Héctor (
unpocoloco) wrote2019-01-06 04:17 am
Entry tags:
Daybreak IC Inbox
HéctorUN: 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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Which helps in not hesitating to open the door when Héctor makeshimself known. If home is where you feel safe and supported, he feels far more at home here than he ever did at Daybreak, where he was acutely aware of where he kept is nice every step he took.]
Ah, my good friend! Just who I wanted to see. Oh, and Esqueletío's here, too, or something. [He laughs and eagerly goes to hel, ah, ease Héctor's burden.]
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But he doesn't shift. He knows Maverick's preferences.
He barks a laugh, jubliant. He quickly surrenders half to Maverick.]
Hey, be careful, that there was my amigo first.
[He makes his way inside, spirits already lifted.]
The move went well, I'm guessing? I'm going to call for that pizza now unless you're set on a kitchen raid.
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[He wanders in, nonchalant. The place is a distinct divide between orderly inn room and Maverick's strewn about shit, even if his most Maverick of things were left back at Ramona's apartment. You know, like the dick chair. For some reason, she didn't want that in her workplace.]
Yeah, things are good. Uh, Mousie's thinkin' about coming down here for a while, too. Guess he's got girlfriend drama...
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Mousie? You've got to leave me a guidebook for all these nicknames sometime, chamaco.
[This isn't the first time Maverick's completely lost him that way.
He sets those bottles down, then pulls out his phone to find that number.]
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[He's teasing, but also it's true. Only fitting nicknames in this house. He's quiet (for him) while Héctor makes his call, softly cursing when the bottles clink together or he struggles with the top, and while he gets two glasses out, in the end he flops onto his bed near the headboard, ensures there's a cleared space for Héctor, and drinks straight from the bottle.]
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Mousie has me thinking someone small, quiet, possibly likes cheese. Those are vauge and broad descriptors you know.
[He takes up a bottle for himself and settles back in that cleared out space. He shows off with his effortless removal of the top.]
But the mouse is a he and has a girlfriend. Hm. Still got nothing, I don't keep up with all the romantic antics you kids get into.
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Yeah? I think of a skittering little shit that squeaks and panics, running off before you can do any fucking thing about it. Fluffy little fucker with a surprisingly mean set of teeth. That help?
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He makes a fave at Maverick, just so it's clear the trap he's been put in and how much he doesn't like it before he speaks.]
Mmmmokay. But he's been doing better.
... besides the girlfriend troubles I guess.
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Oh, for sure. I'm really...fucking proud of him, actually. Even the breaking up with Florida Woman thing, that's -- I think it's good for him. He's taking care of himself. I feel like...
[He hesitates, bringing the bottle back up to his lips but not drinking again just yet,]
If he can do it, I can do it. So I wanna see him while he's fucking doing it. He says he wants to, though -- move here, if they let him off the leash.
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... Wow, he didn't know those two were dating. He doesn't see how that one worked. Except it didn't.
And then his expression is softening out of that surprise. His head tilts Maverick's way.]
You can do it. Both of you can.
[He's sure of it. The confidence comes easy. He smiles just a little.]
I think that sounds like a good plan though. And I'm really hoping they follow through on letting him free. He's definitely earned it... and it sounds like the both of you have gotten back on better terms. I'm glad to hear that.
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No shit? He realized I wasn't the fucking enemy and I actually knew what the fuck I was talking about, of course things are better. Only... [Now Maverick frowns again, more worried and contemplative than his previous uncaring show.] He doesn't remember who Cricket is. I know his memory's shit, and he doesn't like thinking about things that get complicated, but that's a whole new level...
I asked Cricket if it was something he did -- like another Contract. I could see that, you know? Fucking dumbass. But he didn't know anything about it. You ever see Mousie forget something big like that?
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He pauses in drinking, lowering his bottle down when Maverick speaks of forgetting. He's heard of people being forgotten. Maverick himself held an example with his parents. He shakes his head, brow furrowing.]
He's always sort of had trouble hanging on to things. Like you said, his memory isn't that good and he gets overwhelmed. But it was always little things... people he didn't talk to much.
[Even with the traumatic, simply forgetting a person but remembering things around that person, he's not sure how that works.]
I don't know. It's something I'd see a doctor for but I wouldn't know how to bring that forward.
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[With a heavy sigh and a free hand running through his hair, he goes back to his drink.]
Like I didn’t have enough shit I had to talk to him about already... I dunno how to bring up the — the whole “my boyfriend magicked you into fucking trying to drown yourself” thing. Or if I should... He’s better about not just saying the shit he needs to keep quiet, though. And he should fucking know?
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[He's had answers in some cases. Not in this one.]
It could set him back, telling him that. Whatever he thinks of it, and then to say nothing of how he'll react to your boyfriend when he's just gotten away from a watch.
But he should know. Not to mention, the longer you wait to tell him, the worse it might look. However you do it, it's going to take some crazy delicacy. And it might still go bad.
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Here I thought I knew better than to get fucking sucked into drama... No accounting for shitty luck, I guess.
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There's always going to be something, mijo. Probably even if you took off to be a buddhist monk in the mountains, but especially here, at this school. Especially as long as you care about people.
[And Maverick cares a lot.]
I guess... get him some support to sit with, figure out what you're going to say beforehand, maybe wait until he's settled here so he doesn't blow his own chances. Try not to blame yourself if things go south anyway and know it was for the best. Make sure you've got something lined up for yourself because it's going to be terrible either way.
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Gosh, I feel so fucking encouraged.
[also he doesn't care, shut up!!!]
Anyway... I fucking said I was gonna focus on my own shit this semester. People can do whatever the fuck they want, long as I get to fucking graduate at some fucking time. Not that it'll matter if y'all fuck up that whole preventing Nightfall thing.
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He lifts a brow by the end.]
You all? Not counting yourself among the defenders?
And yet still counting me?
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Didn't do any of that Herald shit. Dunno if I will for this next one if there really is another one coming, either... Rather fucking bug out with Mama, even in the fucking...tropics, or something.
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I see. Can't say I fault you. I'd much rather just take care of Coco.
[Secure their home, hope for the best, wait it out. Not much a role model here.]
But Imelda is going to fight, so I probably will have to try unless something happens. If I can even survive the big Radiance blast the school always talks about wanting to do.
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[As a human, and a Candle that's supposed to be capable of Radiance to boot, he hadn't really...thought about it. He frowns and leans in a little now that he has.]
What the fuck are they even thinking? I may not like all the fucking freaks crawling around this place, but how goddamn ungrateful do they have to be to just throw that out there when a good fraction of their fucking forces are Blighted somehow?
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The working theory is that the Radiance could be a key to curing blight. I think that's why they haven't brought me to a lab, they want to see how I do rooming with all the candles here as a case study.
I really doubt it will work like that, but if it does, all those lycans and vampires are home free. The only non-vampiric undeads I know are held up by contract and mage magic. Maybe that will be enough. As for me, I've got blight or nothing so I really don't know. But I doubt one guy will make them think twice about stopping the apocalypse.
I'm going to play it close. That's all I can do, you know?
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[He's talking to himself more than anything when he mutters,] Rather trade every fucking vamp for just the "one guy". Far as I'm concerned, you're the one that actually fucking deserves the second chance. How can you be all Blight and not be a fucking dick like the rest of those monsters?
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That's some loaded phrasing, mijo. [Really loaded.] You know I've got to point out that there's more just a handful of those guys who fight really hard to be safe.
[It's not worth fighting that bias, knowing where it comes from. He just can't not say it.]
But, being undead does mess with people deeply like that. It's meant to be a curse, blight. That's part of why they offered me to stay here, a blight without hunger, bad deals, or losing one's mind implies loopholes.
Thing is, I don't know if they understand that it's all got a price. All those other blights give more, they give strength and immortality. Things like that to go with hunger. I don't have that. I don't have forever. I've just got a little more time than I would have.
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[Vampires are awful!!!! He could never like one of those things, absolutely not, and most definitely doesn't already love one. That'd be ridiculous.]
That's basically bullshit anyway, though? You're too young, you can't be much older than I am, and you don't get to fuck around during the day, either. You used to rot, for fuck's sake! This "little more time" shoulda been yours in the first place, and all you got is drawbacks. My brief personal experience indicates skeleton shit ain't worth it without a better deal.
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