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)
daybreakacademy2019-03-03 12:16 pm
unpocoloco) wrote in daybreakacademy2019-03-03 12:16 pm
Lost through time and that's all I need, so much love, then one day buried
WHO: Héctor, semi-open
WHERE: Around the Academy
WHEN: Post Hollow plot.
WHAT: Sad trauma skeleton. Not a single happy prompt in sight.
WARNINGS: Standard spoilers, possible mentions of death, murder, body horror, etc
A - [Closed to Peter]
He wakes with a gasp. His body stings with cold, weighed down with it, but he pushes immediately upward, against the lid of the freezer, scrambling for the light the breaks through on shivering limbs. The climb out is almost never graceful.
But the climb out doesn't usually feature somebody else, right there and ready for him. First his mind's got to register what he's seeing. Then, all the last few weeks come crashing back. It's enough to make him forget the ice stuck to his bones and his hair. He tries to focus on the boy.
"M-Mi-jo? Wh-what are you doing here?"
B - [Closed to Imelda]
It's not the moment he wakes, like he promised. He feels a little guilty about that, but it couldn't be helped. Still, he does show up as soon as he's able. Wearing a grey blanket like a veil. Looking around him, seeing the hall's empty for now, he reaches out with bare-boned knuckles and lets them sound upon her door.
There's a fear in him he can't push down. Maybe he dreamed it all up, tricked himself. Maybe she really did just say it to keep him calm. Maybe he'll have ruined things to the point it doesn't matter if she meant it then.
He dares to speak. "...Imelda? Are you awake?"
C - Open
He'll give it right back. He will. Not like those other times he thought he'd give something back like those backpacks or that van or Chich's femur. Definitely not like those times.
The hoodie he takes from the lost and found would probably be too small for his frame on a normal day, but it's perfect right now, when he can't bear being flesh a minute more than he's got to. He'll be alright. He always pushes through. He just needs a little more time.
The hoodie keeps him hidden, his hands can hide in (borrowed) gloves and the hood can mostly hide his head. Ducking it and wearing a scarf on the lower half of his face does the rest of the job. It's still quiet at night and he's still got the ability to go part way on his power last minute if he needs to. If he's going to keep seeing Imelda, speaking to her, he can't just hide in his dorm. He's got no choice but creep his way across the grounds through the night, only the cane revealing who it could be, but he grips it like a lifeline. Or a weapon. Sneaking up now wouldn't be the best idea.
On the other hand, any person lingering outside of the Lumiere dorm might catch him going still and abruptly turning back at the sight of them.
D- Open
He sets up on a path close to the school. It's as far as he can will himself to go. He's got no picture for the man, no piece saved he can leave. But he's got a small candle lit and he's got a bottle of cheap brandy with two glasses. He knows the man isn't coming back to drink it. Not even his ghost. But Garcie deserved more than to be killed in an alley. The dead in general deserved to be remembered.
So he sits there, in a hood and blanket on the path, facing the candle, the fencing, and the filled glass he won't touch.
"You never did tell me who Valentin was, amigo..."
E - Open
There were more than a few people he needed to see. At least a few he needed to talk to. Orihime. Ekkehardt. Maya, Minako, Tyzias. All the kids he was tutoring or generally making promises to that he couldn't keep. Gamma. He doesn't know when it became such a list but it seemed that it was now.
In at least some cases, he might have messaged those people, or even found the nerve to knock on their door. Others he might have run into by now. But for a good portion of time, he's in his room and that's where he stays, running out of things to mark and work to do and things to write. Sitting in his bones because if something, anything, touches him right now he might scream. He certainly startles to hear a knock at his door.
He gets up, walks to it, presses close, but doesn't open it. There's a pause before he calls, "Who is it? What do you want?"
WHERE: Around the Academy
WHEN: Post Hollow plot.
WHAT: Sad trauma skeleton. Not a single happy prompt in sight.
WARNINGS: Standard spoilers, possible mentions of death, murder, body horror, etc
A - [Closed to Peter]
He wakes with a gasp. His body stings with cold, weighed down with it, but he pushes immediately upward, against the lid of the freezer, scrambling for the light the breaks through on shivering limbs. The climb out is almost never graceful.
But the climb out doesn't usually feature somebody else, right there and ready for him. First his mind's got to register what he's seeing. Then, all the last few weeks come crashing back. It's enough to make him forget the ice stuck to his bones and his hair. He tries to focus on the boy.
"M-Mi-jo? Wh-what are you doing here?"
B - [Closed to Imelda]
It's not the moment he wakes, like he promised. He feels a little guilty about that, but it couldn't be helped. Still, he does show up as soon as he's able. Wearing a grey blanket like a veil. Looking around him, seeing the hall's empty for now, he reaches out with bare-boned knuckles and lets them sound upon her door.
There's a fear in him he can't push down. Maybe he dreamed it all up, tricked himself. Maybe she really did just say it to keep him calm. Maybe he'll have ruined things to the point it doesn't matter if she meant it then.
He dares to speak. "...Imelda? Are you awake?"
C - Open
He'll give it right back. He will. Not like those other times he thought he'd give something back like those backpacks or that van or Chich's femur. Definitely not like those times.
The hoodie he takes from the lost and found would probably be too small for his frame on a normal day, but it's perfect right now, when he can't bear being flesh a minute more than he's got to. He'll be alright. He always pushes through. He just needs a little more time.
The hoodie keeps him hidden, his hands can hide in (borrowed) gloves and the hood can mostly hide his head. Ducking it and wearing a scarf on the lower half of his face does the rest of the job. It's still quiet at night and he's still got the ability to go part way on his power last minute if he needs to. If he's going to keep seeing Imelda, speaking to her, he can't just hide in his dorm. He's got no choice but creep his way across the grounds through the night, only the cane revealing who it could be, but he grips it like a lifeline. Or a weapon. Sneaking up now wouldn't be the best idea.
On the other hand, any person lingering outside of the Lumiere dorm might catch him going still and abruptly turning back at the sight of them.
D- Open
He sets up on a path close to the school. It's as far as he can will himself to go. He's got no picture for the man, no piece saved he can leave. But he's got a small candle lit and he's got a bottle of cheap brandy with two glasses. He knows the man isn't coming back to drink it. Not even his ghost. But Garcie deserved more than to be killed in an alley. The dead in general deserved to be remembered.
So he sits there, in a hood and blanket on the path, facing the candle, the fencing, and the filled glass he won't touch.
"You never did tell me who Valentin was, amigo..."
E - Open
There were more than a few people he needed to see. At least a few he needed to talk to. Orihime. Ekkehardt. Maya, Minako, Tyzias. All the kids he was tutoring or generally making promises to that he couldn't keep. Gamma. He doesn't know when it became such a list but it seemed that it was now.
In at least some cases, he might have messaged those people, or even found the nerve to knock on their door. Others he might have run into by now. But for a good portion of time, he's in his room and that's where he stays, running out of things to mark and work to do and things to write. Sitting in his bones because if something, anything, touches him right now he might scream. He certainly startles to hear a knock at his door.
He gets up, walks to it, presses close, but doesn't open it. There's a pause before he calls, "Who is it? What do you want?"
no subject
Honestly might be easier to just say "heads up, shit's fucked".
[He shrugs his shoulders helplessly.]
I wasn't involved in any of this magic stuff before the Outlands, even with Imelda, and now I probably couldn't even give you a list. That world is pretty much an endlessly evolving horror movie that leaks here sometimes.
no subject
No shit. If you weren't Tía's ex, I'd want nothing to do with you, shitty skeleton man, I don't need the fucking Outlands in my life any more than it has been. Bad enough this fucking school hires so many fucking people from that hellhole.
no subject
[He's not about to let that attack on his primos just slide.]
Also-- did you just say Tía?
no subject
ESPECIALLY SINCE BEING OUTLANDS RACIST IS SOMEHOW??? LESS OF A BIG DEAL TO HIM THAN THIS OTHER THING THAT HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH]
Yeah? So fucking what?
[Y-YEAH, HE'S NOT EMBARRASSED AT ALL, just ignore how pink and flustered he is.]
no subject
He lifts his hands up and tries to hide a smile. He doesn't entirely manage.]
Nothing! Nothing at all!
[He turns away from Maverick, just so he smile a bit wider.]
She always wanted a bigger family but mis cuñados weren't the dating sort. I'm glad she's got un sobrino who looks out for her like you.
no subject
...Pretty sure our whole fucking floor'd throwdown for her, at this fucking point. Ain't a big thing. [he lies, like a liar.]
no subject
[He doubts. But he'll play along.]
Well good. But I wouldn't call that a small thing. Family is everything, chamaco. Especially to Imelda.
[And himself. But he suspects he'll get some biting remark for all this as is so he picks his stride up a little faster.]
no subject
Fucking...whatever.
[Both because no, the whole floor doesn't do it, and because shut up and just fucking walk you useless dead guy. Congrats, you've got a pretty quiet Maverick.]
no subject
And speaking of warmth, it's no time at all then before Lumiere's in sight. He lets Maverick have his quiet and reaches out for the door to hold it open for the boy. Regardless of whether the unconscious offer is taken.]
I'll tell your Tía you helped me. Knowing her, she'll probably lend you extra blankets if you need it to warm up after that walk.
no subject
This...jerk... being so nice and shit.]
Don’t bother. I’m fine.
[...he’d request he not tell her about the cigarette thing, but he’s not sure if that would encourage him to tattle or not. So he’s just gonna duck out and, eventually, sneak up onto the roof for some time to himself, because being in his room while Héctor and Imelda are in the next one over feels...weird.]
no subject
It's bold to think either he or Imelda would try and speak in her room as they are. Maverick may hear them walk down the hall, past his room and to the common room, and if he's looking, might find them sitting in there, chairs pushed back to back as they speak so neither of them face each other.
But for now, he'll let Mav go. Better to part on a good note. Or as close to good as he was getting.]
no subject