Knocking on the Door (CA - Robin & Uno)
Quote from Indy on December 19, 2018, 1:01 amUno and Robin recover from the events immediately following A Coat of Fresh Paint. Haunted by the Telkane's confession that Darius, their former tormentor and werewolf progenitor, is dead and buried by the Svalnaglas' hands, Uno decides to go looking for answers. He enlists the help of Robin and Chapman to seek out their former mentor from their Hunter days, Steele, and press for more details that happened all those years ago. Yet once brought to the very door that holds their answers, Uno finds he can't do anything more than knock.
It was early. The sky was the color of charcoal and honey, the sun hidden behind the swath of clouds that had lingered from the storm. The air was cold and biting, a promising harbinger of a miserable day ahead. Yet in the throaty purr of the car, that much was quickly evaporating. Uno clutched a steaming mug of black coffee, his face strangely, soberly awake in spite of the hallow circle beneath his only eye.
He inhaled the steaming vapors from the styrofoam cup, pressing it close with one hand and taking a small tentative sip. He steadied his other hand on the steering wheel, as though under some illusion he would be taking off at any moment. He shifted his gaze outward from the parking lot, his anxiety betrayed only by the white-knuckled grip of the steering wheel.
Absentmindedly, he considered the weeds growing from the cracked gravel of the parking lot and the low, grey complex that encircled it. It was nothing impressive, where the two of them had been staying, but there was intelligence enough to its choice. It was a moderately maintained motel at the edge of a few towns over, far enough away not to provoke any werewolf packs and just removed enough from the general public to have some peace. The accommodations were generous enough, at least when one compared it to living in the woods and eating what you caught.
And it was safe. He was sure of it. He’d have known if it wasn’t. A werewolf’s senses had yet to lie to him…
… except for that night.
Absently, his fingers fumbled for the radio knob. A man's voice and static fed him today’s weather forecast. His gaze, almost against his will, fell hard on room number 105. They’d said she’d be returned… they had said a lot of things, things that sooner rather than later, would need to be confirmed.
He kept his eye trained on the door until he felt his mind settle, almost as though he were waiting for the click when he cocked a gun. Then he exhaled, slowly as he mechanically turned the car key to the left and the tired, faded voice of the newscaster died on "chances of scattered showers until—". Still holding his coffee with one hand, he exited the car and walked towards the door. His gait betrayed no hesitation, yet his breath caught somewhere in his throat. With his free hand, he pounded on the door until his knuckles stung.
"Robin, you better be in there, or so help me…"
Uno and Robin recover from the events immediately following A Coat of Fresh Paint. Haunted by the Telkane's confession that Darius, their former tormentor and werewolf progenitor, is dead and buried by the Svalnaglas' hands, Uno decides to go looking for answers. He enlists the help of Robin and Chapman to seek out their former mentor from their Hunter days, Steele, and press for more details that happened all those years ago. Yet once brought to the very door that holds their answers, Uno finds he can't do anything more than knock.
It was early. The sky was the color of charcoal and honey, the sun hidden behind the swath of clouds that had lingered from the storm. The air was cold and biting, a promising harbinger of a miserable day ahead. Yet in the throaty purr of the car, that much was quickly evaporating. Uno clutched a steaming mug of black coffee, his face strangely, soberly awake in spite of the hallow circle beneath his only eye.
He inhaled the steaming vapors from the styrofoam cup, pressing it close with one hand and taking a small tentative sip. He steadied his other hand on the steering wheel, as though under some illusion he would be taking off at any moment. He shifted his gaze outward from the parking lot, his anxiety betrayed only by the white-knuckled grip of the steering wheel.
Absentmindedly, he considered the weeds growing from the cracked gravel of the parking lot and the low, grey complex that encircled it. It was nothing impressive, where the two of them had been staying, but there was intelligence enough to its choice. It was a moderately maintained motel at the edge of a few towns over, far enough away not to provoke any werewolf packs and just removed enough from the general public to have some peace. The accommodations were generous enough, at least when one compared it to living in the woods and eating what you caught.
And it was safe. He was sure of it. He’d have known if it wasn’t. A werewolf’s senses had yet to lie to him…
… except for that night.
Absently, his fingers fumbled for the radio knob. A man's voice and static fed him today’s weather forecast. His gaze, almost against his will, fell hard on room number 105. They’d said she’d be returned… they had said a lot of things, things that sooner rather than later, would need to be confirmed.
He kept his eye trained on the door until he felt his mind settle, almost as though he were waiting for the click when he cocked a gun. Then he exhaled, slowly as he mechanically turned the car key to the left and the tired, faded voice of the newscaster died on "chances of scattered showers until—". Still holding his coffee with one hand, he exited the car and walked towards the door. His gait betrayed no hesitation, yet his breath caught somewhere in his throat. With his free hand, he pounded on the door until his knuckles stung.
"Robin, you better be in there, or so help me…"
Quote from Adriana on December 19, 2018, 7:31 pmI sat at the edge of the bed with my fingers laced together. My mind was elsewhere as my fingers lost circulation-how long had I been sitting like this? I wasn't keeping track. The only sound was the thrum of my heart, the only constant thing in my life. Even then, there were days where I felt like it was quiet, and my soul stifled went on without feeling. I don't like those days. When the hurt goes away, there's not a thing left but a hole where it once was. Some might say that's a good thing. Some don't know how it is to feel like a corpse among the living. So long as the ache is there, you know there's something there to ache, same way a burn on a hand makes you remember your hand is still there and needs attention.
Today wasn't one of those days. Today hurt like a devil, like brandy on a fresh wound.
There was a knock-more like banging at the door-and my eyes began towards the clock on the wall, checkout time maybe. No sooner had I stood and begun to wipe my face did I hear a voice-someone familiar, and made a bee line for the door. I undid the locks as I habitually checked the peephole, and no sooner were the locks undone than the door opened.
I looked his face over, noticing the bruises with a passing glance. Bruises didn't matter. There wasn't a thing you could do to our bodies that could hurt us. The ruins left of our minds and souls, those teetered carefully on the edge of a chasm, one of which I was not keen to know what lay at the bottom.
"You alright?" I asked, voice tired, cracked.
I sat at the edge of the bed with my fingers laced together. My mind was elsewhere as my fingers lost circulation-how long had I been sitting like this? I wasn't keeping track. The only sound was the thrum of my heart, the only constant thing in my life. Even then, there were days where I felt like it was quiet, and my soul stifled went on without feeling. I don't like those days. When the hurt goes away, there's not a thing left but a hole where it once was. Some might say that's a good thing. Some don't know how it is to feel like a corpse among the living. So long as the ache is there, you know there's something there to ache, same way a burn on a hand makes you remember your hand is still there and needs attention.
Today wasn't one of those days. Today hurt like a devil, like brandy on a fresh wound.
There was a knock-more like banging at the door-and my eyes began towards the clock on the wall, checkout time maybe. No sooner had I stood and begun to wipe my face did I hear a voice-someone familiar, and made a bee line for the door. I undid the locks as I habitually checked the peephole, and no sooner were the locks undone than the door opened.
I looked his face over, noticing the bruises with a passing glance. Bruises didn't matter. There wasn't a thing you could do to our bodies that could hurt us. The ruins left of our minds and souls, those teetered carefully on the edge of a chasm, one of which I was not keen to know what lay at the bottom.
"You alright?" I asked, voice tired, cracked.
Quote from Indy on December 19, 2018, 7:55 pmThe door shuddered open and he tried not to let the relief flood his expression. Rather than meet her gaze, he drained the last of the coffee instead, swallowing hard as though it were more like a hard lump of fat. He lowered the cup, slowly making note of every new blemish, every hair that had come to disarray on Robin. She was alive. But just as he could barely hide the tremble of his hands holding the styrofoam cup, he knew she wasn’t "alright".
"I’m fine," the lie fell easily off his lips, but all the same, Robin would know it was a lie. But he’d give her another moment of peace, if she wanted to take it.
He took a quick glance to the bedroom behind her, considering the small clues inside. What they meant, he didn’t yet know, yet his expression darkened all the same. Even if not a single article of discarded clothing or fold in the covers betrayed a presence other than their own, he knew with every fiber that somehow, this space had contaminated. Maybe they hadn’t placed Robin in the unsettled covers of the bed, maybe she’d even walked from her own park bench, yet the moment he’d opened the door he’d known they’d been compromised.
He searched deeper into the room, before settling on a half-opened suitcase.
"We need to leave," he said quietly, "I can help you pack, I’ll even take you out the breakfast… but after that, we need to talk".
The door shuddered open and he tried not to let the relief flood his expression. Rather than meet her gaze, he drained the last of the coffee instead, swallowing hard as though it were more like a hard lump of fat. He lowered the cup, slowly making note of every new blemish, every hair that had come to disarray on Robin. She was alive. But just as he could barely hide the tremble of his hands holding the styrofoam cup, he knew she wasn’t "alright".
"I’m fine," the lie fell easily off his lips, but all the same, Robin would know it was a lie. But he’d give her another moment of peace, if she wanted to take it.
He took a quick glance to the bedroom behind her, considering the small clues inside. What they meant, he didn’t yet know, yet his expression darkened all the same. Even if not a single article of discarded clothing or fold in the covers betrayed a presence other than their own, he knew with every fiber that somehow, this space had contaminated. Maybe they hadn’t placed Robin in the unsettled covers of the bed, maybe she’d even walked from her own park bench, yet the moment he’d opened the door he’d known they’d been compromised.
He searched deeper into the room, before settling on a half-opened suitcase.
"We need to leave," he said quietly, "I can help you pack, I’ll even take you out the breakfast… but after that, we need to talk".
Quote from Adriana on January 5, 2019, 9:44 pmI breathed in deeply and watched him. Where his eyes went, his shaking fingers, his shaking soul, just beneath the surface. I took a moment to let him inspect it all- then moved close and took the coffee cup from his hand and set it aside, before replacing it with my own hand, and bringing my other arm around his back, pulling him close.
I didn't know if I'd see you again, I thought. But didn't say it. "It's alright," I whispered instead, "For just a moment, it's alright." I added. And it was. At least he was here. And I was here. That was alright enough.
I breathed in deeply and watched him. Where his eyes went, his shaking fingers, his shaking soul, just beneath the surface. I took a moment to let him inspect it all- then moved close and took the coffee cup from his hand and set it aside, before replacing it with my own hand, and bringing my other arm around his back, pulling him close.
I didn't know if I'd see you again, I thought. But didn't say it. "It's alright," I whispered instead, "For just a moment, it's alright." I added. And it was. At least he was here. And I was here. That was alright enough.
Quote from Indy on January 6, 2019, 12:01 amUno made a startled spasm as Robin pulled the coffeecup from his hands and pulled him in close. He was not often an affectionate person. His expression flooded with momentary panic before it faded, and he allowed himself, begrudgingly, to be pulled inward. Touch was always a strange gesture to him, and more often experienced in the fists of a foe than in the embrace of a friend.
Still, there was something to the embrace that was familiar. Something that held him where he was instead of pulling away. Something safe… Something he had not known since he was very young, and why Robin, of all people, was allowed to hug him. When he finally pulled away, he was surprised to find something wet on his cheek. He dried it coarsely with his palm, and looked a moment more at Robin.
"Come on… We need to get on the road as soon as we can".
Uno made a startled spasm as Robin pulled the coffeecup from his hands and pulled him in close. He was not often an affectionate person. His expression flooded with momentary panic before it faded, and he allowed himself, begrudgingly, to be pulled inward. Touch was always a strange gesture to him, and more often experienced in the fists of a foe than in the embrace of a friend.
Still, there was something to the embrace that was familiar. Something that held him where he was instead of pulling away. Something safe… Something he had not known since he was very young, and why Robin, of all people, was allowed to hug him. When he finally pulled away, he was surprised to find something wet on his cheek. He dried it coarsely with his palm, and looked a moment more at Robin.
"Come on… We need to get on the road as soon as we can".
Quote from Adriana on February 19, 2019, 6:07 pmI let a sigh escape as I stepped back, my shoulders dropping. I put a hand on his face and shook my head,
"Val... I'm tired of runnin'. Been a long time on the road..." my hand dropped and went around my waist. "A real long time." rubbing the back of my neck. "We gonna keep doing this forever? Because truth is, I don't want to anymore.. I keep thinking of being eighty, my mind in shambles, sitting on the streets somewhere and waiting for the Grim Reaper to take me away. " I grew quiet and let the silence hang.. then squeezed my own arms tight and tried to shut the thought out.
"She's up there in that mountain, with them. He's behind us in the city among their enemies. I was so close.. I don't know if I'll-" my voice broke into some high pitched whimper, and I waited a moment, "I don't know if I can ever see them. My whole life I've hung onto maybe somedays, and right now, I don't know if I have enough to hold onto anymore."
I found my way back to the bed, in no hurry. He was afraid of something on the outside getting in. I was scared to death on what was on the inside getting out. Those demons in my head, clawing their way through my skull.
"All I can think about is how I wish that the hunters bullet would have counted when it hit me." I put my head in my hands. I never thought the words would leave my mouth.
I let a sigh escape as I stepped back, my shoulders dropping. I put a hand on his face and shook my head,
"Val... I'm tired of runnin'. Been a long time on the road..." my hand dropped and went around my waist. "A real long time." rubbing the back of my neck. "We gonna keep doing this forever? Because truth is, I don't want to anymore.. I keep thinking of being eighty, my mind in shambles, sitting on the streets somewhere and waiting for the Grim Reaper to take me away. " I grew quiet and let the silence hang.. then squeezed my own arms tight and tried to shut the thought out.
"She's up there in that mountain, with them. He's behind us in the city among their enemies. I was so close.. I don't know if I'll-" my voice broke into some high pitched whimper, and I waited a moment, "I don't know if I can ever see them. My whole life I've hung onto maybe somedays, and right now, I don't know if I have enough to hold onto anymore."
I found my way back to the bed, in no hurry. He was afraid of something on the outside getting in. I was scared to death on what was on the inside getting out. Those demons in my head, clawing their way through my skull.
"All I can think about is how I wish that the hunters bullet would have counted when it hit me." I put my head in my hands. I never thought the words would leave my mouth.
Quote from Indy on March 3, 2019, 8:13 pmThe coffee cup was gone from its comforting place in his hands. Robin was pulling away from him, receding back into the linoleum and cheap carpet of the motel room. For an instant he felt vulnerable, exposed, as though both those things had somehow been a shield. He stood painfully still, slowly watching, waiting, knowing that if he rushed the formulations of his mind he would make the wrong choice.
Then at last he exhaled slowly, nodded to himself, and walked casually into the small room. He glanced around as though taking keener interest of the details he’d seen from the doorway, even daring to pick up a strangely discolored sock on the tv stand, but the reality was far simpler— motion, any motion, offered a temporary solace.
Then he slowly considered the bed Robin had just collapsed upon, the smell of coffee on his breath as he stood just behind her.
"We’re not running," the silence almost fell poetically, as though he'd planned it. The truth was he had wanted to tell her over a plate of bacon and eggs and another cup of coffee in his hand. Maybe he’d have even made her smile before he said these next cold words. Now those cold words were stuck somewhere in his throat. But he knew now that they couldn’t wait. He sighed.
"Robin… Darius is dead…. The Svanglas sent him sleeping to the banks of the Monvac river"
He tore the covers away from her, not offering her a place to hide if she even wanted to from the words. His single, umber eye bore down on her with a savage intensity.
"Robin… if we are going to survive these games with them, we need to know why. And I know only one man that might even have a guess"
The coffee cup was gone from its comforting place in his hands. Robin was pulling away from him, receding back into the linoleum and cheap carpet of the motel room. For an instant he felt vulnerable, exposed, as though both those things had somehow been a shield. He stood painfully still, slowly watching, waiting, knowing that if he rushed the formulations of his mind he would make the wrong choice.
Then at last he exhaled slowly, nodded to himself, and walked casually into the small room. He glanced around as though taking keener interest of the details he’d seen from the doorway, even daring to pick up a strangely discolored sock on the tv stand, but the reality was far simpler— motion, any motion, offered a temporary solace.
Then he slowly considered the bed Robin had just collapsed upon, the smell of coffee on his breath as he stood just behind her.
"We’re not running," the silence almost fell poetically, as though he'd planned it. The truth was he had wanted to tell her over a plate of bacon and eggs and another cup of coffee in his hand. Maybe he’d have even made her smile before he said these next cold words. Now those cold words were stuck somewhere in his throat. But he knew now that they couldn’t wait. He sighed.
"Robin… Darius is dead…. The Svanglas sent him sleeping to the banks of the Monvac river"
He tore the covers away from her, not offering her a place to hide if she even wanted to from the words. His single, umber eye bore down on her with a savage intensity.
"Robin… if we are going to survive these games with them, we need to know why. And I know only one man that might even have a guess"
Quote from Adriana on March 25, 2019, 8:26 pmI look him over, his one eye firmly planted on me, the ghost of his other still piercing my soul just the same as it used to.
"Darius had ghouls a long time comin, they just sped it up a little... he took your eye, pulled our humanity out from under us as if it were just a game."
My fingers clenched my kneecaps til they had no circulation left in em. Even his name dredged up a whole different demon, but I exhaled, and it was gone with my breath.
"If they wanna play games, they're gonna... no amount of knowledge is going to stop that. They're a powerful people, and a powerful monster, too. It's the worst kind of politics to be mixed up in. If you've some notion on how you wanna face them or hide from them, be my guest, and I'll follow you.. but I'm all outta fight."
I look him over, his one eye firmly planted on me, the ghost of his other still piercing my soul just the same as it used to.
"Darius had ghouls a long time comin, they just sped it up a little... he took your eye, pulled our humanity out from under us as if it were just a game."
My fingers clenched my kneecaps til they had no circulation left in em. Even his name dredged up a whole different demon, but I exhaled, and it was gone with my breath.
"If they wanna play games, they're gonna... no amount of knowledge is going to stop that. They're a powerful people, and a powerful monster, too. It's the worst kind of politics to be mixed up in. If you've some notion on how you wanna face them or hide from them, be my guest, and I'll follow you.. but I'm all outta fight."
Quote from Indy on March 25, 2019, 8:35 pmUno watched Robin’s lips move, yet something in his eyes seemed distant, as though he were watching a character on tv say the words instead of the woman before him. Then his arms started to tremble. Subtly. Hardly distinguishable from his breathing. Then he had to clench his palms into fists, and then every muscle in his body, lest the tremors overtake him.
He grit his teeth and exhaled slowly. Cooly. He unclenched his right fist with slow methodical technique,and settled it woodenly on Robin’s shoulder. Then his palms started to wrap around it, tugging her with gentle force to move to her feet.
"We’re not victims," he said quietly.
"I didn’t survive because I was a victim," he said in a tone above the first.
"We haven't made it this far together because we were afraid" the third tone rose from hoarse whisper then to a snarl and a growl, before at last settling into silence.
He glanced towards the gloomily light sky and huffed with irritation,"Daylight’s burning. We’re visiting dear old Dad.. and may as well invite Chapman, too".
Uno watched Robin’s lips move, yet something in his eyes seemed distant, as though he were watching a character on tv say the words instead of the woman before him. Then his arms started to tremble. Subtly. Hardly distinguishable from his breathing. Then he had to clench his palms into fists, and then every muscle in his body, lest the tremors overtake him.
He grit his teeth and exhaled slowly. Cooly. He unclenched his right fist with slow methodical technique,and settled it woodenly on Robin’s shoulder. Then his palms started to wrap around it, tugging her with gentle force to move to her feet.
"We’re not victims," he said quietly.
"I didn’t survive because I was a victim," he said in a tone above the first.
"We haven't made it this far together because we were afraid" the third tone rose from hoarse whisper then to a snarl and a growl, before at last settling into silence.
He glanced towards the gloomily light sky and huffed with irritation,"Daylight’s burning. We’re visiting dear old Dad.. and may as well invite Chapman, too".
Quote from Adriana on March 26, 2019, 1:58 pmI looked Uno over. His words resonated years of experience. He was barely a man when we first met. By now he'd been through so much. He wasn't always so steadfast, I didn't expect him to be-but in this moment, he was an anchor to my drifting mind.
My feet were tired yesterday and for the last decade, but I rose to them in spite of their protest. Nodding, I clasped my hand on Uno's shoulder, then hastily collected my things into the old abused case to put into his car.
"Alright... I'm ready."
I looked Uno over. His words resonated years of experience. He was barely a man when we first met. By now he'd been through so much. He wasn't always so steadfast, I didn't expect him to be-but in this moment, he was an anchor to my drifting mind.
My feet were tired yesterday and for the last decade, but I rose to them in spite of their protest. Nodding, I clasped my hand on Uno's shoulder, then hastily collected my things into the old abused case to put into his car.
"Alright... I'm ready."
