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Héctor
UN: OLLIN

STATUS: Graduate Student / Teacher's Assistant

ACCOLADES: I write music, know how to play a few instruments, mostly la guitarra.

BIO: !Hola¡ Soy Héctor. Yo hablo español y un poco inglés. I've come to Daybreak to learn a little about all this magic stuff and help out around the Campus. If you need an odd job taken care of, I'm your guy! (Unless you are la policía. Or someone I have borrowed from. If that is the case, do not contact me, por favor.)

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[Ohhh, nice safe. For a moment he'd tensed up, with no idea how to hug an adult who is very nearly a complete stranger... but filling a pot with water! That's easy! Simple and normal, as much as anything can be in a body that feels so strange to him now.]

Okay. [He takes it and fills it with water, as requested. But of course, this stove is not as familiar as the ones he knew... it takes him a moment to work out how to get it set to high.] ...Is that right? I've never, uh, cooked.

[And what a sweet reward it is. His grin is leaving no time soon, even after letting her free.

He drifts back out of the way, stealing Tobias's chair, turning it to sit backwards with his arms on top of the back of it.]

Looks right from here! Check the dials to make sure it's the right burner!

[While Tobias fills the pot with water, Imelda pulls out a hunk of pork from her shopping bag and begins trimming the fat off of it and cutting it into three chunks. While this part might be somewhat easy, she's not going to give a knife to a bird that's still learning how to use fingers.]

I don't imagine that you would have. Birds don't typically cook their food. [She gives Tobias a pointed look, but then glances at the knobs, as Héctor suggests.] Looks fine to me. Let me know when it starts boiling, and I'll give you more things to add.

[Meanwhile, the pork gets dumped into the saucepan, and Imelda starts cutting up some onions to toss in next. She goes quickly, her knife making rhythmic chopping sounds as if she's done this a million times before--and she probably has.]

No, we don't.

[He gives her an unreadable look back. She has no proof and he knows it. No one does. Besides, it's easier for everyone this way. He doesn't want pity. They'd both understand, surely.

And then he's looking back at the pot, literally watching for water to boil. Now it really smells like food in here... he can't imagine how good it will taste after months without tastebuds.]

Got it.

[He sits, contented to watch for a while. He announces himself when he does get up.]

I'll be right back.

[It's probably no surprise that he returns with his guitar, plucking out tunes to accompany the sounds of cooking.]

Edited 2019-10-01 05:32 (UTC)

[The familiarity of this scene is easy to pick out--even more-so when Héctor gets up and returns with his guitar. There's a strong sense of nostalgia building in her chest, and she almost expects to hear Coco's voice or see her brothers peeking their head in to ask when supper will be ready.]

[Without really noticing, she hums along with the tune that Héctor strikes up--the songs that he plays as familiar to her as they are to him. After a minute or so, she glances to Tobias again.]

So, how are you liking the school? Has it been up to your birdly standards?

It's nice. I like it here.

[What else can he say, really? He's watching the water, occasionally looking at one of them in his jerky, birdlike manner. Most movements he makes are twitchy like that. Being a hawk has overshadowed his humanity so much... So intense. So vivid.]

I feel like this is what I was meant for.

[It's a feeling he shares. Oh, what he wouldn't give for it to be true, to see Coco around the corner, even to hear the voices of his brothers-in-law. His world back into alignment but even more wonderful than before because he'd never let it slip again.

But that isn't to see the moment now isn't nice too. She starts to him and he lifts his gaze to beam at her, smiling with all the love in his heart.]

That's a vague answer, chamaco. Meant for school? Meant for heroism? Meant for watching water boil?

[He's teasing and he knows it.]

You're doing a very good job of that last one.

[She joins in on the teasing without hesitation, a smirk playing across her lips. It might be a while before that water starts boiling. It's a rather large pot.]

Though I'm guessing that's not the one you meant.

The first two and you knew what I meant.

[His idea of teasing is dry as a bone. He's so not funny. Anyway, still watching, for lack of anything else to do. It's not all that different from watching rodent burrows, in a way.]

[He looks all the more delighted when Imelda joins in. Tobias answers back dry but he laughs anyway.]

Hmm, you're right. You haven't learned the most valuable lesson yet. A watched pot never boils. You have to sing to it.

Really? [She's a bit surprised that heroism is something a bird would be interested in. Then again, she's still skeptical if he's really a bird at all. Animals just don't take to school or language nearly as well as he seems to have.]

[But fortunately, Héctor makes a very good distraction from her prying. She's heard the first part of his advice, but never the second. Still, she's not going to undercut her husband when he's onto something.]

Hmm. That might be true. Birds do sing, don't they, Tobias? You should give it a try.

[As if birds don't have language, he'd say, if he heard her say that. Birds, mammals, even plantlife. The whole world is made of blabbermouths.]

Wrong kind of bird. All I can do is yell. [He jerks his head towards Héctor, amused. Dude sure knows how he can let out a 'grito'.] I don't know how... hmm. [That 'hmm' turns into a genuine hum. It's an attempt?? Did he ever know how to sing? He doesn't think so...]

[Blabber is different from the communication of concepts.]

Ah, yes, but right now, you're not a bird.

[Not that there isn't a lot of blabber right now. He grins at the little reference to their shouting match, then listens to the hum.]

Yes! That's it! Move your voice up and down, just like that! Only to sing, you let it out! Like a yell but with more variation to the sound.

[Apparently, it's music lesson time now. She finishes cutting up the onions and dumps the lot of them in with the pork. Then some garlic, bay leaves, and salt, before covering the pan and letting it cook.]

You're going to have him warbling all over the place. [She's trying not to laugh, but Héctor's excitable energy is very catching.] Let the boy try just opening his mouth first. One note is easier than trying to sing twenty.

[Seems like a whole lot of effort when he could have gone and eaten some chips out of a vending machine. It's not as if he has to eat healthy in this shape.

He's stopped trying to sing, started talking normally again...]

Yelling words. And somehow making it sound nice... how'd you even learn how? I don't know if I can.

[Oh, that is going to smell amazing when she's done. He can't have any but he can sure enjoy that.

He grins at her, both to encourage that laugh she's trying to fight and because he's not at all seeing warbling as a bad thing.

Tobias stops him up though, making him blink.]

I- hm.

[He strokes his chin.]

I don't know. I just... did it? I've been doing it as long as I can remember.

[No one's ever asked him that before. He looks to Imelda like she might have a different answer.]

[At Héctor's look, Imelda shrugs and then waves off Tobias's concern with her hand.]

Anyone can learn how to sing.

It's practice, mostly. The same way you learn how to talk--by mimicking what you hear. No one taught you how to hum, but you did that just now, didn't you?

Edited 2019-11-27 16:50 (UTC)

I didn't learn to speak English. It was all dumped into my head one day.

[Bitter? Him? Yes, and it shows. It's just not quite for the reason they might assume. He's such a freak. Can't be human, can't be a real hawk, can't belong anywhere.

He looks back at the water, face blank and... begins to hum again.]

[The bitter notes make him frown. He's not sure what's got Tobias riled, but he says anyway;]

Okay, magic language, but she's still got a point. It's like flapping your wings.

[When the hum comes back, he eases, smile returning. Give a moment and his eyes close and he starts to hum too, making a harmony of it.]

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