micancion | IC Inbox || Genessia

From:

[she sighs. She hadn't wanted to do this, but who else can she ask? There is no one else here like her.]

Just answer me sí or no. Can we drink here? Eat?

From:

micancion

[That voice. No matter how many years it had been, he'd recognize it anywhere.

And the pain that is echoes in the memory of his heart is just as recognizable.]

Ah..s-si. We can. And feels the effects of the food. Uhm.

From:

la_matrona

[Count on Hector go give her a sentence when all she asked for was one word. She wants to be more annoyed with him than she is. She wants to hate the sound of his voice-- or at the very least, not care. But neither life nor death is fair like that]

Gracias.

[she won't contact him again]

From:

la_matrona

[she hadn't meant to see it but had, broadcast from one place or the other. And is furious for a thousand different reasons-- but also because this is the happiest she's seen him in a long time. And so she'd been right. And so they'd been right.

What wouldn't he accomplish without her?

If only she could think of a way to cut him free]

From:

la_matrona

[somehow she manages to arrive at a time when he isn't there. That's a blessing at least. She leaves a basket for him with his favorite foods and favorite tequila. She also leaves with him the few pictures she has of her... their familia and a small journal detailing their names and a little about them.

Then she cleans up the mud she's tracked her way in and slogs her way back to town.

She hates Everglade.

So much]

From:

micancion

[He trudges home some time after midnight. There hadn't much to his birthday, which he was thankful for. He didn't need another reminder of how many years he'd missed on Earth. How many years he had without his family...without Imelda or Coco.

It was harder to shake the melancholy away, but he'd managed somehow. Now he was just a little numb.

When he arrives at his little hovel he spots the basket and for a moment he's confused. He was pretty sure no one knew his birthday. Unless someone from Torchwood bothered to look at it on his file. ~~Though he might have just written 'old man' for age~~.]

Where did you come from?

[He lights the candles and lifts the basket onto the make shift table he'd set up. And with each gift, his heart tightens, remembering a time when these same gifts would have been accompanied with a smile and laughter...and the smell of citrus and vanilla. He swallows heavily, wishing again that skeletons could cry.

Especially as he comes across the small journal and the photos. His chest is tight and there is a lump of sand in his throat as he sits down, tequila and food forgotten for the moment as he curls up with the journal.

He commits every story to memory, ever name etched in his heart. The sun is peaking into his little house, and he is still sitting on the floor, eyes shut and hugging the journal to his softly breathing chest.]

From:

la_matrona

[there is an annoyed knock on the side of the wall near the curtain]

From:

micancion

[There is shuffling and a small muttered ow as the curtain is pulled back. Hector looks...well he looks like he just woke up. Hat missing, hair tousled and eyes a bit blurry.]

The snowmen aren't here and I don't know a thing about any headless espant-Imelda?

From:

la_matrona

Gracias a Dios for that. I never want to see a snowman again in my life.

[there's still snow in her hair and some of her bones have iced, though that may be difficult to see as she's drenched in mud. She rears back a moment as she sees him like that and the heart she doesn't have fizzes with warmth behind her ribs. She wants to touch his hair, push it back from his forehead, lean in--

Her fingers even twitch to do it but then she remembers she is all bones and that is all said and done too long ago. Instead she shoves a covered basket in his arms and pushes in to dust the snow from her hair.]

Tell me you have some sort of shower in this mud hole.

From:

micancion

Ay, tell me about it. You know how I always wished it would snow? I take it all back.

[He fumbles with the basket but doesn't drop it. Instead he moves towards the back of the small hovel.]

No shower, but I do have a small tub?

[There is a small fire pit, with embers still giving off heat in the cold night. He puts the basket down and picks up a few logs.]

Sooo how many snowmen did you fight?

From:

la_matrona

I could never see snow again and I would be more than content.

[she shakes her head and absently twitches the wrinkle out of a nearby curtain]

I suppose the water needs to be hauled for it?

[indoor plumbing was the greatest thing to have ever been invented and she will fight anyone who says differently. She waves a hand at the question]

Who knows. I lost count. And look. [she hefts her skirt and lifts her foot a bit] One of them bit my boot! These are my favorite!

From:

micancion

I wonder how long it will last.

[He gives a sheepish grin and nods, but he can haul the water. The swamp may be haunted, but the water was at least clear and clean.]

Wait, you actually fight them?

[Then she's pulling up her skirt and he's silently glad skeletons can not blush as he looks at the boot. He's worried, but obviously she'd gotten out of it alright...but he still tsked.]

I am very glad for the ghosts now. They kept most of the snowpeople away....can you fix them?

From:

la_matrona

Who knows. Too long. [these things always do.]

Of course I fought them. How else do you think I could get here.

[she glances around for a bucket and grabs two, lifting her head at the question] I can fix anything. [before starting out. She is determined to get clean no matter how dirty she has to get to do it]

From:

micancion

Y-you fought them to get here? Imelda you didn't have to do that.

[But she had clearly wanted to, and he knew well that what she wanted she would get. He grabbed another bucket, half leading and half following her to the sturdier dock. The land around the shack was more packed down now that he'd actually been working on things.]

Anything?

From:

From:

micancion - Date: 2019-02-10 05:52 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

la_matrona

It is horrible out there. [so she has stayed mostly in here.]

But it's lonely in here. I've always hated that feeling. [she's lying in bed, tracing the floor with the tips of bone fingers which he might hear]

Everyone was gone that day. Not all at once, just errands, things to do. Life. [she breathes a sad laugh] I don't even know what I was angry at and, ay nothing satisfied me. And... I lost feeling. I remember that now. In my hands. My arms. I had to lie down and rest...

[and she'd hated it and had been frustrated with her failing body]

And when I woke up, no one would notice me. No one could see me. I was there -- three days, maybe more? Before I crossed the bridge.

...And there was no one.

I thought I would go loco from just being with myself. [she didn't know how others stood it] So I found something else to work at.

Sad, isn't it?

From:

micancion

[He was surprised to hear her. It had been...a while since he'd dared to even think of her. It still hurt, but it was raw as well. Fresh. Something he could not remember being able to deal with without someone else.

And who did he really have?]

It...is.

[Three days...he couldn't remember if that had happened. But he remembers finding out she had died, nearly a year afterwards and by happenstance.]

But then the twins came, si?

From:

la_matrona

[She thinks they mean sad in two different ways but lets it go. Somehow it's easier to let it go. What is the point of holding on, or trying to with anything?]

Si. [but she doesn't want to talk about that and it's not why she brought it up. She strokes the floor with her fingertips as if it's a small pet]

It's like that now... Just you and me...

From:

micancion

[He does sigh a little but its has no hint of sadness to it. Simply...acceptance.]

We are...but...that's how things wind up. Right?

From:

la_matrona

[she winces at that sigh, then closes her eyes]

It should have been anyone else here. Any one of the familia would have fallen in love with you instantly. You would have been happy.

[she rolls over onto her back]

There should have been another woman. Or maybe I should have remained at the convento. They always said I would make a good monja. [Though she sounds faintly amused at this.

And then sadly...]

Lo siento

From:

micancion

[He has to snort at that.]

Imelda, you would not have lasted a month being a proper nun. Your fire is not soft enough for the church.

[There's a small splash, he's put his feet in the water and is lightly moving them about.]

I wouldn't have known them. Not without you. And they wouldn't know me. We'd be more strangers than estranged.

[And he wants to accept the apology but instead...he just looks out over the water.]

I...I know.

From:

la_matrona

[she's surprised that he can't. Glad that he can't. It's good that he can't and maybe never should. It makes her smile though she isn't happy. Strange]

You would be surprised how fiery monjas can be. But you're right. [her fire sears everyone.

At his words about the familia, she shakes her head]

Teto-- Hector... You would love them and they would love you. No one can hate you for long even if they want to. You are such a generous man. So kind. Giving almost to a fault.

[and she'd just given that up because she was stubborn and hurt and hadn't understood. Well when did she when it counted]

From:

micancion

Eh, Sister Josefina waaaas a little fiery but mostly she was like a wet blanket, bleh!

[It doesn't sear...it warms and inspires. Or maybe that was just him. There's a hollow laugh from him.]

If I really had been, I could have figured out how to keep you, coco and Neto happy.

From:

la_matrona

By being there! I don't blame you for going but that's all I ever wanted. All we ever--

[she cuts herself off]

No forget it. What's done is done.

And as for De la Cruz. What he wanted-- Do you know he-- He came to Santa Cecilia once. I--

I thought you would be there, but--

[she has to stop as an almost suffocating sadness fills her at the memory, but she pushes through it, shoves it to the side]

He never spoke of you. Not once. Maybe he did later on, I don't know. But -- you would have thought he would have told me you were dead.

[but she knows De la Cruz means much to him only]

And he never took care of you. Never. And I know you say it doesn't matter but it matters to me. And he could be bothered to care for something beyond his own estupido career.

And why are you so ragged in the Land of the Dead anyway? Why isn't he taking care of you? He is famous because of your songs but you're... You don't even look-- healthy half of the time, as if you're being forgotten and--

I bet he never told a single person. I bet you he didn't. [she's pacing the room now, furious] I bet he took all the credit because he is a filthy puta. He said-- do you know what he said?

He said to me that your dream was greater! That you wanted to play for the world and how dare I hold you back from your greatness!

That is what he said.

And I did hold you back because if you'd lived you would have been great, and even though you died, if he had just said something about you, you would be better off. People would know what you did!

And if you want to defend De la Cruz I don't want to hear it. [she holds up a hand, even if it is just voice] I know how you feel about him and it's not going to change my mind.

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