case. this guy is playing so many games within games with enemies and allies alike, he couldn’t claw his way out of the matrix-style shit storm if he tried.
HISTORY.
only child, the demon, angle and beloved favourite all in one. originally born as the younger son. the spare, not the heir.
hector’s father is the CEO of the largest civil and engineering construction company in the world. their headquarters is in mexico city but they have subsidiary offices in madrid, london, tokyo and los angeles. hector’s mother is the heiress of the velasquez real estate empire, her family holding company owning substantial parcels of land all across south america, north america and europe.
his older brother, teodoro, was born 7 years before him. the consummate perfect son and heir to the empire — until, of course, he wasn’t. escalating parental pressure, crushing academic expectations, the weight of the world upon his shoulders. teodoro was no atlas. hector was 14 when they found his brother overdosed in a penthouse in saint-tropez while on summer vacation.
the process of priming hector to become the next heir was so swift, so damning, as to be almost surgical. teo’s body was barely cold and laid to rest in the ground before their parents began to talk about hector’s ‘future’.
hector never forgave his parents for what happened to teo. they were to blame, of course they were — they stood by and watched as teo slowly killed himself, until there was nothing left but his body to go. he was dead long before he swallowed his own heart and jumped on a one-way first class flight to the french riviera.
generally speaking, hector’s academic record was rather unexceptional until teo died and he had no choice but to perform in teo’s stead. and he did it, teeth gritted and eyes slitted murderous, the whole damn show pony circus show. the endless parade of meaningless extracurriculars: everything from debate club to swim team and lacrosse to mathematics decathlons. enough to fill a trophy room with lustrous medals, accolades, first place ribbons, and still not enough. hector could never live up to teo’s looming shadow, nor did he want to. it felt, somehow, like a betrayal, to prove he was better than his brother in any way. to validate his parent’s desire to mould him as the emergency replacement.
the only subjects hector enjoyed with any genuine passion or fascination that wasn’t feigned were classics and history.
enrolled into verdamme as a staunch fuck you to his parents who had astronomical hopes he’d attend MIT or stanford or ETH and get an engineering degree. (he did end up getting one, postgrad.)
was julian’s so-called right-hand man throughout all the years at verdamme and is also one of the riot club member’s who knew julian the longest. loved julian as much as he hated him and thought he deserved to die. one of the leading proponents of the #kill caesar movement. somehow not the most suspicious potential suspect.
the irritating bastard in class who barely tried but seemed to ace every single test. in reality he just has an exceptional short-term memory and mind for rote learning — in one ear, out the other, etc. very much the kid that seems to be napping for all of class and then pipes up to give the most bizarre, unexpectedly insightful comment in the middle of discussion.
fucks with people, their lives / hearts / hopes and dreams, as a way to feel something? inside? maybe?? notorious for being one of julian’s worst enablers but was also plenty responsible for his own schemes, manipulations and cruelties.
MISCELLANEOUS.
is currently engaged to the heiress of a spanish shipping company in the world’s longest running engagement. almost never wears his ring but mexican and spanish news outlets made quite a big deal out of it when it was first announced over a year ago.
speaks spanish, english, french and italian fluently. due to being your typical classics nerd, also fluent in latin and ancient greek. conversational in german and portugese.
general vibe is aloof, albeit quite disarming once he strikes up a conversation, laidback, chariasmtic, “chill”, able to talk to anyone about anything when he can actually be bothered to. also the guy with zero chill, secretly. we don’t talk about that.
endeavours to avoid personal drama at all costs that hasn’t been purposefully orchestrated for some kind of game but will enjoy the schadenfreude from the sidelines while placing bets on who’ll come out on top. it’s probably a gambling problem.
some kind of deep emotional trauma (re: parental neglect & then overnight obsession with him being the perfect replacement son for the dead brother) (re: aforementioned dead brother who is possibly the only person he’s ever loved) that prevents him from properly connecting to people on a deeper level beyond shallow, casual and purposeless sex
travelling is the one and only perk of his current job. he loves travelling, but in the niche struggling backpacker way that normal twenty-something years olds do, not the private jet lifestyle of a billionaire heir of a global conglomerate
collects obscure roman artefacts, specifically from the late roman republic, and has an antique knife collection. his favourite is a ceremonial gold dagger and sheath from the tomb of tutankhamun.
teo’s girlfriend left his dog, socrates, with him after the funeral, claiming she couldn’t bear to have the memory of him around her. he’s unironically hector’s best friend.















