<sub>[Startlingly, he finds writing on his personal mirrors one day without warning. A message written on the wrong side of the glass in bold, conspicuous red lettering. Meant to be seen. And meant for him, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He'd heard whispers that the mirror world from Lewis Carroll's sequel had taken on reality here, but he'd never seen any evidence of it...

Was this a sign, then? A sign of some other entity writing to him from the other side? The idea sends a crawling sensation up his spine, more than just the thought of someone breaking into his rooms. "The witch"... That had to be Kol Mikaelson, didn't it? What other witches did he know of who had been on a search recently?

But who was asking? Who else could have known?

As he half-expects, rubbing the mirror's surface does nothing to smear the letters. Answering certainly doesn't strike him as an option, even if he'd wanted to make contact with whatever it is that had vandalized the mirror in the first place.]</sub>

[ backdated to the week of klaus' arrival; july 11th ]

Klaus is here.

[ sometimes it's important to cushion the blow. sometimes you have to rip off the bandaid and let it bleed. elena decides to forgo the former in favor of the latter. ] He doesn't remember his first stay. He won't remember you.

[ and that's a good thing. ]

Edited (last one i promise oh my god) 2016-07-19 06:02 am (UTC)

[ He hasn't changed much since he was a Lost One. Then again, he's actually 11, so that's probably why. Still talking with a lisp and missing his front teeth, though. ]

Hey, do you remember me from Neverland?

<sub>[Oh... lord. Victor needs a minute to collect himself before he responds. This boy is incredibly young. Still incredibly young, even after the Neverland event has run its course and returned them all to their original ages.

They'd only been two years apart when they'd met, but now it's more like fifteen. Time, age, and a decade of poor habits have replaced his baby fat with sharper, starker angles. But his eyes remain the same, still a little tired and sorrowful somehow. (In real life, he's never really stopped be a Lost Boy, he'd just masked it with narcotics and work. No one said growing up solves all problems.)

Is it time to awkwardly clear his throat? Yes, yes, let's do that.]</sub>

Yes, I... I remember. It's Dustin, isn't it?

_{[God, he's so young. How do you go about speaking to the eleven-year-old you knew as a boy when you're not actually a boy?]}

How can I help you?

[ victor has a visitor. ]

[ an incredible black beauty has invited herself into his room. a familiar set of paws and sharp ears lies comfortably in the middle of his bed licking the fur between the pads of her paws. vasilka's eyes are the same striking gold as they had been at hogwarts, and her mannerisms are just as clever and arrogant as ever. it's almost as though she's the same cat from the event, although this one has a better knack for entering rooms she hasn't been properly invited into. ]

[ she's dragged a bit of paper to keep her company, and has been nibbling on the corner. when victor decides to grace his room, she ignores him. her tail sweeps along the cover of the bed, and it's the only hint anyone will ever get that she's noticed he's arrived to keep her company. ]

<sub>[The thing about living alone in a quiet room on a quiet floor is that you live alone and it's quiet. There definitely shouldn't be faint sounds of shuffling coming from your bedroom when you walk in the door.

Victor listens for it again--yes, there it is again.

Nothing that can sneak into a locked apartment can be good, in Victor's experience, and he carefully sets down his keys on a side table (one would think that having a lock and key would help prevent this sort of thing, but apparently not).]</sub>

Hello?

<sub>[I'm armed, he thinks to add, and then decides against it. Better not to announce it should he need his pistol.

There's no answer. The sound continues.

When Victor hazards a cautious look to see what it is, he discovers the source to be not be shuffling movement as he thought, but crinkling. The crinkling of paper being brushed back and forth across his bed. The culprit, a cat, sits there like it belongs there. Which it certainly doesn't for more than one reason, the primary one being it's a dreamt-up hallucination from an event.]</sub>

You shouldn't be here.

_{[Because if he's not mistaken, this is a cat from that wizarding school. Katherine's cat.]}

Good evening, Frankenstein.

I understand it's late, and you dislike conversation, but you seem to have more experience with Wonderland than I.

Did you, perchance, see three playing card men on your device the other day?

I must admit, it's gotten me worried.

Edited 2016-11-10 03:15 am (UTC)

[ inside of victor resides a man who loves poetry, and it's possibly elena's favorite thing about him. it comes as no surprise, then, that one of her gifts is the book letters to a young poet. elena likes rainer maria rilke, and she wants to share that with him. one poem in particular has been underlined. alongside the book is a montblanc pen. it has been enchanted, so that it may never run out of ink. elena has no doubts that he will use it to record his findings and other scientific observations, but she hopes that maybe, just maybe, one day inspiration will strike him, and when that day comes, he is not without means.

merry christmas, victor. ]

Edited 2016-12-29 06:53 am (UTC)

[Rebekah is a sentimental creature by nature which means when it comes to picking out a gift for Victor she gives it a lot of thought. Books seem too easy of a fall out, nor would she want to give anything too practical like tools to help him with his work. She wanted to give him something memorable, if possible.

she finally settles on a pocketwatch which still falls in the realm of practical while also being something he can keep long term.

inside there is an inscription she had put in. it's a quote from one of her favorite books, Kate Chopin's The Awakening and it felt relevant to some of the conversations they've had:

One must possess many gifts … which have not been acquired by one’s own effort. And, moreover … the artist must possess the courageous soul.

While they may not be artists in the traditional since it still applies, to live in the world, to truly live takes bravery, it is not easy to be human or kind but they must strive to do these things all the same.

he will find this in a small wrapped up box on his doorstep the morning of the 26th after the event has died down with a note:

Merry Christmas, Victor

Sincerely, Rebekah]

[ happy holidays, victor! ]

[ you'll find your black, furry friend in the form of vasilka sitting on your bed with a christmas tie in her mouth. upon further inspection of his room, he'll find two other ties left haphazardly on his floor and on a chair. she'll run away as soon as he advances toward her. ]