Path of the Vampire forum

Posted: **03 Oct 2017, 19:41**

As the crowd began to gather around, finally drawn to the scene, she closed her eyes. She could hear every word, see the look of utter pity and despair written across their faces. It made her want to lash out, to demand that they leave her alone to drown within her downward spiral, she didn’t. Instead, she lifted her hand, fingers pressing gently to Robin’s jaw so she could anchor his stare on her. While, in truth, it didn’t truly matter – he had already proven that he couldn’t see – no one else knew that. His attention had been so focused on a stacked redhead that the man at her side had angled his body towards them, meaty fingers clenching into loose fists. There was a warning on the tip of his tongue, one that never had a chance to be delivered before the blonde turned, a single glare cast in his direction.

It was enough to cause the human to shake his head, his heavy arm draping around his woman’s shoulders. When she was certain there wasn’t going to be a brawl, she brushed a hand through her hair and stepped away from the man, just as his hand reached for her. Ignoring the spark that jumped across her skin at his touch, she lifted her hand and rested it on his, a brow rising. “I can call you whatever I please,” she teased, a bit of laughter to her voice, despite the stress. “Aside from that, what I don’t want to call you Robin? What do you suggest, then?” It seemed that, even though her world had fallen apart, she found a way to claw herself out of the darkness. Stepping closer to him as he began to growl frantic, she shook her head.

There was something about his tangent that was supposed to mean something to her, something that, had she not been burdened with stress and still scenting the smoke of her failure, she would have caught onto. As it stood, however, she couldn’t bring herself to pick apart and analyze every single word that he threw at her in the few seconds that past. Shaking her head, she reached both hands up to rest once more against his chest, fingers twisting his cotton t-shirt around until she had him steadied. “That was a lot to take it at once,” she muttered, lips pursed for a moment as she tried to process what she could. It seemed that, for the moment, his concern had been on finding a kinship with her, something that he thought she was suffering, and something that he wanted to share the burden of – and it was something she couldn’t help him with.

“No, nothing like that. We will get back to that, though. You know, when I haven’t just lost everything I have ever owned and my arm isn’t scorched.”

Pushing him back a step – and leading them from the crowd – she dropped one hand to interlock their fingers together. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything – she didn’t know if he still had a girlfriend, after all – she tried to ignore the sudden shock once again, even as her mind raced to figure out what it meant. “I just meant that I have enemies. I didn’t before Mr. Wright died, but someone isn’t entirely pleased that he left everything to me. I wasn’t family. Hell, he only knew me a few weeks, but he left everything to me. We see how well that worked out,” she sighed.

After a few steps, she came to a stop, her back to the crowd as she dropped her hand completely and ran them both through her hair, causing the golden mess to fall around her shoulders in tangles. “I was trying to get us out of here, but I don’t know where you’re headed. I can help you get there, if you’d like. You don’t have to stay with me. I’m sure you’re needed home,” she said, voice distant as her mind worked to clear itself. The truth of the matter was she didn’t want to be alone – but she also had no claim to the man at his side -or his time.

Posted: **12 Oct 2017, 14:21**

Robin no doubt looked like a comical fish, mouth opening and closing with things he wanted to say before deciding against it, or being interrupted. At first his mouth opened and closed because he had no idea how to respond. First names had a purpose. They were what people called each other. If Vexen didn’t want to call Robin by his first name, then what else could she call him…? Was this … was she flirting? With a bookstore she had inherited burning down behind them (beside them?) was she flirting with him?!

And then she brought home a heavy truth. Flirting or not, her shop was burning down and Robin was too concerned trying to figure out whether Vexen suffered the same kind of bad luck as he did. Sure, he could lie to himself and say he needed to know so that he might be able to help her. But how could he help her when he could barely help himself? No, not even barely. He couldn’t help himself at all.

Their fingers interlocked and Robin was glad to move away from the noise, from the threatening heat. Vexen suggested that she help him home, but surely she was needed here? The authorities would have questions. Robin just wanted to get away from the flames, away from immediate dangers.

”Home? No. Why would I…?” he asked, distractedly. He shook his head. It wasn’t common knowledge that he’d walked away from Maddison; he believed she was better off without him, without his constant bad luck, his injuries, his current disability. He wouldn’t be a burden to her; she could have someone who could attend to her every whim rather than cause her any inconvenience. It was easier than it should have been, though knowing his luck he would run into her somewhere (without knowing, because he wouldn’t see her coming) and she’d rip his intestines out.

And anyway, he’d already been lightly scolded. He wouldn’t launch into an explanation as to why he wouldn’t be wanted at home (as there was no one there to greet him). Instead, a frown rested between his unseeing eyes and he attempted to focus on the issue at hand.

Fire.

”Enemies. You think they actually want you to die or did they just want to burn down the thing you inherited that they wanted? Did they even want it? Seems like they can’t have been very good family if he didn’t want to leave them anything…” he said. ”I’ll be okay,” he lied. ”You’re probably needed here, right? You’ll need to ah… talk to the police. I can wait? I’ll see if I can get a hold of Samuel. And there’s… did an ambulance come, too? We should find a paramedic and see if they have a ah… something for your arm…” he said. There was nothing else he could do for it. He felt utterly and hopelessly useless.

Posted: **21 Oct 2017, 06:23**

The look that morphed his features at her attempt to flirt had her chuckling, though the sound soon died off as the sirens grew closer. She knew she should turn around, head back into the gathered crowd, and speak to the uniforms that had appeared – but she couldn’t. She didn’t even know where to begin. They would have questions, so many questions, and she didn’t want to answer any of them. What could she say? She had no true idea into what had happened, only her belief that it had been anything but an accident. So, when the man offered, she slowly shook her head, though soon remembered he couldn’t see the action. Dropping her shoulders, she released a quiet, strained sigh and closed her eyes.

“Why wouldn’t you? Home is usually where people find comfort,” she heard herself speak, though there was darkness to her usual jubilant voice. Her hope was quickly fading, her need to remain positive fading as she lifted her fingers and pressed them to her eyes. They still stung from the smoke, but she would be a liar if she tried to say she didn’t feel like sobbing. The pain in her throat was evident enough, and yet, she swallowed past it as she kept her back to the blacked sky. Curling her fingers into loose fists, she pressed them against the side of her skull and groaned. She wanted to drink, she needed to drown her sorrow in alcohol and numb her senses – but she couldn’t. It had stopped be an option the night she died, and now she was forced to accept what had happened.

When he began to speak again, his questions dedicated to her predicament, she forced herself to relax. Her hands fell back to her sides, though they ached to touch him, to feel a connection of any kind. Using the excuse that she was afraid he would waltz into traffic, she reached out and curled her hand around his bicep, her touch light as she once again shook her head. This time, however, she also spoke. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he had family,” she admitted, her voice a hushed whisper as she struggled to keep the panic at bay. “His lawyer accused me of sleeping with him, of using my looks and seducing my way into a ‘helpless old man’s’ bed. His kids accused me of the same thing, and his son even went as far as to have me followed to prove it.”

Saying it out loud, admitting what she had endured the past few months, should have relieved her. Instead, it only saddened her, to think of her connection with Mr. Wright as being tarnished by their greed. Realizing that this man at her side hardly knew her, she quickly continued. “I didn’t, you know. I didn’t use him. I didn’t even want to take his offer at first, but I had no-where else to go, and he knew that. He offered me a way to make money so I could live on my own. That was all.” She didn’t expect him to believe her – she knew what it had looked like from the outside. She never thought herself beautiful; her face was too chubby, his eyes too bright, body too soft. It hadn’t mattered, though, when the lawyer had first laid eyes on her. All he had noticed was a blonde haired, blue eyed, young woman that had suddenly come into an inheritance that she had no real claim to.

When she lifted her arm, the skin of her arm tightening, reminding her of his concern – and the burn – she grit her teeth. It was already started to heal, but she knew it would be slow going. Not wanting him to worry about it, she laughed it off, and ran her tongue along her teeth. “My arm will be okay. It will heal, remember? We’re vampires,” she teased, before wincing. Clearly, their immortality didn’t heal everything. Just shut up, Vexen, just shut up. You’ve ruined enough tonight.

Clearing her throat once more, she tucked a curl behind her ear and slid her hand across his back, so her arm was around his waist. It looked less suspicious, she told herself. “If I’m not taking you home, then where am I taking you? I don’t want to keep you out too long. Your girlfriend didn’t seem to like you in my presence for a second. I’d hate to know what she’d say about this.”

Posted: **29 Oct 2017, 14:25**

For as long as Robin had lived in Harper Rock – as sporadic as it was – he’d visited Mr Wright’s shop. At first it was just his local bookshop, the one he’d gone to as a kid growing up. Then it became his favourite bookshop – the one he went to even though he’d moved out of the suburb. It was the one he returned to after his stint at the commune with the girlfriend whose name he now couldn’t be sure of. The commune where he’d met Lorelai, the peace-loving hippie who’d eventually turn him. That had been his mistake, too. He’d pushed her to feed from him. She’d taken too much. Maybe all his bad luck now stemmed from that one bad step.

It took Robin a few seconds to let it sink in. The bookshop he’d loved, the one he’d often used as a haven, a sanctuary, was now burning to the ground. They were the words he wouldn’t voice, because he knew now that Vexen would not appreciate them. It was the continued certainty that this was his fault. That bookshop meant a lot to him, too. His body sagged beneath the weight of the realisation, and he shook his head. At least now when he stared into the distance, it wasn’t at someone he might offend. It was directed at the ground.

”I knew Mister Wright. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid – I remember his wife and how sad it was when she died. I might not know you, but I knew him. He was generous and kind and I believe that he would do what he did for no other reason but because he thought it was the right thing to do,” he said. It sounded too much like a eulogy, and the frown etched itself neatly between Robin’s eyes. He took a sharp breath and rolled his shoulders.

”I came out to see you. Well, the bookshop, but I knew you worked here. I left home for the night to y’know, get away from home, not to go straight back to it. I’m not a toddler who’s wandered off and needs to be returned to his keeper,” he said. The way he said it was neither angry nor bitter, it was just resigned, almost as if he didn’t believe his own words. Maybe he was just a hopeless case; someone too clumsy to be left alone, who should be returned to their rightful place and left there. ”We’re not together anymore,” he said in regards to her comment about his girlfriend. ”I live alone,” he added. Well, Samuel slept on the couch most of the time, but he didn’t technically live there. Robin only wished he didn’t need the poor kid so much.

”There’s ice there. And ah… first aid things,” he offered. He got himself into enough trouble that, vampire or not, healing or not, he still needed tending to. Vexen didn’t seem too keen on sticking around to talk to the authorities, though if he were her he’d want to fight tooth and nail for that shop. ”Rebuild you. And then rebuild that shop…” he pondered, thinking out loud.

Posted: **19 Nov 2017, 05:35**

Rebuild you.

Was that possible?

Her entire world had come crashing down at her feet, and the thought of being rebuilt, of rising from the ashes like a phoenix… frightened her. What if she messed up again? What if everything she touched was destined to be ruined? This wasn’t her life, this wasn’t what she had asked for, and yet… as he spoke of Mister Wright, a reverence to his voice that she hadn’t heard before, she began to calm. He had been a man that knew what he wanted. She couldn’t remember a time that he had ever faltered on an idea, or retreated on a plan. The moment he had made up his mind, he never changed it.

He had witnessed something within her from the moment he had met her.

She remembered that night with a perfect clarity. It was one of the few that she could pull to the forefront of her mind, and as she slowly released her grip from Robin’s bicep, she smiled. It was weak, but it was genuine, and she slowly shook her head. “You’re right,” her voice was soft as she pressed her fingers through her hair, the golden tendrils catching around her knuckles. She wasn’t one to care about her appearance, and so while others might have lost their mind due to the few knots that twisted throughout their curls, she merely gave a sharp pull. Once her fingers were through the worse of the tangles, she dropped her hand and began to absently toy with the ruined cloth of her sweatshirt.

“He took me in when I had no-where else to go. I was a mess that night, too. Bleeding, bruised, and soaked to the bone. I was afraid of him at first,” the London native chuckled, her voice as rich as chocolate. “A young blonde all alone in a strange new world seemed like the beginning of a rather graphic horror, especially when the wiry old man appeared. He was nothing but charm and grace, however. He took his time in cleaning me up and ensuring that I was taken care of.” With a slow shake of her head, she allowed her gaze to travel towards the blackened sky, where the fire was slowly starting to die down due to the heroic efforts of the brigade.

She knew she should go back there, yet she couldn’t will her feet to move. Even as she watched the last of the boards collapse to the ground, the final piece of history erased from the world, she was frozen. What would she say? How would she even begin to explain what would happen? There would be reports, questions, and accusing glares. Already, she could feel the panic grip her throat, silencing her before she even had a chance to begin. No, she wasn’t ready. She couldn’t handle it. Instead, she allowed herself to pick apart the rest of his sentence, her brow arching as he spoke of his separation. She had always thought the woman had been all wrong for him. She had been too poised, too possessive, too perfect. In Vexen’s eyes, she had been a demon in Chanel, and she hated the thought of him with her. She had told herself more than once it was because she had wanted him happy – that it had nothing to do with her own unrequited attraction, but she had been a fool.

Forcing the thought from her mind, she once more reached for him, fingers slipping to slip between his. “I never said you were a toddler, Mister Little. If you do not wish to return home, we can go somewhere else. I just want to go anywhere but here. Just tell me where to go, and I’ll get us there.”

Posted: **08 Dec 2017, 11:21**

”You choose,” he said. What did home look like? Was it even clean? What might he have dropped or spilled and been unable to clean up? Would Samuel have cleaned it up for him? Probably not, if not asked. And Robin would have forgotten to ask. No, best not to tell Vexen to take him home until he knew that home was fit for guests. Even if he was beginning to think that staying home was a better option, given the bad luck that followed him around.

”Though I apologise in advance for anything untoward that might happen. You’d be better off in the company of a wiry old man, I think,” Robin muttered. ”Maybe if you keep me distracted, nothing bad will happen. Tell me the story of how you ended up bloody, bruised, and soaked to the bone that night? If it’s not too personal. Or too hard,” he asked.

Robin honestly did not mind where they went or how they got there; he did find it a little strange that Vexen would not stay to deal with her affairs, but he could not know her. He couldn’t know what she was feeling, nor who she was underneath everything else. Truth was, beyond a few book recommendations and some small talk over the bookshop’s counter, Robin barely knew Vexen at all. He’d come out in order to check in with her, to perhaps initiate a situation whereby he might get to know her. It hadn’t come to fruition as he had expected, but here they were. She was physically fine, if a little shaken, as was he.

They could leave, for now, and perhaps later, once he knew her a little better, he might be able to properly persuade her to come back to the shop. He could help her, if she required it. Support her, really. He’d started his own businesses and knew how to go about things, though it had taken some time and plenty of headaches. The law had something to do with Vexen’s situation, and Robin didn’t have a head for law. But, he could do his best.

Posted: **17 Dec 2017, 03:50**

“My place it is, then,” she spoke, the words falling free before she could think it through. By the time they had been breathed into the chilled air, she found herself unable to pull them back, to pretend that she hadn’t spoken them. Why had she offered her place as their venue for the evening? It was more than likely a wreck, and she couldn’t trust that Kingsley hadn’t completely destroyed any of the thousand magazines she had left strewn across the hardwood. With a quiet sound of frustration, she lifted her fingers to tap her nails against her lower lip, the bitter taste of her blood causing her gaze to snap down to the offending digits, where a few nails had broken in the excitement.

Uncurling her fingers, she pulled her hand out in front of her face, eyes zeroing in on a single splinter that had embedded itself in the pad of her thumb. The sliver of wood, though small, seemed to cause pain to blossom through her hand the moment that she decided to take notice of it, and before she knew what she was doing, she was lifting her hand to her mouth in a feeble attempt to dig it out with her teeth. “Just, ignore the mess, I guess. I’m sure there’s a place to sit. I’ve been out of mind lately, I haven’t had time to clean… do you mind dogs?” Her voice was as soft as the wind that tossed her golden curls about her face as her gaze snapped to his features, lips twisting into a wince. He’s blind, Vexen. I doubt he cares much about the state of your home…

With that memory in the forefront of her mind, she pulled her thumb from her teeth, only to wrap her hand around his bicep once more. “It’s not far, Mister Little. It shouldn’t take us more than a few minutes,” she chimed, this time, adding a smile to her voice to hide the panic that had flared to life within the pit of her stomach. She was taking a virtual stranger home, and though it was something that she would do, for some reason – it worried her. Just a few minutes ago, she had thought that he was had a woman to call his home, someone that was waiting for him – and though he said that wasn’t the case, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was crossing some sort of invisible line. She lived her life on the edge, one reckless adventure after the next, but at the mere thought of allowing a man to step foot into her apartment left her reeling. Attempting t shake herself free, she focused on his question, her eyes glazing over as she found herself searching for that night.

“It’s nothing so horrific that it cannot be shared. I hadn’t been in the city long, and I definitely hadn’t heard of the horrors that lurked around the corners. Vampires, to me, merely existed in the books that I buried myself in. Imagine my surprise when, one night, I found myself having to face one! He was large, and I suppose, feral. He wouldn’t listen to my pleas, and instead, attacked me. At first, I convinced myself that it had been nothing more than a mugging. Yet, he didn’t reach for my iPod. Instead, he slammed me against the ground and started clawing at me, snapping at my neck. If it hadn’t been for a passerby, I’m certain he would have killed me. He left me in a rather… awful… state, as it were. I didn’t want to go to the hospital, because I hadn’t a clue what to tell them!” Taking a break in her story – the woman was rather animated when regaling the man with her tale – she pulled him across the street, only to have the blare of a car horn cause her to jump. The driver had been a few feet off, but it seemed that hadn’t been comfortable enough for him. When he tossed his middle finger in the air, the blonde simply rolled her eyes and helped Robin onto the sidewalk.

“Anyway, I was in a worse state than I imagined. He had ripped my chest and stomach, and my face was bruised from the force that he had grasped me with. Afraid he would come for me again, I stumbled into the nearest building – and found Mister Wright. He convinced me, at the time, that it had to have been a man on drugs, and someone that wanted my… body… not my blood. I believed him. It was far more easier to accept than vampires were real.” Lifting her shoulder in a shrug, she frowned when she reached for her keys – only to realize that she didn’t have them on her. Without missing a beat, she reached behind the metal box that rested by the door, and quickly pulled a single key free so she could unlock the door.

Posted: **01 Jan 2018, 12:54**

Although Robin was completely unaware of Vexen’s thoughts, his ran along the exact same path. Mess? What the **** did he care? He couldn’t see it. Though he didn’t mention it. If it was that messy he could of course trip over the obstacles that normally might not be there. All she’d have to do, however, was tell him to wait by the door while she cleared a path. To think that she might have to ‘clear a path’, however – how messy could she really be?

In the end it didn’t matter to Robin, and wouldn’t matter even if he could have seen it. Had she ever stumbled into a place where he resided she’d have been greeted with the mess of a bachelor who didn’t have his **** together. There were two types of bachelors in the world, weren’t there? There were the type who were well groomed, who had money, who went out in suits and treated women well, even if they never did settle down. The kind with apartments of minimalist design (probably because they were rarely there) with muted colour schemes and huge canvases of modern art upon their walls; or posters of classy semi-clad women, or of pouting lips.

Then there was the other type of bachelor; the type who was a bachelor because he was a slob, because he’d given up on ever finding a woman. The kind of bachelor who didn’t only have women on his mind, but perhaps the furtherance of his career – trying to get his **** together but failing at every hurdle so he ended up living pay check to pay check, spending the last of his money on new books rather than saving for something important. When he’d lived on his own or with friends he’d used milk crates for furniture; his mattress had been scavenged from a street corner and rested on the floor. It could have been considered bohemian chic. Or it could have just been called a mess; regardless, he didn’t do his washing all too often and his clothes got strewn over the floor. Dirty plates would stack up. Books were on every surface, unread or read a hundred times, some face down with spines cracked, two or three stacked on top of each other.

Becoming a vampire hadn’t really curbed any of these habits, given he was an allurist who could still eat food (though mostly he just ate junk, as it had no effect). Living with Maddison had whipped him into some kind of shape. Becoming blind? Well, he’d quickly learned that if he made a mess he’d never find what he needed, and that mess would often come back to haunt him. He shuddered at the memory of the pizza he’d found, furry with mould and moss. He’d patted it for a good five minutes before he’d realised what it was.

He’d stopped thinking about the mess that may or may not have been found at his own apartment as Vexen started her story; when the car horn blared at them Robin flinched and tensed, waiting for the screech of tires, the impact. But to his surprise, there was none. He swallowed, voice caught in his throat. Vexen continued as if nothing had happened.

”Here I thought you were going to tell me you’d been turned,” he said. It sounded like the kind of story at the end of which one might be turned by some good Samaritan vampire, passing on their way somewhere. Most vampires Robin had met were good, at heart. Though of course the good was never remembered. Always the bad.

He heard the jingling of keys and surmised they must have arrived home.

”You’re lucky you weren’t killed,” he said. He wanted to ask about how she’d been turned, but would it be too personal? Would that be a story she wouldn’t find so easy to tell? ”And – honestly don’t worry if there’s a mess. Any mess I could make would beat yours any day. And I can’t see it to judge it,” he said with a light shrug – he’d wait to be led inside. If there was anything that he could trip over, he’d be bound to trip over it.

Posted: **04 Feb 2018, 04:01**

When the door opened, bringing with it the warmth of the apartment complex, she chuckled. “No, Mister Little, my turning wasn’t… dramatic,” she settled for. In truth, there had been no violence, at least, not in the sense that it would have required hours of therapy. Reaching behind her, she carefully entangled her fingers with his as she pocketed her key. “In about two steps forward, there’s a step. It’s not too tall.” Once the direction was given, she stepped into the complex herself, her tired gaze dancing across his features. He was handsome – but that wasn’t what attracted her to him. It was his mind. In the few conversations they had when he would stop by the store, he had made his intelligence known.

Now, however, was not the time for her to be fawning over a man she couldn’t have. Her entire world was nothing more than ash in the wind, and he was struggling to navigate basic life. Pushing her attraction to the back of her mind, she guided her hand along his arm until one held his hand and the other cupped his elbow in case he misjudged the distance. “My turning, if you’re curious, while gruesome is a rather boring tale. I don’t recall most of it. I was jumping from building to building, challenging myself, trying to beat my record in distance. I misjudged, and fell. If it hadn’t been for the awning slowing my downfall, Prudence would have had nothing to save. As it was, I was a mangled bundle of bleeding flesh and broken bones on the concrete.” She spoke of her near death without so much as a tremor to her voice, though if he could see her eyes, they’d betray her.

It hadn’t been easy, but she had survived. She had fought, and she had come to accept what she had become. She was stronger for it, smarter, faster. The world was hers for the taking. Adventures she never dreamed were laid before her, and she simply had to choose one. Of course, at the moment, any thought of adventure and travel was put on the back burner, though she didn’t mind. She wasn’t alone, she had to remember that. While her livelihood disappeared, she wasn’t alone. Offering him another smile he couldn’t see, she chewed on the inside of her lip as she heard the soft hum of the elevator. “I wouldn’t be so sure on that. My apartment can look like it’d been struck by its own tornado if I let it go too long. However, you didn’t answer the question on dogs. You’re going to run, are you? Dove can be intimidating,” she spoke, her voice serious, despite her fighting to not laugh.

Posted: **13 Feb 2018, 14:18**

There it was again. Mister Little. This time, Robin didn't bother to correct Vexen; the barest hint of the tension of his lips would give away the subtle and very slight discomfort he might feel at being given such a formal title. It wasn't enough to fight it; he could let it go. Although he had not asked about Vexen's siring, he was still curious to know how it had happened; it was almost like that one dirty secret all vampires had, that one story they all had in common even though the variations were numerous and many. Robin had even thought of writing a compilation; every vampire he met he could find out how they were sired, whether willing or not. A short story collection where names were omitted. Would it get him killed if he tried, if he didn't get permission? Would they tell the whole truth if they knew he was considering writing it all down? Wasn't that the point of being a writer? To find inspiration, however one can, and roll with it.

"That's...insane," Robin said, trying to imagine what it might have been like for one's adrenaline thrill to turn into such a nightmare. Honestly, it made him think of Lincoln, and the things he'd wanted Robin to do to try to find him the high he so missed, and craved. "I have a friend you might have a lot in common with. Lincoln King?" she might have heard of him already. It wasn't as if Lincoln kept a low profile. Robin made a mental note to try get in contact with Lincoln. It had been a while, and he might want to be kept in the loop about what was going on in Robin's life. Or maybe he didn't give a ****. It would be nice to catch up regardless.

"I was a blood doll," he said even as Vexen's fingers found his own, her hand trailing along his arm; her touch guiding him as much as her words. It was one thing Robin had come to notice in his blindness. Every other sense heightened, as if to make up for their lost comrade. Touch, especially, had become something new and foreign, but not at all uncomfortable. In fact, it was something Robin craved if only so that it could assure him that the world still existed, that those around him still existed -- that nothing was a figment of his imagination. The blackness sometimes made it feel like the world had blinked out of existence.

"Lorelai -- my sire -- she was my friend first. When we were human, we got to know each other. I ran into her again in Harper Rock and she'd... Well, she'd become a vampire. She had trouble feeding and I kind of... I liked being bitten? I pushed her to try it on me, to use me, to practice on me. It'd been a while for her and I guess she couldn't stop. And I felt no need to stop her, because I was too lost in the high. She took too much. The rest is history," he said. There was nothing wistful in his tone; there was no regret. It was what it was and he considered it entirely his own fault, not Lorelai's. She'd warned him.

"In any case, she's no longer around," he said with far too much pep. "And dogs don't worry me. I once lived with a dog. An actual dog, not a person that acted like one. A retriever? I don't ever know what happened to that dog..." he said. Or to its owner, to be more precise. But that, too, was life. People came and went. It was incumbent upon all to enjoy the time they have while they have it.

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