Madrigal's Sunshine Boi

@luckyitsnotahurricane "Mami." His voice was calm, collected. Hazel eyes flickering upwards every so often, just quick glimpses, to make sure a storm wouldn't start to brew over his mother's head. Camilo, in his not so humble opinion, had always been the best when it came to weathering his mother's storms. He already had a pot of hot tea brewing on the stove top, in case this conversation had gotten overly bad. Really, he didn't know what to expect when it came down to it. If his mother would be mad at him, yell at him, create a storm. Or if she would take her oldest son into his arms, soothe him and explain things. All he knew was that he needed answers. Tio Bruno, from what he could recall, had been a rather big feature in his life. He could remember the older man cradling Camilo to sleep when he was younger, telling him these elaborate stories as if part of a soap opera. He could remember his small feet on top of his uncles, Bruno teaching him how to dance rumba and merengue. He could remember Bruno being excited that another male in the family finally had a gift, and giving him talks about not letting his gift define him or his worth, on the nights that Camilo would be scared and have break downs - those hadn't lasted long, considering Mirabel had been born a few months after his ceremony, but he remembered. Vaguely. He didn't know when his brain had shifted, really. He could slightly recall one night in his youth, sneaking down into the kitchen to see if Tia Julietta had some leftover arepas to feast on, always the growing and hungry boy. He'd remembered seeing a towering figure with glowing green eyes, and he remembered having nightmares after that. Needless to say, he had never snuck down for another arepa in his lifetime. But all these things were coming to him, and he sat down next to his mother in this moment, a hand gently on her knee. "Mamá, tengo una pregunta para ti.. I was just thinking about...." Eyes flickered, prepared for the storm to come. "....about Tio Bruno. What....what did he do that was so wrong that we don't even talk about him?" Camilo had become an incredibly empathetic person through his gift, and he wanted to understand. Sure, Bruno had left the Madrigal family behind, but that was all he knew. And really, could they all not understand how overwhelming their gifts could be? Had they not all wanted to flee at some point into solitude? 

@lacasitamadrigal For all things sweet that Camilo could be, he could also be all things sour; a fact that most of his family was very aware of. Though his entire gift was meant to put a smile on people's faces, he had always had a fierce side of him that he wouldn't hide when the situation called for it. Both accounts were most likely from being raised in a mostly female family; the complete softness and empathy of caring for others, as well as the need to protect and be the 'man' of the house. Not to discount Papi and Tio Agustin, of course. But neither of them had gifts. And it had put a different sort of pressure on him than he could even describe. The smile on that face was always there, the jokes always left his lips, but that fire burned deep in his core as well. And that fire had just happened to come out that day while doing his tasks in the village. He got along with most of the villagers; there was no reason not to, after all. The Madrigal family provided for the village, and ever since the loss of their gifts before the rebuild, the village had provided for them in turn. However, being basically the 'celebrities' of the village had its downfalls. And one of them, Camilo had noticed at a young age, was that the Madrigal girls especially were always at the forefront of people's minds. He knew his cousins, and his sister, were all beautiful - he wasn't blind. He had spent enough time transforming into them to know their flaws were scarce. But that didn't mean it wasn't something that absolutely bothered him at certain moments. Like when he'd be walking past as someone in town, not in his own form, and hear the boys of the village talking about his sister. Sometimes in crude ways. As a teenaged boy himself, he knew that lust and fantasy could run strong, but that didn't mean he liked hearing it. Which was how he had ended up now. Transforming out of nowhere and shocking the group of boys, throwing his own fists in defense of Dolores, had ended up with him having a steadily growing bruise around his right eye, as well as a swollen lip. He'd take it, really. It had gotten them to shut up, after all. He wouldn't continue with his chores for the day, too high-strung and concerned that his temper would add in more injury - totally to the other guys, not to him. Normally, he could easily shift and cover his face to look normal, only hiding the visage within the safety of his room. But, what was the point now? No one would be home, they'd all be in the village doing their own chores. La casita would be empty, and he wouldn't see a single soul until dinner that night. Or so, he had thought, until he walked into the kitchen to grab some ice, eyes widening. "Tia Julietta!" More of a squeak, quickly hiccuping and trying to shift to hide his injuries, though it had just resulted in a few surprise transformations before he was standing there, his unshifted self, looking shell-shocked to see another Madrigal. 

@luckyitsnotahurricane He couldn't believe he was doing this. If he had been a betting person, he would have bet against himself in this position. He had been close to Isabela when he was younger - the Madrigal family bond was prominent, after all, considering they all lived together. It hadn't lasted long, however, he had noticed. Perhaps it was the six year age difference. Perhaps it was that he was a boy, and she had Luisa, Dolores, and now Mirabel to spend time with. For someone that was as known for being feminine and producing all feminine qualities as Isabela, it was about as much sense as he could make of the reason he had stopped getting piggy back rides and having her braid his longer hair. In retrospect, he probably should have gone to his sister, but there were certain topics he didn't want to discuss with immediate family, and this was one of them. Sure, Isabela was basically a sister to him considering they all lived together their entire lives, but....formalities. And honestly, he didn't think Luisa or Madrigal would have a clue where to start when it came to the....questions....that the young teen had floating in his mind. Luisa would probably be far too reserved and embarassed, and Mirabel? He didn't quite know how she would respond, but he knew that Isabela would have the answers for him. Which was why he found himself outside of her glowing door, taking in a deep breath, and rapping his knuckles across the wooden frame. It wasn't often that the Madrigal family spent time in each other's rooms, outside of the gifting ceremonies where the celebration would be held and the gift would be revealed. He knew his own room was his sanctuary, and he didn't want to intrude on that. But when there wasn't an answer, he knew he had come too far to back down, opening the door and sticking his head in, mop of hair covering one of his eyes. "Isa? Are you in here? I....have some things to ask you." 

OH. EM. GOODNESS.  I was asked to participate in a prom for high schoolers with special needs next weekend that is Encanto themed. They asked me to be their Camilo. I....am going to scream. 

I’ll be doing some starters the next few days, so keep a look out for those! I’m really excited about them!

Look me directly in the eyes and tell me that Camilo Madrigal wouldn’t rock painted nails and guy-liner. He has no qualms. Gender is an allusion; especially for him. 

I seriously can’t wait till tomorrow. My amazing friend (who happens to be a Cuban immigrant) invited me over and we are going to make sopapillas together as Camilo and Mirabel and just sing and dance and be totally whacky cousins and yeah it’s just going to be GREAT. 

Camilo has SO MUCH MUSE today because he was in my dream last night and I am just sad that I don’t have any family members to write with. ): 

Wow, I did....all of one reply and then got completely worn out. I guess I shouldn’t thrown myself back here FULL FORCE, necessarily, but hey....I did it. And I’m coming back slowly. And I am proud.