Victor's entire birthday celebration this year had consisted of two jelly donuts at J,GoBs, and he was totally fine with that. First, because he was turning 19, and that wasn't really a big birthday no matter how you looked at it -- he'd been legally old enough to vote for a year, but wouldn't be able to buy a beer to celebrate for two more. (It also made him feel like a little bit of a dumbass, still being in high school at 19. Though he figured spending a year in an underground teen crimefighting gang would put a lot of people off-schedule.)

Second, it was a pretty arbitrary date. Maybe it was literally the day he was made, maybe Ultron had just picked a month and a day at random. Wherever it had come from, it wasn't like he was even the ghost of an idea on February 16, 1995.

Isabelle had called off their date on account of kids, and Victor had no particular other plans for the day. (He also had no kids this year -- a fact that he had decidedly mixed feelings about.) He'd gotten a couple birthday greetings on Facebook, and he spent some time thanking people before settling down with his physics textbook. Science was his birthday party this year.

[OOC: Cracked door, open post.]

Victor shoved his bags to the foot of his bed to deal with later and flopped down on the bed. A few days before, he'd been expecting a simple, silly prom/homecoming to cap off his trip to L.A.

( Cut for potential spoilers )

... and that made him feel like even more of a sleaze for leaving. He turned on his laptop and started playing the most mindless game he could find, just to get out of his head for a while. His head wasn't much fun.

[OOC: Door closed, post open for SP!]

Victor had woken up early to the sound of a phone call from L.A. He'd fixed all the team's problems with a few clicks on a keyboard, sighing just a bit over how lost they were without him. Then he got a healthy breakfast of orange soda and blueberry Pop-Tarts and flopped back on his bed to eat and daydream.

He was shirtless, naturally. That was just how he rolled.

[OOC: Open post!]

Victor wasn't sure what to make of the weekend, and he kept turning it over in his head as he moved back into the dorms. The future life he'd seen for himself -- a wife, kids, status as an Avenger -- seemed almost too perfect. He kept wondering what the catch was. It even seemed possible that the island had been messing with him by showing him exactly what he wanted.

The thing was, as much as he wanted to be a good guy, as sure as he seemed that he could be one, he always had that deep-down fear that Victorious was in his future no matter what. It was hard to be dismissive about it when Gert had been fighting him in some other world.

And then there was the fact that apparently he married Molly. On the one hand, Molly was awesome; on the other, she wasn't even 14 yet and thought her one true love was Zayn from One Direction the last time Victor talked to her. The whole thing was uncomfortable and made him feel like his older self was a little bit of a pervert.

He flopped back on the bed and sighed, wondering how much teasing he'd be in for if he told the team back home about the whole thing.

[OOC: Cracked post, open door.]

After waking up in some strange kid's bedroom, Lucky had made every effort to keep a low profile the day before. For all he knew, everyone else in the place was a Night Creeper, and he didn't want to get into any fights. Not just because he was alone, either -- he was sort of over the whole fighting thing.

Twenty-four hours later, after he was sure he was the only gang member in evidence, he went down to the beach and perched on a high rock so he could watch the waves ebb and flow. He thought of Veronica as he sat there, wishing she was with him. She was the only one he'd ever known who appreciated the ocean as much as he did.

[OOC: Open, although Lucky isn't exactly a brilliant conversationalist.]

Victor had spent the morning out and about, but after lunch he came back to the cabin and flopped back on his bed. He meant to just change into a swimsuit and head for the beach, but he found his eyes wandering toward Olive's side of the cabin and stayed where he was just to think for a minute.

He liked sharing the space with her. He'd been a little nervous that the whole experience would be awkward, but it hadn't been: It was like hanging out on the trips they'd taken together before, except at the end of the day they went to sleep in the same room. It was just they'd been dating a while now, and he'd thought maybe ...

Never mind what he thought. Things were good, and he wasn't about to wreck the relationship by pushing for more than they had. Even if some part of him wanted to.

[OOC: For the girl, and headed into the land of NSFW.]

As they stepped out of the portal and started the walk to the beach house where the team lived, Victor was feeling good about bringing Olive to meet his friends. Sure, there had been a couple snarky comments about redheads, and some genuine concern about bringing somebody without powers to the house even for a day, but ... he was home and it was a beautiful Malibu Friday. It was hard to worry too much.

He grinned at Olive as he reached for the doorknob. "Ready for the inquisition?"

[OOC: Just for Olive, and NFB due to distance. Parts will be taken from Runaways vol. 3 #10. ]

Victor was used to not being in L.A. right now, but the rest of his team wasn't. It was okay. He was always up for a burger and a good bout of What Is Wrong With San Francisco.

Besides, he agreed with Chase's summary: Molly wasn't going to decide she belonged here. "A, because the X-Men are tools," the blond ticked off. "They're gonna give her some sales pitch, and she's gonna hate it. And probably beat them all up. And two, the X-Men are tools."

And that was about when Victor realized they possibly should not have had this conversation in public. A group of intimidating-mutants were trying to stare them down. "Uh, Chase?" Victor suggested. "Ixnay on the 'Men-Xay are oolstay.'"

It might have even worked if Chase wasn't a touch too slow to get Pig Latin. He wondered aloud what Victor had said, before a thin green guy with vaguely lizardlike features who was standing next to a guy built like a pile of stones suggested they turn around.

"Okay, see?" Nico said. "This is why we should never leave the house."

That didn't help. Neither did Klara remarking aloud on the 'demons.' And neither did Chase going toe-to-toe with freaking Rockslide.

But Chase's request to get his gloves first made Rockslide back off, averting the whole fight. They all -- mutants, alien, android, witch -- ended up in a mutant-friendly dance club. So that didn't completely suck. By the time they made it back to X-Men Headquarters, Victor was wondering if his premonition had just been wrong. "Mol," he said, "I know we were kind of down on the X-Men before, but you should really give them another try. They're so nice! The students were even more fun than the people at my school. You're going to love it!"

Nico had barely begun to concur before Molly came out with, "THIS PLACE IS HORRIBLE AND YOU ARE TAKING ME HOME RIGHT NOW OR I WILL BEAT YOU ALL UP FOREVER."

And no matter what they asked, they couldn't get her to explain more about what had changed her mind than that her visit had sucked but the Wolverine poster was going back up in her room.

For his part, Victor was glad as he packed his bags that night that he was headed back someplace a little less exciting.

[OOC. Post 2/2 based on Runaways Vol. 3 #10. And slowly we move on through canon. NFB due to distance]

It wasn't like Victor spent a lot of time zapping stuff. Electromagnetic bursts of lightning were not exactly something you needed to get through your average day of classwork and video games.

But when he woke up feeling vaguely, indefinably off, it didn't take him long to work out that that was what was missing. His other abilities still seemed intact, and a systems check showed he hadn't come down with a virus or anything (ha, robot humor). But when he reached out with that power, nothing at all happened. It was as if he'd never had it to begin with.

Disconsolate, he laid back down on the bed, barely noticing he'd plowed through a whole box of Pop-Tarts while he tried to figure this out. In fact, he was still a little hungry: Maybe he'd go into town for some waffles and see if those helped.

[OOC: And I am done with the open, establishy posts. Victor got the Rory Gilmore appetite. Weekend SP in effect.]

Victor woke up when his phone rang, and he didn't open his eyes as he groped for it and pressed it to his ear.

"Too early." This was a greeting, if you squinted at it sideways. Anything more clever would have been entirely beyond him.

"Ask what time it is here," Nico said, sounding on the verge of a freak-out. "Vic, you have to come home. People are turning into zombies. Like, not just the Scientology kind, literal grrr, argh."

"Huh?" he was a little more awake now. "How's that happening?"

"We think it has something to do with the radio- " Nico started, than interrupted herself. "How come you sound like a girl?"

"It's early," Victor said again, and finally looked down at his shirtless chest. "Um, Nic?" he tried. "Maybe because I ... am a girl?" And now he was going to have a freak-out to match hers. Quietly. People had warned him about the transformations, sure, but it wasn't supposed to happen to him. "Like, I can see my boobs."

"... you have it worse than we do," Nico decided, after a long pause. "Look, call me when you fix it. We'll fight the damn zombies. You ... find a bra."

"Thanks, mom."

"Thanks, Victor/Victoria."

And that was the end of the phone call. The end of Victor's panic would come sometime later.

[OOC: Closed door, open post. LA end of the scenario taken from Runaways vol. 10, Rock Zombies.]