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Halfway up the stairs to the fourth floor, Euri realizes her spending time in Robin's room is becoming more and more commonplace. While she isn't exactly wild about that thought (his room still creeps her out), it's actually necessary today. He had told her something about needing to keep his power contained, which she didn't quite get, but if he really is that powerful then she'd prefer being cautious.

Euri stops in front of his door. She isn't all that scared of what Robin's true form is, as long as he doesn't look undead, but what if he decides to back out? What if he put more precautions in place and his room looks like some horrifying necromancer dungeon? Ugh, what if Michael is in there?

She twitches and shakes her head at that last one. Okay, now she's just being ridiculous. (Still, she can't help shooting at glare in the direction of Michael's room.) Whatever happens, she will suck it up and be brave like the awesomely tough bounty hunter that she is and deal with it. Especially if he looks undead! Robin definitely isn't the same as undead monsters, so she's got nothing to worry about. Plus, he has a heartbeat, so any changes would be purely cosmetic.

Who knows, maybe his actual form is incredibly attractive and she can't help but jump him and they have amazing sex right there on the floor....

Euri spends longer than necessary entertaining that thought before she finally comes back to reality and knocks on his door.

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The silence before is nearly unbearable, and he almost looks away--until her reaction. Her observation, her sudden shout, her confusing excitement over it; all he can do is look up at her with obvious and unfiltered disbelief.

The first thing she notices is his hair? (His beautiful hair...)

"You..." He falters, hesitating, not wanting to show off his pointed teeth if he can. It's too late for that now, though, so he finds what he'd meant to say, "You do?"

His voice is a little different, forced out of a different shape, but his accent is the same. His tone is the same. It is unmistakably Robin in there, even now.

"Of course! And your eyes, too," she's utterly sincere as she replies, smiling down at him. "They remind me of Dog's. They suit you." The most obvious connections are the colour and the lack of pupils, neither of which Euri finds frightening at all.

And the rest of him? He actually reminds Euri of a very humanoid demon. She can see how a human would be terrified... the pointed teeth, the claws, he's like something out of a fairy tale. On top of that humans in Minoa only have a hostile relationship with demons. For humans, demons are something to fear.

But for Witches it's mostly the opposite. While they don't get along with the 'grower' demons, the 'stagnant' ones (the ones Robin reminds her of) are often seen as allies. And virtually all Witches who have a familiar have a demon familiar.

"See?" She's taking his head in her hands, just to keep him still, so that she can lean in and press her lips against his forehead affectionately. "Nothing to worry about."

Something starts in his throat at that kiss, a feeling he isn't familiar with. But it spreads and pools, cool and warm and comforting all over until he's smiling despite himself, feeling just as relieved as when Michael accepted him. It feels like a weight has been lifted off of his chest, as silly as it is to make such a simple simile of it.

"I'm so glad..." he whispers, unable to do much else beyond the lump in his throat. He carefully takes her hand with one of his own and presses his cheek into her palm, unfathomably happy to feel warmth against his real skin. The sound in his throat finally comes up as a purr, low and much like a cat's.

Tulio notices, jumping up into his lap and purring as well. Robin laughs, speaking again, "You really are something, Euri."

This time it's Euri giggling, her free hand moving to pet him on the head. "Me? You're the one who can purr!" She's thoroughly amused at this discovery, tempted to try rubbing behind his ears to see if he'll get louder.

"That's adorable. You're like a big cat." Kind of. He's definitely adorable, at any rate, even if he looks about a million times more fiendish than a cat. "But, anyway, you feel better, right? Now that you've shown me?"

"I am not," he responds, though he looks more amused than anything by the comparison. He rests his hands on the edge of the chair between his legs, letting Tulio rub up against his chest. That's one of the reasons he likes the (former) stray so much; he likes him regardless of whether he's got claws or fingers.

But he supposes he can think of Euri like that too, now. He ducks his head under her petting, too used to it being the other way around.

"Yeah, I think I do. It's weird," he says, just voicing his thoughts, "I don't usually think about it, but now that I don't have to, I guess it's... one less weight."

Euri's other hand is falling back to her side as she continues to pet him. She just can't get over how much better he looks with his hair undyed.

"Good. I'm happy to hear that," she replies, expression softening. Then, with a sudden spark of an idea in her head, she drops her hand down to his claws, taking hold of his hand and tugging him towards the bed. It'll be much easier talking where they can both sit down. "You said there isn't a name for what you are, right?"

His arm is a little longer, so he lets her lift his hand and move almost entirely to the bed before he moves himself. He pushes off of the chair with his legs and stretches for the bed, walking onto it, again, much more like a cat than a person. He sits like a normal person, though, putting his legs in front of him and trying not to slouch in his slightly taller form as much.

"Other people call us things, but they're more descriptions." So, yes. "So yes, we had no name for what I am that we called our own."

She's not bothered by his unusual movements. If anything, he's just reinforcing that cat image he inadvertently created for himself. Once they're sitting, though, she realizes he's now taller, and that poses problems. It'll be uncomfortable trying to touch his hair now.

"Why didn't you create something?" She looks up at him, tilting her head curiously. She hasn't let go of his hand, either. "It... I don't know, it seems strange that you don't have a name for yourselves. Like you don't really exist."

Not to worry, it doesn't take him long to sink down, his spine more easily set at a curve. His free hand comes to rest in front of him again, propping him up. But her words have put a somewhat uncertain look back on his pale face, his lips pressed into a line. There's a bit of a problem with that.

"It doesn't feel right," he says, his eyes fixed forward. He fidgets a little against her hand; it's easy to tell that there's something else he wants to say. He just isn't sure how to go about saying it.

Euri still isn't satisfied. She's watching him, contemplating something while still listening. Doesn't feel right...? And his reactions, his expression, they're making her wonder just how serious this is to him.

"Why?" She asks after a beat, squeezing his hand. With her free one she's reaching up to touch his cheek, to try and make him meet her gaze.

He thinks he can say it. He makes a small noise, a call to his cat, who hops up onto the bed and curls up next to the girl he's been getting so much affection from. Sitting on his bed in his true form makes Robin feel a little more open about things. This is when he's at his "purest", so to speak, open to everything. That's why he writes all over his walls when he's in here. It feels safe to him.

Can Euri be a part of that? He doesn't know. He knows it'll make her sad, but if he told her, she would just shake her head and insist that she'd be fine.

"There were only ever nine of us at a time." That's sure to raise questions, but the rest is sure to turn her quiet again, "But I'm the only one left, now. It feels selfish."

His answer does indeed cause Euri to fall silent. Only nine of them, and he's the only one left.... What happened to the others? Do these nine include that person he mentioned on the roof, Finch? She opens her mouth to ask, but stops herself. Would he even want to answer any of that?

"......"

Euri turns and looks downwards, trying to take the tactful route and trying not to appear outwardly concerned. She's clutching his hand, though.

"Oh...."

And then she's letting go of his hand, grabbing him and yanking him down so his head is in her lap. She's running her fingers through his hair almost immediately. "Well... what do you think they would have thought of having a name?"

The yank is surprising and he tenses, arm bracing him up against the bed to keep himself up. But he realizes what she's doing quickly enough and relaxes with a sigh, letting himself sink down against her. The gesture is familiar, and strangely comforting, but he's not sure if she's doing this for him or for her own sake.

"I don't know." It's strange to think about them out loud to someone else (especially now that he isn't intoxicated), but he can see his clawed hand, pale and spider-like, resting right near his chest. It reminds him of them a little more and he curls up against Euri without much further thought.

"Finch would think it's a good idea. They love that sort of thing. They're the ones that gave us all names to begin with."

Euri feels mildly satisfied, now that she can touch him properly. It's like that night on the roof, but his room is warmer and she isn't having any problems seeing him.

"Hmm...."

That answers her question about Finch, and knowing there would have been at least one other of Robin's kind who was accepting of the idea makes her feel a little more confident. With that settled her mind starts running through various terms, fluidly jumping between the two Minoan languages.

"Fylucae," she murmurs, tapping him on the side of the head lightly. "How's that sound?"

His hearing is better in this form. Well, everything is better in this form--but he can pick up on sounds especially well. He repeats the word back to her, almost perfectly, trying to think of how it feels to attach to himself.

"I think I like it. Does it mean anything?"

Names are a big thing to him. That's why he still calls himself Robin even though anyone who would have thought it important was dead and gone.

Euri pats him on the head when he gets it right on the first try, then resumes stroking his hair.

"Mm, kind of. It's a combination of 'family' and 'volary'." She isn't sure if he'll like that, but it seemed appropriate to her. Only nine of them, two of them named after birds... it seemed reasonable to her.

"I don't know if that's okay with you," she adds, curling bits of his hair around her fingers. "If you've got something more appropriate in mind I can try again."

Family and... it works beautifully.

"There's Robin and Finch," he recites, reaching up to lightly brush his fingers against the underside of her jaw, "Blackbird and Woodpecker, Sparrow and Linnet, Nightingale and Falcon... and Crow." He swallows back the ill feeling his name stirs up and tries to focus on the good parts, the parts he likes to remember. "All of my brothers and sisters. It's a perfect name."

He closes his eyes, "The young ones would have loved it if you can put it in a rhyme. Sparrow would say it all wrong, though."

Oh, good. She relaxes when he expresses his happiness. Her biggest worry was that he would be offended, and the only small blip she's catching is that hesitation before that last name is mentioned. She isn't sure what it means, but she isn't sure she wants to ask. A small smile curls on Euri's lips, and she leans down to press a light kiss against the side of his head.

"This is the extent of my creativity, I'm afraid." Well, that and singing. "I wouldn't even know where to start." But she still sounds cheerful, as she adds, "I'm glad you like it, though."

"I really do." He smiles as she kisses the side of head, very much enjoying the attention. She reminds him so much of Finch during moments like these that he can't help but feel more comforted, even though his room puts them out of place.

Suddenly, he asks, "Can I tell you about us? Our family...?" It's a quiet request, but he doesn't think she'd say no.

She's a little startled to hear that question. Usually, when it comes to his past, she's the one poking and prodding him until he agrees. Either that or it comes in drunken ramblings. So this is good, right? Him taking the first step.

"Of course," she replies, without hesitation. Curiosity is getting the better of her, especially when it comes to Finch. "I want to hear all about them."

He asks it with everyone. He asked it with Michael, too. He's not sure why he feels he needs to ask permission; perhaps he doesn't think anyone would want to hear his stories. They're mostly sad anyway.

"I've got to start at the beginning, though. It won't make much sense otherwise." He rolls over a little so that he's looking up at her, but still resting comfortably on her lap. If he closes his eyes (which he does, for a moment), he thinks it feels almost exactly like it did back then...

How to start?

"A really long time ago, long before I was even born, the Gods were trying to figure out what to do with my world, Gratia. I guess they couldn't be bothered to watch it themselves, so they gave nine mortal humans a lot of power, nearly turning them into Gods themselves. They were each given an aspect of humanity to look over and were told to keep the peace and all that. They ruled kingdoms in the name of their Gods, which is why everyone called them the Nine Kings."

Euri doesn't stop petting him, even brushing some hair out of his eyes. "That's okay," she replies, wondering just how much he's going to tell her if he's starting from the beginning. Last time he was a lot more reluctant to talk, even if he did tell her some things.

Her first thought is that this sounds less like a person's past, and more like one of the stories her mother told her as a child before bed. The big difference is that, so far, there are no horrible monsters mutilating people - which means it's already a step up.

She decides to avoid mentioning the darker parts of those stories, but she figures Robin might find it interesting to hear about the rest. "This sounds like... I don't know, a myth or a legend - or even a fairy tale - from my world."

Robin nods when she makes that connection, opening one of his eyes again (the one furthest away from where she's touching his hair).

"I've only heard it told as a myth. It's... probably true, but it's never actually been proven. And it was too long ago for me to have ever met someone who would have been there. People say this was soon after the world began." He drifts into thought for a moment. Yes, he feels connected to Hoden, but who's to say that isn't just a very succinct madness?

He looks for the next part to explain. The fall of the Kings, right.

"The story goes that they ruled wonderfully and kindly and their kingdoms flourished... until one guy started getting greedy. He started sneaking land from the others, stirred up wars, made a bunch of alliances and enemies... And then all the others got dragged into it too, until they pretty much tore their own kingdoms apart. They were so caught up in their own fighting that they forgot about their subjects, who were pretty pissed off by that point... and they ended up revolting against the Kings and eventually killing them."

He frowns a little. This mindset is a little closer to home. "It really freaked people out afterwords--the idea of having kings and queens with that much power. People say that a third of the world died fighting for or against them. I don't know if that part is true either, though."

"Mm...." She nods slightly, contemplating this carefully.

"I think there must be some truth to it. Even if the story's been warped over time, it had to have started with a real event. Most fairy tales begin that way, right?"

She can't speak for Robin's world, but that's how it is with lots of human myths in Minoa. At least, that's how Witches view human stories. Her mother always said that since Witches have existed for longer than humans, they've always known better.

"Yeah, that's probably true." He churns the idea over in his head, throwing some logic at it. It's possible that it could have all been an elaborate hoax or a strange case of monsters with overgrown senses of entitlement, but...

"I think some of it definitely happened; people wouldn't have held on so closely to the idea if they didn't have a reason to fear it."