Victor Terrance  Cleary

         Victor had been in training for natural gifts to become the first male into his mother's Coven, The Golden Dawn. What he didn't know was that the Warlock of another coven intent upon his mother would use him to try and sway her to the dark side. At the age of nineteen he'd met this woman of such allure he was drawn. The night of his twentieth birthday he was lured away by this beautiful woman for a birthday gift. The woman led him to the forest's edge before she stepped aside and away from him. Victor was besieged by a half dozen men to be dragged to what he realized was a ceremonial coven ritual. Owain was there waiting by an altar already prepared. The clothes upon his person were torn away and a black robe put on him before they tied him down upon the marble slab.


The gleam of the knife lifted, hesitated, as his mother appeared with the shard in her hand. He shouted to warn her as the shard missed the plunge into Owain's heart and into his side instead. He saw the the knife Owain brought down with the intent to end his life to take his mother's instead. That was as the flash of white light left him in an alternated world. A world filled with stars and knowledge to whisper in his ears for years to come. A world not his own that he had to wait until he was freed from this prism prison. His little sister had grown in those years into the image of their mother along with the same promise of natural gifts. It would be her to eventually set him free as she met the challenges left in a past she had known little of. He will now help and protect his sister Kathleen.


Braving a New World

In a way, Victor was hatched from the crystal ball. The decade and a half spent there was a world within itself. Time passed, slowed down for him and even his body molecular structure changed to fit that cosmic plane. He floated in a world contained in this one wherein it was as immense as the universe was in this organic world. As far as the mind could reach and beyond. When the shard unlocked that world, his molecular structure resumed its organic mass and one thought left on his mind was his immediate reaction. Kill the warlock that killed his mother. One that would killed him and his sister. He killed the warlock and now needed to face a whole new world. One that had changed greatly. Kathleen had grown to look so much like their mother it was uncanny. It was almost like having her back. He silently swore to protect her now that life was given back within this world.

He'd been trained as a warlock and would have been the first male into the coven of the Golden Dawn had it not been for that incident that changed all their lives. His training rusty and memory foggy as he adjusted as if a newborn learning a lot of things all over again, except at a far more accelerated rate. At least he was given clothing by the Frasier family who took them in after the ordeal in Kathleen's shop. At least he wouldn't be running around naked or having to wear women's clothing. He'd run around naked before going there! Independent by nature he was quick to strike out on his own. At first he struggled in any kind of socialization. He was awed by the many new inventions which drew him to study these new technologies only to find ones watching him oddly. It made him more withdrawn and was labeled as being skittish. It wasn't really skittish. The next few times out he set to observing for it was the best way to learn.

After his first couple encounters and the odd undercurrents as an end result, he was content to be passed over like another piece of furniture. He was learning unbeknownst to anyone who met him thus far. First steps were slow and he got to hold a sword in his hand again. Some of his training coming back to the foreground. His first step forward in socializing was meeting a woman named CE at a notorious tavern he heard about outside the lands. It turned out she was from the same ones he now found himself in. The lands as a whole held a good feel for him and a balm in his unusual healing. It was that independent nature that kept him striving to learn, to grow and to fit in. It eventually paid off as with each step another could be taken and he found his abilities coming back to him as needed. Circumstance the catapult rather than trying to force it. He was as a sponge and now rising up much like the phoenix. Eventually he would come back into his own and even more for all he learned in that strange otherworld. He'd found his spot that sang to him nestled deep in the forest. It was here he came taking up a lean against one of the old oak trees as he recounted the days that were turning points for him and those involved.


First there was Noir and the use of a sword to feel in his hand again...............

She smiled at Victor, turning the sword around to offer it to him, hilt first. "There are times I wish to practice movement rather than hitting and this is the exact weight as the sword I carry."

It was a little light for him as he took it by the hilt. Still the smile was priceless that sprang to life. It had been a long time since he held one as he lifted it up in an easy arch over his head while stepping away to get a feel for it. The weight was wielded like a feather but he grasped the opportunity. Down and around as he turned, those cat like reflexes in a masculine grace. He was muscular and it showed now that he used them so.

"Too light for you." She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched him, taking note of how he moved.  "But you've used one before."


"Long time ago." Distractedly spoken like a child with a new toy to play with. More still came as the sword became a blur while being passed off from one hand to another so quick it would be hard for the most discerning eye to keep track. Figure eight was next as he moved in and out of it before he once more turned coming around with the blade to rush out and down. A move that could easily strike down an enemy. Unseen in this case nor was there another to counteract his moves. It was more for trying out some of the things he'd learned that had once been practiced so he could do them in his sleep. An enemy could come at night and so reflex was important. He stepped closer as the blade, even if dull, was tucked away with a flip of his wrist as the hilt was offered back. "Thank you for indulging me."

"Of course." Her smile was wide for him as she took the sword back. "Do you have a blade of your own, Victor? If not, I'm told there are at least two fine smiths here.  Lochlan Kearney and Brian MacAndrews."

"I do not. My coming here was a very last minute endeavor. I was unable to bring anything with me." Including clothes but that was a rather bizarre story to tell. "I will see then one of these men to gain a sword fitted to my hand. I am staying at the Frasier manor, Falkirk, presently." Backing up as he recognized a name. "Lochlan, he is married to the sister, Hannah." More to himself as that would be an easier connection. "I have not met either but I was told of their names."


Noir nodded, not pressing to learn more.  She looked over at Linn before she was looking at Victor. "I've met Patrick and Robert, but not the others, but I have heard good things of Lochlan."

He would need to see Lochlan about a sword fitted to his hand and the right weight. His next experience came not within the lands and the first more in-depth conversation............

A deep breath was taken, one of determination, as he paused in front of the tavern. This was the kind one got initiated into all kinds of social ways representative of this decade and others he was told. Dark eyes took in more than expression would seem to appear as he ascended the steps leading him across the porch and into the room. Crowded enough but not overly from his estimate of things relayed to him.

Soon a steaming mug would be set before her and coins would be given in exchange. A polite smile offered to Bess, hands would then wrap around the mug to hold it's warm surface between them. Gray velvet comprised the elegant gown worn, though when kissed by a trace of light source, a silvery shimmer would seem to be the appearance it gave.

First he located the bar which was easy enough to do and angled his path there. A few coins taken out to cover a mug of coffee almost forgetting to have the woman add whiskey but, thankfully, remembered that request at the last moment adding it.

A glance spared to the side as another would belly up to the bar. Polite smile given, then back to the reflective surface behind the bar her gaze would turn. Mug now on the rise and the smooth creamy substance of Irish coffee would be slowly sipped and savored.

A lean was taken, angled to the side, braced against a forearm against the bar's edge. Dark glance wandered unobtrusively over the few there then back as he straightened when the mug was set. Coins were taken and Victor about to thank the woman but she was gone. He was told she was efficient as he stared after her for a few lingering moments.

Bess is a workaholic that none give credit to. Always demanding her services, never enough thanks given. She could relate. Chestnut colored eyes would shift to view the one near her side at the bar, peering over the brim of that mug as it was lifted to sip from yet again.

The slant of dark eyes came without the movement of his head as he felt eyes upon him. It was almost slow motion as his head turned and dark eyes met with a delving quality. Curiosity and more lost in those eyes of his. It was time to break from the past or even more a completely different existence. "Does she always move away so quickly?" Socialization had to start someplace.

Mug to lower and a polite smile would appear. "People are very demanding here. Poor woman is lucky to get a chance to catch her breath." Offered in reply.

"It was as my sister told me and now to see." Dark brows slanted into that initial worry line that dipped towards each other. The drift of his glance would turn back on the woman tending the bar as she had worked her way down to the other end. Tankards, mugs of coffee, glasses of whiskey. Varying libations as he then took stock of the shelves in what was offered here. A boot tipped against the bottom edge of the bar as he leaned in enough to read some of the harder scripts adorning various labels. Some so fancy you'd have to know what the name was to read it.

"Your sister is very observant. Not too many place stock in those who work hard to tend to others. They take it for granted, and most are usually ignorant of just how tedious and tiring it can be." Slow shake of her head and a glance directed towards Bess. "Just a simple thank you, or even a few coins offered in gratitude, would be nice. Makes you know your hard work is appreciated." Focus would turn back upon Victor. "Perhaps someday those of us who work that hard will be recognized for it and given credit for what we do."


He eased back as once more focus was upon the woman. "Morning, noon and night. Most abuse her services in at least making fun or sport of her.." Trailing off as he spoke enough in what he'd been told. He left another coin there as his thanks being she had gone when he went to vocalize it.

Slowly nods. "Exactly, and with little care of her feelings. Tenders have feelings too, as do servers. Most don't care though. It's that slaver mentality most hold. Work them to the bone for service, then cast them aside without a thought when not needed." Touch of sarcasm to touch that soft voice as she spoke.

"You feel a thank you, an extra coin, or being treated reasonably in respect would be enough to recognize the hard work?"


To that she'd slowly nod. "It's not much to be asked for. It's easy, and simple. No cost to say thank you, now is there. Just two simple little words that too many don't know how to utilize. People are too self centered and selfish. All they care about is themselves. Two seconds is all that would have to be spared of their high and mighty life." Quite a dark outlook she had, but then she had a reason for it too. Mug was lifted to take several sips of the spiked, sweetened coffee, then lowered to rest upon the bar once more. Full focus now turning upon Victor personally, rather than utilizing the mirror to gaze upon him.

He was better looking than the mirror image? Smile shifted in a slant to one side as he took up the mug and moved a little closer but not into her personal space. Just enough to talk easier. "I'm Victor Cleary recently coming to the lands to stay with my sister, Kathleen."

The name had a ring of familiarity to it, though at the moment it couldn't be easily placed. Mug set aside, then her hand offered to him. "Carlotta Basinstoke. I live in a port town not far from here." Chestnut hues to meet his dark gaze. "What lands have you settled in?" Perhaps knowing the name of the lands, she'd be able to pinpoint why the feeling of familiarity was felt.


He set his mug aside as the warmth still lingered when he took her hand in his. Unsure of the customs here so he went with giving it a modified squeeze and shake. Brief. Releasing then as he took up his mug again. "We are presently staying at Falkirk as the Frasier family invited us in while I got settled. My sister is friends with them. She has a cottage which I'm moving into on the same lands, Ballicastle. Although, she has a shop in the commons of Heathfield. Candles. I have yet to see it." Well, he couldn't really consider that night when all happened as seeing it or from the perspective of seeing through a crystal ball universe.

Once her hand was released, it immediately returned to grasp that mug. Brow rose slightly as he spoke of the familiar lands, this time the smile was more genuine than polite in nature. "It seems we're neighbors then. I reside and work at the Dockside Tavern and Inne, within the Port of Heathfield. Small world." Again the formation of a genuine smile.

"I have yet to wander down to the port so now I shall add it to my list of places to go and see. I hear there are quite a few fleets there owned by various ones."

To that she'd nod. "Yes, there are. Those that belong to several in Heathfield. I couldn't name all the ships owners, only those that belong to my employer. Though hers are not in port at the present time. She sent them on to some islands in the Caribbean."

A shifting glance came over another approaching the bar as he stepped away to leave the area open being he had been seen to. "I was told about Bovee Shipping, that if I visited the port to stop there first. That shipping business had been around for some time and would have any information I might need." Or warnings for that matter but he didn't add that.

"I've heard of them, though haven't met anyone myself. Most of my time is spent at the tavern when there. I try to get away from the docks when I'm not working. Change of scenery if you will." Stated with a soft chuckle in her voice.

The woman received a polite smile in return as he listened to the information Carlotta gave him. He already befuddled one lady by having so much interest in the new windows and network of pulley ropes that had them gliding up and down so easily. At least he had taken steps as to not be so obviously out of his element, or in this case, decades. "As you get away for a change of pace, I will probably be going there for a change of pace." He also needed to find work or what would suit him in the lands.

That would gain another soft chuckle to sound. "Perhaps one day we'll pass each other as we move to our perspective changes of pace." Another smile to form. Cup lifted to finish off the rest of that Irish coffee. The mug set upon the bar, a motion to gain Bess' attention, knowing it would be refilled when the woman found the time.



No claims are made of pictures used of the actor Marcus Schenkenberg. It is only how this character would look in reference.

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