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
"Oh..." is all she says, sounding a little disappointed. And then quietly, about 50 to 70% of the entire conversation likely makes a lot more sense.
"...I thought maybe you were a friend..." Héctor just, sadly, kept not matching with certain parts like knowing her a long time or being close to her age, and such. "...does this mean... ...you're not?"
no subject
Ay, he is a fool sometimes, isn't he? He turns closer to the door, hoping that will make his voice easier to hear, easier to reach.
"No, no it doesn't mean that. I didn't realize you were asking about me. I'm an adult, see, and most kids usually just make friends with other kids. But... that doesn't mean we can't be. I like you. And I guess you like me. And we spend time with each other so, if you really want, then we can be friends. Would you like that, Reira?"
no subject
She does sound happy, as she speaks. "...Yeah..! ...We can play more paper games... ...and you can meet Moon, and the others I guess..." And hopefully Moon won't use any magic, because it would be rather alarming to disappear in front of Héctor just like that.
no subject
"That sounds real nice, Reirita," He says softly. "We can do games that aren't all on paper now too, if you like. Who's Moon? A friend of yours?" Literally La Luna? He guesses he couldn't judge to much were it the latter.
no subject
Also-
".................what kind of not paper games?" (There's non-paper games!?!?)
no subject
But of course, he shouldn't be surprised the kid is less interested in what's normal for her and more interested in what's new.
"Remember how I said there's more games than I could ever count, niña?" He laughs a little. "There's sports. Like fútbol! That's my favorite. Not- not the dumb one in the states, the real one. And there's other games like dominoes, which aren't paper but are pretty fun if you're not into sports. Or there's dancing! Which isn't a game but it's probably something you couldn't do much of in the infirmary. There's lots! You should ask the friends you make to show you some when you can."
no subject
But, they aren't the important thing right now. What's important is...um. "....foohtball?" So close! "...There's a fake one and a real one..?" That's a bit confusing isn't it??
"...Can you do any through doors?" she asks, not really thinking about how she's probably not supposed to be here that long.
no subject
"¡Sí! There's the regular one where you kick the ball around and try to score points in the other team's net and there's... there's the American one with... honestly, I don't know how that one works I just know it's complicated and everybody's tackling each other. But in some places they call the better one 'Soccer', I think."
(Héctor doesn't notice any issue with Riera's pronunciation. He's using the spanish name anyway.)
For that second question he has to think. And then sigh. "Sorry, Rierita. I don't think there are. If there are, I don't know them. Maybe we can play a game some other time."
no subject
Oh well.
Reira tries to at least log away this information about football in her mind as well. And although she doesn't really catch any possible hints to get going to her own dorm, she at least recognizes the futility in asking about more games.
So Reira nods (again unseen), and just sighs. "Mnh... ..That's okay. ...but we definitely have to play that 'other time' then," she insists in reply to the offer. "...Especially since you said it."
no subject
"You got it, Rierita. We'll find something or other." Sometime. When he stopped imagining hands and teeth shifting through his organs. He suppresses a shudder at the thought.
"For now though, you should head to bed. Okay?"
no subject
"...I hope you feel better soon though. ...You seem really, um... 'Hurt'. Not like getting a cut hurt, but, your feelings, I mean..." And obviously anyone who wasn't feeling well would probably risk that, but it bears voicing a hope she thinks.
"Goodnight, though."
no subject
"I'm okay, Reirita," He lies. "Just sick, like I said. Buenas Noches."
no subject
Hopefully for his own sake he gets better soon.