Here in the dark, in these final hours, I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power

[unpocoloco]

WHO: Héctor, OTA Catch All
WHERE: Around the school
WHEN: Various times after the 9th and/or the Valentines dance
WHAT: Various opens in the late evening
WARNINGS: Standard spoilers

You can't turn around a bad day, week, month, year, decade... you can't turn any of that without trying first. And so, once the monster's beaten back, his lost arm is returned, and the dance wraps up, so begins his annual rejuvenation. It's his return to the grind, starting every January (late this year but, well, he's doing his best), when he goes back to the drawing board and renews his plans-- only this time, not just for his return home. He's got a few things in mind this year, and isn't that exciting in and of itself?

A - OTA

With his arm back in place and whole again (gone for that week of the 2nd to the 9th and leaving him looking more like a zombie to people than he'd ever let himself before), he can actually get back to repairing the other one who took some hits this past while.

Rather than steal from the shop class, this time Héctor has decided to break in. Which, considering how much they let him use this place for doing repairs around the school, it isn't really breaking in is it? He doesn't think so. And so, upon a work table, in the dead of night, he's lain out a broken guitar. He's got nails and tools, bits of wood and scrap metal, anything he thought he could need for trying to repair the old thing. The guitar's not going to sound good when he's done, but it'll be something.

Despite everything, he's not quite ready to give up on music yet. In fact, he takes to humming a little as he works, breaking into soft song only to quiet again into humming as he hammers and cuts and sands away at the guitar. Until he hears footsteps and abruptly stops, that is.

B - Aube

Not every night can be spent on fixing the guitar. He's still got occasional evening classes to TA for, things to mark, essays to read. On those nights, he settles in the Aube common room, quietly working this time.

Being nocturnal as he is means bad news for any kids sneaking out of the dorm late in the night. "Ah, ah!" He says to any looking a little too ready to go, eyes lifting from his work to them and brows lifting higher. "Did you text Bee for this little excursion?"

C - Aube

Of course, not every child getting up in the night is looking for rowdy adventure. He knows all too well by now that some of these kids have had more adventure than they ever asked or bargained for. Those quiet wanderers, or ones who settle in corners, they're no less apt to get his attention.

He gives them their moment of space and quiet. Just a moment. Then, trying not to scare or disturb them, he walks over, placing a hand to the back of any given chair and tilting his head down at them.

"Hey," He says, soft as he can. "You okay? Can't sleep?"

D - OTA

In the early mornings, for any early risers who seek him (and not one of the smarter or more experienced of adults in this place) he's of course there to tutor those who need it. He may not always know what he's doing with magic but he can work out a lesson and, more than that, he can work with kids.

He draws another example upon paper when he can't simply show it, and he presents it, explaining each piece and part. "Do you understand?" He asks.

Perhaps you're the one he's tutoring. Or, perhaps, you're catching him just as the last kid wanders off and he's gathering up the books and papers, time soon running out with the coming dawn. But he might have time for one more.

E - OTA

He doesn't know the first thing about this, any of this. He keeps telling himself he's not a fighter, but more and more he's coming to realize he might need to be. It's not just about him anymore.

That evening he finds himself in one of the training areas. The bow he takes up is tall and heavy, heavier than a guitar. He's got the dexterity for that and the experiencing of firing... his arm. But it's not the same and he hasn't entirely got the strength built in him for using this thing. He's not sure if he can build the strength or if what he's got is as good as it's going to get. But he can't see himself yet using anything else.

So, there he is in the range, practicing. His shots mostly miss but every now and again he gets somewhere and he's encouraged to go farther. He gives a little laugh of victory and surprise in these moments. Hopefully he's not interrupting anything.

Of course in all his focus, anyone interrupting him is almost certain to make him jump and yelp and send and arrow flying far off target.

F - OTA

At some point before the library's closing for the night, he's managed to surround himself so thoroughly in books that he's built something of a wall around himself. His hand is half tangled in his hair and his brow is knit with concentration, pencil tapping absentmindedly in his other hand as he reads. The books seem to be all about defensive and offensive runes and spells.

"Wait, what?" He straightens up, flipping pages back, and then to his current page, comparing them. "That doesn't make sense, how can you-- what?"

G -[Closed to Orihime]

"Orihime?"

The call comes with a knock. Finally, at long last, he can repay this girl. He's ready at her door, smiling in his newly repaired clothing and holding a bag of tools and materials (nabbed from the shop class as usual).

As the door opens he laughs and say, "Repair service! Is now a good time?"

H - St. Valentine's eve - [Closed to close CR and/or those who ask first]

He's only been here so long, only saved up so much and a lot of it goes towards his hopeful plans. But for this, he can spare a small expense.

The shopkeeper had eyed him curiously, as exhausted and nervous as he'd appeared to be that morning of the thirteenth, pushing the limits of his magic into the day. He knows, in some sense, that he shouldn't. He really, really shouldn't.

But it's the first time in ten years he could do anything and... well, she deserves something. After ten years she deserves so much and a simple carnation or rose just isn't cutting it. Even this doesn't quite but... he can't push more, because even with this, the best gift he could give is his distance.

The note simply reads "for Imelda Rivera" in fancy calligraphic script. He presses the tiny card to his lips then places it back into the bouquet. It's a bright one, colorful, with full, giant blooms. There's soft pinks and bright ones, oranges and reds and blues, greenery, and vivid purples-- her favorite. It'll remind her of home, he's sure.

Off he goes into the night, bringing his delivery to the Lumiere dorms. He just needs to leave it at her door and go. So far so good. He won't get to see her reaction like this, but that's fine. She doesn't need to be happy with him, he just needs her to be happy. That's what he tells himself as he slowly and quietly works his way back, turns the corner-- and freezes, a deer in headlights as the second worst thing that could happen here, does.

I - Other, Make your own

Comments

[unpocoloco]

He's just going to make another face at Peter. A nice long deadpanned stare, complete with slow blinks.

[made_up_names]

He's teasing, Héc. Jeez. As evidenced by this shit-eating grin.

"But I guess I'll just try and keep you out of trouble by building you weapons instead," he says. "Long as you don't mind the first couple iterations probably sucking."

[unpocoloco]

He snorts. "Keeping me out of trouble, that's a new one," He teases back.

But he shakes his head. "I don't mind. It sounds fun. Just maybe don't make anything that's gonna break me, I'm a brittle man."

[made_up_names]

"That's the whole idea," he says, a thoughtful look overcoming him. Where'd his notebook go? Oh yeah, over here. He stoops to retrieve it. "I'm gonna need measurements and stuff."

[unpocoloco]

"Oh! Yeah, sure. You got any kind of measuring tape? I can give you my height but that's about what I know." Who goes and measures their arms? Except insecure teenage boys who want to be a little bigger than they can ever genetically be. Thankfully, that wasn't him, because he always had Ernesto to compare to and realize the guy still looked like a doofus to him.

[made_up_names]

"Oh, yeah," he says, getting to his feet. "It's in my room. Gimme a second."

He'll ditch his stuff for a second to go retrieve it.

[unpocoloco]

"I'll be right here," He promises, leaning back against the couch as Peter takes off.

A thought occurs, with Peter out of view. It's something to try. Maybe, it'll help them-- he, May, Gwen-- work some things out.

As soon as Peter returns, he greets, "Welcome back."

[made_up_names]

It turns out that Peter's measuring tape is actually a long piece of string he's wrapped around a dowel, with little flags for the measurement increments. But it'll work, okay. He'll get right to work if Héctor doesn't mind.

"Thanks," he says brightly. "Looks like everything's still here."

[unpocoloco]

He looks a little surprised for a second, but he's soon smiling in understanding. Peter would have fit right in with his familia, all their ingenuity with what little they had. The thought aches somewhat.

"Perfect. Do you mind if I have that for a moment?"

[made_up_names]

He pauses for a second. Confused, but. He offers it to Héctor? "Sure, why not?"

[unpocoloco]

His smile grows into a full grin as he takes it. He flicks the dowel a bit, getting that string to roll right out to the floor. He steps on the end, and does so as close as he can by Peter's foot. He pulls it taught and then pinches the string, even to the top of Peter's head.

And then he turns that devious grin on Peter. "There. Now we can tell exactly how much taller I am than you," He says, laughing. "I'm used to metric, what would you say this is, 5 foot...?"

[made_up_names]

Hey. Hey. He immediately looks a bit embarrassed. "Five foot six," he says, kind of offended? Rude, Héctor. "Five foot would be really tiny okay. And I'm not that short."

Kind of short, yes, okay.

[unpocoloco]

This is turnabout, or something. Probably.

But really more importantly it keeps Peter from thinking too much on this. It'll be harder to ask and check again in the future, but at least he knows what they're going off of.

"Ah, cool it, Chamaco. Everybody's different! It's not actually a big deal. I'm taller than just about everybody except Imelda's brothers. Those two are monsters." He passes the measuring string back.

[made_up_names]

"I'll get taller," he says, grumbling a little. "You watch out. I'll be taller than you some day."

There's literally no chance that would happen even if he were aging properly. Kid's gonna top out at 5'8", max.

[unpocoloco]

"Mmmmm, I highly doubt that. Ernesto used to say the same thing and he was taller than you."

And, of course, is that little twist of fear Peter won't go anywhere at all, but he's getting better at pushing that aside.

"Okay, tell me what we're measuring. Do I need to roll up my sleeves? Show you the bones at all?"

[made_up_names]

He sighs a little. "Nah, keep your shirt on. You're gonna be wearing it when you're using the bow anyway."

He'll just go through a bunch of measurements here. Mostly surrounding his arm, but also his torso and waist.

[unpocoloco]

"Alright." He stands straight and holds his arms loosely out. "Have at me."

What Peter's sure to find is that he's rather horrifically skinny, even more so than he seems. The clothes do a lot to hide how corpse-like he actually still is, even like this.

"This isn't going to interfere with any of your class work is it?"

[made_up_names]

Yeesh. He's kind of worried about you, Héc? He understands he probably can't just eat more or work out or whatever, but. IT doesn't seem particularly healthy. Even for a dead guy.

"Nah, it's fine," he says, jotting down the last measurement. "I'm failing like half my classes anyway, so who cares?"

[unpocoloco]

Dead and healthy didn't usually go hand in hand. Peter was very much an exception to that.

It's good that Peter's got the last measurement down because he immediately jolts in place. "Wait, what!? You're failing? But you're like... this crazy smart kid, how can you be failing?"

[made_up_names]

He is exaggerating a little; it's probably just one class he's actually failing, with the rest being kinda low but still, y'know, passable. But close enough in his head. He winces a little.

"Because I can't cast spells," he says. "Except runes. Like, I can do all the theory stuff, but when I try to cast, nothing happens."

[unpocoloco]

Exaggerating or no, this clearly isn't some manner of Peter just not trying. No kid takes to a bad grade well if they're really being honest with themselves, besides. His faces falls.

"...Why didn't you tell me, mijo? I'm not a spell caster either but I am a TA. We could've been talking to your teachers, trying to study together by now." He sighs. "Okay, bow on hold. Lets see what you've got and what you can do."

[made_up_names]

Peter has tried as hard as he can. Hell, he's trying now - admittedly with the subject he's best at, but he's sort of hoping to get a breakthrough that helps with the rest.

"I don't need that kind of help," he says stubbornly. "I know the spells. Orihime gave me some of Radiance and then I cast them just fine. But I can't do it on my own." A pause. "I think it's some kind of allergy. When I cast spells with hers, it looked like I had a bad sunburn."

[unpocoloco]

He frowns at Peter's stubbornness, more than prepared to be stubborn right back. Until Peter brings up a burn. He looks alarmed, before returning back to frowning. He goes to lean against the couch back again.

"Mijo," He says, sighing still more, "You're blighted." In case Peter had forgotten. "You can't rely on things like radiance. It doesn't effect you as bad but it's still going to have an effect. Just like any other blight repellent." And Peter remembers how that went in the dumpster none too long ago.

"Maybe you didn't know, I only just read about it myself looking up spells, but you've probably noticed with your headaches? Flames get bright and it starts to burn a little?" The name was fitting. He's glad to finally know what the heck that was. He folds his arms and taps his fingers a little, thinking. "If you could use the spell after, it probably means your blight is interfering. What you need to do is redirect it."

He straightens up, walking over to the table and pulling out a chair. He grabs another one to face opposite and sits down. He taps the opposite. "Come, sit."

[made_up_names]

He honestly had forgotten that, to be honest. He's so used to his spider-powers being a part of him that he forgets where they came from. He sort of stops dead for a moment, remembering the dumpster too. And the zombie mission, and ...

Well okay that's a pretty firm amount of evidence, huh.

"I didn't think of it that way," he says, a little uncertain. He moves to sit down across from Héctor, his expression thoughtful. "But you're right. I guess that's all true."

[unpocoloco]

"And this is why you should've come to me," He says, giving Peter's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he sits. "Just because I'm not one of those powerful mages or super experienced teachers doesn't mean I can't be a clearer head sometimes."

Your dumb Tío is only a little dumb on occasion, Peter.

He lets go and reaches across the table, pulling over the books he's got and flipping one open for spells. "Okay, okay, let's see... need one simple but still relevant for class..." He glances to Peter. "Any preference?"