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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She looks away as she speaks, but his eyes are even more fixed upon her as she does. He feels a little breathless, hearing that. He's sure he's heard something like it before, maybe long ago, probably met with some teasing question of why everyone couldn't just fly. But here and now, it sinks in deep.
"Do... do you think... that's how I woke up? Because I wanted to go home...?"
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"But maybe being in the Outlands gave you that spark you needed, and everything since then has been you. Maybe that's why... this doesn't last forever. There has to be something driving you. Something to hope for. Otherwise, the magic fades." And it's like he said before--about his primos that didn't make it.
It doesn't escape her thoughts that by that logic, she almost killed him. Her smile fades again, and this time it doesn't return. "...I should have realized sooner what taking that from you would do." If he hadn't been so set on going against her wishes to see Coco regardless... He might not be here at all.
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His own smile slips as she speaks of fading. With the idea only just in his head, the double meaning to it hadn't yet hit. If this is true, they lost hope. His primos, he could've done something, he could've... somehow...
(He knows in his heart there was nothing more he could do. A temporary cheer up was only that.)
She takes it a step further and he shakes himself from that. "Wait, wait, no. You didn't know. I don't know! We're just guessing. And you were looking after Coco besides..." He shakes his head. "I was already breaking apart before I got here. It's not your fault."
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It's a thought that twists in her stomach to think about, but it only makes her more sure that what they're doing now is right. If his wish is to see Coco again, then... Then they need to keep that goal in reach.
"...We'll get you home. One way or another. Just promise me you won't lose sight of that."
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His eyes drop and he considers it, the chance of going to dust right there, leaving Imelda standing shocked. It wouldn't have happened. He'd never give up on Coco. He rose from the dead for their little girl.
But he's not without weakness is he? Not anymore.
"Back there, that- that won't happen again," he tries to promise. "I-I'll take it. If that ever happens again. I won't forget. I won't let it make me forget. Even if it-" His body flickers, a small warning against the memory before he wields Coco's memory against it, eyes squeezing shut as he focuses. Her laugh, her little hands... "-hurts." His magic holds up, if with his body sagging a bit more.
"But I don't want you to blame yourself," He says, like that moment didn't just happen. "It's not your fault I'm like this. Never was, never will be. If anything, you only gave me more time. Coco isn't the only one I wanted to see. "
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His words catch her by surprise in a way that... maybe they shouldn't. They've talked so much about how much he wants to see Coco, and all the ways she's denied or delayed him. It had never really crossed her mind that she was still in his thoughts for all of that time. That she had been part of his drive to return home.
It picks sharply at a long buried insecurity, an old thought that maybe he hadn't cared enough about her to come home. It touches her one way and embarrasses her in another. When the surprise fades after a moment, she looks away for something else to focus on.
"Well... You won't have to worry as much. With Coco. I'm not standing in your way anymore. We just need to be careful about what we tell her for now. And we need to get all of this under control."
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He smiles weakly at her assurances. She'd promised seeing his daughter but hearing it more doesn't hurt. He bobs his head. Getting this under control was already set in the terms. And being careful what is said, though that gives him pause.
"What are you going to tell her?" Not 'we', but 'you'. Any other way doesn't occur. "Are you going to tell her I'm here? I just... I don't want her to think that I..."
Abandoned her, which he did. That he doesn't love her, which could never happen.
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But she does glance back at him again, as if sensing his worries in that unfinished sentence. "...I won't keep her in the dark for too long. She'll know. Just give me time to figure it out."
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"Of course. I trust you," He says quietly. His mouth presses. He ponders for himself. "I... usually tell people I'm sick. It goes pretty far. Not the most inaccurate thing. I don't know if it would keep her away though."