Héctor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unpocoloco) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
daybreakacademy2019-02-13 09:59 am
unpocoloco) wrote in daybreakacademy2019-02-13 09:59 am
Here in the dark, in these final hours, I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power
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
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
no subject
He leans over the table, watching him flip through pages. Curious and thoughtful again. "Uh - how about a light spell?" he says. "Something really basic."
no subject
"Ah! That's a good choice." Light spell it is. He does a quick reading review, then turns back to face Peter, setting in his seat. He leans a bit inward, hands up.
"Okay, so the thing about this is that you can't use spells the same as most would. A candle's going to find their power from within--" He hovers one hand over his heart. "--and it's just going to come out naturally. But, since you're blighted, you need to pull on your blight specifically. Kind of... trick it." He gives Peter a look to say, You following? His hands go back out again.
"Now, just as warning, I am going to light up but I'm not going to shift, so try not to worry." And once he's sure Peter is braced, his eyes close. As promised, the markings under his skin light up. The glow runs down his bones, right to the tips of his fingers. Under his breath, he mutters the spell, preforming the hand motions as he remembers them, like a conductor. And then his hands flick to a stop and there, cupped in his hands, is a glowing bit of light. His eyes open and he beams at Peter, still glowing himself. And then he drops both and the room goes a little darker. He shakes the slight tremble from his fingers.
"So, what you're going to do? You're going to find those sticky powers of yours. On purpose. Then, as you're focusing them on your hands, just imagine that power... extending past you. And as you're doing that, try the spell. I find it helps to think about someone you really, really care about, that you'd want to show it to. Even if you can't."
no subject
"Were you thinking of Imelda then?" he asks, his voice soft. "Or Coco?"
Since Héctor has been so kind in helping him, he'll repay it by going straight for the jugular.
no subject
He doesn't wince so much as his smile goes tight and his breath catches a little uneven. By now, he's kind of used to the blunt nature that is Peter and just blurting things out. He's just not sure he's ever going to be used to the ache of this.
"Coco," He answers just as quietly. "I love Imelda... but it always comes back to Coco. She's everything to me. Mi niñita." He loved Imelda like nothing else in the world, but she still couldn't compare to their daughter. "She's what's really kept me going all these years. I don't think I'd be here if it weren't for her." His eyes close, thinking of her. "She's a half mage on Imelda's side. With her magicless Papá. I'm sure despite me she's already far ahead anything I could dream. But I still see her as this little girl, little bows in her trenzas. I still imagine showing things off to her like some novel trick, as if no time has passed. And I can remember her laugh..."
He draws a breath and exhales heavy, returning his attention to Peter, eyes just a little glassy, smile tight with pain.
"You don't have to do anything so... much. It's just a suggestion that's helped me. Do you want to take a shot at the spell?"
no subject
He realizes too late he's said kind of a dumb thing and winces a bit. "You really, really miss her," he says, not surprised but still awed. "She has to be missing you too."
Does that help? He hopes it helps. It certainly helps him knowing what sort of relationship Héctor is picturing.
no subject
He knew, of course, all too well that being related didn't always mean things worked out. He's seen enough here, remembers his time as a foster kid, and all things in between. But that wasn't family. Not really.
"But I don't know. I'm still her walk out Papá. She might not even remember me at all. I hope she misses me... but I also hope she doesn't hurt." It's hard to find a middle ground with all of that. Possible, but hard. Still, he keeps his smile up, even if aching and subdued now. Quietly, but a little amused, he asks, "Are you stalling, mijo?"
no subject
"A little bit," he admits. "But I want to hear too. It's ... nice hearing other people talk about their families."
He cares for Héctor, after all, and he misses his aunt terribly. Hearing about Coco is comforting in its own way.
But right, okay, he is stalling. Deep breaths. Try to make his blight work for him, eh ... Maybe think about May? Or maybe some of the work he's done saving people ... He tries the motions again, focusing on that. No luck just yet.
no subject
The first attempt is a whole lot of nothing. He even reaches out for Peter's hands, tapping his palm with a finger to check. Not particularly sticky.
He considers quiet, then, "...What about Tío Benny? You remember you told me how... it was him that got you into wanting to help people. You use that motivation all the time, without even thinking anymore. I figure it's what you use most while you're using your spider blight."
He reaches out, brushing back Peter's hair a bit. "Try again. Make your Tío proud."
no subject
"Right. Something he'd be proud of ..."
He makes the passes again. This time imagining making them with imaginary strands of webbing attached to them. At first, nothing happens; then the faintest flicker appears, something sparking out of nothingness.
no subject
He waits, watches, holds his breath. Then he sees that spark.
"Ah! You did it!" He says, face immediately lighting with awe. "You're doing it! Keep going, mijo, you got this!"
no subject
He totally did. That was definitely a little wavering pinprick of light. But the instant he gets excited about it, the light vanishes again. Dammit.
"Okay, so I need more practice," he says. But it worked, it definitely worked for a moment there. He cast a spell without any help at all.
no subject
But still, he looks up at Peter, joyous. "You did. And with more practice, yes, we'll get you there." He can't stop smiling now. Peter might pass his classes after all.
"Okay, okay, shake it out. Now try again."
no subject
He refocuses again, trying to summon up his memories of Ben a second time. "Right, okay, here goes..." This time it takes him a couple passes, but - there, again. A tiny frail light, fed by his spider blight rather than his radiance. It's not much, but he manages to make it stay this time. Just. Stubbornly holding it.
no subject
But then, just like that, the light is back. His breath catches on a faint laugh. He reaches out, so careful, hands hovering just under the boy's but not touching, simply observing this little thing with wonder in his eyes.
"There you go, Mijo..." That light shines there, even when he lifts his gaze back up to Peter himself, beaming. "You're doing good. I'm proud of you."
no subject
The light flickers out after a moment; he has to sit back to gasp and catch his breath. But he'd managed it. And his Tío is proud of him, even if it's not the Tío he'd been picturing.
"You - you taught me," he says in between gulps of air. "That probably took more work."
no subject
He doesn't full understand Peter's blight-- couldn't unless he'd lived through it himself-- but he can imagine this is all a little strange. Still, he keeps smiling hopeful. This is good. He's pretty sure this is good.
He laughs then. "I'm a TA. It would be pretty sad if I couldn't teach even a little. But I'd say that only took us both a few minutes? I knew you could do it." If he could, Peter could. If possible, he lets Peter's hands fall. His own will just be going back to his knees. "How do you feel after that? Should work out a practice plan so you can work on it but you don't overdo it."
no subject
He means that with utter fondness, really. Just. Y'know. Blisteringly blunt, as always.
no subject
But it's nice to hear, spoken so earnestly. Especially considering how few probably agreed with that sentiment.
"Of course, if that ever happens, I'm going to be laughing at you for the cyclic justice," He teases.
no subject
"I'm way too young to think about kids," he says. "Talk to me again in like, ten years maybe."
Or never, since he probably can't have them what with being undead and all. He'll just have to adopt.
no subject
"Mm, I had Coco when I was nineteen. You're only a few years off, you know." He points that out with a sly grin. "And who knows! I never said they had to be your kids. You're not mine but you give me plenty of trouble. Oh no, I'm going to be waiting for life to really surprise you."
He doesn't think that will happen, but it's fun to tease. And, to be honest, he can't help thinking if they skirt around the topic of his undead status like this maybe it'll be easier later if it's actually an issue.
no subject
"Nineteen? Seriously?" A. Pause at that. "Wait, how old is Coco then?"
Héctor might have told him already, but he clearly doesn't remember.
no subject
"You have a memory like a sieve, Peter. A sieve with bigger holes in it than it originally had." Seriously, if he weren't maxed out on worry.
"Coco is fourteen, Peter. She was four when I went on my tour. I was twenty two, turned twenty three on the road, and died. It has been ten years. My daughter is fourteen."
You got that this time, Pete?
no subject
"Look, I can't remember everything you've told me," he says, looking a little sheepish. "I forget you're older than you look."
no subject
"Just a bit." He says flatly. "Though if you want to get technical, I'm still twenty three if birthdays are for years lived so at least you're not entirely wrong there."
He shakes his head, turning to the table to draw closer a blank bit of paper and pencil. He starts making out a chart for spells required, grade importance, practice necessary, and possible study time. He can work with Peter to fill that out in time, possibly after a talk with his teachers.
"Okay. Here's the shape of the plan, we just fill in the blanks. No bow work, nothing, until we get at least some of this sorted. And I want you to watch how much energy you're putting into each spell you practice. An A's not worth knocking yourself out over. If you feel dizzy or sick, don't just ignore it. If you remember nothing else, remember that part. Got it?"
no subject
As he watches that list grow, he looks a bit nervous. And then a little dismayed too. "You're gonna bribe me to finish my homework by giving me more work? Seriously?"
Because that's 100% going to work. Peter will absolutely knock this shit out as fast as possible if it means he gets back to designing cool skeleton gadgets.
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