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

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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

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Puella did know some of the constellations. Not all of them, but enough. If she could did them all by memory though is another question entirely.

"I..I can give it a try."

"It's okay if you make them up," He assures her, hearing that hesitation. "What's important isn't making it perfect, it's making what you want and need to help you rest. Clearing your head so only that matters."

She looked a little nervous for being called out on hesitating. ...If she can make up her own stars though, that might be fun. Like figuring out how many patterns she can put together.

Puella does not respond right away. She was too distracted thinking of all the possibilities.

"Sooo...Is that what songs do for you?"

"Sometimes," He says. That's been harder lately for a few reasons. "The song I sang with my girl usually does. I don't need help sleeping like I used to, but it still helps me to sing it, just to remind myself of those good things and all I'm hoping for. A little motivator." More than that.

There's that curiosity creeping in again. She wanted to know what sort of songs they were now. Maybe it wasn't actually lullabies or nursery rhymes.

Maybe some other time. But she might forget to ask later. Or not find a good time to ask again.

Instead, Puella glanced down the hallway before looking back down at the couch. "I guess no one is gonna let me sleep out here."

She used to do it sometimes at home. It was fun - sort of like camping out. Something that was a little missed now.

Edited 2019-02-23 12:30 (UTC)

He looks down that hallway himself, turning his seat before looking back to her, brow raising.

She wants to sleep out here?

"... Okay. Just this time, Puelita. Only this time. You go get what you need and set up for bed there. I'll wake you in the morning, okay?"

Now that's something she did not expect to hear, and it caught her off guard. Can she really do that?

Well, apparently so. But...

"Okay--" Wait a minute. Does that mean Héctor was going to be up all night? "How many papers do you have?"

Is that normal?

He laughs. "A fair few, but not that many tonight. I can get some books to study of my own while you get your things. Or I could work on lesson plans for some tutoring. Or maybe I'll do some writing..." That one was a long shot, he hadn't written music in ages. But who knew?

He stands up, grabbing his cane to support him as he prepares to go retrieve said books. He had intended to do some other things tonight, but, well, one night standing watch wouldn't hurt.

Héctor really was a typical adult after all; they'll say one thing, and then immediately do the opposite right behind you. Go to bed when they stay up for hours longer, don't eat too many desserts when they stuff down an entire cake. Why were they always like that?

It's lucky that the lie actually works out in Puella's favor. She was by no means afraid of the dark - at least she hadn't been for quite some time now - but there was specific things that made her feel better at night. Sounds, mostly. Being able to hear her parents work on something down the hall. Sometimes seeing just a small crack of light. Don't really get those feelings anymore when all alone in a dorm room. But she was technically supposed to be a seventh grader now and those might be kind of weird to bring up.

Either way, while Héctor was getting books Puella was also getting what she needed. A change of clothes for the second time, blanket, and--well, she could probably just use the pillows already out there.

Eventually she'll return. The blanket was trailing behind her like an extra long cape, it even fanned out somewhat dramatically as she hopped back to the sofa, settling down into place.

Edited 2019-02-25 11:00 (UTC)

Adults were just jerks like that, probably. Though, were it his choice, he'd certainly like to be sleeping now instead of through the day.

His dorm is a bit further away but it doesn't take him too long to retrieve his things. He'll meet her back there about the same time. Or at least int time to see the way the blanket trails, smiling amused at it. He sets the books down, then wanders a little her way, cane taping lightly.

His head tilts a bit to match her angle. "You all set? Everything you need, water, all of that? I can try and turn off a few of the lights here, if you'd like."

"I'm good~" the small child was peeking under the blanket while getting into a comfortable spot. Lights weren't much a concern when she can simply turtle away from them. Besides he was going to read right?

Eventually her head pokes out, the cane catches her eye. "Where did'ja get that?"

Cute kid. "Okay, if you're sure." He turns, heading on back to the table, only to pause and look back at her question. Then look down.

"Oh this?" He asks, lifting the stick a little. "Señor Ekkehardt gave it to me." He continues walking, making it the rest of the way to the table and settling down. Then he explains. "When I came to this school I was a little bit hurt. He helped me get better, fixed a lot of things. But my one leg was messed up for a long time so I still walk on it funny and can hurt it easy. The cane is so I don't put too much pressure on it. But I forget it sometimes. Like in my room, or at tables when I sit down."

Ekkehardt did that?

"...Right, you were falling down a lot outside."

He laughs. "That's not because of that. That's just because I'm also still a bit sick too." And her power drained him.

"Don't get old, niña, is all I'm saying. Everything starts breaking on you then," He warns her with mock humor. Technically, he never got old either, but he's old enough she'll accept that answer, he's sure.

"Well, I don't wanna get old anyway." It sounds like a lot of hassle and boring. She would rather avoid that entirely, thanks.

...She also paid no attention to how potentially dark that might have sounded too.

He makes an amused noise but there's a strain to it, and to his smile. It was okay for little kids to say that. That's what they were supposed to say-- better than racing ahead through life.

But it's a lie that he wouldn't want her to get old. Or Peter, if he can. Or himself if he could. Getting jealous of greys and wrinkles wasn't something he expected in his youth, but so it went.

"In that case, you better sleep. The less you rest, the faster you age." He nods sagely.

Oho, that did spook her.

More or less anyway. A tiny gasp and suddenly her face was buried under the blankets again. Got to keep the oldness away. Does pretend sleep work?

"Maybe if I don't let it see me..."

"Puelita," He says, Chiding now. "That's not how it works. You can't hide from time! You must sleep, niña. Come on now, you'll miss all your classes if you don't and there will definitely be no stickers."

A groan came from the blanket monster as it moved. It was trying to shift to a decent position again. Not that it was uncomfortable laying down here, but she was wide awake.

"I'm trying to..."

"Okay. Good," He says softer. "Don't forget that trick I told you." He of course means the visualization.

But... maybe it wouldn't hurt...

"Buenas Noches, Puelita."

He pulls up his papers, turns his eyes down to them, and begins to hum softly. It's not one of his own, but it's not likely a song she knows either, and when a word or two slips out, it's all in Spanish. "Que solo tengo alegría, cuando recuerdo tu nombre..." A smile settles upon his face.

Eventually Puella got into a relaxing position. She hadn't forgotten the trick, but she was a little unsure of its effectiveness, or if she will get it to work right.

So long as she was still and calm, it was not that hard to think of a few stars in her head. She had gotten to the point where she could see them twinkling, when she heard something. ...Was that Héctor singing? He did say that was something he did to relax. Puella already mentioned though, no music or lullaby was going to--

...

Within a couple minutes, Puella had completely dozed off - judging by the fact she hadn't spoken or moved in awhile. A mixture of the stars and song finally did it.

The room goes quiet. He can tell through her stillness and the softness of her breath-- not the dead but not the waking. His smile goes wider and his heart aches.

He looks over her way and whispers softly, "Dulces sueños, Puelita."

His eyes close and he takes a slow breath. Now, at last, he can sing his own song. In his mind he sees his little girl, her warm brown eyes alight, her smile brighter. To remember her hurts. It always does. But so too is it where he finds peace.

"Recuérdame... hoy me tengo que ir mi amor... Recuérdame, no llores..."

There's familiar pressure in his head, a weakness in his limbs that he notices well before the pen in hand starts to go unsteady. He frowns at it. He can draw on his power, push this longer, but he doesn't have any morning tutoring sessions today. He piles up his things, sets it all together, but walks first to a window in the hall, leaving the girl alone only a moment.

The sun has crept over the horizon, casting beautiful gold over everything. He takes a moment to look upon it, stand in it, let the light color his skin and the heat of it warm him. A brief bit of basking before he goes back into that common room, cane tapping as soft as he can make it be.

He reaches out to her, gently taking her by the shoulder, giving the slight squeeze and shake. "Time to get up, niña. It's morning. El Sol has come to say hello. Other students are going to be coming out soon too." He suspects she won't actually want to be caught sleeping out here by then.

Reactively, Puella curled up slightly to avoid the shaking. As well as a usual, stubborn but soft whine that anyone knows roughly translates to 'just five more minutes' in sleep talk. Alas, whatever she was dreaming about was already over, and two eyes opened halfway. She looked dazed, her hair more of a mess than what she initially slept with.

...Oh yeah, she had slept out here. The sun was rising in a way she had not quite seen before and it was actually quite pretty. Usually it was higher up in the sky than this. Wait, she had finally put the two to two together, with or without hearing Héctor's words. She was more awake now.

"-Wait time is it?"

He expected that little huddle and mumble. Anticipated it, at least lieu of the sudden jarring awake that happened with two many others here. Far too many kids with nightmares. It was nice at least one wasn't scarred in such a way.

"I'm not sure," He admits. "By the light, and the winter here, I'd say around seven, maybe six, give or take. I think the day classes start at nine. Everyone should be waking up soon so you have time to slip back to your room. You sleep okay out here?"

Edited 2019-02-27 12:21 (UTC)

It was already that early? No wonder.

"Yeah, I think so," honestly she did not remember when she fell asleep, just the fact that she apparently did. And she managed to get through it completely undisturbed. Could have been one of better nights she's had in awhile.

It just then dawned on Puella what he meant about classes starting though. Never mind the fact she likely had some in the morning too, but generally she would have slept in a little more...

But this was the main room. There will be students getting up. "-!"

"I should get ready!"

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

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One day... One day I will make it through a tag without a stupid typo

Story of my fucking life m8, but ain't no judgin here

I wish DW had a feature to edit comments that were already replied to, without flooding inboxes

That would save my life

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