I found depravity convinced me I may no longer care, oh, it's a bad, bad ritual but it calms me down

[unpocoloco]

Who: Héctor??? (a demon) and OTA
What: Héctor contemplates his deathday, The Riveras get back into necromancy and something else comes back.
When: Mid-December and post-holidays respectively.
Where: The campus, soliel
Warning: Demonic posession and possible violence (plot with me if you want to fight or be fought, however if you just want your character to run and be spooked then go wild), death talk as always

A - Late To The Funeral

He hadn't forgotten it. It's hard to forget the day you die. Puella's portal thingie hadn't helped. Now he remembers it even clearer than before. At first, he thought he'd just push on through it like any other day. But now, here he is, canceling engagements left and right.

He tells night class teachers he won't be in. He cancels tutoring sessions and guitar lessons. He opens his schedule right up for Imelda and Coco alone but even that, he suspects, will be difficult. And what does he do with his time? Well, it would seem, laying under a tree is his plan.

B - Revival: Uninvited Guest

He closes her door behind him. Nothing different, maybe next time. She's concerned but it's no matter. He'll be gone from here before long.

The body is imperfect. There's a limp but he's sure he can find some way to fix that. Most of the rest is aesthetic, nothing a little glamor here or there can't fix. He's got to follow the rules of the body, adapt to the slips in the mind that he's smothered, but that's fine. With time he can expand. He draws up a white suit and fixes a broken tooth to gold. Push the hair back a little and voilà! Home sweet home. His eyes have already adjusted to a pinkish hue but it's subtle enough he's sure it won't be noticed.

"Schools these days. They'll let just anybody in here," He laughs, then hums. An interesting new voice. A little on the goofy side but here can hear notes beneath, just a touch melodic, and that will be perfect later.

But for now, he's got locks to pick, magical artifacts to destroy, and apparently a few conversations to have, considering who's just caught him in the act. He beams like he wasn't doing a thing wrong.

"Ah! Just the person I wanted to see!"

C - Revival: Comeback Tour

"Héctor's" fingers move over the strings of the guitar, drawing music forth with his normal skill and grace. He sings with his same voice, warm and inviting. But there's a deeper pull now and it lies in the words he sings. From his lips slips a demonic tongue, drawing in whatever weaker souls he can.

"ΔŦŞ€Ξ₣ ΔŁ Δ ΔΜΔŁŁ ØŁỮĆŘíĆ Ł€ ΔĴỮβΞĐ, ΔΞŦŞ€β ΔŁ Δ ŘΔŦŇ€ΜΞŁΔ €Đ ØРΜ€ΞŦ Ş€ ΔŘØĦΔ..."

He grins up at any who join him. He sets his guitar down, exchanging it for a glittering knife.

"Hola! I'm glad you're here. Now, hold still."

D - Coming Soon To Theaters

He doesn't know why he's watching this. Self-torment perhaps? He still feels awful in more ways than one, and yet he can't bring himself to turn the TV off. It's all the morbid fascination of a wreck, or maybe it would be more apt to say that he is the wreck and on-screen is the over-confident captain declaring he will never sink.

Actually on-screen is an over-confident musician, smiling in that smarmy way of his while Héctor stares witheringly back. Ernesto is, of course, unaware of him.

"A full-length feature film! That's an incredible surprise! And you've already started working?"

"Si. We only have a few more scenes left to shoot as a matter of fact. We'll be doing that here, in beautiful France, before we return to wrap in my home, México. Perhaps fittingly, that is the name of my new movie; El Camino A Casa."

Héctor feels his eye twitch.

"Featuring all your favorite songs, including--"

Héctor stands and slams the off button.

"That's enough out of you!"

Comments

C

[spelleton]

Ekkehardt looks fascinated, and he doesn't make any move or signs of alarm when the knife comes out. Why wouldn't he come here? His friend is playing, after all. Everything is absolutely fine.

"Of course," he says, pleasantly and distantly, like nothing is wrong.

(He could just come in threatening, of course, with knives out and teeth bared. But he doesn't want whatever it is that's in Héctor's body now to get any ideas about using his corpse as a shield. He'd like to prevent further trauma to the man, on the whole.)

[unpocoloco]

How delightful. The man walks right in and it's a fight not to seem too giddy. That's not how his host behaves.

Ekkehardt may not have come with knives out, but he does. He sidles right up, pauses, then circles. As he does, that old power lights. When he walks back around, "Héctor" is down to bones.

"Ay, mi amigo, this is a problem!" He tuts and taps the flat of the blade against his own boney palm. "You're like me! Which means you don't have what I need." Tap, tap. "But I'll not have you think you aren't useful."

He reaches his free hand, gripping Ekkehardt's shoulder. There's more strength there than there would normally be. The knife rises and hovers by the mask, Ekkehardt's eyes, a scar hidden away. He smiles with Héctor's bright smile, "We know other ways to take care of you, don't we?"

[spelleton]

As if he needed more confirmation that this isn't Héctor; he wouldn't be surprised. (Not the same memories, either, or hasn't thought to dig into them too deeply yet.

Good.)

The man's (?) hand grips his shoulder, the knife is raised, and Ekkehardt jolts backward in alarm, his face a mask of surprise. (He shifts the bandages around his forearms, where they can't be felt by someone gripping his shoulder.)

"W-what do you mean by that?" There's the slightest calculated waver, a nervous stutter. "How far can he be read? "Héctor, what's the matter with you?"

A

[hattersgonnahat]

[Hm, why a tree though?]

[Puella doesn't say anything but she does take a peek at whatever he was up to. Generally she would've found him indoors or grading papers or something, so this was kind of new.]

[unpocoloco]

[Reasons, Puella.

He's not doing much today. Mostly looking up at the stars through icy branches or closing his eyes just to... be. Though he is bundled up to be warm, all in pieces he was gifted.

But he's also (always now) still too aware of being watched to miss her. His head lifts.]

Hola, Puella.

[hattersgonnahat]

Why are you out here?

[She knows the cold does and doesn't bother him, but...]

C

[trademark_skull]

He's not weak, for once, not in the way that should have him affected, but he does know what he heard. And it's not something that seemed to fit his new, musical friend(???) and was maybe worth instigating.

Oh, and then there was the knife too.

"What for?" Emizel spoke somewhat deadpan - almost a sarcastic mock that he knew this was about to be a bad time.

[unpocoloco]

He pauses and makes a face at Emeziel.

"Come on, kid, don't be rude," He says, knowing full well that this kid has never been anything but rude. At least not according to memory. He puts on a smile anyway.

"I need something, of course! Though, I'm not actually sure if you'll have it." He taps his chin in thought.

[trademark_skull]

Being rude is the only thing he does know!

...And no that answer does not make it any better.

"If I have what?" WHY DID HE ASK THAT ANYWAY?

C - I'm down with plotting for a fight, buuuut he's just as likely to run to find help

[septimo_rueda]

[ He blinks... and then lifts his hands in a 'whoa, I'm harmless' gesture. Jeez, he's barely even part of this school and there's already a dude with a knife! ]

Hooooola...?

[ Nope, not holding still. He's already taking a step or two away from the crazy guy. ]

Sorry, man, but uh... You know how ADHD is, right? Holding still isn't really my [ another step ] thing.

That's fine! I just want to be prepared if any injuries are happening in either direction!

[unpocoloco]

Ah! That's not a problem!

[He hops up to his feet.]

I'm not one for holding still either. At least not where I can help it.

[He takes a few steps closer, trying to fill the gap that's been made. The limp makes itself obvious but he seems to be ignoring it.]

No problem! \o/ It shooooould be fine, since he can nyoom~ I'll poke you if that starts to change

[septimo_rueda]

[ Hmmmm...

Leo notices the limp, for sure, and just . . . very casually moves in an attempt to stay on that same side. If he can do that, he'll be able to keep an upper hand - maybe. Who knows, honestly, since he's been surprised many times. ]

Ever considered taking up jogging?

[ Given the jerk's apparently planning to stab him, Leo's got no issues being a total brat. ]

Anyway, what do you even want with me, huh?

c!

[escardos]

[ facing the “thing” in front of him, flat doesn’t seem to be too bothered by it. perhaps his heart has skipped a few beats as his instinctive flight response rings a bell, but what’s in front of him is just too interesting to go away just yet.

even if it has a knife.

flat wishes that they had a knife too, at this moment. ]

Ahaha, that’s a pretty strange language you were singing in, sir. Do you greet everyone with a knife?

[unpocoloco]

Strange is a word. But I think it's more pretty. Even if no one understands, it's a language that everyone feels all the same.

[A song of hunger that calls to its prey...

He's rising to his feet, stepping closer.]

Of course, I don't greet everyone with a knife. You've just got caught me at a good time.

[escardos]

It is pretty, isn’t it? It reminds me of a carnivorous plant. They’re capable of attracting bugs because they smell so sweet, you know?

[ flat places his hands behind his back, only glancing once at the knife before looking back up at “hector” with a smile that’s a little too bright, considering the situation. ]

So, sir, what are you? A demon? A vengeful spirit? Something between the two? I’d really like to know!

c

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[Honestly, he's barely talked to Hector - so the demon's odd language doesn't get much out of him, beyond noting that it isn't a human one, and feeling the slight pull on his...soul?

He could resist it, but this is interesting - and he barely seems to even react when the knife comes out and he's told to stay still, an eyebrow raising quietly.]

...If you're about to stab me, at least give me a moment to text someone so I can warn them in advance.

[unpocoloco]

[The daemon falters. His mouth opens and closes, trying to make sense of the reaction that is both too subdued and completely nonsensical.

His head shakes and he points with his knife.]

If I were about to stab you why exactly would I let you give anyone a warning?

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Oh no, I don't want to warn anyone about you. I just want to give Holmes a heads up that he's about to experience the pain of being stabbed.

[And, indeed, he just....texts that out real quick.

about to be stabbed.
sorry about the pain but it's not my fault or doing this time]

There. Now go on, take your best shot.

[...He puts his phone away and fucking opens up his arms, baring his torso.]

B

[improbablenotimpossible]

Being one of the other nighttime TA, he picked up on some of the classes Hector had asked to be let off of, not that he minded, sometimes people needed a break.

So when he left for the night, strolling with that odd cane of his, when he notices a familiar figure, who addressed him.

"You're dressed up rather nice tonight,"

[unpocoloco]

He pauses at the non-greeting to look down at his own clothing, but he seems only proud. He grips the edges of his charro coat with a grin.

"Muy guapo, yeah? I thought I'd change it up. You know, life is short, live in the moment as they say." The new gold tooth catches the light. "Plus I was thinking to go out later."

His eyes fall to the cane. Héctor has one but this one is definitely better.

[improbablenotimpossible]

The glint of the tooth, the crispness of the coat - and he noted the gaze falling upon his cane. Little things, little details - something just doesn't seem right.

What does it say? He needs to dig in a little more. "Ah, this thing? A gift from a friend I made in Lhasa long ago, something to help me focus." Sherlock started conversationally. "Hm, I didn't realize the infirmary staff did dental work."

B

[betheman]

Gongenzaka isn't especially used to Héctor wanting to see him. Actually he's more used to catching the guy in a situation where he really Doesn't want to be seen by him, but that's happened far less in recent times fortunately enough.

That aside, he's...pretty sure this isn't his usual style? Hrm. The bear- and he is of course a bear for the moment- blinks rather owlishly, having literally turned the corner to...this?

"Auh...I am?"

Well count HIM clueless on what the Heck is going on, Héc.

[unpocoloco]

It's not necessarily not his style. Just one he hasn't had the mind or means to take up in a long, long time.

He doesn't seem perturbed by the bear being confused. Mostly because he isn't. He sidles right up, reaching high to pat a hand to the bear's back.

"Why, of course! We're friends, right?"

C, weak to that voice, sigh

[deuteranope]

[While he has no way of noticing the pinkish hue to Héctor's eyes, he's pretty certain that isn't Spanish... Not really sure what it is, but coming from Héctor it sounds nice, that warm welcoming tone that's lured him in more times than once. Even with the guitar lessons and music club, it feels a little strange to see him playing so casually out in the open, but he's not going to complain. Just make his lazy way over, hands in his pockets, and plop down nearby to listen.]

Hey --

[uh, wait. That's not right. At least his body reacts while his mind is stuck trying to process what the problem here is, hand moving to grip his own knife. He should probably feel bad that it's the part of himself he controls that's been put under the daemonic charm and only instinct driven into him by over a decade of nightmares helping him out -- maybe later, when he's shaken off this weird desire to comply and stay near. Hell, he's fucking stupid.]

What...? Why?

[This really, really is not right, he knows that much. He needs to get up, brace himself, something, anything. Why the hell isn't he moving yet?]

This poor kid...

[unpocoloco]

[He smiles brightly when the boy joins him. Maverick, that's right. The memories are all right there. A very good kid. He would've made a good host too, but he doesn't always get to choose these things. He'll be able to take a piece and that will be enough.

All is well and good. That is until Maverick makes to grab his own knife. His smile slips a little, for half a second. Well, it's no matter.]

Because I need something from you. You'll help me, right? You've always been helpful to me. You like to be helpful. Useful.

You liked the song, didn't you? Just think of that now.