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
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..."
no subject
no subject
"I'm trying to..."
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
...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?"
no subject
"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?"
One day... One day I will make it through a tag without a stupid typo
"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!"
Story of my fucking life m8, but ain't no judgin here
He laughs as she starts. "That would be a good idea, si."
He steps back and away, both to let her through and to collect his things off the table. Tucking that under his arm, he sighs. "Meanwhile, it's time I call it in. I'll be off to bed now myself. You have good day, okay niña?"
A closer look and an attentive eye will show him looking more worn than he did at the beginning of the night. If not tired than at least not at his best.
I wish DW had a feature to edit comments that were already replied to, without flooding inboxes
"Okay!"
Normally Puella was not this fast to get out of bed. Perhaps she did feel pressured that she might get caught. Or seen dragging a full sized blanket down the hall. Embarrassing for sure.
She pulled bundling the blanket up for easy carrying. A thought just crossed her, as she just noticed Héctor starting to leave himself. "-Um..."
"Are you gonna be back out here later?"
...Perhaps she could not make a habit of sleeping out here every night. But she did not mind hanging out each time he had papers to grade.
That would save my life
"You're not thinking of making a habit of this now, are you Puelita?" He asks, amused. She absolutely is. Oh, he can tell.
"I work all night, every night," He tells her. "I might have to head off sometimes for errands or tutoring or my own classes, but... sometimes I'll be out here. Probably tonight too. I'm usually always around somewhere at night if not here."
no subject
"That's fine! I sometimes got my own research to do too." ...But probably not tonight. Tonight should be free, unless one of the big mean teachers gave her a huge assignment to finish. How dare they.
no subject
She gets a wry look but no argument.
"Alright. I suppose I shall you again."
At least for a few days. And then not again for a many days more.
no subject
But with later tonight set and Puella had all her things, it was time to get out of there before the other students arrived.