Appearance || Setting: Thornside Park
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The transition had been smooth for Robin.
Well, smoother than it could have been. Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like to have been turned without any prior knowledge of what one was getting oneself into. If he had had no idea about the existence of vampires—or half the other monsters that inhabited this city—how would have dealt with it? Would he have flipped his lid, or would he have enjoyed the fascination as much as he enjoyed it now?
Lorelai had not had to do much by way of training, as far as Robin was concerned. A former blood doll, he knew what he had to do to survive. He knew that he had to consume blood. And he was enjoying getting to know what it felt like when the shoe was on the other foot. So accustomed was he to having his blood taken from him, he wondered whether he would miss the sensation or whether it would be replaced with a new one. His friend and sire didn’t like taking blood from the vein. But she had sensibilities that Robin lacked, and he knew it could be done. He knew it could be done without killing anyone, too. Poor Lorelai. He had had her convinced that she could take from him without killing him, but it had not quite transpired that way.
But he would not, could not hold it against her. He had wanted this, hadn’t he? He had just lacked the courage to take the next step. Lorelai had forced his hand.
Whatever the case, Robin rolled with the punches, and shuffled on through life with his usual lazy zest. He was still getting used to the enhanced senses, so when he stumbled across the small celebration in one of the parks, he could not help but wander in. Someone had constructed one of those horse carousels, meant entirely for small people. There were stalls, too—maybe it was some kind of community fete? He could smell things that were deep fried. Someone was selling candy apples. A couple of girls ran past with ribbons trailing behind them. In one corner of the park a band played. Robin was at the other end, however.
He had wandered through, revelling in the sights, scents, and sounds. One stall selling soap. Another selling wind-up musical toys. Another selling puppets. Another selling fresh fruit. Robin bought an orange, bigger than he had ever seen. Near the edge of the fete he found a lone pagoda. Nearby was a van, its side lined with clown heads, slowly moving back and forth with their mouths wide open. From inside, a radio played. One of the local stations. Robin could hear it from where he sat, slowly peeling his orange.
The citrus scent burst into the air and he breathed in, deep. They had discovered what path he fell on. Allurist. Apparently he could eat real food. And his mouth watered for this orange. This would be the first time he tried.
