Robin in Love pt. 2

[Robin Stark]

718 Zi’da 41

“No,” He answered, watching the man with the bright eyes very carefully. As much as he wanted to scream brave and bravado, this wasn’t a game of lies. Or at least, not for him.

Mathias’ smile remained as he waited, no reaction at all.

“You’re uncomfortable to be around and that makes me nervous,” Robin admitted, begrudgingly. “But I doubt I’m the first person to say that, am I?”

“That exact choice of words would be a first.”

“But not the sentiment,” he said, before quickly clarifying, “not a question.”

Mathias merely shrugged; he seemed more to be playing the game than engaged in the conversation. “What else makes you nervous, Robin?”

“Not a lot,” Robin shrugged, “I can’t read people, like I do the elements. Stranger people, like you, make me more nervous than most. Things that don’t die when I want them to,” he rethought Mads answers, no master, cult member, not seeker. He doubted he felt very much of anything. No fear, no happiness, but maybe, “What do you hate?”

Mathias blinked three times in rapid succession - thought? -, before he replied, a bit slower than before. “I do not hate.” It was an unnerving statement - a suggestion that there was something… more than hate. That hate itself was either too far beneath him or, worse, far too simple and weak a thing to bother feeling. He didn’t elaborate. “And you,” Those bright eyes seemed to glimmer for a trill - though Robin had the distinct feeling it wasn’t anything akin to wonder or whimsy, in spite of the next words out of his mouth. “What do you... love?”

“Cute question,” Robin audibly rolled his eyes.

“Why, thank you.”

“The elements, obviously. And…,” he stared blankly, because he didn’t have more to add. “And that’s it, I guess.” No Victor, no Felicia, no Zipper, no Hans. “Who are the people you’ve worked for?”

“They number in the hundreds, I imagine.” Mathias’ eyes grew distant for a moment, recalling. “Antelmo, Cátia, Domitilia, Senhor Eire, Erasmo, Erasma, Ernesto Cardoso, Estela, Fausto - not Fausto Vilar but Fausto Torres -, Fernando, Fred, Gaspar, Glauco Castelo, Glauco Costa, Glauco Cabral, Judite, the Lady Liliana Morose, Primrose, Senhor Sousa...” He paused, brow raised. “Would you like me to continue?”

“You don’t have to, so it’s your question.”

He blinked. “You just answered my question.”

Ah, so he was extremely close to the rules. “Who initiated you into magic?”

“A woman with the spark of abrogation.” At no point was there hesitation or doubt in his voice that the answer was anything but correct. “Do the elements you love offer you all that you seek?”

“Mostly, yes,” it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time he would hear that question, even if Mads phrased it more diplomatically than Zipper ever had. “What was her name? The woman who initiated you.”

Mathias blinked. “Graci.” Nothing else was offered. “If it is merely ‘mostly’, what is it the elements lack?”

[Robin Stark]

“Sex,” so not a diplomat.

The smile on Mathias lips faded for blankness. “Oh.”

“What is your favorite memory of Graci?” He wondered if she was a cultist, same as her magic offspring.


There was no immediate response as his eyes once more grew distant and thoughtful. He sat in silence for at least a bit, if not more, before he finally replied with a calm and steady, “I do not have a favorite memory of her.” Such an answer was almost always a lie, but there was something about his eyes - those empty, bright eyes - that suggested he was telling the truth - or at least the truth as he understood it. “How do you believe you will die?

“I don’t believe I will,” It didn’t change that he would, maybe, but he’d spent his whole safe with the elements. The four had kept him and secured him against worse that what stood before to-trial. And there was the always present chance he’d reveal. “So she was that special, huh. What happened to her?”

“She was trapped out in a distant Barony.” He continued right along. “Have the elements ever failed you?”

“Nope,” Robin answered, the wind shifting with annoyance. The four didn’t care to have their capacities questioned, and neither did Robin.

“Hm.”

“How did she die?”

Mathias shrugged. “I do not know the answer to that question.” As he drew a short breath to ask his next, a scream cut through the air - the sort of cry that escaped out of desperation and fear of death. He blinked, head cocking to better listen to the following silence before he started again. “Have you ever failed the elements?”

“Yes,” his mouth thinned into a single line and the wind died down, “Did you ever fail Gracie?” He ignored the scream because it wasn’t anything Robin cared about. He wasn’t a hero and he had no plans to save anyone.

“Absolutely.” Like all the answers before, Mathias gave little indication as to how they affected him. His voice was calm and empty, almost carefree but lacking the whimsy and lightness that often came with such a term. Again the scream sounded; it was closer than before. “In what ways have you failed the elements, Robin?”

Robin guessed Mads wasn’t a hero either. Someone was screaming, louder and louder. Maybe they were dying. Quacia was a rough place, even without the plants. “I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. I’ve ignored their warnings. I,” he swallowed and Mathias’ eyes grew brighter, waiting for the words to come, “I haven’t been the best partner.”

He watched as the man watched him, his eyes brighter and larger still. Mads was all curiosity, filled with one thing and one thing alone. “Do you want people to be afraid of you?”

[Robin Stark]

A third scream - far more frantic and edged with panic - crashed its way into the courtyard; this time the sound clearly came from the path behind Mathias - across from Robin - and still neither moved. “I do not particularly care what other people choose to feel in regards to my person.” Even if Mathias had intentionally added that little whisper of deceit people so often employed when they lied, Robin would still have imagined the answer to be truth. Whether he cared or not, it seemed as though it was something Mathias didn’t mind benefitting from, at the very least. “And why-”

Panting, sweating, eyes wide and sucken and worried, a gaunt woman with stringy black hair and ragged fingernails stumbled into sight. Her bare feet slapped pathetically against the cobbles; the sounds of her heaving breath mingled with the almost wet noise of skin against stone. Her frantic gaze feel to Robin, dark eyes searching, pleading, as her chapped and broken lips parted to release another, near deafening scream.

“Ew,” Robin face soured with disgust. She was a complete mess -- and as far as he was separated from humanity, she was at least doubly that. She screamed again, louder, demanding, and noise that mix human with something very wet and --

“Gods, that’s annoying,” he said, watching as she waddled her way towards him. “What’s wrong with her?” The earth rumbled and the wind picked up into a breeze, circling him, careful of her.

Turning to glance over his shoulder, Mathias called out in his easy, unhurried Vahanic. “Você está bem, senhorita?”

“A- ajude-me!” Her bare feet stumbled, tripping over a stray stone as her hands reached out toward the two of them. “Por- por favor!”

Turning back to face Robin with that same simple smile, Mathias inclined his head toward their approaching third. “I do not know what is ‘wrong’, but she is currently propositioning us for our help.”

And Robin laughed. He laughed freely and wholly, a delirium of everything Mads lacked -- passion and joy, and determined spite. “Well, Mads? You going to play the hero?” He asked, two questions in a row - three now - and he wondered if Mathias was still counting.

“I might. Is that a game as well? ‘The Hero’?” He didn’t seem familiar with the phrase - though it could very well have been a jest in that it didn’t take a great mind to determine what it meant.

“Por favor; por favor!” The woman’s voice was hoarse, scratching against the walls of her own throat, crawling out of her mouth with as much determination as desperation.

“It could be,” he smiled, turning towards the woman, “We could play Hero and Villain. You try to help her and I,” he paused, already making his way towards her, “will do the opposite.”

[Mads]

Mathias’ smile grew wider - a motion that was as calculated and intentional as any other he’d thus far displayed - but as he turned to face the woman again, it faded in exchange for a curious, thoughtful glint in his eyes. In a brief moment of movement, the woman’s hair shifted as she stumbled again, and beneath the matted locks of her hair was a distinct set of scratches against the pale white of her neck. Only, where there should have been red was instead a dark, almost charcoal green.

“Oh.” He made no further move toward the woman now and remained seated where he was. “Are you certain those roles are not reversed?”

Robin stopped mid-step, taking a closer look at the woman. His eyes fell were Mads’ had, and he saw the veridian stains that colored over the black of the hair. “Oh,” he echoed disappointedly, “I guess then I’ll try to keep you from killing her? I can guide her back to the city even.”

Even before he’d finished speaking, Robin could feel that same pressure around his ankles once more. Only this time, he felt the bindings around his wrists as well - felt, not saw. What was more, the elements around him began to grow quieter, distant. Mathias remained where he was, curiously watching him, as the woman continued to approach, eyes pleading, breath panting.

“Ele sabe o que você é, criatura.” Quiet and unassuming, he addressed the woman directly.

She paused for a half trill, wide eyes seeming to process, before she lunged.

The wind reacted first -- out of all the elements, it was the fastest learner. It felt Mads squeeze it from the air for his spells, bullied away by his magic; and it didn’t like it. It spilled into the spaces between Robin’s skin and the shields and it pushed. It ripped away at the foreign spell, demanding more and more ether from Robin -- which he gave, generously.

And then they broke and Robin was free.

Mathias stared, blank faced - smile gone and replaced with nothing. His fingers twitched, and there was a distance in his eyes that suggested he was deep in thought, but the woman was already upon him. The shackles had served their purpose.

And then the wind roared. It ripped past Robin, blustering into the woman -- the enemy -- until Robin screamed, “NO”. The earth collapsed beneath where the changeling would fall, breaking into stairs leading out towards an alley -- because that was the game. Keep the creature alive, to feed on Quacia. “Go for him,” and he pointed at Mads.

Only, she didn’t fall. She sort of hung in the air, body folded over at the waist before she slumped down onto the slight shimmer of the air over the newly formed stairs. It took a matter of trills before she was back on her feet, charging forward, eyes set upon Robin.

He spilled ether into the earth like the locals spilled their blood; fine, he re-considered, as he pushed the earth towards the woman, stone and dirt and dust breaking into a wave as it moved to block her. It rose around Robin, an almost-living fortress, shepherding her away and towards the general populace. “Are they all this fucking stupid?” He yelled as softened the earth around the plaza into sand.

[Mads]

“The better term might be ‘single-minded’, though I cannot speak for the ones I have yet to encounter.” Mathias rose to his feet as the stone shifted at the behest of Robin’s will. The spell’s scope was massive, and though it caused him no immediate issues, the air around him found his presence shrouded - layer after layer obscuring him.

The woman - the creature - turned to face Mathias as she regained her balance, wasting no time in switching targets as her toes dug into the pale sand that now filled the once stony courtyard. Her cry was no longer panicked - it was fierce and threatening; she was a predator assuming her prey.

Once more the wind found itself trapped, ether pressing it forward to wrap itself around the woman’s legs, tripping her, binding her into place, face down and screeching into the sand, all while Mathias calmly approached, carefully picking his way as he traversed the shifting sands.

And again, the wind and earth danced. The sands shot towards Mads like an angry hornet’s nest, spiralling between the mage and the changeling.

He didn’t flinch as he stepped through, sand buffeting against his carefully constructed ether, wearing away the top layer of his armour until it finally shattered - only to explode in a wave of force.

Robin swore as the earth pulled him under, holding him safe from the world. He felt the explosion for only a trill until he was covered with sand and dark and seething in his own rage. He’d lost the question game and that stupid plant had probably died in whatever Mads had done.

He was pissed.

“That was a cheapshot,” he said, his tone sour, as he resurfaced, his connection with the elements no longer muffled - a clear indication that Mads no longer considered their little game ended -, “but I guess you won. Both games.”

“It was actually quite expensive.” Mathias corrected, removing the heel of his boot from the crushed remains of the changling’s mashed head that stained the sands beneath a dark emerald.

Robin crossed his arms and let out a long breath, “Good. I hope it fucking hurt,” he looked at the dead woman, her skull mashed like a potato. “So. Blood and what else?”

“Blood first.” Mathias pulled a small, sharp blade from his belt. There was nothing impressive about it - in fact, it was familiar in that he’d seen similar knives in the hands of the people everywhere he looked. “I will tell you when to stop.” His smile curved playfully as he tossed the knife.

Robin smiled back, but there was nothing soft in his features as the wind dropped the knife into his outstretched hand.

“And in the spirit of good sportsmanship,” he added, a chuckle that was deliberately placed into his otherwise casual tone, “I will not require you kill yourself.”

“Fair,” he said as he sliced into his forearm. His blood trickled into earth and steamed where it hit. A small part of him was surprised there was any blood left to give. He was expecting sand. Instead he got bright, neon red. It cooled to a nice obsidian where it fell.

If the lava surprised him, it was lost in the light of his bright eyes as Mathias watched the sand bend and twist and melt into itself, almost writing in… pain? pleasure? as the blood continued to fall.

“Do you like watching?”

[Mads]

Mathias’ head tilted, tone void of anything but a carefully practiced rise in question. “Would you prefer I do or do not?”

“I kind of like that you’re watching.”

“I see.”

And so there they stood, as trills passed into bits, and watched each other.

Eventually Mathias raised a hand and nodded. “Not what I expected, but I suppose that is you in… what is the phrase? ‘In the shell of a nut’?”

“Close enough,” Robin tossed the knife back towards Mathias. The blade had been warped by the heat - it was now merely a useless scrap of bone and metal. He rubbed sand over the wound as it cooled black over his skin. “So what else are you asking for?”

Eyes set on the airborn blade, Mathias plucked it out of the air. “Surprise me.” His bright gaze settled back onto Robin’s as he ran a finger along the dulled, melted metal of the once sharp ceremonial knife. “Something good,” he added, brow raised. “And nothing related to your… heathen gods.” If there was disdain there, it was well concealed, but Robin was beginning to wonder if Mads really even had opinions in the first place.

“I’ll just offer what I originally-”

“Did I ask for what you offered before?”

“But from me. You’d get a single favor, no questions asked, any time, any place.”

“And in what way is that surprising?” There was no challenge there, just a calm request for clarification.

“It isn’t,” he shrugged, “But you’ll never hear me promising to be creative enough to be surprising.”

Mathias blinked three times in rapid succession before he nodded once. “Very well, then I use my favor to command you: surprise me.” Simply stated, eyes bright, and mouth grinning in a deliberate half moon, he looked quite pleased with himself. Or so Robin imagined.

“Fine,” Robin waltzed his way towards Mads, hands up. His lips twisted into a cocky grin. The earth hardened under his feet to snow-white marble that shone with delicate crystal.

And he kissed Mads on his cheek. He thought, when his lips touched his skin, how cold his skin was. It was like stone. Mads, the statue.

There was a firm pressure on his chest and Robin found himself politely shoved away. Nothing about Mads’ expression had changed; his smile was still steady, eyes still bright. “Find me when you are ready to give me what it is I asked for, Robin.” He turned, waving a hand over his shoulder as he headed toward the fallen column that marked the pathway they’d entered the courtyard from before. “Until then.”

[Oracle]

This was a rather interesting read. I was fascinated with the relationship between Robin and Mads. It's a bit on the twisted side, but that isn't terribly surprising given that you are both two rather unique mages in Quacia. The writing was very well done, although at times it was a touch difficult to gauge who exactly was speaking since you used a combined format to post. Perhaps in the future, try and add a couple more indicators to help signify who is speaking. Both of you have an excellent command of writing magic. You used various techniques in inventive ways that fueled the narrative. A great job all round, well done.

Robin

Points

15xp This may not be used for domain magic.

Renown

+10 for staging a fight out in the open.

Rewards and Consequences

N/A

Injuries

N/A

Knowledges

Discipline: Minding your tongue
Intelligence: Question Game
Intelligence: Heroes and Villains
Tactics: Watching an Opponent Fight
Tactics: Abrogation's muting
Acrobatics: Jumping Back
Acrobatics: Walking on Sand
Acrobatics: Using the Earth to Dodge

Mads

Points

15xp This may be used for Master Abrogation Magic

Renown

+10 for staging a fight out in the open.

Rewards and Consequences

N/A

Injuries

N/A

Knowledges

Abrogation: shackles have difficulty with air defiers
Abrogation: shields as platforms
Abrogation: backlash added to replicated armour is an effective omnidirectional counter-defense
Acrobatics: keeping one’s balance while walking through sand
Acrobatics: maintaining one’s balance while being buffeted by a sandstorm
Unarmed Combat: smashing a skull with the heel of one’s boot
Unarmed Combat: shackled opponents are easier to attack
Unarmed Combat: without magical assistance fists and feet are ineffective weapons against defiance