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((Continuing from this!))

[It was a good thing Robin was gone when Euri finally woke up. She had been cranky and hungover and once she remembered what had happened last night she was mortified. Not because they had shamelessly made, or because they nearly had sex, but because she had told him she was a virgin, and on top of that she had even let him into her room without bothering to hide all the witchy objects she owned.

She tried to focus on the latter as she ate breakfast in her room and nursed her hangover because, frankly, thinking about the teasing and comments and gossip from the former didn't seem nearly as bad as the reaction she was bound to get from the other castle residents about being a witch.

She pondered confronting Robin, but the mere thought was far too embarrassing. Besides, there was another memory stuck in her head from the previous night that refused to go away, and it was making her curious.

He had seen her room, but she remembered her inquiry into his own hadn't netted any results. Now that Euri was sober, "barely touched it" sounded like an obvious lie. That was why she eventually found her way to his floor, and to his room.

She was pretty sure Robin was out for the moment, and she had summoned Dog and ordered him to go have father-son bonding time with Nirel. So it was just her, a door, and whatever lay on the other side.

With a hardened expression she concentrated on the doorknob, letting it catch fire and heat up to the point where any and all locks would be rendered useless. She was just going to take a quick peek, nothing more, and then go back and stew over what he was undoubtedly telling the other residents.

When the doorknob cooled enough she used her scarf to open the door, and slipped inside.]

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[a good hunch. "barely touched it" couldn't be further from the truth.

the room itself is surprisingly small and strangely dark--the walls are a dull slate grey, muting the color of everything else inside. the floor is made of wood, but most of the floorspace is covered by simple furniture or the occasional boring throw-rug. there's a design carved into the floor, curving around the room, which she might be able to feel through her shoes as she walks in.

the walls are probably the most alarming thing. they're covered in writing. some of it looks complex--drawings, equations, penciled-in lines connecting one thing to the next. long paragraphs, a messy scrawl. some of it is larger and disjointed, like snippets of sentences, or just single words. some of it is the same word repeated over and over again, or barely recognizable drawings of things that may resemble people or animals or shapes. most of it's hard to read without getting closer, but from the door, she can see that circles keep showing up in his designs. some of it's written in chalk, some of it's written in pen, some of it's pencil. some of it's blood (those words are easiest to read) and some of it's carved straight into the wall or the table. there are some blood splatters here and there that don't fit the pattern, as well as a few spots where he must have just scribbled aimlessly.

there's a very simple single bed in the corner; the most comfortable thing in the room. there's a lot of writing centered on the walls around where his head would rest. there are also long, deep gashes carved into the ceiling right above his bed. next to it is a nightstand with a few candles and a tall, narrow shelf where he seems to keep his clothes, neatly stacked and organized and kept away from the chaos of the rest of the room.

heavy curtains frame his window, which is cracked open just enough to let in the sound from outside. sunlight streams through it, but doesn't make the room any brighter. there's a simple wooden chair in front of the window as well.

the rest of the room is covered in shelves and a large table, filled with books and papers and clippings and a few miscellaneous boxes or odd objects. he's got a growing number of takeout boxes building up at the corner of his desk. an old record player and a small collection of records has it's own small table next to the door, also kept clear of any chaos. there's another door that leads to the bathroom, but it's closed.

it reeks of magic in here. it feels like Robin does, but everywhere; it's not a comforting room. the furniture is stiff. he has very few nice things--aside from the mess of books and papers, you could argue he really has very few things at all. the place feels small and full and unnaturally aged, but he's gone to lengths to keep most things off the floor.]

[For a moment Euri considers turning around and walking out. The first thing that sticks out is all the writing, and she's fairly sure that's the kind of thing crazy people do. She remembers a few stories from her mother in which people were locked away in dungeons or towers and viciously tortured and how many of them wrote disturbing things all over their cell walls, a visible symbol of their madness that lasted long after the creator.

But she's steeling herself, and after shutting the door most of the way taking several steps in, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. There's a window and some drapes she could move, but she doesn't want to start touching anything quite yet. The entire room feels creepy and empty and unnerving, to the point where she tries to focus on the things that look normal first, then get to the rest.

Okay, a bed. It's pretty plain. There's a lot of writing over there and she doesn't like the look of the gashes in the wall, so she turns a bit. Clothes... that's normal... table with books?

Euri's briefly reminded of the kinds of books Adel reads, and doesn't move any closer. Her eyes have fallen to the gramophone, anyway, since it's at least familiar to her. She'll start with it, giving the rest of the room a glance before examining the records and recognizing none of them.

... Well, the hall was empty when she came in....

Taking a record out of its sleeve she sets it on the gramophone, winds it, and carefully places the needle down.

Robin's got some pretty strange taste in music. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PDeB7Ruo0Vc)

But it's not as bad as that other resident's idea of music, so she'll just leave it on as she sucks in a deep breath and heads over to the table to get a better look at the books and papers.]

[sound travels well in here, at least. it's nice and soft. the throw-rugs have something to do with it. the table is in pretty good shape. it's been written on, but most of it's been erased. no carvings or blood splatters. so far, so good.

everything on the table is vaguely divided into two sections. to the left, information on Paradisa. news clippings from old papers, fliers from town. things are circled here and there; he seems to be using some sort of number code to reference pieces to each other. he's also vaguely compiling things together in a thin, tightly-bound notebook--but he writes in such short, choppy sentences. some of it's not even English. it'd take a while to decode. this side also has similar books on history and crime and a few cases from other worlds.

to the right, more stacks of books. they're about all sorts of things--plants, wildlife, technology, poetry. the ones closest to him are clearly about magic from different worlds, and he's marked or copied over a lot of passages and images that are, again, dealing with circles.

the thing he was probably working on last is a newspaper clipping announcing a sale of grand pianos in the district between the 6th and 7th riverheads (somewhere). he underlines a name, circles the location. Scribbles next to it messily, "Relina Quent is a piano prodigy. Family very well off. Considered an art. Would not be selling pianos between rivers on the coast. Find follow up (?)."

he's using a couple of gas-lamp for light, it looks like, and there's a mini-fridge under the table. it's not really full of anything interesting--mostly food that's easy to make. if she looks.]

[All this stuff certainly looks like something a madman would compile. Either that or it's a bunch of legitimate investigations. As Euri skims through the papers and books it's increasingly hard to tell.

And again, thanks to Adel, she's focusing on the books about magic. Specifically, she's checking them to see if there are any from her own world, and if they have anything to do with black magic and necromancy. Fortunately there's only a book on summoning, which irks her, but isn't nearly as bad as the other two.

The rest she can't really make heads or tails of and she isn't planning on sticking around for long enough to really try. She's going to remember he had a lot of references to circles though, because as she glances at the walls again she's noticing they are showing up fairly often.

It's kind of creepy, considering her contract is in the shape of a circle.

Anyway, she's starting next on the various boxes and odd objects he's got on the table, giving the wall small looks as well.]

[this wall is fairly clean and organized compared to the others. it's hard to get past the table, and this is where he does his thinking. the side of the shelf has been marked up with the model of a ship--some kind of dirigible--and the walls are mostly descriptions. "Just outside of Redvale is a field that blossoms in blues and purples. Jay says he used to play there as a child." "The window sticks." "Constellations circle about the north star, but where is north here?"

Most of the boxes are filled with more pens, paper, ink, small blades, erasers, chalk, etc. one of them, made of a higher quality wood, is filled with feathers from all sorts of birds. he has another, even smaller box, that has just a few little eggshells in it. a few boxes are filled with dried plants (lavender, mint, pine). the objects include a compass, other navigational equipment, some stones, coffee mugs, and a couple of weird stone figurines. one looks like a tall tree and stands perfectly on a well-balanced trunk. the other looks like a cathedral.]

[She's taking a good, long look at the cathedral figurine. It almost reminds her of the pictures of churches and buildings she's seen in books about the Lightkeepers. Of course they would be into that kind of ostentatious thing.

She sets it aside, looking at the feathers and eggshells and plants. All of those things are fairly common ingredients in a wide variety of witch potions and brews, but she's not sure if Robin would be keeping them around for something like that (though she's noticing he really does have a weird bird theme going on).

She doesn't see how the writing on this wall is related - it all looks like random jumbled thoughts you'd write down in a diary. That does, however, give her a bit of hope. Perhaps the rest of his walls are the same random insignificant babbling?

Stepping back, Euri decides to give the rest of the walls (save the area near his bed) a closer inspection.]

[there's a lot to look at, and there's more of it the closer you get to the floor. he doesn't often reach up very high unless it seems like he's running out of room, and then his thoughts are logical and orderly. down below, sometimes his snippets of sentences overlap each other.

"who would care ? no one would know " "--were supposed to have a child. We all heard about it. Is it a spirit too?" "where everything is disconnected" "HATE HATE HATE HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HATE HIM I" "They're saying there's no way back." "Vincent says I shouldn't drink Vincent says I shouldn't smoke Vincent says a lot of things but Vincent isn't here and I miss--" "I'm so tired." "monday morning Robin Red felt a knock upon his head the doctors all pronounced him dead but he is merely sleeping".]

.....

[She's getting down on her knees so she can read all that writing properly. There's a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as her eyes scan over the words, some of them several times. The repetition of HATE HIM especially worries her. Sure, he came across as creepy when they first met, but last night seemed okay....

Maybe breaking into his room wasn't the best idea, but she's here now and she's already looking through so much there's not much else to do but press forward. Hopefully there'll be something else here that helps her make sense of all this.

Standing back up, she glances around. There's the door that probably leads to the bathroom or a closet, and the area near his bed.

Euri decides to avoid his bed, and heads to the other door. She has to brace herself before she opens it and produces a small fireball in her open palm.]

[oops. here's where all the blood went.

not much else is good for writing on the white tile walls of this bathroom. the walls and the floor are actually kept very clean. no grunge or mold building up at the edges, no lines of grime in the shower. there are some boxes of hair dye, some bottles of shampoo and conditioner and soap. some washcloths and towels, kept bizarrely clean and folded just like his clothes out front. there's a cabinet full of the usual things you would find. scissors, nail clippers, some light pain killers, bandages. there's a first-aid kit, but it's never been opened.

that's where the normality stops. there are little snippets of hair on the ground where he must not have cleaned them up. there are some drops of black on the floor around the sink... dye, probably, since it's also in the sink proper, not quite washed down the drain. there's a crow's feather on the ground for some reason. there's a thin trail of blood that starts from the sink and leads down with a small splatter onto the floor, then drags back out the way she'd come.

that's all probably second-sight because of the rest of the blood, though. hand prints on the wall, smudged fingerprints here and there. it's mostly light, but prominent against the white. and the writing is much shorter in here. "stop it" "it hurts" "disgusting" "alone" "nothing" "you are sick" "you are sick you are sick you are sick you are sick you are sick you are sick you are sick" "shut up".

a tabby cat suddenly brushes against her ankle.]

[Euri nearly screams at the contact, jumping away and hitting one of the walls with her back. Somehow the sight of a cat just makes everything weirder.

She's staring down at the feline, deciding what to do. While she isn't much of a cat person she doesn't hate them. Lots of cats roamed around Metaphor, many of them familiars to witches. The poor thing really didn't need to accidentally step on any hair dye or... blood....

So Euri letting the small curling of flames hover in midair, then she's crouching down and giving the cat a few experimental pets before scooping him up into her arms. Already she's feeling a bit more confident, reminded of all the times she's held Dog's puppy form when she was scared. While a cat isn't quite the same as holding a dog, the animal is still a welcome replacement.

She's about to stand when she notices the feather on the floor. It probably belongs in one of those boxes, though what it's doing in the bathroom is beyond her, so she'll pick it up and stuff it in her pocket.

And then she's standing. There's nowhere else to look but at the writing on the wall, and as she slowly reads it she holds the cat closer.

This is far, far beyond messed up. This is... she isn't sure what this is, but she can't just leave it alone. She's going to have to talk to Robin about this. Try to help.]

It's too bad you can't talk.... [It's only an absent murmur to the cat as she backs up, letting the fire go out. With a quick turn she's moving out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and making her way over to the bed.]

[the cat's purring very quietly and doesn't seem to mind at all that he's been picked up. when she reaches the bed, however, he starts to wiggle around until he can climb out of her arms and land on the bed. from there it's a quick hop onto the floor before it scurries away under the bed.

much like the table area's writing was more organized, the bed's is probably the messiest. most of the writing is very small, very thick around nearer to the bed. the scratch marks on the ceiling are deep and vary in angle, but there are more shallow ones here and there in the nearby walls as well. they're very clean, very precise. half-hidden behind his pillow is an unfinished picture being carved into the wall with that same method--it looks like a picture of some people all standing in a line. there are nine of them, but one of them has two heads.

above it is written in ink, "This place brings people back from the dead." it looks like he tried to write more, but it's smudged off several times. then, carved deeply and forcefully underneath it, "one must learn not to cry for the living. one must learn not to live for the dead." the rest is written over and over again, "go to sleep. go to sleep. go to sleep. go to sleep." "can't sleep can't sleep". "go away". "go to sleep." the cat is dragging something out from under the bed, tail flicking a little back and forth.

it's a dead crow.

it doesn't smell, it's not rotting. it's probably only been dead for a day, if less. it's feathers are all disheveled and some are missing, probably thanks to the cat (who is sitting next to it expectantly). it's neck is twisted--broken. the cat definitely didn't do that.

the song ends.]

[Well, she certainly saved the best for last. She has to crawl onto the bed and squint to make out some of the writing, since it's small and some of it overlaps. The lack of light isn't helping either, but Euri's in this deep. It'd be stupid to just ignore the rest.

It's an understatement to say that she's scared by this point, but there she is, sitting on a crazy man's bed, tracing her fingers over some of the letters carved into the wall, as well as that picture of the nine people.]

.....

[The rustling of the cat gets her attention, but when she sees what it's pulled out from under the bed her already pale pallor is growing whiter.

She's leaning down to get a better look at the crow. Yes, it's very clear the cat didn't do this. Gingerly, she's picking the dead animal up and holding it in her lap, staring down at it blankly.]

[the cat gives a small mewl up at her when she's quiet for too long. he's about to jump up onto the bed when he suddenly turns his head, ears shifting. a pause... and then he scurries under the bed again.

Robin opens the door.

no, no, no. people aren't supposed to be in here. he looks shocked as he turns, realizing that it's Euri who is in the room with him--sitting on his bed. looking at his things.

and then he sees the bird. livid doesn't even begin to describe the way he looks, his hands bunching into fists as he fixes her with an inhuman glare. his words are tight, sharp. final.]

Put it down.

[Oh.

Oh shit.

Her first thought is to summon Dog - and her second that doing so would make things worse. He likes birds, after all... something about him being in a relationship with one....

Euri swallows, eyes wide, and a half second later sets the bird down on the bed. She doesn't move though, she's kind of frozen.

This was an incredibly stupid idea.]

I -- [Fuck, what is she supposed to say now?? Maybe she should get up. Maybe he'll be nice and let her leave and he'll just... be angry without her around. He might!]

I was just - .... [... Yeah, there's nothing she can say that won't make this situation worse.]

[goddamn it. he doesn't know how much she's seen. just--just being here is a violation of the only fucking place he's ever been able to keep to himself and she's ruining everything.

he walks over to the bed, stops just past her, and reaches down the the bird. his fingers wrap around it slowly, like it repulses him. only when he's held it for a second (when it's dead weight is actually in his hand) that he lets out a snarl and throws it across the room--it hits the door to the bathroom with a sickening thunk.

he grabs Euri's collar, almost in the same motion, and drags her over to push her up against the wall. unlike the first time they met, he isn't playing. he's holding her up high, a few feet off the ground.]

Just what? [he's speaking through clenched teeth, his volume rising.] What are you doing here?

[Euri winces at the sound of the bird hitting the door. Witches killed all kinds of animals and insects, so she wasn't unused to it, but it was always for a reason. It looked like Robin had killed that crow just... because.

But in the span of a few seconds she's becoming just a little more concerned about her own wellbeing instead of the dead crow's. She's biting her tongue, though she's squeezing her eyes shut for a moment or two, and she's grabbing his wrist with both hands.]

I'm sorry-! I - what you said last night...! I just kept thinking about it!

You shouldn't be in here! No one should--!

[no one should be in here. no one deserves this but him. it's his burden, not hers. it's his power, not hers. his thoughts, his writing, his family. it would take absolutely nothing now for him to throw her against a wall like he did that fucking crow.

his fingers curl against her shirt so hard that the fabric creaks and threatens to rip under the friction. he can't stand to look at her. can't stand the thought that she's still here.

his grip loosens, and he lowers her to the ground.]

Get out.

Edited 2011-08-08 05:02 (UTC)

[It's when Euri's feet touch the ground that she realizes she was holding her breath. Exhaling, she's afraid to move away from the wall in case he tries something else. So she spares a tiny glance up at him, and behind him the writing on the walls - those screwed up thoughts and formulas and god knows what else - is plainly visible.]

...............

[Oh, god. She can't believe this. He's going to kill her.]

... No.

[...what.

there is no reason--no sane, logical reason why anyone would stay. he doesn't believe it. she need to leave. she has to leave. or else... he... she'll...

and with that stupid little word she's shattered something in his composure. he doesn't want to be here. he wants her gone. he looks down, anger slipping away into something worse--a fear that's welling up in his chest.]

Get out! [he shouts it this time, trying to fight his own rising panic.]

[This would be a lot easier if Dog was present, but she's drawing herself up to her full height (still much, much shorter than Robin) and glaring at him. She can do this, just show no fear and make him listen.]

No!

[She's gesturing tensely at the walls, trying to avoid pointing specifically at the area around the bed. Her hand is shaking, but she's hoping it's not that obvious.]

What is all this?? And - in the bathroom, too! Normal people don't write on their walls in their own blood!

It's not yours! It's none of your business!!

[he stumbles backwards, screwing his eyes shut and bringing his hands up, his palms sealing his ears shut while he clutches the sides of his head.]

Get out, get out!! Leave me alone!

[he's breathing hard, shoulders hunched up defensively. Euri hasn't one anything, but he doesn't want to think about this--any of this--that he's trying desperately to keep himself together.]

[Oh god oh god did she make this worse somehow - maybe she shouldn't have said normal - or maybe it's just because he's really REALLY crazy and she never noticed before -

Euri's mind is flustered with thoughts, and she has absolutely no idea what to do. She stands there dumbly for several moments, hands curled into fists, trying to think up some way to at least calm him down.

And that's when it hits her. Hasn't she been in this kind of situation before? Granted, there was a lot less yelling, but the general idea....

And Adel had certainly felt better in the end, she thought.

So with great reluctance Euri is stepping closer, putting her arms around him, and hugging Robin tightly.]

..... I'm sorry. I'm just - worried.

[he freezes.

she's... worried?

...that doesn't make any sense.

and for a moment, things just... stop. he doesn't breathe, he doesn't move, he's trying to recover those words and give them some kind of understandable meaning. she doesn't belong in here, with him. no one does. but she's worried. why is she still being nice? why hasn't she run away yet? why isn't she scared? why is she still touching him?

he's shaking. he slowly moves his hands, again aware of the silence of his own room. the sound of her breathing, the feel of her heartbeat against his chest. it strikes him as terribly unfair.

he puts his arms around her shoulders and holds her back, hugging her just as tightly. his voice is shaky, but he sounds more drained than angry. more nervous than violent.]

You shouldn't be here. I don't want you to see.

[She's amazed that worked. With how volatile he was acting, Euri was honestly unsure whether the gesture would even reach him. She's grateful that it did - it means that whatever problems he has, he isn't too far gone.]

I'm not leaving. [She's saying that firmly, because she's remembering last night, how he didn't want her to go anywhere. That memory is giving her a bit more confidence.]

You can try, but you're not getting rid of me, Robin. [She's giving him a reassuring little squeeze before reaching up to run her fingers through his hair in a comforting gesture.]

[he just buries his face against her shoulder. this is too embarrassing, too private. here's got no defense here. all his manipulations and lies and careful planning are pointless. this is the only place he can truly be himself, and this stupid girl has wormed her way into the middle of it.]

No. [he insists, weaker than last time.] I don't want you in here. You'll ruin everything.