Héctor (
unpocoloco) wrote in
daybreakacademy2020-07-16 07:31 am
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But it's too late to come on home. Can the city forgive? I hear its sad song
Who: You and... hm. Do you know that guy?
What: An enchantment takes hold
When: July
Where: Daybreak Academy
Warning: Death discussion, memoryloss things
Notes: For information regarding Héctor's plot see here. As discussed, around this time, he'll be little more than a fuzzy memory when not around.
A - Lost Things
"Why does this keep happening?"
The irate voice comes from the lost and found. In it, there's a scuffling noise. This is followed by the dumping out of things, a skeleton popping out from the mess of items, with a manner of things draping over him like weeds of a swamp. He's tugging at something, each word punctuated by another yank.
"I! Still! Live here! AAH!" The guitar comes free and nearly topples him.
B - Flicker
"Ah, Rivera, was it? Would you like to demonstrate?"
The other faculty, the ones that aren't his friends and are merely his co-workers, take in his "new" status with some struggle. They're kind, but awkward, unsure, in the way of dealing with one who is neither doing well or easy to help. At least, that's how they were before they started forgetting he worked and learned there. Now it's all the awkwardness on top of acting like he's a stranger.
"A simple spell," He says. "Even for those with blight. It's just a matter of rerouting your power..."
Magic is just willpower... He'd been so stupid. He could do magic but he couldn't use his brain to realize anything really going on before it was too late. He couldn't stop himself from dying again.
"Focus in. You want to move your hands like so."
He couldn't stop himself from disappearing.
"And see, I've drawn up a bit of light."
Fading.
"Sir? You're shaking... and... flickering?"
Being forgotten.
All at once, the flickering goes out of control. It sputters out and leaves him drained. He braces on a desk, nearly toppling. His empty jaw works while the class stares at him and he meets none of their eyes.
"Forgive me. I think I ought to head to the infirmary," He says, and he excuses himself out the door before there's any chance of comment. He heads in the entirely opposite direction.
C - Last Call
He dials up a number for... he's lost count now how many times the call has failed to go through. He listens to the ring of it, like it's a cigarette he's smoking, a lifeline and a killer at once. He waits for it to hit voice mail like it so often does now. But there's a click and sound.
"Hello?"
He gasps and just about slams the phone to his skull.
"Coco? Hello?" He feels like he's grasping the edge of a cliff as he clings to this phone.
"Who's this?" And that feels like a stomp on his grappling fingers.
"Papá! It's your Papá, Coco...!"
"...Oh... Oh! Papá! Hola, Papá!" A happy note finally breaks through the confusion. He makes a noise between a sob and a laugh.
"Hola, Mija. It's so good to hear you," He says.
"You too! Are- are you okay? You sound upset."
"I'm not. I'm fine," He lies. "I've just really missed hearing from you. How is everyone? Your Mamá and you..."
"Ummm, they're okay, I think. It's been un poco loco here-- oh! That reminds me! I got an invitation? It's really weird, kind of nowhere... but I was invited to an Ernesto De La Cruz concert--" There's a rough sound on the other end. "Oh! Oh no! I'm sorry, I have to go! I'll talk to you soon, Papá--"
"Mija? Mija! Wait--"
The line goes dead. He stands there and he feels oddly cold. The world feels like it's tilting off balance.
Ernesto invited Coco to his concert...?
His murderer invited his daughter...
Oh god. Oh god.
He starts to run. He doesn't know where exactly he's going, only that he's got to do something find something... He bumps into someone, falling back and sending pieces clattering.
"Perdóname!" He says, quickly summoning back the loosened pieces.
D - One-Way Ticket
He'd heard about it, of course. Those kids who went and helped with Ernesto's movie, some of them were rewarded. Fancy tickets, accommodation and transportation afforded for them already in some cases. He just needed to find one, and, eventually, he does. He takes it from the kid's room while they're out, feeling a little scuzzy for this level of sneaking, but knowing he's doing the kid a favor, as well as saving his daughter's life, he pushes on.
In no time, he's called up the number. He'll get in and let whatever vehicle it is take him. The hunters will catch up to him eventually but, by that time, he'll have found Coco and she'll be safe. What happens after doesn't matter.
He'll need a disguise for the trip, something that appears mostly living. Gloves, long sleeves, plenty of cover-- he can pass it off as a rich people thing. What to do about his head, his face... A veil? A hat with a veil? And then some of the scarves he was given... He's going to look stupid but he doesn't care.
He glances up at the school, lit by moonlight and stars that make it seems even more than usual like some beautiful palace from a fairytale. He's surprised, really, how attached he's grown to this place, even while trying to flee it. He wonders, for a wrenching moment, if he'll see it again.
Should he say goodbye? Is there any point, when no one remembers him? Maybe it's for the best... maybe, this way, he won't leave pain like he did all those other times he walked from people he cared about. He'll fade from mind, from their hearts, and he won't leave a scar this time when he also fades. Yes, probably for the best. But he can't help himself from wandering up to the nearest roaming soul.
"Hola," He says, smiling like nothing's wrong. "A nice night, right? Going for a walk?"
What: An enchantment takes hold
When: July
Where: Daybreak Academy
Warning: Death discussion, memoryloss things
Notes: For information regarding Héctor's plot see here. As discussed, around this time, he'll be little more than a fuzzy memory when not around.
A - Lost Things
"Why does this keep happening?"
The irate voice comes from the lost and found. In it, there's a scuffling noise. This is followed by the dumping out of things, a skeleton popping out from the mess of items, with a manner of things draping over him like weeds of a swamp. He's tugging at something, each word punctuated by another yank.
"I! Still! Live here! AAH!" The guitar comes free and nearly topples him.
B - Flicker
"Ah, Rivera, was it? Would you like to demonstrate?"
The other faculty, the ones that aren't his friends and are merely his co-workers, take in his "new" status with some struggle. They're kind, but awkward, unsure, in the way of dealing with one who is neither doing well or easy to help. At least, that's how they were before they started forgetting he worked and learned there. Now it's all the awkwardness on top of acting like he's a stranger.
"A simple spell," He says. "Even for those with blight. It's just a matter of rerouting your power..."
Magic is just willpower... He'd been so stupid. He could do magic but he couldn't use his brain to realize anything really going on before it was too late. He couldn't stop himself from dying again.
"Focus in. You want to move your hands like so."
He couldn't stop himself from disappearing.
"And see, I've drawn up a bit of light."
Fading.
"Sir? You're shaking... and... flickering?"
Being forgotten.
All at once, the flickering goes out of control. It sputters out and leaves him drained. He braces on a desk, nearly toppling. His empty jaw works while the class stares at him and he meets none of their eyes.
"Forgive me. I think I ought to head to the infirmary," He says, and he excuses himself out the door before there's any chance of comment. He heads in the entirely opposite direction.
C - Last Call
He dials up a number for... he's lost count now how many times the call has failed to go through. He listens to the ring of it, like it's a cigarette he's smoking, a lifeline and a killer at once. He waits for it to hit voice mail like it so often does now. But there's a click and sound.
"Hello?"
He gasps and just about slams the phone to his skull.
"Coco? Hello?" He feels like he's grasping the edge of a cliff as he clings to this phone.
"Who's this?" And that feels like a stomp on his grappling fingers.
"Papá! It's your Papá, Coco...!"
"...Oh... Oh! Papá! Hola, Papá!" A happy note finally breaks through the confusion. He makes a noise between a sob and a laugh.
"Hola, Mija. It's so good to hear you," He says.
"You too! Are- are you okay? You sound upset."
"I'm not. I'm fine," He lies. "I've just really missed hearing from you. How is everyone? Your Mamá and you..."
"Ummm, they're okay, I think. It's been un poco loco here-- oh! That reminds me! I got an invitation? It's really weird, kind of nowhere... but I was invited to an Ernesto De La Cruz concert--" There's a rough sound on the other end. "Oh! Oh no! I'm sorry, I have to go! I'll talk to you soon, Papá--"
"Mija? Mija! Wait--"
The line goes dead. He stands there and he feels oddly cold. The world feels like it's tilting off balance.
Ernesto invited Coco to his concert...?
His murderer invited his daughter...
Oh god. Oh god.
He starts to run. He doesn't know where exactly he's going, only that he's got to do something find something... He bumps into someone, falling back and sending pieces clattering.
"Perdóname!" He says, quickly summoning back the loosened pieces.
D - One-Way Ticket
He'd heard about it, of course. Those kids who went and helped with Ernesto's movie, some of them were rewarded. Fancy tickets, accommodation and transportation afforded for them already in some cases. He just needed to find one, and, eventually, he does. He takes it from the kid's room while they're out, feeling a little scuzzy for this level of sneaking, but knowing he's doing the kid a favor, as well as saving his daughter's life, he pushes on.
In no time, he's called up the number. He'll get in and let whatever vehicle it is take him. The hunters will catch up to him eventually but, by that time, he'll have found Coco and she'll be safe. What happens after doesn't matter.
He'll need a disguise for the trip, something that appears mostly living. Gloves, long sleeves, plenty of cover-- he can pass it off as a rich people thing. What to do about his head, his face... A veil? A hat with a veil? And then some of the scarves he was given... He's going to look stupid but he doesn't care.
He glances up at the school, lit by moonlight and stars that make it seems even more than usual like some beautiful palace from a fairytale. He's surprised, really, how attached he's grown to this place, even while trying to flee it. He wonders, for a wrenching moment, if he'll see it again.
Should he say goodbye? Is there any point, when no one remembers him? Maybe it's for the best... maybe, this way, he won't leave pain like he did all those other times he walked from people he cared about. He'll fade from mind, from their hearts, and he won't leave a scar this time when he also fades. Yes, probably for the best. But he can't help himself from wandering up to the nearest roaming soul.
"Hola," He says, smiling like nothing's wrong. "A nice night, right? Going for a walk?"
D
His brows knitted, unsure why he was so startled - he wasn't that absorbed in his playing, and he - he knows his friend, right? Why that reaction...?
"It's a good night... I've been staying in cities for so long I've forgotten how the stars can look on a summer's night." Sherlock started, lowering the bow.
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"Only cities? Hah, must be rough. But they do look nice, don't they?" He turns his gaze up at them.
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"It does make for a good backdrop to play music against, doesn't it?"
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"We're all drawn to what suits our hearts best, I think. And homesick for wherever we are not. It's what happens when we leave pieces of ourselves here and there."
He nods his head. He hums.
"A good backdrop, sí. It's something as old as music, all making up the first stories... Would you mind terribly if I asked for a song? I don't have my guitar with me."
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"I don't mind, do you have anything particular in mind?"
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"Nothing particular," He says. "Something soft perhaps. But whatever pleases you."
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"That's just right," He breathes. "Perfect. Thank you."
He understands the ghosts he's played for much better now. This isn't the moment he'll fade away completely, but it will hold him for the moment he leaves the school
D
Daybreak. Always full of surprises.
< Uh, hey. > No recognition in his nonverbal voice. Much less open than he would have been a month ago. < I know, I know, this looks weird. >
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But, in this case, he can replace if with something genuine. It's faint, but his smile is warm, fond.
"Not at all," He says. "You two seem to be getting along well. Always good to see."
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< Yeah. Maybe one of these days I'll get her to purr. I bet that would be a first for hawk-kind. >
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Hawk-kind. He had hoped Tobias had moved past this enough to try humanity even without him. He doesn't comment on it.
"You know, from my experience with cats, the mostly likely time to hear a purr is when they're comforting you. They're surprisingly empathetic, despite the stereotype."
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It doesn't stop him from enjoying human things. Like petting cats. < I believe it. I've seen some sweet cats. Anyway, I've made progress. Maybe we'll share a mouse too eventually. > Deja vu. Has he made that joke before?
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"Share a mouse? Might want to get more than one. Would be a pretty difficult thing to share something so small," He teases.
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< Hey, it's the thought that counts. Anyway, I've definitely gotten more than one mouse in my life. >
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He shakes his head and sighs.
"So, she's really coming around?"
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< Yeah. It's nice. I wasn't sure she would, I didn't think I'd get this close. > Not without being smacked upside the head or bitten... he really can do anything a human could, apparently.
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He shrugs.
"Even in normal human circles, some people think cats can see souls. Maybe yours can tell you don't mean harm."
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< Maybe. That'd explain a lot. You'd think there would be someone out there who'd tried to use magic to talk to animals and find out for sure. >
There probably is, but on the other hand... he wouldn't want his secrets revealed by a pet cat, of all things.
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< That only makes me an expert on birds of prey. Them, I can talk to without magic. The tricky part is getting them to care about the weirder questions. >
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"No, I mean, why stop there? You've got that but there are tons of spells, magical tools. In this world, you can do almost anything!"
Almost.
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He nibbles at the cat's ears idly... < Been there, done that. Learned a lot of handy thing over the last year, as much magic as I can. Also, helped kill Dracula not too long ago. >
That he drops so casually, with a bit of smugness, because he can and because it's funny. Hard to top that!
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He repeats that with no small amount of amusement. Strange, he'd been there, but he'd completely forgotten. Too focused on living and dying.
"Must have been some battle."