@verthandiwalking continued from ☆
Generally, Victor thought, people didn’t stand right back up after falling from rooftops. Not that he had much experience in the matter, of course. He’d been sitting on a crate when she’d fallen, whittling a small creature from wood. Her sudden appearance made him jolt, and the blade nicked his finger. Alarm still prickled over his skin now, his frame tense. The half-joke didn’t earn the slightest show of amusement in response. He gave the woman a steady look, concern flickering in his eyes. “Sure you’re alright?”
“they started fighting when fox beat charlie in tag when we were seven.” a pause as victor brushed wood shavings off his current whittling project, and he added, “and then they never stopped.”
!! some little telepathy details i haven’t discussed yet! the triplets grew up being able to speak into each other’s minds — and sometimes read each other’s minds, though this required more focus. from a young age, this led to numerous quarrels about boundaries and privacy. for example, charlie would speak into victor’s mind when all he wanted was peace and quiet, or foxtrot would read charlie’s mind to puzzle out a secret she was keeping. the triplets adapted by learning how to block each other out. it’s like saying ‘stay out of my room,’ but mentally.
they had varying degrees of success in this. charlie’s mental barrier is like a closed door; victor’s is like a locked door. in both cases, they’d need to “knock” on that door to be let in. they could still force their way in, but a locked door presents more resistance than a door that is simply closed. they are more mature nowadays, so they don’t often try to barge into each other’s minds without permission. initially, foxtrot’s mental barrier was also like a locked door, but after they fled the mansion when they were twelve, he essentially built a barricade in his mind and blocked his siblings out entirely. he only lets them speak into his mind when he senses it’s an emergency.
they originally built these barriers just to keep each other out, but it also gives them a good defense against mind-readers in general. nearly any mind-reader would face some resistance upon attempting to pick through their thoughts. foxtrot’s mind in particular would be tricky to get into, while charlie’s mind would be simpler to read. the triplets are also sensitive to attempts to get into their minds — again, from growing up around each other. they don’t take kindly to anyone who tries to read their thoughts.
foxtrot and victor!
🗣️ !! for all three bc this IS the lyle meme avkxb
100% truthful facts - accepting
“i had no idea foxtrot was a dance for a while. i thought it was a sort of plant. like foxtails and foxgloves, you know, but foxtrots. i also thought there were foxears, foxpaws, and foxsneaks.”
“when i was little, i thought ‘lime green,’ ‘lemon yellow,’ and ‘plum purple’ crayons were actually made of limes and lemons and plums. i even tried melting some lemon ones to make an extra lovely, extra colorful tart. it… didn’t turn out very well.”
“juliet’s a proper hunter. someone once cursed the theater with dozens of mice, and she defeated the whole kingdom of them with only claws and teeth.”
💚 = Does your muse get jealous easy? for all three, platonically for vic! <3
love and romance headcanons - accepting
foxtrot isn’t rlly the jealous type tbh! he doesn’t get jealous easily, at least. i can’t rlly pinpoint why, but he’s usually very chill when it comes to his partner spending time with other people, though he can get a bit protective at times depending on who they’re interacting with. he wants them to be safe! he mainly gets jealous when he feels challenged in some way — when he feels like someone is outdoing him in skills he likes showing off (like thieving, cleverness, and teasing). he has a competitive streak!
charlie absolutely gets jealous easily. she loves getting positive attention and feeling accepted/appreciated, so when someone she cares about starts paying more attention to someone else, she struggles not to feel rejected. as someone who values freedom herself, she tries not to be clingy, but it can still cause problems at times. usually rambling to foxtrot or victor about it helps her relax.
victor has lived with jealousy so long that he’s gotten used to it — like a bitter candy, the flavor has faded over time until he barely processes it anymore. his siblings received more attention from their parents, and people tend to overlook him because he’s so quiet. he considers jealousy selfish and unhelpful, so he knows how to stifle it. it still surfaces sometimes when someone he’s fond of begins paying more attention to someone else rather than him, but he can quickly quell the feeling by thinking “this is just the way things are.” he is also introverted and genuinely doesn’t like being the center of attention. this helps him as well, because he can reframe the situation as meaning he has more time for himself.
Much like before, the wrapped gifts can be found laying on the siblings' pillows, though it's uncertain when or how Wren managed to break in and out of their room undetected. This might become a habit...
Charlie has received a set of brand-new prettily-wrapped paintbrushes, as though to accompany the last gift she was given. These ones had no special magic on them, save for the little messages Wren has painted on the wood themself! There's colorful emojis and comments, such as, "This belongs to a nerd", "owns the diabolical braincell", "big rabbit energy", and so on...
Victor's gift is... obvious by the shape of it, but unwrapping the thing anyway will reveal a cute mug with an even cuter face of a cat stamped on it! There's a note inside as well, which reads: "Until you realize that rules are made to be broken, here's a substitute cat for you. :3" Yes, they drew an emoji. They think they're so creative.
Foxtrot's gift is a small box in night blue wrapping paper, which contains two things: one is a golden sun necklace hanging on a black string, as though to stick to a joke shared only by the two of them. What's especially important about this necklace is that the sun spins: it can be twirled and rotated, made specifically for busy, restless fingers. Below the necklace, resting inside the box, is a polaroid photograph that seems to move like a soundless, repeating movie. It's a candid shot of something silly Foxtrot did in a theater costume. Wren's twinkling eye can be seen in the bottom of the shot. Behind the photo, in Wren's cleanest handwritting, reads:
"Incriminating evidence of you being adorable.
Merry Halloween Part 2
And Happy Anniversary."
True, presents had appeared on the siblings’ pillows before, but this didn’t diminish the sense of wonder and joy they brought in the slightest.
Charlie adored the paintbrushes, and she laughed at the messages on each one. Her excitement didn’t stop her from donning the mindset of a detective, however. After all, this gift came with clues: 1) The messages had a familiar chaotic energy to them, and 2) the set went marvelously with the sketchbook from her birthday. The puzzle pieces clicked together in Charlie’s mind and left her with a strong hunch about who had delivered the gifts. Still, she barely kept herself from peeking beneath the wrapping of the other presents to gather more evidence.
Regret sparked within Charlie at the same time. She wished she’d remembered to give them a present as well. They deserved one. Not simply for the gratitude she felt for their gifts, but as an attempt to ease lingering tension between them. The seriousness of the incident had stuck with her, shaken something fragile in her, and she’d begun genuinely trying to hold herself accountable for her mistakes. She knew it would take much more time and effort to truly earn forgiveness from the person she’d hurt the most, but she’d committed herself to making amends.
In any case, she was now wholeheartedly determined to give Wren something in return. Something special. Surely it would be even more of a surprise to deliver it on a non-Christmas day, wouldn’t it?
(And another gift did mysteriously appear for Wren on the day after Christmas — a painting of an evening sky over Wetherton, with moving fireworks that burst again and again, their colors vibrant and glimmering. Charlie had used a page from the sketchbook and the new paintbrushes to create the piece. A message written in one corner reads: ‘The sketchbook and brushes are lovely! Thank you!! ☆’)
- ☆ -
Victor loved his gift as well, for more reasons than he could express. It was simple and practical in a way he appreciated, and the cuteness of the substitute cat made him smile. It mattered to him on a deeper level as well. He wasn’t used to being remembered by many people aside from his siblings. His quietness meant he often went overlooked. He usually didn’t mind, really, but it did feel a bit cold at times.
So, the thoughtfulness of this present — and the thoughtfulness of the blanket from several days ago — left a warmth in his chest he rarely experienced, and when he first sipped tea from the new mug, the warmth grew so great that his vision blurred a bit.
His brother asked if he was alright. Victor nodded and mumbled something about the drink being too hot. An unconvincing lie. Foxtrot didn’t press him for answers. Instead, he settled himself nearby and fiddled with a sort of necklace as Victor sat on his bed reading, the mug of tea close beside him. The brothers often offered comfort to each other in this manner — they simply provided a stable presence for the other, silent more often than not. But it was a comfortable silence, and Victor appreciated it.
(And Wren received another gift a day after Charlie’s — a small wooden rabbit, hand-whittled with great care. A note tied to it reads: ‘Thanks for the mug. It means a lot to me. Also, Juliet loves the blanket.’)
- ☆ -
Foxtrot’s pillow wasn’t empty this time. The box itself didn’t give many clues about its gifter, but Foxtrot had seen enough of his siblings’ presents — and he knew enough about Wren — that he could guess who had broken into their room so sneakily. A soft smile stole onto his face as he unwrapped the box.
With no small amount of surprise, he also realized the guilt in his chest didn’t ache as much as usual. The voice in his mind that liked reminding him he didn’t deserve anything had hushed to a low mutter. It was an unfamiliar feeling — though not unpleasant — and one he still struggled to trust and accept. But he was slowly getting better at adjusting to it.
A necklace. Amusement glimmered in his eyes at the inside joke it carried, and surprise leapt within him when the sun twirled beneath his fingers. There was thought put into this present — a deeper layer beneath the jests, a sense of familiarity with his habits. Warm appreciation washed over him.
He’d spotted motion beneath this gift. He carefully lifted the photograph, and a breath of wonder left him. It moved. His face warmed at the scene itself, but his grin widened all the same — especially when he spotted the unmistakable hint of Wren at the bottom. Something melted in him at the note.
“Silly,” he hummed softly, fiddling with the necklace that now hung around his neck. He tucked the photograph in a safe spot — in a drawer beside his bed, where his siblings couldn’t tease him for it, but where he could easily find the memory later on.
👀 - for a confession made in front of others. bc im always Here for triplet content ok sgfkbkvhd
confessions - accepting
“Remember that map I made for your birthday?”
Charlie’s question sounded innocent enough, but mischief brimmed in her tone, clear enough for Foxtrot to shoot her a suspicious glance from where he was adjusting some stage equipment.
Charlie ignored him, a grin flitting across her face and brightening her words. “And remember how the spots special to you and Fox are the ones that move the most? Because Fox told me about them?”
“Charlie,” Foxtrot warned fruitlessly.
“The truth is,” Charlie continued, beaming, “I barely had to prompt him to tell me stories about you at all. He went on and on about you, and it was—”
“That’s not true.” Foxtrot had seemingly forgotten the task at hand. A flush tinged his cheeks as he insisted, “Don’t listen to her. She’s—”
“Oh, it’s quite true. Vic was there for some of it as well, so—!” Charlie dodged the hair tie Foxtrot flicked at her and flashed him a shameless grin before looking to Victor. “So it’s true, yeah?”
Victor slowly turned the page in his book, as though needing a moment to assess the honesty of the confession. Then he gave a hum of assent, earning a betrayed look from Foxtrot and a delighted beam from Charlie. “See?” she hummed happily, at the same time Foxtrot argued, “No, that’s, I didn’t—”
scars, for all three!
all about health - accepting
scars: how many scars does my muse have? where are they located on my muse’s body? how did they get them? what do they look like?
gosh i’m crying they have so many-
the triplets all have a knife scar on one palm. palms don’t scar easily, so the wound itself was rather deep. the scar is a white line that could be mistaken for simply a normal crease on first glance. in fact, it follows the head line on their palms very closely. foxtrot has this scar on his right hand, while charlie and victor have it on their left hands. there isn’t any real significance to this — the person who inflicted the cuts was just distracted when he got to foxtrot and got his lefts and rights mixed up (they were all meant to have the scar on their left hand).
(unnecessary bit of lore: a group of criminals in wetherton gave them these scars. this is their typical punishment for thieves who make the mistake of stealing from them. it was originally a drunken suggestion by one member of the group, but the leaders took it to heart. they take an odd sense of pride in being well-versed in history. they saw the punishment as a clever reference to the fact that thieves in medieval wetherton would sometimes lose a hand if they were caught stealing. in comparison, they saw a scar across the palm as rather merciful.)
foxtrot has many scars, many of which suggest he doesn’t have the greatest sense of self-preservation. most are from rough living prior to reaching the theater, but there are some older ones from the mansion and some newer ones from being a bit reckless. on the left side of his face, there’s a thin scar from his jawline to his cheek. he got this from broken glass when he was a child. there’s a large, patchy reddish-pink scar along his left forearm from a deep second-degree burn. he got treatment for it eventually because it was healing poorly on its own, but it was pretty serious and left a serious scar as a result. a freight-hopping incident left a jagged scar on his right shin. the thin scars on the sides of his fingers are from a foolish gamble. the scar curving up the side of his left palm is from a botched con where he may have gotten slightly hit by a car. he has other scattered scars from various mishaps. most of them are usually hidden beneath his clothing. people are most likely to notice the ones on his hands and face, and sometimes a slanted one on his collarbone. he doesn’t mind if someone calls these ones out; he enjoys inventing stories about where he got them. he’ll invent a story about the burn scar on his forearm if anyone ever spots it, but he prefers hiding it.
charlie was an energetic and impulsive child who sought out adventures whenever possible. she also wanted attention and sometimes resorted to causing trouble to earn it (when she decided any attention was better than none at all). her rebelliousness in the mansion left her with many bruises and scrapes and a few scars, especially on her arms and legs (from falling out of trees, tripping in the house, etc.). crashing into a bookcase during a fierce game of tag also gave her a faint scar on her temple. months after leaving the mansion, charlie taught herself how to ride a stolen bike. this was mainly because she was bitter her parents had deemed it an unnecessary skill and never bothered to teach her. she crashed several times, grazing both knees badly enough to get scars, but succeeded in learning how to bike in the end. charlie’s scars are sometimes more noticeable than foxtrot’s since she doesn’t mind wearing shorts or short sleeves, especially in warmer weather.
part of victor’s magic means he neither bleeds nor scars easily. when he does get hurt, he heals quickly. he dislikes his magic and sometimes wants nothing more than to be rid of it, despite knowing it comes in handy while working as both a stagehand and a dockhand. regardless, it has saved him from injuries several times. as a result, the scar on his palm is the faintest. he only has a few other minor scars from accidents on the docks, mostly on his forearms.
At this time, poor Fox would receive yet another letter in his pocket. "Remember me? Damian. Anyway, my brother Beau and I are having a party for Halloween on the 22nd - I know, I know, it's a little early, but things get kind of wild on Halloween around here. We live in an actual haunted house, you know. Anyway, you're invited - I'm inviting Wren, too. Hope to see you there!" And, encased in the envelope, was another penny.
This was a day when words blurred and shifted too much for Foxtrot to decrypt them, but immediate suspicion crept over him when he opened the mysterious envelope and a penny slid into his palm. Charlie confirmed his guess when she read the letter aloud to him. Damian. Foxtrot’s brow creased. True, the man had bought him a meal once, but he’d also assailed him with an entire cabinet-full of pennies and catnip. An impressive prank, but still — Foxtrot still hadn’t found the best way to dispose of the coins. He had also failed to shake the catnip from that sweater, and the theater kitten had claimed it.
Even so, the letter’s contents caught his attention in seconds. Curiosity and anticipation swirled in his chest. A Halloween party on the 22nd. In an actual haunted house. Wren would appreciate that, Foxtrot thought — seconds before learning Wren might appear as well. His interest in attending doubled.
“You’re going, aren’t you?” Charlie’s voice broke through his thoughts. A smile had spread across her face. “It sounds wonderful. Haunted and everything.” A box of caramel popcorn rested beside her. She popped one in her mouth, then added, “I might take the invitation and pretend to be you if you don’t go.”
“Right, well, I will go, so maybe don’t do that.”
“Maybe I’ll sneak inside anyway.” She narrowed her eyes at the letter as she folded it along different angles. “What’ll you wear? For your costume.”
Foxtrot hummed, tugging a string on his jacket. “Same as last year, probably? A scarecrow, wasn’t it? Haven’t got anything else to wear, so—”
“That’s entirely untrue!” Charlie looked appalled. She flicked a piece of popcorn at him, which he barely blocked in time. “You look like a scarecrow on your own most days, and you’ve got all the spooky theater costumes to steal from. Pick something else.”
Irritation simmered within Foxtrot at the scarecrow comment, but he stifled it and scoured his imagination for better ideas. “A… ghost?”
An exasperated sigh escaped Charlie. “How are we related? Can’t you be a tiny bit more creative?” The letter had turned into a paper airplane, and she sent it soaring across the theater’s attic. Victor sat on his bed, reading. The plane struck his head. He rubbed the sore spot and shot Charlie a betrayed glance, and she muffled a laugh and apologized. Her words spilled out in a rush when she turned back to Foxtrot. “What if there’s a costume contest? There might be medals and prizes and things. Or maybe they’ll stop you at the door if your costume’s too shabby. Or banish you.” She gasped, her eyes wide. “The ghosts might even curse you if you don’t impress them, and I bet they’d be offended if you dressed like a ghost.”
“Look, I’ll figure it out, alright? I’ll go through the theater costumes. I swear it.” He faltered. “But… the letter didn’t say it was a costume party. What if I’m the only one who shows up in something odd? You’d be the first one I’d take revenge on.”
“What sort of Halloween party isn’t a costume party?” Another flicked popcorn. He couldn’t dodge fast enough this time — it hit him on the forehead. “Wear a costume,” she instructed him. “A proper one, and a different one from last year. Or I really will steal the invitation and pretend to be you.” Her brows raised. “I’d make a much better Foxtrot.”
The real Foxtrot rubbed the caramel from his forehead and glared at her. “Rude.” It was a challenge, though. Refusal wasn’t an option. “Fine. I’ll get a different costume. A new, proper one.”
“Ask me if you haven’t got any ideas. Or ask one of the costume designers. Or—” The paper airplane hit her shoulder. She spun toward Victor. He still seemed focused on his book, though a faint smile showed on his face. Charlie gave a low, accusing hum, then faced Foxtrot once more. “Or ask Vic. Or Wren. Or… Damian, wasn’t it? The one who wrote the letter?” Foxtrot had briefly explained who the man was. “Or an audience member, or— or someone, I dunno.”
Foxtrot grabbed the paper airplane. Turning it slowly in his hands, he raised a brow at Charlie. “You’ve got loads of confidence in me, haven’t you?”
Charlie grinned. “You aren’t hopeless. But I refuse to share my best ideas with you. The invitation’s still mine if your costume’s dreadful enough.”
“That means you’ll sabotage it somehow if I ask for your advice, so I won’t ask you.” Still, he set the plane aside and extended his hand. “Winner gets half the other’s candy as well. Then we’ve got a deal.”
After a beat of hesitation, in which Charlie scanned his face for deception and found none, she shook his hand. “Deal. Half the candy means a proper split as well, not the candy you’d toss away anyway. Right?”
She’d guessed one of Foxtrot’s backup schemes. Still, the boy sighed and nodded. “Right.”
clothing style, for all three of them!!
character headcanons - accepting!
it’s no secret that foxtrot likes sweaters, especially slightly oversized ones in darker or neutral shades (deep blue is still his favorite)! he also likes flannel shirts (often faded), plaid things in general, hoodies, zip-up jackets, and denim jackets on occasion. his clothing always has at least two (2) pockets bc he needs multiple places to store money, shiny things collected on a whim, tiny charms and cryptid-related knickknacks he keeps forgetting to give to a certain someone, wrapped strawberry candy (he’s grown fond of it), and various other stolen items. there is no sense of order to this, even if he claims otherwise. he wears jeans, sometimes cargo pants. if it’s too hot to get away with a jacket or sweater, he’ll switch to a lightweight long-sleeved shirt. nothing that foxtrot wears stands out too much; it’s all pretty casual and meant for practicality and easy movement for quick escapes. his clothing is often a bit loose on him. he likes sneakers, converse, lace-up work boots, or slip-ons. he always has hair-ties on his wrists, both for himself and in case someone needs to borrow one.
charlie typically wears comfortable clothing that she doesn’t mind getting stained with paint! most pieces of clothing she owns have some paint on them. she likes any shade of blue and brighter colors in general. i associate her clothing with springtime vibes! she adores denim overalls, especially ones embroidered with flowers and the like. she’s trying to learn how to embroider things herself, and though she isn’t very good at it (patience isn’t one of her strong suits, and she keeps getting distracted and forgetting to practice), she is determined to master it someday. she sometimes wears a bandanna or something similar to keep paint flecks from getting on her hair. she likes t-shirts and short-sleeved shirts in general, along with sneakers or flat canvas slip-on shoes. on certain days, she sometimes wears button-up shirts as well, usually ones stolen from foxtrot or victor.
victor’s clothing is always simple and plain. to an even greater degree than foxtrot, he prefers blending in and not wearing anything that makes him stand out too much. blue is a theme for the triplets, and victor is no exception in liking the color and wearing it often! he likes jeans, sweaters, plain t-shirts, zip-up jackets, and hoodies. his clothing is often warmer since he spends much of his time at the docks when he isn’t working as a stagehand, and it gets a bit chilly. he also wears sweaters and hoodies partly bc juliet the theater kitten likes sleeping on them.
“cats are warm. like space heaters, sort of.” a pause. “they ought to let me bring more cats inside.”
what kind of fanbase would your character have?
VICTOR: people don't care about this character enough :((
most fans completely gloss over this character and are obsessed with another character. even if this character is well written and has a cool plot :(( smh these fans need to pay attention to this character :(((
fun fact, victor’s real name used to be george, but i changed it to henry partly bc one of my cats is named george and i kept getting confused agsgd this is part of the reason i made victor like cats, tho!
CHARACTER STATS FRAMEWORK.
For Victor!!! Finally!!!
Full Name: (( kept secret ))
Nickname(s): “Victor Lyle,” Vic
Birthday: December 12th
Gender: Cis male
Preferred Pronoun(s): He/him
Sexual Orientation: Asexual
Romantic Orientation: Aromantic
Occupation: Stagehand for the Twilight Theater (carrying heavier props); dockhand (lifting heavy crates off and onto ships)
Parents: Nathaniel (father, status unknown), Cerise (mother, status unknown)
Siblings: “Foxtrot Lyle,” “Charlie Lyle” ; Victor looks out for them as the most levelheaded and mature of the three
Birth Order: Out of the triplets, he was born last (Charlie first, Foxtrot second); he often acted as a peacemaker between his arguing siblings when he was younger; and sometimes (when needed) he still acts as an instinctive peacemaker between them now, though not nearly as often (fortunately!)
Family: Two siblings; status of parents or any other relatives is kept secret (albeit sometimes mentioned in vague detail when needed)
Closest Friends: His siblings; his quietness prevents him from making many other friends
Eye Color(s): Deep blue-grey
Hair Color(s): Coppery/reddish brown
Body Build: Lean, but sturdier in appearance than his brother
Notable Physical Traits: Large birthmark splashed across upper right arm (dark tan in shade); deep scar across left palm; especially calloused hands
Phobias and Diseases/Conditions
Phobia(s): No true phobias, but fears heights, hurting those he cares about, and disappointing/failing people; uncomfortable around fire
Mental condition(s): Not a disorder, but has alexithymia (difficulty identifying, describing, and expressing his emotions)
When and how was this diagnosed?: N/A
Learning Condition(s): No specific learning conditions.
When and how was this diagnosed?: N/A.
Physical Disease(s)/Condition(s): Moderate unilateral hearing loss (left ear)
When was this diagnosed and/or how did it happen?: Diagnosed; developed after an ear infection when he was three. Never received a hearing aid (his parents deemed it too mild to bother). He has adjusted to it. Most people don’t realize he deals with it, though observant ones might notice how he turns his head to compensate for the affected side. He dislikes noisy places since they make it more difficult for him to focus on listening to someone. The docks tend to be noisy at times, but he enjoys working there too much to leave, so he has adapted to it.
Usual Mood/Expression: serious, neutral, careful/hesitant, observant
Moral Alignment: Neutral Good
MBTI: ISFJ — “The Defender,” “The Protector”
Enneagram: Type 9 — The Peacemaker
Five Prominent Traits: reserved, passive, thoughtful, levelheaded, dependable
Skills: Talented at whittling wood; perceptive and adept at noticing emotional shifts in others (despite often struggling to identify and describe his own feelings); a decent mediator in arguments (good at defusing tension and finding fair solutions); excellent at staying calm in crises; a good listener; generally very patient and tolerant; has some medical/first-aid knowledge
Hobbies: Whittling (in the theater’s attic, he has a collection of small wooden animals he’s carved over the years); chess (often with Foxtrot); caring for stray cats at the docks; going on walks (often early in the morning or late in the evening); reading (fond of botany and medical books)
Special abilities: He has a telepathic link with his siblings. He also has magic-enhanced strength and endurance/stamina.
Color(s): Mahogany, dark blue, violet
Animal(s): Bears, cats, turtles
Plant(s): Fern, lavender, forget-me-nots
Anything else you want to add: Victor has always been quieter than his siblings. As a young child, he preferred to spend time reading in the library or whittling beneath a tree in the garden rather than running through the mansion. He often found himself acting as an impartial mediator between Foxtrot and Charlie when the two got into arguments. Or they’d drag him into their troublemaking. He disliked breaking rules, but secretly, he did enjoy the excitement at times. His mature demeanor balanced out their energy. He cares about them a great deal and they care about him just as much in return. Protective, gentle, compassionate, and patient. He has a steady presence that tends to calm people down. Dislikes being the center of attention, so he prefers to stay behind the scenes at the theater, focusing on stagehand work. He also dislikes unpredictability and enjoys the methodical work at the docks. Likes the ocean, finds it peaceful. A silent worrier. Rather judgmental, but rarely voices his criticism aloud and sticks with judging people in silence. Still, his siblings do exasperate him at their most mischievous. Loves cats and cares for them often. He found Juliet as a waterlogged stray on the docks, brought her to the theater to make sure she stayed safe, and ended up adopting her. Likes hot chocolate, apple pie, sweet tea, and blackberries.
❝ The mist around here always looks mysterious. ❞ // for victor
life is strange prompts - accepting
Victor found the docks calming. The saltwater air was familiar, the sound of waves reassuring. The benches there provided good reading spots as well.
He’d gotten rather lost in the pages of a book when someone spoke, though her words still reached him. His response slipped out thoughtlessly. “It’s ghosts, supposedly.” The realization that he’d spoken aloud struck him a second later. His breath snagged in his throat, and his face paled as he looked at the other, as though she’d caught him committing a crime rather than reading outside on a misty morning.
“I-I mean, that’s, um… what it says in here.” Her comment had matched rather well with the book’s contents. Hesitantly, Victor flipped back a few pages and turned the book so she could see the artwork spread across two pages: mist over the ocean and foggy tendrils that stretched into ghostly shapes.