Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Stoner Witch Robin ❯ Inwhich some Long Words are Spoken ( Chapter 4 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
In which Long words are spoken
Robin stared blankly at Amon, 40 thousand angery questions had just been thrown at her. Starting with 'When did you become such a stoner?' and ending with 'What the hell was with the old lady thing at the door?'. Not to mention accusations of her ending up in Mephisto's bed after an all night binge. Her eyes were wide, her mouth only slightly ajar.
"Because, hey, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition..." She almost erupted into sobs of laughter as the comment escaped her lips without without the OK from her brain. Managing control over riotous laughter, she only shook her head. That was not what Amon had wanted to hear, and he obviously didn't get the reference. Or at least if he did, he didn't find it at all amusing.
"No, Mephisto's way too old...even for me." She said, rolling her eyes at herself, and starting dining with her back to the angry young man behind her. Silently wondering to herself if he even knew what he was angry at...she certainly didn't. "I started toking when I was in Itally. I started toking HEAVILY when I got here. You've spent sometime alone with Meph, you can imagine being his only company for a few years." She got to chopping veggies. "I think he's looking for his children...what's left of them. If there are any." She shook her head, adding the veggies to the boiling beef broth. "I don't know who would know to be after that car, I've never used it, and Meph doesn't drive...he just sorta gets-"
"High, and wanders off." His voice was sharp, he was not liking her answers or as calmly as she was giving them. "The old lady thing?" At this she turned around and looked at him. As if deciding something.
"You remember, years ago, when we encountered the Methusela in walled city?" At his nod, she continued, "I told you then that she knew Time." He nodded, not comperhending. She sighed. "Time is a dimension, a twist to the fabric of reality. It is not a solid construct, just a twist." She saw he still did not understand, Her figure aged, her face lined with smiles and tears. "Old Robin." She said, he only blinked, still not getting it. Her figure shifted to the old woman from earlier. "Really Old Robin." He was still just staring at her. She gave up and threw her arms wide and became as frail and leather thin as a mummy from egypt. "DEAD ROBIN!" She shouted, just as Amon's mouth began to gape, she was back to being young and lovely. "I can twist the time around me, or just me, to suit what is needed...but I do not age." She explained, and took another hit. Offering the last half of the joint to him. This time he took it. Taking a toke, something dawned on him and he was standing before her. His eyes narrowing, that's how she'd slipped through his fingers! He'd been looking for his green eyed, young, beauty. Not a woman who could be any age, any time.
"I've seen you a dozen times and you never..." He began shaking, the roach falling to the floor as he grabbed her shoulders and raised to her toes in his iron grip. He wanted to shake her, or strike her, but the look in her eyes stayed both actions. Compassion and sorrow. And something else, something deeper than that. He was frozen in place, a knot in his throat began to mimic the permenant one in his gut.
"Why is Robin dead?" A warm, humored voice came behind them. "Is it dinner time yet? I'm starving. Young man, put your young Lady down, so we can all eat." Amon didn't move, the way Mephisto kept reffering to himself as Robin's and Robin as his own was beging to wear. Hadn't she already proved that not only was she her own, that she also wanted nothing to do with him? She was the one who left, after all. Dropping her, he stormed out of the room. Murmering something about not knowing why he was even there. He was half way out the door when he heard a choked sob from the room he had left behind.
Anger, and something dark with in him made him enjoy that sound. It was so familiar with the ones he'd made since she left. He heard the door swing shut as he stormed through the garden. Mists ebbed and faded, swirled around his feet. But no matter where his feet took him, he couldn't leave the garden he'd marched into.
"You never will at this rate." Mephisto's voice was clear, unfogged with the forgetfullness of age, answering Amon's unspoken question."
________________________
Robin finished making the hearty beef stew, sourdough bread and all, with tears streaming from her face. Perhaps she desevred this, she thought. She had left him, without notice or word. She sniffed, turned off the heat, and headed to her room. Careful to take an ample amount of stash with her from the freezer.
Getting to her private room, she headed straight for the tub for a long soak. She would be fine without him. She told herself, like she had for the past years...how long had it been really? Slipping into the scalding water she sighed, she hadn't stopped crying since she'd met that sad couple. So long ago and far away. Under the eyes of apathy, she had been able to look away as inocent people got hurt. Until them, and the loss of their daughter. She couldn't remember their names, but their faces were burned into her memory. As surely as the image of the pickled people floating in shimmering green space. The veil lifted from her eyes, and she vowed 'No more', when they too followed in the disappearing act.
She took a hit from the large bong resting on her flat stomach half way in the water. Her eyes crossed as she tried not to caugh. The Factory had gone down, just as she had secretly promised herself. It's mysteries revealed to her, and a few others. So far, of course, in vain. Solomon was jealous of it's mistakes, and even more so of the ones that involve out and out genocide.
Poor Amon. They both had been so racked with guilt and stress, he had flung himself at her. Sobbing first into her breast, then was pushed from touching her. She had spent many a long night and day huddled in a corner, staring at a wall, or sobbing uncontollably in a near fetal possition when he got too close. He had done what he could, putting her in bed when she had fallen asleep. Unable to touch her when she was awake for fear of setting off what ever was triggering her. She sighed and took another hit. She'd wanted to curl in his arms and be safe, possibly feel the comforts of love. But all she could think at the time was his gun in her face, and his cold voice telling her that she was a witch, not a human. That she didn't decerve the life she had been given. How could he love her anyway? She wasn't a natural born person...someone's science project.
She put the bong on the floor well with in reach, and rolled over in the tub. Trying to wash the pain of memory from her eyes. Then one day, she was out and getting food. The first time she'd left the safety of hole he'd hid her. She tripped over a leg, a leg that happened to belong to a man smoking weed. The familiar scent, turned into a familiar flavor. The familiar flavor turned into a conversation that turned into laughter. Something that had been foreign to her since her arrival in Japan. Then she realized she was lost. She had tried in vain to get back to where she'd come from, but found it impossible.
The man recommended that she wait for Amon to find her, since she couldn't remember how to get back to where she'd come from. He'd wait with her, until she was found. Amon never came. For a long time they sat there, eating what she had gotten from the open market, smoking the heavy flowers that Mephisto stored in his jacket. A long while past, and she decided to go with him to his home. It was better than waiting in the cold, and apparently, much to Mephisto's surprise, he had one to go too.
Robin had wondered in and out of awarness to time. Studying craft, cooking and cleaning, and looking after Mephisto. He'd dissappear for long periods of time sometimes, others he'd just sit in the garden. Staring longingly at the monument in front of him. The names of lovers and children through the ages carved in a large block of quartz, surrounded by blood red clamatis. Not all of his children had been laid to rest there, he said. He'd lost track of a few, a few he'd never been able to meet. But one by one, he'd find them, and add their names to their brothers and sisters. Robin had found this all too sad, and found herself in prayer there everyday since learning such. Always praying that lost family be found, not only by Mephisto, but by everyone who was looking. Praying that Amon would find her.
She sat up, grabbed the bong, and took a deep hit. She climbed out of the tub, released the water and went to bed. He'd found her and she had been known what to do with herself. It was true that she knew how he veiwed himself. It was true that she couldn't save him from it. It was also true that he was the first, and so far the only person who could touch her so deeply. She couldn't help him, because she couldn't help herself.
She set the bong down, and climbed into bed. For the first time in a long time, she wished she wouldn't wake from her sleep. She didn't want to die, she just didn't want to wake up from the dreams in which everything was all right. That Amon was smiling, that Mephisto was fullfilled, that people were left to be as they were without fear. The tears were still streaming as sleep took hold of her, and she found her peace.
_________________________-
As Mehisto spoke, Amon's foot hit something solid. In the dark, amid the shadow of flowering five point stars, was a glowing platform. Names had been etched into it's surface. Some of which he could read, most of which he could not.
"What is this?" Amon breathed, the quartz was glowing in the moonlight, full and round, like it's steller twin.
"The names of my children, and thier mothers." Mephisto sat on a bench, shadowed by the flowers. "All that have left this world, that I could find anyway."
"She waited for you...she couldn't find her way back to you....you didn't need to make her cry." Mephisto's arms were folded, his eyes though were sad, and thoughtfull.
"She told me she couldn't watch me tear myself apart. That's why she left me." He hissed back.
"NO, that's why she couldn't find her way back to you." The corner of the ancient's mouth twitched. "She left your house to fetch food. Food that I ate while we waited. We sat in an ally for three days waiting. I finally remembered I lived here, and brought her back." He lowered his head, stairing at the glowing platform. "I couldn't leave her to wander alone...not a gentle person like her." Amon sat down on it. Folding his legs in front of him. So she hadn't even meant to leave him.
"Then why did she never recognize me?" He eyed the elder, this lucid state surely would not last long. "Every time I saw her in her older forms....I didn't even know she could do that...." Now he was talking to himself, a habit he'd picked up the past few years.
"Everything has a price." The ancient sighed. "With age, comes forgetfullness of youth's joys, and sadness. If you spend too much time in timeless space, eventually, you forget the things that hurt." The dreaminess slipped back into Mephisto's voice, and Amon knew he's moment of clarity was gone. "It's cold out here...I am hungry. Where is My Lady?" The elder stood and started toward the house. "She usually has dinner ready by now...." Amon sighed heavily, and began to follow the strange person into the house.
His foot paused over something on the dais. Something in the shimmering light caught his attention. He froze as recognition took hold of his body. He stared down at the lettering for a moment, it had to be a coincidence...but nothing ever was that here. Shaking his head, he quickened his pace into the house. What Mephisto had been staring at, what he had caught glimpes at purely by chance, was his mother's name. Carved three inches thick in quartz.
Robin stared blankly at Amon, 40 thousand angery questions had just been thrown at her. Starting with 'When did you become such a stoner?' and ending with 'What the hell was with the old lady thing at the door?'. Not to mention accusations of her ending up in Mephisto's bed after an all night binge. Her eyes were wide, her mouth only slightly ajar.
"Because, hey, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition..." She almost erupted into sobs of laughter as the comment escaped her lips without without the OK from her brain. Managing control over riotous laughter, she only shook her head. That was not what Amon had wanted to hear, and he obviously didn't get the reference. Or at least if he did, he didn't find it at all amusing.
"No, Mephisto's way too old...even for me." She said, rolling her eyes at herself, and starting dining with her back to the angry young man behind her. Silently wondering to herself if he even knew what he was angry at...she certainly didn't. "I started toking when I was in Itally. I started toking HEAVILY when I got here. You've spent sometime alone with Meph, you can imagine being his only company for a few years." She got to chopping veggies. "I think he's looking for his children...what's left of them. If there are any." She shook her head, adding the veggies to the boiling beef broth. "I don't know who would know to be after that car, I've never used it, and Meph doesn't drive...he just sorta gets-"
"High, and wanders off." His voice was sharp, he was not liking her answers or as calmly as she was giving them. "The old lady thing?" At this she turned around and looked at him. As if deciding something.
"You remember, years ago, when we encountered the Methusela in walled city?" At his nod, she continued, "I told you then that she knew Time." He nodded, not comperhending. She sighed. "Time is a dimension, a twist to the fabric of reality. It is not a solid construct, just a twist." She saw he still did not understand, Her figure aged, her face lined with smiles and tears. "Old Robin." She said, he only blinked, still not getting it. Her figure shifted to the old woman from earlier. "Really Old Robin." He was still just staring at her. She gave up and threw her arms wide and became as frail and leather thin as a mummy from egypt. "DEAD ROBIN!" She shouted, just as Amon's mouth began to gape, she was back to being young and lovely. "I can twist the time around me, or just me, to suit what is needed...but I do not age." She explained, and took another hit. Offering the last half of the joint to him. This time he took it. Taking a toke, something dawned on him and he was standing before her. His eyes narrowing, that's how she'd slipped through his fingers! He'd been looking for his green eyed, young, beauty. Not a woman who could be any age, any time.
"I've seen you a dozen times and you never..." He began shaking, the roach falling to the floor as he grabbed her shoulders and raised to her toes in his iron grip. He wanted to shake her, or strike her, but the look in her eyes stayed both actions. Compassion and sorrow. And something else, something deeper than that. He was frozen in place, a knot in his throat began to mimic the permenant one in his gut.
"Why is Robin dead?" A warm, humored voice came behind them. "Is it dinner time yet? I'm starving. Young man, put your young Lady down, so we can all eat." Amon didn't move, the way Mephisto kept reffering to himself as Robin's and Robin as his own was beging to wear. Hadn't she already proved that not only was she her own, that she also wanted nothing to do with him? She was the one who left, after all. Dropping her, he stormed out of the room. Murmering something about not knowing why he was even there. He was half way out the door when he heard a choked sob from the room he had left behind.
Anger, and something dark with in him made him enjoy that sound. It was so familiar with the ones he'd made since she left. He heard the door swing shut as he stormed through the garden. Mists ebbed and faded, swirled around his feet. But no matter where his feet took him, he couldn't leave the garden he'd marched into.
"You never will at this rate." Mephisto's voice was clear, unfogged with the forgetfullness of age, answering Amon's unspoken question."
________________________
Robin finished making the hearty beef stew, sourdough bread and all, with tears streaming from her face. Perhaps she desevred this, she thought. She had left him, without notice or word. She sniffed, turned off the heat, and headed to her room. Careful to take an ample amount of stash with her from the freezer.
Getting to her private room, she headed straight for the tub for a long soak. She would be fine without him. She told herself, like she had for the past years...how long had it been really? Slipping into the scalding water she sighed, she hadn't stopped crying since she'd met that sad couple. So long ago and far away. Under the eyes of apathy, she had been able to look away as inocent people got hurt. Until them, and the loss of their daughter. She couldn't remember their names, but their faces were burned into her memory. As surely as the image of the pickled people floating in shimmering green space. The veil lifted from her eyes, and she vowed 'No more', when they too followed in the disappearing act.
She took a hit from the large bong resting on her flat stomach half way in the water. Her eyes crossed as she tried not to caugh. The Factory had gone down, just as she had secretly promised herself. It's mysteries revealed to her, and a few others. So far, of course, in vain. Solomon was jealous of it's mistakes, and even more so of the ones that involve out and out genocide.
Poor Amon. They both had been so racked with guilt and stress, he had flung himself at her. Sobbing first into her breast, then was pushed from touching her. She had spent many a long night and day huddled in a corner, staring at a wall, or sobbing uncontollably in a near fetal possition when he got too close. He had done what he could, putting her in bed when she had fallen asleep. Unable to touch her when she was awake for fear of setting off what ever was triggering her. She sighed and took another hit. She'd wanted to curl in his arms and be safe, possibly feel the comforts of love. But all she could think at the time was his gun in her face, and his cold voice telling her that she was a witch, not a human. That she didn't decerve the life she had been given. How could he love her anyway? She wasn't a natural born person...someone's science project.
She put the bong on the floor well with in reach, and rolled over in the tub. Trying to wash the pain of memory from her eyes. Then one day, she was out and getting food. The first time she'd left the safety of hole he'd hid her. She tripped over a leg, a leg that happened to belong to a man smoking weed. The familiar scent, turned into a familiar flavor. The familiar flavor turned into a conversation that turned into laughter. Something that had been foreign to her since her arrival in Japan. Then she realized she was lost. She had tried in vain to get back to where she'd come from, but found it impossible.
The man recommended that she wait for Amon to find her, since she couldn't remember how to get back to where she'd come from. He'd wait with her, until she was found. Amon never came. For a long time they sat there, eating what she had gotten from the open market, smoking the heavy flowers that Mephisto stored in his jacket. A long while past, and she decided to go with him to his home. It was better than waiting in the cold, and apparently, much to Mephisto's surprise, he had one to go too.
Robin had wondered in and out of awarness to time. Studying craft, cooking and cleaning, and looking after Mephisto. He'd dissappear for long periods of time sometimes, others he'd just sit in the garden. Staring longingly at the monument in front of him. The names of lovers and children through the ages carved in a large block of quartz, surrounded by blood red clamatis. Not all of his children had been laid to rest there, he said. He'd lost track of a few, a few he'd never been able to meet. But one by one, he'd find them, and add their names to their brothers and sisters. Robin had found this all too sad, and found herself in prayer there everyday since learning such. Always praying that lost family be found, not only by Mephisto, but by everyone who was looking. Praying that Amon would find her.
She sat up, grabbed the bong, and took a deep hit. She climbed out of the tub, released the water and went to bed. He'd found her and she had been known what to do with herself. It was true that she knew how he veiwed himself. It was true that she couldn't save him from it. It was also true that he was the first, and so far the only person who could touch her so deeply. She couldn't help him, because she couldn't help herself.
She set the bong down, and climbed into bed. For the first time in a long time, she wished she wouldn't wake from her sleep. She didn't want to die, she just didn't want to wake up from the dreams in which everything was all right. That Amon was smiling, that Mephisto was fullfilled, that people were left to be as they were without fear. The tears were still streaming as sleep took hold of her, and she found her peace.
_________________________-
As Mehisto spoke, Amon's foot hit something solid. In the dark, amid the shadow of flowering five point stars, was a glowing platform. Names had been etched into it's surface. Some of which he could read, most of which he could not.
"What is this?" Amon breathed, the quartz was glowing in the moonlight, full and round, like it's steller twin.
"The names of my children, and thier mothers." Mephisto sat on a bench, shadowed by the flowers. "All that have left this world, that I could find anyway."
"She waited for you...she couldn't find her way back to you....you didn't need to make her cry." Mephisto's arms were folded, his eyes though were sad, and thoughtfull.
"She told me she couldn't watch me tear myself apart. That's why she left me." He hissed back.
"NO, that's why she couldn't find her way back to you." The corner of the ancient's mouth twitched. "She left your house to fetch food. Food that I ate while we waited. We sat in an ally for three days waiting. I finally remembered I lived here, and brought her back." He lowered his head, stairing at the glowing platform. "I couldn't leave her to wander alone...not a gentle person like her." Amon sat down on it. Folding his legs in front of him. So she hadn't even meant to leave him.
"Then why did she never recognize me?" He eyed the elder, this lucid state surely would not last long. "Every time I saw her in her older forms....I didn't even know she could do that...." Now he was talking to himself, a habit he'd picked up the past few years.
"Everything has a price." The ancient sighed. "With age, comes forgetfullness of youth's joys, and sadness. If you spend too much time in timeless space, eventually, you forget the things that hurt." The dreaminess slipped back into Mephisto's voice, and Amon knew he's moment of clarity was gone. "It's cold out here...I am hungry. Where is My Lady?" The elder stood and started toward the house. "She usually has dinner ready by now...." Amon sighed heavily, and began to follow the strange person into the house.
His foot paused over something on the dais. Something in the shimmering light caught his attention. He froze as recognition took hold of his body. He stared down at the lettering for a moment, it had to be a coincidence...but nothing ever was that here. Shaking his head, he quickened his pace into the house. What Mephisto had been staring at, what he had caught glimpes at purely by chance, was his mother's name. Carved three inches thick in quartz.