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
Rex doesn't lash out like he fears, but the words are such a blow he might as well have. He cringes back, looks away, and looks ill. He pulls himself tighter once more.
But those next words too are like a bludgeon to the back of his skull. All thought is scrambled, lost in pain and confusion. Removed the curse... No. No one had told him why Rex had done what he had. He'd barely been able to cope with what had happened, let alone hearing why. He'd assumed... he doesn't know what he assumed. That Rex was just so man who thought nothing of it.
I'll hear her name in your voice for the rest of my life. It was her name he screamed wasn't it? In his delirium. As her name blended with the genuine cries for help, for mercy, as was her namesake. Was admittance to a lasting memory supposed to be some kind of remorse? He doesn't understand.
"...You were trying to protect her...?" His words come out small. They come out still uncertain. "That's... but you..." His hands rise. They go to his head, pulling it down, tangling in his hair. He was torn apart. He was ripped open, tortured, how can he still... His head shakes. It doesn't miss his notice that Rex had apparently intended to trap him in here. He can't comfort this guy and protect himself too and he can't fully make himself want to. It's not his fault if the boy is hurting for this. It's not his fault... even if he can't quite throw away the guilt he can't swallow.
"... Did you really believe that? That I'd just pass on easy after all that? Even if I were a ghost, don't you think if I were haunting this world it would be for a reason? I'm still here for a reason. And having a message passed isn't enough." He shakes his head again. "... Leave me alone then. Please. If you really care."
no subject
It's a short, sneering laugh when Héctor says he's here for a reason. Like every form of laughter that he gives it sounds so much worse than it would be from someone else.
"Aren't we all?"
Rex leaves it at that, the spell binding the chair in place undone. A flick of his wrist for the telekinesis magic to move it out of the way and open the door simultaneously. He is here for a purpose. The mission he's been given is worth any cost. He can afford to feel later.
He shuts the door behind him, as he imagines Héctor will need some time to compose himself before he leaves.
no subject
He doesn't say another word. He just catches the flick of Rex's wrist and he flinches. The sound of the chair moving outside does the same. You're nothing but bones, he tries to tell himself. He can't hurt you.. He wishes he could believe that.
And then he's alone. The door clicks shut and he waits a whole minute before he gasps for breath. It would feel like being gutted, but he knows what that feels like. All that comparing does throw him deeper, drown him under, until he's lost in a panic, rocking, tearing at himself.
He doesn't even know his torturer's name. He supposes that's normal (normal, what a joke) but it feels like one more way in which he's got no power. He tries to make himself 'human'. Tries and fails over and over again, flickering like a dying bulb in that classroom, unable to shake the fear.
It's at some point he considers using the rune Imelda left on him, calling on her to come to his rescue. Ironically, it's that that has him pull himself together. He can't... he can't keep coming apart. He's got to be better than this. He can't let her see him like this any more than she has. So he pushes it down. He buries.
By early morning, before the dawn, he makes it out of the classroom as something more than a skeleton. At least on the outside. So many thoughts tumble through his mind all the way back to his dorm room and he wants o bad to bury those two, but one thought tugs it all back again and again; He's a student here too. No one will know but them, the people who found them, and the ones who deemed it something to look past. He has to push on as he always has, with everything, for years. He has to. But now it hits heavy that there's chance he might not be able to. With that, he doesn't know what to do.