My mom was Mexican...

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 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!]

It seemed to be a relatively quiet day -- no work, no classes, and no island drama to take up Victor's time.

Obviously, this meant he needed to sleep in. Once he'd finally gotten up, showered and dressed, it was late in the morning. Like the geek he was, he decided a good way to make use of the rest of his day was to organize his stockpile of comic books chronologically by title. They were jumbled together in a milk crate near his bed, which wasn't exactly the best solution.

If taking the comics out of the milk crate to sort them had turned into a marathon Ratman back issue reading session, well ... it wasn't like the project had a deadline.

[OOC: Open post, cracked door.]

It was looking like a nothing kind of weekend on the island, so after his classes Victor went back to his room to chill. He was poking around on an Avengers discussion board when his phone rang.

“Victor’s Pickle Shack, bringing you the best in brine,” he said cheerily.

The long pause on the other end suggested the caller wasn’t really in the mood for funny greetings. “Vic, hey. It’s Nico. Remember how before you left, you said you’d come back if we needed you, and I said that was great if we could just put the bad guys on pause while you portalled in?”

Nico sounded like she had a migraine. This wasn’t good; Victor started shutting down his laptop as he answered.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Yeah, well” -- and now Nico sounded like she wanted to either laugh or cry and wasn't sure which -- “so, it’s actually happened. A bunch of Majesdanians came for Karolina, and I did a spell that I made all of them but one go away. We tied him to a chair and he seems harmless. But I have no idea where the rest of them are. I’m calling a full team meeting. How soon can you get to Malibu?”

“Like two hours,” Victor guessed. “Wait, why do they want K?”

“Because her dad was an ass and got a bunch of them killed,” Nico said wearily. “Same thing as always, right? I’ll explain more when you get here. Just -- we could use extra firepower before the rest of the alien invaders get back.”

Victor sighed. “All right. On my way.”

He hung up and went to quickly pack.

[OOC: Door/post open. Scenario inspired by Dead Wrong, Runaways vol. 3.]