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
"Hey, it's okay. It's been a hard week. And this isn't an easy thing for anybody to talk about. It's understandable to be scared."
It might get asked, how he found out. He might just earn May's fury. It would be deserved. Still, he says, "We can do it together if you like. Might be easier that way. Or we could start small. You could tell her about your blight to start with."
no subject
"Not tonight," he says, curling in on himself a little. "I'll -- I'll figure it out tomorrow."
no subject
"It's my first fully normal night. As much as a skeleton is normal. I think once I've dealt with some other things I want to just... be. For a while."
He wishes he were home. He could curl up around his daughter. Sing her lullabies. Watch whatever she wanted. Just hold her.
Which reminds him. "...Thank you. For all you did for me back there, mijo. It helped. Even when it didn't seem like it."
no subject
"Sorry for taking her song," he says, ducking his head. "But I figured it was the only thing that would help."
no subject
"It's okay. When I made it, it was to stay connected to her, even if I had to preform that night. I wanted it secret so she could know how special she was to me. I didn't want the world to have it. I didn't want it to belong to anybody else..." Not Imelda. Especially not Ernesto whom he knew then would butcher it but hadn't imagined the extent.
"But you... you're special too now. You know that, right? No matter what I said back there. If anyone was going to know that song, I'm glad it was you. You sang it just right, the way it's supposed to be. You brought me to her, for a moment. And you got me here."
no subject
"I guess I do know that," he says with little laugh. "I oughta by now." All right, Pete, pull it together. "I'm glad you're back, Tío. I'm so glad."
no subject
He says anyway, "We're going to be alright."
Maybe not right now, but he makes it a promise, and in the same breath, a reassurance to himself. Someday, hopefully sooner than later, they would be okay. They could get there. They could handle this. Whatever came their way, they could handle this.
They just needed more time.