Hmmm... what is this?

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“I came; I saw; I had to climb it."

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Hmmm... what is this? Robin stared up at the rafters of the arena from atop Link's black-spotted back. Anyone who walked by would probably think the girl was crazy, just staring up at the ceiling like that-- but in reality, Robin was assessing the long wooden rafters and planks that lay suspended a good twenty-feet above her head. New climbing rig for my amusement? Blue eyes trailing around the room, Robin took Link's reigns in her hand, steering him to turn in a tight-circle while she searched. There-- an innocent ladder propped up against the wall. Well, for Robin-- this was a gift from above. Seeing a high-place=must climb, and as Robin had recently broken her ankle, she wasn't too eager to try and scale the walls using the cracks of age.

A half-an-hour later, Robin limped into the arena, this time without her trusty mare. Her black-back-pack was slung across her shoulder, and her leather journal lay secure within a hidden pocket of her jacket. Pen slipped into her shoe, Robin quickly scurried up the aging-old-ladder and into the hay-loft it led to. Sneezing for a minute at the sudden dust, Robin scaled the tips of the hay-stack and reached up to grasp one of the wooden-support beams. Cautiously, on arm strength alone, Robin hoisted herself up onto the thick beam, and successfully reaching the final level of her climb.

Luckily, the beam held.

Scampering along the splinter diseased wood, Robin looked almost nonchalant and unconcerned as she moved quickly to the middle of the thick beam-- arms slung around the adjacent supports that followed. Preoccupied in trying to find a spot in the wood that wouldn't put to much strain on her ankle, Robin gritted her teeth and almost didn't notice the creaking of the barn door opening.

[Nikolas James Shadows]

Nikolas slipped quietly into the arena, wincing at the creak of the door opening. He hated the noise, as he wished to be unnoticed by any occupants of the arena. He wasn't here to socialize, he was here to be alone, away from the curious students of the academy. He was here to get away from the people who insistently asked questions about his past, questions that he didn't want to answer. He was here to try to get rid of the feelings of despair and regret that always shoved themselves on him when the memories of his past came along.

Nikolas sighed, his breath escaping him in a sudden burst. He hated the memories. the ones that slipped up on him unnoticed, the ones that left him weak and powerless, the ones that so filled him with despair that all he wanted to do was scream out his frustration and anger and cry until the end of time. The memories... Those horrid memories of a burned manor, memories of roaring flames and thunder crashing all around, the memories of his flesh searing, burning, cracking. The memories of everything that he knew and loved, everything that he had ever wished for, burning to the ground, flying away in the winds of time to a place that Nik could never get to.


Unconsciously, Nik began to rub his hands together, the leather of the black gloves soft against his scarred hands. He had been lucky to get away with nothing more than burned hands. He was lucky to be alive, and to this day, he still didn't know how he had managed to escape. But he did know that he would never go back. That time in his life was gone, and never again would he be the spoiled brat of a boy that he had been then. Never again would he trust another person. Never again would he let anyone get close to him. Never again would he be the weak, shallow boy that he had been then. Never again would that time come back to him. All that was done and gone, and this new, hardened Nik had replaced it.

Nik walked silently over to the opposite side of the building and slipped through a thin crack in the wall. On the other side of the crack was a room, carved out of the building as it grew older. Nik had found the room long ago, and he know called it his own, as no one else knew about the room. It was a dark place, the only light coming from thin cracks in the walls. A desk was set against the wall, papers covering the wooden surface, and in the opposite end of the room was a staircase leading up. Without even a glance at the desk, Nik started up the stairs.

He was about halfway up the stairs when he began to feel the pain. He drew in a sharp breath as it reached him and a shiver of thrill ran down his spine. Some one close was in pain, and ever little bit of it feed his soul just a little more. With every wave of pain that came, the memories from his past that had been forcing their way to the front of his mind receded a little farther.

Now who could this be? What little friend of mine is in such pain, filling my soul with beautiful pain? Nikolas carefully walked up the rest of the winding staircase, taking care to make sure he didn't make a sound. Upon reaching the top, he stopped in the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb. He saw the girl in the middle of the rafters, on the beam that led from his door. She was a pretty little thing, and it was obvious that her ankle was broken.

What are you doing up here, my pretty, with that banged up ankle and all alone? Don't you know how easy it would be for the big bad wolf to get you?

[Christina Ann Robins]

Urgh. This isn’t nearly as long or as detailed as I had written it up before. Sorry.

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"Birds are cool. They can fly, soar, and lay, well, eggs. But we humans seem to forget that most birds have a beak designed to kill and talons that can leave deep, lasting, scars."

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Leaning back against a relatively sturdy beam, Robin slipped her hand into her brown jacket—retrieving a leather-crowned journal. Flipping open the clasp, she slid a fine-ink-pen from out of her other pocket. Clicking the top of the cap, she urged the pen into action.

September 23rd, 2011: Alexandria Academy Indoor Arena: 20 feet, wood rafters.

It wasn’t the first of her list. There where at least two or three pages filled with simple entries of a similar format, the most recent before this one being dated two weeks ago: the day she earned herself a broken ankle, and her friend two broken ribs. Robin hadn’t let it get to her however, refusing to admit anything wrong to anyone, and patching herself up the best she could with some bandages.

A few seconds before Nikolas had reached the beginning part of his hideaway, Robin had continued to write in her small journal, flipping quickly to a page with some half-heartedly scrawled musical notes. Adding a few more and revising a few others, Robin’s ability suddenly alerted her of a presence seemingly right next to her at the beginning of the rafter. Almost instantly afterward, her empathic nature alerted her of his pain… and pleasure.

Not able to understand or hear his thoughts, but getting the gist of it from Nikolas’s emotions, Robin clicked her pen shut and pocketed both it and her journal back into her jacket. “Well, if anyone did ‘get me’,” Robin said slowly, a faint smile flickering on her face as she turned to face the new figure. “I’m pretty sure I’d give them a good fight.”

[Nikolas James Shadows]

Well, if anyone did ‘get me', I’m pretty sure I’d give them a good fight. The words brought a smile to Nikolas' face when he heard them.

"Now, now. I don't mean that kind of 'get you'. I'm sure you would put up a good fight, even with that banged up ankle of yours. But that's not what I was talking about, my dear. Though you may be physically strong, mentally, you're as weak as can be. All those things that keep you safe from someone preying on your emotions or mind, you don't have them. Work to avoid me all you want, but one such as you cannot get away from one such as I."

As he had begun speaking, he had shifted away from the doorjamb and slowly started walking towards Robin. He put one foot straight in front of the other, his hands in his pockets and a crooked grin on his face. It was obvious he was enjoying himself.

When he finished, he was standing a short way away from Robin. He leaned against a support pole and studied Robin. She was a pretty girl, small enough, but he could tell that under her frail appearance lied a strength that most couldn't see. She was definitely a strong girl, the type he might have tried to win if he had known her before the fire. But that was then, he didn't get close to anyone anymore.

[Christina Ann Robins]

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"I can sense people's actions from far distances. No, seriously--! right now I can tell that you're reading my quote."

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"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can work it out," Robin said breezily, relaxing against the pillar, crossing her arms. "After all, aren't empathic persons supposed to be to be the masters of emotions?"

Well, it was true that she wasn't the best, quite honestly-- but that wouldn't stop Robin from trying. Mental attack was one of Robins weaker points, as having to deal with the constant emotions of so many people around her wore her down considerably. Yet, the two conversing teenagers were no where near anyone else at the moment, so it was pretty much a toss-up, and an mathematical equation of will and thought-process.

Now Robin simply returned his stare studying him for a change. Well, not studying his appearance, more of what he was inside. The quick display of colors that popped into Robin's head would mean little or nothing to anyone, but to the girl they spoke wonders. Anger, hurt, litte to no fear, some hidden sadness, arrogance... black, red, green, grays... so many grays...

Suddenly realizing she had closed her eyes, Robin snapped them open and unfolded her arms, playing with a few blue sparks of her life-force in her cupped hands. As much as it hurt to admit is, Robin was enjoying the banter and was curious to see what he might say next.

[Nikolas James Shadows]

"Maybe so, maybe so. But not always. Sometimes, being an empathetic might be a bad thing. It might just bring you down, worse than you would be normally. Wouldn't you agree?"

As he talked, Nik walked up to stand in front of Robin, his arm on the pole above her, trapping her between the support beam and his own body. His dark, sadistic smile graced his face, and behind the arrogance that clouded his eyes, a small trace of pain and bitterness could be seen.

A pretty one she is, a right pretty one. Nice smile, pretty figure, even with that broken ankle. I bet she has a pretty smile. Wait! Stop it! Nik shook his head, trying to clear his mind of such unsavory thoughts. No girl had ever gotten close to him since the fire, and none ever would. It would be too much for him, not something he wanted to obligate himself to.

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“I will follow my logic, no matter where it goes, after it has consulted with my heart. If you ever come to a conclusion without calling the heart in, you will come to a bad conclusion.”

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"What's that supposed to mean?" Robin asked sharply, easy banter crumbling to be replaced by a sharp defensive tone-- eyes turning into slits. "I've never met an empath to be dragged down by their skills." Well, that was technically true. The only empath she had ever known, besides herself, was Kins-- and he didn't mention anything about people's emotions bothering him. So, sure-- Robin had never met anyone who was dragged down by their skills.

Except herself, but that didn't really count.

"Even if I was dragged down by someone else's emotions, your own aren't putting up much of a threat," Robin pointed out, arms crossing. "In fact-- I'm hardly getting anything from you, and it's certainly not bothering me at all." Another half-lie, she was getting a little bit from him, not much-- but a little; the problem only being the continuous waves of pain he projected, that became her own secondhandedly. But hey-- Robin's jumped off a roof before, a little pain ain't going to set her on edge.

Yet why did Robin consider trying to get away?

[Nikolas James Shadows]

**no idea where to go with this after what you see here... Something cool should happen though. Any ideas?**

"It means exactly what it sounds like. It means you're weak, your powers weigh you down, make it harder for you to live. Your powers can leave you useless, weak, it could even kill you if you're not careful. I know, I've been in a lot of places, seen a lot of things. Things that no person ever wants to see, things that no person should ever live through.

"Oh, of course you're not getting anything. I don't want you to get anything. I can let them all out if you want, every little tiny emotion locked up inside of me. I can let them all out for you, let you see them all, if you wish."

Nik looked down at the blonde haired girl standing before him, his trademark, sadistic smile on his face. He decided to let her have a little taste of his emotions, just a tiny bit, show her that there was more to him than anyone ever knew. Mentally, he opened a gate, not much, just a tiny crack, and emotions flooded out. Pain, lots and lots of pain. Pain over losing his beloved brother, poor Nicolae, out there somewhere in the world when Shadow's Manor burned. Nicolae, probably dead by this time. Pain over losing his sweetheart. Melanie, such a sweet girl she had been. Poor compared to the Shadows, but her heart overtook it all. Memories of her bright smile, her playful attitude overtook Nikolas unwillingly.

"Nikolas! Come on Nik, aren't you going to come?" Her voice pierced the haze around his mind, bringing a smile to his face. Melanie stood down a ways, by the river, her light brown hair blowing in the soft wind, her hazel eyes laughing. She was a pretty girl, always full of surprised, and Nik loved every second he spent with her.

"Of course, Mel. I was just thinking." He smiled as he jogged to catch up with her. She laughed, her voice high and sweet to his ears, and they began to walk together towards the town center. She slipped her hand into his, and he pulled her close, her body warm next to him.

Nik shook his head, trying to clear the unpleasant memories. Melanie was gone. There was no going back to her, never again would her voice reach his ears, never again would her arms circle around his waist. Melanie was nothing more than a memory in his past, one of the few he hadn't yet been able to suppress to nothingness. Plus, he had better things to worry about, like what to do with the girl in front of him now.

[Christina Ann Robins]

(Well, no-- not really. I have a vague idea, but I need a little more to work something out. See if this gets you any ideas. xD)

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"The wise man would choose physical torture to mental torture," said one.

"But, why?" Another said, "Enough physical torture can kill you!"

"Ah, yes," Said the first. "But wounds on the body can heal. Wounds in the mind never do."

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The effects were instantaneous. Robin's eyes widened as the pain hit her like a sledgehammer. This was not cool-- this was like child-abuse or something! It was alot, and it was channeled hard. Helplessly, she sensed the little energy she had left leave her as just as quickly as the pain came.

Reflexive function. When a body her size experiences intense pain, or in Robin's case intense emotion, it shuts down. That is unfortunate when you're twenty feet up in the air. The world was spinning too fast in a sickening turmoil. Robin's blood was running cold inside her body as she saw the familiar darkness closing over her once again-- so much like that time at the Vietnam War Wall. Then her unresponsive limbs slipped over the side of the rafter.

Falling, falling dangit! The blackness was forced back by an absurd amount of energy that welled up from the depths of Robin's life-force. The ground, the ground! Robin let the life-force continue up through her arms, and out of her finger-tips-- sending a blinding burst of life-force energy to the wood-chips below.

WHAM! Robin managed to right herself as she hit the force-field she had created, and learned how to create not long ago in her adventure with River. She slid off the transparent blue field and onto the ground, landing in a wobbly crouch. Standing up, quite wobbly, knees week, she turned a furious gaze up to the rafters above. "Just leave me alone, dangit!" The girl shouted, eyes scrunching shut with both after-affected pain, dizziness, and pure rage.

She whirled around, and stormed over to the doors of the barn, throwing them open with a vengeance.

Stop.

Robin stopped dead, bare feet still on the wood-chipped pavement, not daring to take a single step further. In front of her, stood a sheet of rain-- pounding into the earth outside. There was no way... no way Robin would take another step, not to save her own life. She simply stood there, staring into the pouring rain-- not enough energy to form another shield, cringing away from the spray of the rainwater. Soon enough, that rain would turn into hail from the sheer cool of the outside, being December and all, and perhaps snow.

Why me?

[Nikolas James Shadows]

Nik hadn't expected for the girl to fall off the rafters. He made a grab for her wrist, knowing a fall that far could be very bad. He may want her pain, but he didn't want to kill her! He wouldn't go as far as the boys in England had. He didn't want to kill, he didn't want people to die because of him. That was the one thing Nik would never do.

But of course, his wild grab missed, and the girl fell. Involuntarily, Nik cried out and looked away, afraid to see what would happen next. When he looked back down, he say the girl land on some blue force field thing, safe and fine. She looked up angrily at Nik and stormed off to the doors.

Just leave me along, dangit! The words reached Nik's ears, and he cringed. He didn't know what it was about this girl that made that difficult to hear, but nonetheless it pained him. Who was this girl, and why did she affect him like she did? It was getting hard to fight his own barrier, hard to keep it there where he had put it. It seemed the longer he was here, the more the thought of pouring out all his grief, all his pain, not the feelings, but just telling her about it, the longer he was here the better it sounded.

Then the doors opened to pouring rain. She obviously wasn't leaving, which meant the urge to pour it all out on her was going to continue to grow stronger.

"I don't think you're going to be going anywhere in that rain. Just wait, soon it will be snow, then you can leave, once it's all over," Nik said, his voice kinder than normal.

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“You cannot find peace by avoiding life."

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Robin whirled around and gave him a piercing glare, more of a reflex to turn away from the rain than to retaliate to his calling. Angrily wiping her forehead, where a cut from the fall was already stinging, Robin made her way over to the furthest part of the arena, with surprisingly calm steps.

There were no stalls, or barrels of hay to hide in now. Just an incredibly open, incredibly cold square room with wooden rafters, tin walls, and an emo-wannabe in the air. Crumpling down in the corner (the furthest one away from the open doors), Robin sat down on the chips and laid her head ontop of her knees, burying her face; reliving every second of the past minute over and over on an endless, painful, loop.

What was the deal with this kid? Intentionally cornering her like that? Intentionally releasing his emotions, all the while with that sadistic smile on his face-- probably knowing it'd hurt? Must have something to do with his own powers, Robin sniffed in her head, rubbing her arms. Whatever it was, if that kid even thought of coming over here again; she'd consider it assault and attack in self-defense.

Well, probably not-- but the thought made her feel better slightly.

[Nikolas James Shadows]

Nik looked over at the girl sitting in the corner, shivering in the cold. She obviously hated him now, but yet… he still felt that urge to tell her everything, to let her see him for who he was: a tired, hurt, 17 year old boy betrayed by the people in his town, who lost everything he had because of it.

“See that crack in the wall over on the wall you’re leaning against? There’s a room in there, it might be a little warmer than it is in here, seeing as the space is smaller. You can go there if you would like, seeing as you’re going to be stuck here for a while.”

Nik heard his voice saying the words, his distinct British accent choosing that moment to act up, but he didn’t know why. Everything that he kept private was back there, everything he didn’t tell people. If she went back there, she’d see it all!

But that’s exactly what I want… Nik realized. He wanted someone to know everything about him. He wanted someone to know who Nik really was. And for all that he had said this girl was mentally weak, though she was when it came to other people’s emotions, in all other areas, she was probably the strongest person Nik had ever seen. She seemed the kind that understood others. Maybe it was because of her empathetic gift that this was, but the girl seemed to know how others felt, even if she hadn’t been there. She seemed the kind that would be able to relate to what others had gone through, and maybe even see how what had happened had changed them to what they were today.

Nik knew that if the girl walked through the crack to his room, he would be exposed. He wouldn’t be the silent, standing in the shadows boy that he had been anymore. He would be brought into the light for all to see, even if that all was just one girl. Nik knew he wanted that girl to walk through the crack, to walk into the room and see his drawings, his writings, all those things he had done so that he would never forget the past, never forget the pain human beings had put him through. He wanted her to see the sketches and paintings of the burning house, flames gulping the hard wood, leaping from the windows, while a thunder storm raged all around. He wanted her to see the pictures of Melanie, the girl he had left behind when his life was burned away. He wanted her to see the pictures of the house, nothing more than a pile of ashes, as life continued to walk and pass all around, no one even giving the pile of ashes that had once been a beautiful manor a passing glance. He wanted her to see the pictures of Nicolae, his big brotherly look of love and endurance ever present on his face. Most of all, Nik wanted her to see his writings. He wanted her to see the accounts of the burning that he had written, his accounts on everything that had happened before and after. He wanted her to see how he felt as he saw the flames coming, how he felt to hear the screams of his parents (even if they hadn’t ever bothered with him, it still hurt, terribly) as he ran from the house. He wanted her to see how badly he hurt from the flames that had seared his hands, burning, boiling the skin right off of him, forever scarring him, condemning him to a life of wearing gloves. He wanted her to see how no one even cared that the manor was gone, how no one cared that the family that had once lived there were no more, their screams vanishing into the night wind. Nik wanted his life to be exposed, all at once, to someone. Nik wanted someone to know how it was that he felt, why he was as bad as he was. He wanted someone who would understand him, someone who would know what he had gone through. Nik wanted a friend.

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“And all are not what they appear."

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Ears twitching from the sudden sound of his voice, Robin lifted her head up, staring at the older boy for several long seconds, eyes betraying nothing. For all she knew, something could be up, this could be nothing but a cruel game for her to play—but his voice, his dull and hardly noticeable emotions, were sincere, as much as Robin didn’t want to believe it. So, Robin did one thing, and one thing only.

She closed her eyes.

Blue. All around. The world had been painted a transparent blue, white, and black. She was in the barn, seeing everything in an almost inferred-lighting. Without her physical body twitching in the slightest, Robin gazed around—looking for this crack in the wall that he was talking about. The wall was black, like the rest of the walls, but different somehow. Robin pushed through the wall and phased to the other side, something she could always do when looking around in the world of colors and emotions. There… there was a room here! How could she not have noticed it before?

Robin opened her eyes, and the pupiless glowing neon-blue they turned when exploring the world of emotions like that flashed a moment, before returning back to normal. Not giving the teen in the rafters a second glance, Robin stood up wobbly, rubbing her arms. She set her hand against the wood, took a moment to find the crack he had been talking about, and pushed—the door surprisingly opening quite smoothly and quickly.

Man. It’s like a personal apartment in here! Robin entered slowly, leaving the door behind her open a crack, as to not lock herself in—but to keep the cool air out. It was still cold in here, but less so than outside. But it wasn’t too bad, and Robin would deal. If she really got on the verge of hypothermia, she’d try to muster up the strength for another force-field and walk out into the ra—no. She’d make a fire and burn the roof down. Robin grinned to herself at the quite unrealistic thought, and gazed around the room, smile fading as quickly as it had come.

[Nikolas James Shadows]

Nik watched the girl walk to his secret door and enter. He walked to the stairs leading to the room and stopped at the corner where he was still out of sight, yet able to see the room. She had a smile on her face, obviously liking whatever thought was in her mind...then the smile dropped.

She was looking at his pictures, her expression showing her confusion, her seemingly horror at the graphic images he had made. He had left out no detail, no little thing about what had happened. They weren't pretty, at all, and his pain and feeling of betrayal were evident in them.

Nik waited for the girl to speak, wanting to see what she would say about the things she saw. He didn't want to frighten her away or make up her mind about anything. She needed to have her own thoughts about this, her own ideas about this.

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“Art is not living. It is the use of living."

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Art. Was... was he an artist?

Countless photos upon photos, drawings, and writings... Robin knew she probably shouldn't be staring at his stuff like this (assuming it was his stuff). But art was not an emotion, although some of the greatest artists would argue, so Robin was grateful that he decided to tell her about his life this way-- even though she couldn't possibly understand what he had gone through. She had lost her mother, but not her entire family. She still had her father, her sister, and her friends here at the Academy.

"Do you have nothing?" Robin asked simply, turning around to stare at the wall where the boy lay concealed. One plus about being an empath-- you know where everyone is all the time. There was no anger in her voice, no resentment-- just a simple concern, with a hint of sadness. There was always curiosity, uncertainty, and a little fear, though-- what did he hope to accomplish with this? What did he have planned?

The older teenager was certainly a challenge, very, very, good at concealing his emotions-- and Robin was glad of it. She, her presence, had obviously stirred up some unwanted memories-- and now she was paying the price for it.