hugtopia_logs | 'no' is the saddest experience you'll ever know.

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'no' is the saddest experience you'll ever know.

♥ Who: Cliff Norman and whoever wants to put up with him.
♥ Where: various.
♥ When: Early November.
♥ What: A sad wolf is a bad wolf.
♥ Warnings: Cursing, Hell content in Héctor thread naturally.

[ one - the loneliest number. teen house. ]

[He doesn't know why he hasn't taken Kaito up on his offer before, especially since he's made a point to walk by his house a couple times to check on it or make sure it existed in the first place. The damage done by the worms isn’t enough to take out the place or make it unsafe, thankfully -- and it even leaves the task of quietly getting inside through a window even easier! Not that he couldn't use some difficulty as a good distraction from feelings he's trying very hard to ignore. Before he goes to climb inside, he makes a quick pass to see if the garden is likewise a survivor from October’s big wormy mess.

And then he's in a home that isn't his. It's weirdly soothing for someone that never relished the idea of spending time in his own home growing up, even if it's far from the window he'd really like to be climbing through. Nothing to do about that...and at least here he could feel vaguely welcome. Both Kaito and Shinji had invited him in the past! It's fine. Cliff is several steps across the room and listening for signs of anyone else being around before he calls,]

Hellooo? Anyone home?

[...decidedly not from the front door.]

[ two - just as bad as one. héctor. ]

[hahahahahahaaa fuck everything about this. He honestly hadn't meant to avoid Héctor all month, but with the worm drama on top of his dumb tender feelings, there hasn't been a good time. That's what he's choosing to tell himself so that he doesn't get frustrated all over again thinking about all the thinking he's had to do.

In the end, Héctor is still Héctor, whether he's the one Cliff knew or not. He knew he wasn't the same and had plenty of reason for that. What mattered most right now was that they were both, more or less, doing okay -- something Clifford had been able to be sure of without getting too close, thankfully, because of his nose.

Now he's getting close. So close, in fact, that he's right at the door and scratching at it with his claws, full wolf. He's...fairly confident that Héctor would be the one to answer any call to the door in this household, from what little experience he's had with Nekane, but if not? He's leaning into the anxious hope that one of the things shared in this -- bleh -- marriage is not the fact that Cliff is a big dumb werewolf.]

[ three - dog night. open. ]

[The scariest part of the worm attack, surprisingly, was not the worms. It was that moment he went to become the wolf and felt like there were hooks on the inside holding him together, refusing to let him change without a fight. He'd fallen to the ground in agony that only lightened when he finally stopped trying to shift and let that part of himself go. Cliff didn't flaunt the fact that he was a werewolf -- basically, anyway -- but not being allowed it, even on his own? Terrifying. He'd barely managed to get his head back on straight enough to shuffle citizens and helpers back towards the safety of the town center, and had been grasping at any chance to help defend.

It's still screwing him up a little, but Cliff’s making the most of getting himself back, going around the city as a red, juvenile wolf watching life get back to normal and honing in on interesting sights and smells.

Of course, the boy in the red hoodie with eyes like an animal can be found wandering as well. Usually out running at any odd hour or stuck behind a counter doing his best to act like someone who knew how to be polite.]

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['Mijo' again. He still can't figure out how he feels about it even though he's coming down and his brain reminds him it doesn't...mean anything. It's the same as a, 'Listen here, son,' except not for assholes. But he can't shake the reactionary, 'I'm not your son'. Sure would be nice if he hadn't been burned so badly by people he'd called fathers before.

Cliff starts to run a hand through his hair before realizing that's a little gross when it's still damp and with more than tears. Falling apart might be necessary and all, but it fucking sucks.]

...Yeah. Better than getting pissed like usual. [In general, not at Héctor specifically, not that he stops to think about how it could very well be interpreted that way with how things have shaken out between them...more than once...]

[He laughs, rueful but amused.]

Probably. Less mess to clean up.

[Metaphorically speaking, unless one decided to go breaking things like he and Nekane did sometimes.

He is aware that it could be directed at himself specifically, but he's not going to highlight it. Things were rocky between them, but there was plenty of reason for that. Between them, always, is the ghost of he should be, wrestling with the reality of who he actually is. Between them are all the little injuries they've carried with them. All things considered, he thinks they're doing rather well.]

I am sorry. To have opened the wound like that. I didn't consider how fresh it all is.

[You'd think he would've...]

[Things are working out! They would probably always have slips and screw-ups between them, being the individuals they are and having such a complicated connection, but despite that, Cliff is sure that for as long as they're both around, he's going to want Héctor in his life. As much pain there's been in adjusting to each other, adjusting to this place has been easier than what it could have been.]

Nah. It's been three months... [He was already feeling homesick. Héctor just gave him a chance to actually dwell on his feelings and deal with them. Hard to begrudge the guy for that, since he's not already worked up over something else.] I was away for longer at school, but I could still talk to them. Kevin would always apologize for calling when he couldn't get to sleep because of the time difference, especially if he'd already called after school. I'd do almost anything to get woken up like that now.

Three months feels like a long time to start with.

[It feels like nothing to him now, but at first, it stretched on. Worse still when he thought he had just a year ahead of him.]

I know what you mean. Not so much with the calling, of course, didn't have that option, but I would've loved it. I wrote her letters. I sang our song. I kept wishing I'd be woken up by her and I'd be home, in bed, and maybe Imelda would be there too. And that was before I died.

It's the sense that you can always reach out, go back. Things aren't so bad then. It's when you can't anymore and you have to wait that it all really...

[He doesn't finish that sentence, his mouth pressing. He takes a moment before continuing.]

It's tough. The first while is really tough.

[No argument here. Three months has been so much, especially with all the weird happenings! Is this what it's like to be Oscar? Gross.

Cliff grunts his agreement, eyes tiredly moving to focus on the floor. He can understand now how his hope and love was such an effective weapon in Hell. Giving up on seeing them ever again and finding whatever happiness he could...really was the kindest thing he could do to keep himself sane, huh? God. He hopes (ha ha) he never reaches that point, especially since there's not even torture to go through here, unless you count possibly hugging a stranger. Yuck.

The point is, Cliff will...try. He'll try to be more understanding of Héctor's strange choice in partner. He takes a deep breath and loops that resolve around his head a few times to really cement it in.]

...Thanks, by the way. For all this, and coming here. For a least favorite anything, you're not too bad.

[He laughs, surprised, and pleased too. He grins crookedly at Cliff. ]

Of course not. I am, after all, still a favorite.

[Teasing done, his grin softens. He shrugs a shoulder.]

You're a friend and a good kid. It's no problem to me.

Plus... if I teach you to dance, you'll get use everything I've taught you to make my girl happy and dance with her in my stead. That's a pretty great deal, if you ask me.

[Another very gentle push with his foot. You stop that... Pretty much all of that, cease.]

"In your stead" like I'm doing it at all for you. Psh.

[He would be, probably, a little bit, sometimes. Mostly, though? He's very selfish and wants to be making Coco happy all on his own.]

[He sways like the push is a great wash of a tide.]

As if it's optional! By the very act of passing it on, I benefit! That's the way it works!

[He's grinning and teasing, but there is a grain of truth. If Coco is happy, then he's happy. Whether Cliff intended it for him or not is irrelevant. Through the lessons, he'll exist.]

[He might roll his eyes, but he knows Héctor is right. It really is just that simple...but it would make Coco happy, and that's what mattered. The lessons would have to be put on hold, though -- after that, even with the joking around, he feels too shitty to learn something new.

He doesn't let the idea quietly die, though, and while he doesn't let Héctor know beforehand, he decides one day to swing on by and see if the the old sack of bones is up for it. Meandering along on his tablet, not paying attention to much in particular, he doesn't realize that the kebab -- fruit instead of meat, why this? -- offered to him in thanks for his work the previous day might not be the best idea until he's well on his way. He could bail -- there's not even anything to bail from because of his obnoxious need to be an unpredictable teen -- but a look around that makes him stumble confirms that at this point, he's closer to Héctor's place than his own. And here he thought he'd never have a problem like this, not living that far!

By the time he's at Héctor's doorstep, he barely has the strength to knock before he moves to sit, and he rests his head back against something solid that will keep him upright, unfortunately, he's chosen the door.]

[It's a moment before he answers, the unmistakable sound of a cane tapping before the door opens from within. And then, just like that, there is a boy at his feet. He blinks.]

Uh... you okay there, Cliff?

[Oh. Good. It's the one that doesn't want to punch him. Falling back and nearly banging his head against the ground has helped jostle him awake enough to push himself back onto his feet and grimace.]

No.

[The yawn would be so much cuter coming from a wolf. Oh well. It would be a lot cuter if he wasn't having a lot of complicated feelings right now, too.]

I kind of need to crash here for a little while? Even if you could carry me back, that's... Fuck that.

[He winces on Cliff's behalf for the sound of his head hitting the floor. Sometimes there's just no making the situation cute. But there's no hesitation for his part.]

Sure thing, kid. Do you want the couch or the bed?

[He wavers, then offers out a hand to help him up.]

And while we're at that, what's the story?

Couch.

[Frequently unused or not, bed is just weird... Though it is tempting to ruin the neatness.

No. No, the need to curl up and doze is too strong. He can be led around with the ease of which one would a toddler. The well-behaved kind.]

I dunno. Feels like a spell this witch put on me once... Just need s'mewhere safe. Can't figure it out r'now. If a lady comes, don' give her your name.

[Lead he does. It's a little strange. He's so used to Cliff keeping his distance except for the bottom of his running shoes, leaving tread marks on his clothes. Not today.

The explanation, which is of suspicion and underlying fear, sets of a little fear in him too. But he keeps it off his face and out of his tone.]

Got it. No one lives here. We're not interested. We're armed and unfriendly. [Softer he adds;] You'll be safe. I promise.

[Once the couch is reached, he guides Cliff down. Collapse away, muchacho.]

I'll grab you a blanket in a moment. Do you need anything else?

[Collapse he does, after giving short hums of affirmation. Yes, armed and unfriendly. Yes, he'll be safe here. Maybe it's hearing that out loud, but he felt a little better for a second there, with Héctor's hands directing him! Very weird and backwards. Anyway, still time to curl up on his side, trying to enjoy what softness he can. Prone as he is to sprawling out and taking up as much space as possible, the way he huddles almost makes him childlike -- all that confidence both real and blustered torn away to leave him as the kid he really is.

If he does need something else, it's lost to an even more ambiguous noise. Probably safe to assume that having someone he trusts around is all he's looking for.]

[With his hood up like that, curled up small, there's a painful moment in which he thinks of Miguel. He goes to grab a blanket-- even if he's got to yank it off his own bed-- and he lays it over Cliff. He sets out a glass of water for when he wakes, then he settles down close by, weapon ready at his hip, and he keeps watch, however quiet the day or night.]

Sleep well, kid.

[He'll still be there later, arms folded over his chest where he sits, eyes closed, but not asleep.]

[He stirs a little at some point, not long after, just to pull the blanket more securely around himself. Some time after that, Cliff opens his eyes partway, taking stock of the situation before sitting up and shifting the blanket into a cape. Not on one of his preferred couches, but since his gaze can settle on his least favorite, but still a favorite, Héctor, he can tolerate that.]

Hey. [checks his arms...] No freaky outfit this time. That's good.

[His eyes open at the first greeting and he looks over to see Cliff risen up. The added comment draws out a cough of a laugh, born entirely of a dark humor and total understanding.

He gets up so he can pass Cliff the glass of water.]

No freaky outfits, body modifications, or missing anything. Safe as promised.

[He waits until Cliff has had a sip (or has chosen not to) before he goes on to ask.]

So. Any idea what happened? [Here or back then...] Smart of you to find somewhere safe, knowing something was off.

[He wants hot chocolate -- or Atole, that'd be great, right, he should swing back around on that idea to give a progress update -- but the water will do. It'd be pretty rude to whine about it. He still rolls his eyes at the mild praise.]

Yeah, well. Get kidnapped once, you don't want to do it again. [As for what happened... Now that he's not falling over and has a working brain, it's a lot easier to think about what happened between his place and Héctor's.] I was already headed over here. The only person I talked to was someone I helped out yesterday with worm stuff. I don't think it was actually like what that Zulime lady did. I just got really tired.

[Hot chocolate can be done. Probably. But water comes first. Cliff rolls his eyes, but he speaks plainly.]

Smarter than I've been. [The mention of kidnapping feels like hands around his throat, squeezing. He has questions he wouldn't dare ask. He can't even really meet Cliff's eyes as he says;] I hope you weren't hurt.

It sounds to me like you were drugged this time. Did you eat or drink anything before coming here?

[Weak shrug. He won't bother with the whole spiel this time, because it was very obviously super not fine, but,] Don't worry about it. I don't think she hurt me. She wanted to sell me off, I guess.

[He pauses on his way to another sip.]

Oh. Yeah. Supervisor guy gave me some fruit. But why would he drug me? The 'bots are pretty grateful to us.

[He scowls at that. Zulime. He'll tuck the name away, remember it, just in case.]

That's not great either.

[But moving on. Cliff makes a good point. He can still think of reasons, terrible possibilities, but there's another option, one that makes more sense given that no one followed Cliff here.]

Good news, it's likely you weren't drugged on purpose. Was the fruit from those new trees?

No. It wasn't.

[Even if he can't remember most of it, what little he did was terrifying. He's just...so fucking grateful for Oscar, and that Eliza wanted to protect him, and that his mom believed in him enough to know that something was wrong, even if he couldn't tell her any part of the truth. It was nice to know she wouldn't give up, no matter how dramatic an exit he made.]

Huh? [Oh, right. That stuff. Cliff sighs and leans back against the couch, looking annoyed.] How should I know? Probably. [Curse you, supervisor! Curse you, worms!] I thought all it did was make you want to be close to people.

[And yet the boy says not to worry about it. He tries his best. He really does.

He reminds himself that not everyone is so paranoid about what they eat. Nor should they be. It's not something he wishes on anyone.]

I'm surprised you'd even risk wanting that. I'm not certain, but usually, when some magic thing or other happens, there's... the possibilities seem to vary. At least a little. I can't know for sure, but that's my guess.

[There was no point in worrying about it. Nothing would come of it now. It already happened. It's over. It's fine.

Cliff huffs and levels a petulant glare in Héctor's direction.]

I didn't know that's what he was giving me, or I would have at least thought about it! I'm sixteen and you expect me to pass up free food? [He sets the cup down so he can be free to gesture dramatically.] I mean, like -- I was already coming here to make you give me dance lessons! It's not like being close wouldn't happen anyway, so it might have still happened, but I didn't just shove drugged worm fruit directly into my mouth on purpose, man.

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