unpocoloco | Daybreak IC Inbox

[As if he knows what chamaco means.]

< I don't know about that. Both are probably tricky. How many hummingbirds have you squashed? >

[...now he's just being a little shit.]

[He squints.]

Me!? None! My daughter would never forgive me! I should be asking you!

< I don't... think so. I don't remember going after a hummingbird. >

[Other small cute critters? Of course. He is a predator.]

That proves it then! Hummingbirds are harder to catch!

[The brief tour outside is over. He takes them back in and to the lost and found, a big, cavernous wooden bin. He lowers Tobias a bit so he can hop off and grip the bins edge.]

< I'm not sure you understand the whole idea of proof. >

[He's teasing. Badly. And yes, hopping off the guy's arm to dig his talons into the wood instead, peering at the box of stuff. Free stuff. Nice...]

It's proof of elimination. Or something.

[His words go muffled as he simply tips right in.]

I see... a jacket... a sock... a shoe for the other foot... pudding cup...

[Oh, wonderful, isn't the pudding going to rot in there.

Well, it's not his problem.

He can see a bit of what looks like feathers on a t-shirt in there...]

< Look to the left, there's a shirt. >

[He pulls the shirt free and lifts a brow at it.]

I am a lie. What the heck does that mean?

[He turns it to display for Tobias.]

Would this work?

< Uh... okay, didn't expect that. >

[He stares into the pigeon's face for a good thirty seconds, doomed to always be expressionless. (Or furiously glaring, depending on how one interprets it.)]

< ...I don't get it either. Set it aside and we can look for something better? >

Something really weird happened to everyone's sense of humor in the last decade. This, that... song thing...

[He shakes his head and digs some more.]

Some pants here. Little bit of ripping but it's no where embarrassing... ah! How about this!

[He holds it up.]

Edited 2019-09-02 06:27 (UTC)

< Song thing? >

[Like he cares about a little rip. He's worn worse, back when he had fewer options and no choice but to be human...]

< I like it. There, I have clothes. >

Oh just some-- this kid, Peter, used to go here but lives at my place in Santa Cecilia now. He said something like, "that's so sad, better play Despacito". Next thing I know I'm listening to some kind of wierd lyrical Adult Movie made into song. That only I can understand by the way with the spanish. I had to break it to him why some wouldn't appreciate the joke.

[All the while he gathers up all they have. Just sling that over his shoulder and offer his arm.]

We'll just stay in the dorm for now so you don't have to worry about socks or shoes. Can just practice walking.

< Weird. It's probably a movie quote. It always is something like that when I look up a 'joke' that makes no sense. >

[He's doing this. He's really going to become human again. Give up his wings and his eyesight, and possibly solidify the idea that he is just a kid in Héctor's mind, if it isn't already. His human form doesn't look old enough to drive and there's nothing he can do about it.

Too late to back out now. Back to his ride he goes.]

< Right. No wandering around until I know I'm not going to give anyone the creeps. >

[At that, he laughs. He starts onward.]

You're at Daybreak, Toby. If you're not giving someone the creeps you're probably hiding something. Wander if you like. I just want to make sure you don't fall and hurt yourself or something.

< Nah, I won't. Besides, it'll go away if I do, once I change back. Like a magical reset button. >

[Which he'd share if he could. Poor frail man, he could use it.]

Pretty convenient! I can do that with most of the flesh wound stuff. Definitely helps a lot.

[Just not his bones. Oh well. There were healers for that.

He takes them back to their room, a quick and easy enough journey, but doesn't bring Tobias to the branch. Instead, he opens up the bathroom, letting Tobias hop onto the counter and then setting the clothes down. He locks the door on the other side, just in case.]

Let me know when you're done. Or if you need help with anything, I won't mind, or judge for that matter.

< It is. I hurt my wing once, I would have been a goner otherwise. >

[Yes, just casually talk about near death experience, this is where they're at. True friendship.

And when they get to the room... Héctor will learn that his 'voice' can pass right through doors without lowering in 'volume' one bit.]

< Don't worry, I think I can figure out what clothes go where. >

[Give him roughly three minutes to shift and a couple more to dress for the first time in months... and he'll rap on the door, unable to unlock it from his side.]

[Well that would've been regarded with a wince and a look of horror. But, well, he gets it. So many things he's run into since he died that would have killed him if not for already being dead.

He kind of expected Toby's "voice" to do that. It doesn't spook him. He just waits, patiently, nodding at Toby's assure but still waiting. Coco at three years old could figure out what went where but that didn't mean she hadn't had trouble from time to time.

He hears the knock and makes his way in, unsure what to expect.]

All good then?

[Behind the door, a perfectly ordinary human boy. He's very much on the thin side, and around the age the growth spurts begin. (They have. He's going to be tall one day, he's got that gangly look.) His dirty-blonde hair is a bit messy after dragging the shirt over it, but at least he hasn't done something insane like wear the pants on his head.

There's something steely in his face, something that he never had when he was truly human, before all these things began. Maybe it's the lack of smile? Scary, how quickly his humanity faded.]

Hhh. [Whoops. Damn. He clears his throat and tries again.] Hi?

[He stops in the doorway. He knew it would be a bit of a surprise but he wasn't anticipating... this. He looks the boy over, messy hair to bare feet. A gangly thing.

The expression isn't familiar-- it's not one he let himself have, at least where anyone could see it. But everything else sinks in.

He blinks a little at the verbal greeting, nothing going off in his head.

And then all at once, his own expression softens.]

Hola, Tobias. Look at you, you're a mess. Let me help.

[He goes to the sink, grabbing his own comb and giving it a good wash, flicking it dry. He reaches carefully for the boy's shoulder.]

I'm just going to comb out your hair, okay? So you don't look like I did when I crawled out of ditches.

[If Tobias will let him.]

[What he said about being 'creepy' may be true. So much basic body language that all people do without thinking it over that he's forgotten. Uncanny valley in the flesh, not bad CGI on a movie screen. A hawk's eyes don't move in their sockets--he turns his entire head to look at things, like his shoulder when it's touched.

Héctor seems to have shrunk, rather than him growing. The whole room is smaller. He's already nervous... how in the world did he stand living this way? But at least speech is coming back to him. He can do this. He's faced worse and survived. And he's glad for his lack of expression, honestly. Weakness spells death for animals in the wild.]

Oh--okay. If, if you want to. It's just us. Why were you in ditches?

[He does want to. There's a lot he's feeling he should do right now but he can start with that. He takes the comb through Toby's hair, slow and gentle. It's still just a bit damp from washing and that should help smooth things easier. Any creepiness is ignored, for now.]

Depends on when you're asking. [It's a rueful laugh, but a soft one.] The year after the outlands, probably a last-minute place to hide during the day. In my teens, something stupid. As a kid, ah, well, probably playing in the mud.

[He keeps bringing the comb through, getting a stubborn flip to go smooth.]

I didn't realize. If you'd told me you'd be about this size we could have saved ourselves a trip. I still have some things I had to get for my younger self here-- fae spell gone wrong. I'd been planning to donate them, but I guess they'll come in handy after all.

[He sets the comb down. Then holds out a hand.]

Can you walk on your own or do you want me to brace you?

Edited 2019-09-03 06:51 (UTC)

[A bird thing in human skin, standing there awkwardly having his hair combed. It does feel soothing, balancing out his nervousness. He's afraid to turn his head now and ruin whatever this is, and he doesn't know what to do with his arms. They just dangle there, heavy and useless. Not like wings at all.

Eight months. That's all the time it took for being human to become so unnatural. Eight intense months, more exciting and vivid than his previous life ever was.]

I couldn't remember how tall this kid was. I think... walking is okay. And talking. Obviously.

[Hah hah, lame joke, he's a real comedian.]

[Eight months would do it for anybody.]

Obviously.

[He lets his hand fall with a nod and a smile, moving out of the way so Tobias can go ahead. He doesn't go far, wanting to be sure the boy's got this first, but he'll be off to the desk in no time, tugging open a low bottom draw. There's a pair of dark shoes there, some socks, and a folded up sweater with skeletal print.]

I had somewhat prophetic tastes. But it all should fit you. You can stick your hands in the pockets then, feels less weird.

[He brings it over to wherever Tobias sits. He doesn't look over as he speaks then.]

Speaking of strange... I remember you were pretty insistent you're not a kid. I've been going with that. Despite you not being that old... and sounding like a kid... being a grade student... It's kind of weird with that all in mind that you wouldn't mention your human form just happens to be... a kid. [The faintest wry smile pulls, but he doesn't want to accuse Toby, so he doesn't look over.] And it just reminds me of where that insistence usually comes from. I just want to say, if there's something here you're not being entirely truthful about, now would be a good time. Or call me fool. But no big deal. Do let me know if the shoes are too small or big. It could help us figure out the right size.

[He does sit, on the bed and on his hands both. That seems more natural, having something to do with them. But only for a moment, because there are shoes to pick up and look at. They're a little on the big side...

Meanwhile, his heart is thudding painfully in his chest. Caught. He done goofed. He's outed himself, he must confess now or real anger will follow.

No. Wait. Héctor hasn't said one word about being a human kid. He can still salvage this. He's not doomed, he's not going to be screamed at...]

I don't want anyone to worry. I've been looking after myself as long as I could think. [When in doubt, double down and lie to Héctor's face, utterly impassive.] People aren't going to trust a kid to have their back when they need it. Especially if the kid's a bird. Right?

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