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𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
B/t = body type
𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
Viktor finds himself entering the living room and bar, his eyes lumbering around the parlor as his legs do. Yet again, his eyes fall on one of many shrines dedicated to his powered siblings. A shelf of frames decorated with their faces, and front and center is the first of many comics that was made in their honor. It was a cartoon display of his siblings in the infamous bank heist where they first made their public debut. Encircled in bold below, were the words, School Is In Session! Meet The UMBRELLA ACADEMY
On the lower shelves sat their father's favored articles; the Academy's visit to DC, the six of them posing in front of the white house as the title below dubs them the Wonder Kids, or, the eighth wonder of the world. And the other was a framed cover of 'tween hit' magazine, sporting the Academy's smiling masked faces that looked right back at Viktor. It read, exclusive! getting real with UMBRELLA ACADEMY. Down in the far corner, displayed in a bright pink bubble was a [b/t] silhouette advertising a small sub-article.
WE HEARD A RUMOR: Hargreeves Found Eighth Umbrella
Sadly, Viktor pulls himself away from the sight, looking anywhere but. As he travels along the walls he comes upon one of his father's many bookshelves. His eye catches a familiar title, and curiously he pulls it from the rest to see his younger self staring back at him.
Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven by Vanya Hargreeves
It was the copy he had sent his father when he first published. He opened up the front cover where, sure enough, printed across opening pages was his handwriting in permanent marker.
Dad,
I figured, why not?
V.
Try as he might, he couldn't quite picture him reading it. The only scrap of courage he had ever scraped together to tell his father off. And here it was, sitting amongst his father's things.
"Welcome home, Master Vanya," comes a familiar accented voice.
Viktor turns to find just who he suspects, though it is clear he has aged a deal since Viktor had last seen him. The old primate stands across the room in his usual formal attire, cane, and spectacles that somehow completed the ensemble perfectly. Perhaps it was because he always reminded Viktor of his father a bit, except for the smile always worn for himself and his siblings. Not to mention he treated them with kindness, though it never seemed to extend beyond the metaphorical leash Sir Hargreeves had him tethered on.
