#robin!

Twinning in the afterlife frfr

Age: 20

Pronouns and Gender: Female-ish (she/they)

Zodiac Sign: idk Taurus?

Romantic Status: Dating

Eye Color: Brown

Hobbies: Knitting?

Introverted

Favorite Season: Autumn.

16 actually!

pronouns: she/her

I'm with a few people, yeah. Phoenix, Del, Anyo Mori (I think she has more to her family-name but she hasn't told me,) and Owl are who I'm traveling with at the moment.

They are... Different from people I have previously traveled with. As long as Del doesn't get caught thieving from anyone with social power - and we don't get ourselves killed - it should be fine.

There was someone else. I hope she's dead.

ANNOUNCEMENT!!! IM DOING F/O TAKEOVER!! Lunatic Psyker, Izaya, Julian, Grimmjow, Robin (and Grima!), Zen, and Mastermind are open for questions this weekend! (All questions... I’ve adjusted my policies folks so don’t hold back...) I’m going to try and draw as many answers as I can!!!

There’s a line when she gets to Scoops Ahoy—because of course there is—and she quietly takes her place at its end, waiting behind giggling teenagers and an indecisive elderly couple before its her turn.

“Ahoy. Welcome to Scoops Ahoy where you can sail the Scoops. What can I get for you today?”

Robin delivers her memorized lines like each word is taking a year off of her life before she realizes, as if she’s just coming out of trance, who’s standing in front of her. 

“Hey Max.” Robin never smiles all that much, but her lips turn up slightly at the younger girl. Max remains with her eyes downcast, her hair hanging over her face. “Your usual?” Robin continues, already moving toward the Rocky Road.

Max shakes her head numbly. “No. Is Steve here?” 

“He’s on break,” Robin replies, her hand hovering, frozen over the ice cream tub. She runs her tongue over her lips, evaluating Max’s body language. The slumped shoulders, the hidden face, the (barely visible) red eyes. It’s familiar to Robin—the same way she looked after her breakup with Kevin McGregor in ninth grade. The memory almost makes her roll her eyes, but she catches herself. 

First love is tough, especially when it ends. The way it cuts at your heart; at your stomach. Makes it feel like the world is ending.

“You okay?” Robin asks, careful to keep her tone gentle, sincere. 

“I—” Max licks her lips, “I just wanted to talk to Steve.” 

“Well you can—”

“Do you mind?” A man’s annoyed voice rings out from behind Max, causing her shoulders to tense even further. “We’re in a hurry.”

Robin glances up briefly, unfazed and eyes bored, before turning her attention back to Max. “Wanna come back here? Steve should be back soon. Probably went to buy more hairspray.”

The ghost of a smile crosses what little of Max’s face she can see. Without a word, Robin drops the ice cream scoop and comes around to open the counter, ignoring the loud sighs of her frustrated customer—and maybe enjoying them just a tiny bit. 

Alone, Max waits, seated on an overturned milk crate just inside the cash office, fingers playing with the frayed knee of her jeans. 

“Maxine?” Steve’s teasing voice makes her look up, his smile dying halfway on its way up his lips as he notices the puffiness around her eyes, the way her cheeks show the valleyed paths of tears. In a moment he’s by her side, muttering curses, a plastic bag swinging from his wrist. 

“What happened? Are you okay? Was it—” His mind is already racing with all the ways he wants to kill Billy Hargrove. 

“I’m fine” Max insists, hardly convincingly. She pushes him away, “I just needed someplace to hang out.”

“What about Lucas’s place?” Steve asks. Max’s breath hitches in her throat. She glares, as hard as she can make herself, at Steve and his absolutely cluelessness. 

“This isn’t about Billy,” Max sighs, gesturing weakly to herself. “Lucas and me—we—fought. I think we broke up.” 

Steve’s frown, if possible, deepens. He remembers, vaguely, the crappy advice he gave Dustin in the fall and decides against opening his mouth. Instead he pulls his work hat from the plastic bag—which, Max quietly notes, does have a bottle of hairspray in it—and sets it atop Max’s head, rumpling her hair. 

“You’re gonna be okay, dork,” Steve assures her, “Things’ll work out.”