deadgirlslikeme: (happy victor)
"Is everyone assembled?"

"All present and accounted for, sir," Victor said, looking around the assembled group with a smile.

"We have all necessary witnesses?" the registrar pressed. "Miss Liddell's aunt and uncle, and--"

"My father and cousin, Mr. Drapewell," Victor provided, feeling a deep, warm glow inside at introducing his friends as such. "Emmett Brown and Martin Brown-McFly."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Doc said, extending a hand.

Mr. Drapewell stared for a moment, before slowly accepting it. ". . .You're his father?"

"Yes, is there a problem?"

"I think it's the accent, Unc," Marty said, rolling his eyes. "Vincent's adopted, Mr. Drapewell. Which is probably pretty obvious, but still, if you want proof--"

"No, no, that's fine," Mr. Drapewell assured him, waving a hand with an embarrassed look. "Excuse me, I was just surprised." He coughed softly and resumed his stern look. "Now -- you two have a full understanding of what's expected? Neither of you are doing this through coercion?"

"We're both fully ready and willing," Alice said, glancing at Victor lovingly.

"Well then--" a few papers and a pen were produced and laid in front of them "--it's simply a matter of signing the correct paperwork."

"Er--" Victor rubbed the back of his head. "You wouldn't object if we exchanged vows? Quickly?"

"It is the closest our girl will get to a proper church wedding," Aunt Susan added.

"It's a common enough request," the registrar said with a nod. "Do you have vows prepared?"

"We do," Alice said.

"All right -- first sign here, then you can exchange them before we prepare the marriage license." Mr. Drapewell pushed a few papers toward them, and Victor and Alice added their signature where necessary. Finally, all that remained was the license. "Mr. Brown? If you would?"

Victor turned to face Alice, a few butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It had been years since he'd said these vows (excepting to himself in the mirror last night). What if he got them wrong again? For a moment, all he could think about was the disaster of a rehearsal at the Everglots, and the shame with which he'd been forced to flee --

Then Alice reached forward and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. The silent reassurance there -- that she didn't care if he messed up; they would be married regardless -- quieted his nerves. He squeezed back and smiled. "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness." He reached into his pocket and produced the gold band he'd gotten earlier in the week. "With this ring--" which slipped so easily onto her finger you'd think it had been waiting with the same anticipation he had "-- I ask you to be mine."

Alice beamed at him, pure sunshine on a warm spring day. "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring--" She caressed his cheek, engagement and wedding rings glinting in the lamplight. "--I will always be thine."

Mr. Drapewell did not oblige them with a "you may now kiss the bride." But in that perfect, beautiful moment, Victor did so anyway.

Psuedonym?

Oct. 21st, 2014 07:47 pm
deadgirlslikeme: (nervous as anything)
"And your name, sir?"

Somehow, Victor thought he'd be more prepared for this moment. They'd decided on the psuedonym he was using weeks ago, after all. He'd practiced saying it to himself and to Alice's aunt and uncle until the words fell easily from his lips. And yet, when faced with this rather bland, unassuming, clearly bored man, they came off his tongue in a rush: "Vincent! Vincent Brown!"

The registrar looked at him, one eyebrow quirked. "Vincent Brown?"

Victor nodded, not trusting hs voice. Oh dear, was he suspicious? Was this where it all went wrong? Was this the moment where the registrar declared, 'I think not,
Victor Van Dort,' and then the papers were contacted and his other self's parents started making a scene and he and Alice had to flee to the Nexus to avoid completely destroying everyone's reputations and lives?

The registrar shrugged and noted it down. "Well then, congratulations, Master Brown."

Master Brown. . .


Victor sits on his bed, eyes on his knees, his mind a million miles away. Those two words have been running through his head ever since they got back from the registrar's. He doesn't know why -- he's been content with the idea of using a fake name ever since he and Alice started their wedding plans (which have gotten completely out of control with both Susan being extra-picky about the dress and trying to sneak in little extras AND the sudden disturbing revelation that Alice's universe runs slower than theirs -- what's taken merely a few weeks by her count has been months according to their calendar). It's always been his face he's been most worried about -- though with April's assistance and the general disinterest of underpaid clerks, obviously it's not going to be an issue. Being known by a name that isn't his own in Alice's world didn't really bother him much -- until he actually heard the registrar say it. And he wouldn't say it bothered him as much as. . .

He turns his chosen alias over in his mind. Vincent -- well, there's nothing special about Vincent. He picked that simply because Lord Everglot called him that on the one occasion he spoke to him. It's a V-name, easy to remember and to cover up slips. 'Vincent' doesn't mean anything to him -- he's a 'Victor' through and through.

But Brown. . .

He's been a Van Dort all his life. And over that time, he's come to associate it with various things. Van Dort is being teased and bullied for being the nouveau riche kid. Van Dort is being alternately ignored and scolded by parents who are so wrapped up in their own lives they often seem to forget they have a son. Van Dort is never feeling like you matter -- that people only see your name and never you. Van Dort is loneliness and sadness and a heavy feeling in your chest when you see your parents' reaction to your 'death' is to immediately start arguing over 'who's to blame for him being so delicate.'

Brown, on the other hand. . . Brown is a message in his magical sketchbook, welcoming him to the madness that is Chicago, inviting him over to play piano after reading how much he missed it, checking in on him to make sure he was safe after discovering the Nexus. Brown is a deep voice that's constantly filled with energy, wrapping him up in words he doesn’t quite understand but nevertheless thrills to hear. Brown is a shock of white hair that never lays flat, and big eyes that crackle with electricity, and hissing steam and gear-notched elbows, the mechanics somehow both alien and as comfortable as an old shoe. Brown is getting furious when it appears someone's broken his heart and getting ready to fight on his behalf. Brown is making sure he's safe and comfortable no matter what. Brown is friendship and caring and encouraging him in his dreams, not someone else's. Brown is --

home.

Slowly, Victor rises from his bed and heads into the hall. Just a few moments later, he's at Doc’s garage lab. He hesitates briefly, nerves spiking -- but then he nods, expression growing determined, and knocks. “Doc? Can – can I t-talk to you?”
deadgirlslikeme: (WTF?)
((Follow-on from: this Nexus post))

". . .We could actually go back?"

Alice nods, patting her boyfriend's arm. "Néo and company apparently know someone who can fix 'quantum signatures.' That's the very thing Doc says got altered with your trips through the rifts, isn't it? It means you two could go see your hometowns again. No more mysterious barriers blocking your way."

Doc and Victor look at each other, processing this information. Finally, Doc lets out a faint laugh. "Funny. . .when I first landed in the Nexus, that news would have been music to my ears. Now. . .well, I barely ever think of Hill Valley anymore. The one person I wanted to return for instead followed me here."

"I haven't wanted to return to Burtonsville for ages," Victor confesses, rubbing the back of his head. "Now that. . .well. . .I couldn't go through with the arranged marriage. April told me Victoria would be all right some time ago."

Alice blinks. "So -- ah -- you're actually not interested in their offer?"

Doc frowns thoughtfully. "I wouldn't say that. . .it just doesn't have the importance to me that it might have earlier in my time displaced. While I don't care about moving back to Hill Valley, it would be nice to see it once more. Marty could finally introduce me to all of his friends down at Darkness Falls," he adds with a smile.

"I -- I don't know," Victor admits. "Sometimes I do want to see my parents again, just to make sure everything's all right, but on the other hand. . ." He looks into Alice's eyes. "They'd try to make me marry her. Even with at least two extra years on me and my heart belonging to another. I don't want to have to go through that." He reaches out and takes her hand. "Not when I'm so close to being with you for the rest of my life."

Alice gives his fingers a squeeze. "I understand that. Though I have to say I fall into the 'you should see your parents one last time' camp. Nothing hurts worse in my opinion than missing the chance to say a proper goodbye."

Victor sighs, eyes falling to his feet. "I know. . .and I do feel guilty about just disappearing, even if it wasn't my fault. . .could you give me a little more time to think it over?"

"Of course." She smiles. "I just want you do to what's best for you -- with no regrets."

Victor smiles back at her. "I can't say I'll have none -- but I could never regret any of this."

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Victor (Van Dort) Brown

December 2014

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