Who: Nico Robin (Robin Nico) and Jonathan Harker What: Meeting After Hours When: Tonight Where:Remember Yesterday Rating/Warnings: Low/None Status: Complete
You’d think that Jonathan was headed to a Secret Society meeting, all cloaked in shadows and secrets - but no, it was simply a nighttime ‘party in the antiques store.’ Two-person party, to be exact, since it was late enough to be past the typical store hours, however, Robin was kind enough to do him a favor and meet him at Remember Yesterday - all thanks to her news that the divination gemstones he’d been interested in had arrived, and upon hearing that you’d think he’d won the lottery. Rather, he was excited to see how these worked once he gave them to Zelda and she had a chance to get used to them. Even if they ended up not being functional to her at all, he imaged that they were at least aesthetically pleasing. Still, he hoped that she found some use in them.
The reason why, however, that he was skulking about at night was because he physically could not be in the sun anymore. Not that he wanted to actively test the theory, but as it stood, both garlic and holy relics tended to repulse him - both could even severely harm him if he was exposed for too long, so it stood to reason that he shouldn’t tempt the light of day by being out in it. Besides that, he felt the pull toward a more nocturnal schedule anyway - and would settle into it soon enough.
Not wanting to startle Robin, or break in rudely, he went to the front door and knocked to let her know he was there. He didn’t even look that different, really, not yet - with the end to the transition, that would bring what was commonly referred to as bloodlust, along with the telltale pallor to his skin and the general handsomely ‘undead’ appearance, but for now, all the differences remained inward rather than outward. The most startling one being the enhanced senses - he could sense her heartbeat even from here, and that troubled him a little.
All he heard these days were heartbeats. A whole chorus of temptations.
Robin looked up from her curry and rice when she heard the knock on the door to her shop. She peered around the shelves in the middle of her shop towards the door and smiled seeing Jonathan standing there. She appreciated the knock. She hadn’t technically kept the shop open. She had switched off her open sign several hours before and locked up. After going through that day’s receipts and balancing the amount of cash in the ancient register that dominated her counter with the sales recorded in her iPad, she had gone out to fetch dinner.
Knowing Jonathan would arrive sometime after sunset, Robin had brought her dinner back to the store to wait for him. She had left it on the counter and had gone back into the break room to put on a pot of coffee. She didn’t know if Jonathan would want (or be able to drink) any, but decided to make enough for the two of them to have a couple of cups if they wanted. It wasn’t long before the pleasant aroma of brewing coffee filled the store. Then she had gotten distracted in her back store room for about an hour or so before she remembered her dinner was waiting for her.
She had put on her traveling mix over the store’s speakers to listen to while she ate her dinner and waited for her friend. An eclectic mix of classical, jazz and blues with a little Judas Priest sprinkled in-between.
Robin smiled and waved at Jonathan and made a motion for him to wait for her to unlock the door. She set her fork down before she slid off her stool and made her way to the door.
“Good evening, Jonathan,” she greeted him as she opened the door. The bells overhead jingled their good evening greeting to the late guest. Robin smiled at him as she motioned for him to come inside.
The scent of curry was what he picked up on first and foremost - it was the ginger and cumin most of all, and then coffee assaulted his senses next (he had always liked the scent of it), followed by what you’d expect an antique store to smell like. Musty, dusty, hidden treasures uncovered - it was pleasant, in a way, because it was familiar, despite being mixed with everything else. At least Jonathan had somewhat learned how to filter out sounds - smells were another story but with sounds, he had no choice there. It was either that or walk around with earmuffs or his hands on his head trying to hold his leaking brain in because he couldn’t stand the overstimulation.
“Robin, hi,” he smiled, sweet and endearing as he tended to be - you wouldn’t ever know, really. Not unless he chose to tell you. Granted, in that smile, the appearance of sleek fangs were new - they hadn’t been there before, and when they were exposed they might have looked a little intimidating. “Thanks for letting me stop by so late, I appreciate it. Definitely will owe you one later. How are you?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Robin answered with a wave of her hand. She closed and locked the door behind Jonathan after he had entered the store. “I’m well. I’m sorry, I should have finished dinner before you got here, but I got lost in the back room.” She laughed lightly.
Her eyes, of course, had caught on that glint of fang in Jonathan’s smile, making what had once been sweet and sincere look dangerous. Robin, however, found it fascinating. She had been warned vampires were about here in Orange County, though she could have hardly believed it at the time. She had been warned to be weary of them, but how could Robin ever be weary of Jonathan Harker? He was a friend. Robin trusted him.
She did have to keep herself from looking too closely, from reaching up to feel them to prove to herself that they were real. That would have been rude, if not completely inappropriate, even for good friends. Oh, she had so many questions she was just dying to ask. But first, the task at hand.
“Please come on back, I want to show you what I’ve found!” Excitedly she wrapped her arm around Jonathan and guided him through the store towards the back store room.
Her enthusiasm was certainly catching. Jonathan chuckled a little, letting himself be spirited away to the back room where, he assumed, the pirate plunder lay in wait. Or actually, Robin was the pirate out of the two of them, so surely she’d managed to obtain the very best in trinkets, and bits and bobs. “Yes, yes, definitely show me,” he encouraged. “I was quite excited when you told me that someone else actually possessed divination gems. In fact, I was beginning to think that what I read about them was just a myth.”
A joke, of course, since he’d done more research on the subject. Turns out that gemstones vibrated with ‘energy’ that the average person really couldn’t see, but those with a gift of prophecy and divination could tap into that energy and use it to guide their decisions. Each stone meant something different - citrine was travel, rose quartz meant love and friendship, garnet could be change or anger and passion. Then supposedly you put them into a bag and shook them up, then took them out and arranged them - where they were placed and what type of stone it was determined the outcome. Very strange, but interesting.
“Well, I was told they were divination gems,” Robin answered with an amount of caution in her voice. “Divination and such is not my area of expertise and I’m limited only by what I’ve managed to get in passing from history of certain areas. I attempted to educate myself a little on the matter, but I had no idea the vast amount of information available out there.” She let go of Jonathan’s arm when they entered the backroom. “It is a fascinating subject, though. I wasn’t sure what exactly the type of stones your friend needed, so I tried to get a variety.”
Robin left Jonathan just inside the door to the backroom and moved towards a little roll top desk where Robin kept her ledgers and the necessities needed for the business end of her antique store. Above the desk and just to the right was a wall safe. It usually sat empty save for a few documents that were vital to the store and Robin’s certification as an antique dealer. This evening, however, there was something else inside.
Robin entered the code and opened the safe to retrieve the blue velvet bag that had arrived earlier that week. It was heavier than she’d expected and held quite a number of stones, more than she’d anticipated. Concerned that it somehow would become lost among the treasures in the storage room (despite Robin’s attempts at keeping it as organized as possible) or accidentally placed out front, Robin had placed the bag in the safe to wait for Jonathan’s arrival.
She opened the bag and peered inside. Content that the number of stones held within were the same number that had been there when she’d last seen it, she brought it back to Jonathan. “There you are,” she said with a smile. “I hope they are to your friend’s liking.”
She caught herself looking at his mouth again. She couldn’t help herself. She smiled a little embarrassedly. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Please forgive me, Jonathan.”
The fact that Robin went to such great lengths to ensure the safety of Jonathan’s special order, what would be a gift for Zelda, was actually sort of warming within the cockles of his heart, even in the dregs where a slumbering dragon had made a home. He carefully took the velvet bag, peeking within to catch the glitter and shimmer of the selection of gemstones. There were thirteen unique kinds, from crystal quartz to black obsidian to citrine; they were all really quite pretty, and he was pleased with the find - he was also more than hopeful than they’d be a perfect fit for Zelda.
“These are wonderful. Thank you,” he praised, and lifted green eyes from the collection of stones back to Robin, another grin that exposed the fangs - but this time, yes, he caught her curiosity. Could sense it, like it was the elephant in the room - or the vampire in the room.
Quasi-vampire. Caught in an interesting state of limbo. But it was a difficult transition period for everyone involved - he wouldn’t dream of rushing things.
“Oh, right...you probably have questions,” he surmised, looking sheepish. “I’m not going to eat you, if you’re worried.” Mostly, he was kidding - of course Robin knew that. He’d never hurt any of his friends.
“Eat me?” Robin blinked and then laughed. “Of course I don’t think that! Vampires don’t eat people. Zombies eat people. Vampires suck blood. And I trust that you won’t be sucking mine. Although,” she put a finger to her chin thoughtfully, “there are some eastern myths of vampirism that do include eating the living rather than simply sucking their blood. Have you ever heard of the jumping vampires, Jonathan? Japanese folklore tell of people binding the bodies of their dead and those dead rising again out of their graves. Instead of being able to run after their prey they had to hop after them instead.”
She patted Jonathan’s arm and lead him from the store room. “I do have questions,” she said. “I didn’t want to be rude and say anything right away. I imagine this is quite an” she paused looking for the right word, “adjustment for you. A deeply personal one at that, but,” she stopped at the door to the break room and turned towards him. “If you’d like to talk about it, I would like that very much.”
She paused again, tilting her head just slightly in a thoughtful way as she regarded him. She smiled kindly and stepped back towards him to take his hand. “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’m not afraid of you. I could never be. I like you, Jonathan, and if I can help you adjust to your new life, I’d like to. Why don’t we have a seat in the breakroom for a bit and talk?” She gestured with her other hand towards the door to her right. “I have a pot of coffee on, or I can make some tea. Are you able to have either?”
“Jumping vampires, no, that’s one I haven’t heard. Even veritable wells of silly facts and knowledge have new things to learn. One of the beautiful parts of life, no?” he responded, erring on the side of amused. Robin’s own penchant for sharing random tidbits was why she was a kindred spirit - for Jonathan, he had a tendency to do the same. It was nice being around someone who could appreciate such things, and volley back with facts they had at the ready, even.
The break room sounded good though; he tucked the bag of gemstones within his jacket, giving Robin’s hand a squeeze when she took his own - the same temperature he always had been, wasn’t giving off a chill quite yet. “Coffee’s usually my poison of choice, and I can still drink it,” he assured her. “I’ll be able to even after I...fully transition, but it just won’t do much for me. At least not in the way it does now.” Most food and drink wouldn’t - even currently, he could feel the subtle craving, whispers of a hungry beast within, but he wasn’t tipped full onto the scales of bloodlust and requiring blood to survive quite yet. “Lead the way, then.”
Robin was surprised, but pleased to find his hand still warm. Would that change too after he’d become a true vampire? Robin knew that it would. No myth ever said that a vampire remained warm. Death, a constant no matter the culture, was always cold and a vampire was the embodiment of death.
For the first time since learning of her friend’s current situation, Robin felt a pang of sadness. She didn’t dare let it show for Jonathan’s sake.
“I admit I have a bit of an addiction to coffee myself,” Robin said. She guided Jonathan into the small breakroom. There was a little table with two chairs to sit an eat. On a small shelf was a microwave and under that a mini fridge where Robin and her employees kept their lunches (as well as coffee creamer). On the opposite wall was a shelf where Robin had a very nice looking coffee maker already with a warm pot of coffee. “I’m pleased to meet someone else who shares that addiction. So far several of the people I’ve met on the network drink tea.”
Despite what she said, there were tea tins on the shelf next to the coffee maker, more than usual as that was what Leon often drank when he came for a visit.
“Have a seat,” Robin said. “How would you like your coffee this evening?”
Long limbs folded with a semblance of grace, a cat curling up on a piano, to sit in one of the offered chairs. “Just a little cream is good,” he said, a pleased expression touching his features. “Coffee is life force - it was what got me through both my undergraduate studies and law school. Though granted, cigarettes helped too. I just have quit those, as you know.”
And Jonathan was proud that he had - it was healthier overall, and he didn’t want to be a vampire with a nicotine addiction. Blood was slated to be enough of a struggle, surely. “But I know what you mean, I seem to have mostly tea-drinkers in my life as well.” Vlad kept the Turkish coffee at his place mostly for Jonathan’s sake whereas if he was going to drink tea at all it was English breakfast, and Zelda was certainly one to prefer tea over coffee too.
“Good for you,” Robin smiled at him happily. “A friend of my mother’s used to smoke a pipe. This man had traveled all over the most rural parts of southeast asia on his various expeditions, but he once told my mother that quitting his pipe was the hardest challenge he ever had to face.” She poured Jonathan his coffee first. She placed it on the table in front of him before fetching the creamer from the little fridge.
“Does Vlad drink a tea as well?” she asked as she poured her own coffee next. It seemed like a good question to segue into their conversation about Jonathan’s current situation.
“I believe it,” Jonathan laughed a little, taking the coffee with a thanks. He slid it toward him, hands wrapped around the cup to let the pleasant heat seep in. “There’s something scholarly about smoking a pipe though. The smell of it is pleasant too, not sure why. Comforting, in a sense.” It tended to invoke ‘grandfatherly’ sort of vibes - or at least it did for Jonathan, reminded him of his own, who would puff on the pipe tobacco occasionally for family get-togethers. Sweeter and more relaxing than cigarettes; it would definitely be difficult to give that up and most people who smoked a pipe were never in a hurry - it was just a funny sort of thing.
He sipped the caffeinated ambrosia, after blowing on it a little for a cooling effect. Never would he tire of coffee - likely an appreciation for the taste was ingrained within his being. “Vlad? Yes, he drinks tea...sometimes. He partly grew up in London, so the English breakfast reminds him of that, I think. But generally he doesn’t keep much, uh, human food at his place. Just the essentials.”
“My mother only drinks earl grey,” Robin chuckled. “All day every day. I’m not sure where I get my penchant for coffee from. Certainly not her. She jokes that she rues the day I discovered it.”
After discovering a little tin of cookies in one of the cabinets, Robin slid into the seat across from Jonathan. She wrapped her hands around her mug and regarded him carefully tilting her head thoughtfully one way and then another. How to start this conversation and keep it so it didn’t turn into her grilling poor Jonathan. What was it Dr. Clover used to tell her? If you find yourself faced with an unfamiliar puzzle and all you have are questions, it’s best to start where everything starts: the beginning.
But just where was the beginning, Robin wondered. That depended on how far back she wanted to go. Not too terribly far, she surmised. “When did it happen?” She asked at last.
The beginning was a place that was as good enough as any. Jonathan wouldn’t be sure where else to start - and surprisingly, he didn’t mind the questions. He was actually somewhat grateful that he had a friend who was curious rather than revolted - though none of his friends were, really. The reactions ranged from casual acceptance (from the ones who already dabbled in darkness, thanks to the nature of their dreams), to supportive to...well, Zelda felt somewhat guilty. She’d seen this coming, and what she had seen - Jonathan taking the bite - hadn’t occurred yet. But that didn’t stop her from wishing she could change it, he knew.
“A few days ago,” he replied, with a glance downward, then back at Robin once he’d gathered his thoughts. “I dreamed of it, actually. Of killing Dracula’s bride - consort, whatever you want to call her. Of course it angered him, but when I went to kill him too he wasn’t in his coffin. He appeared at the top of the stairs, plunged the room into darkness and then that’s when he bit me. I woke up here...mostly transitioned. I just need the bite, again, the last one.”
The scars on his neck where Vlad bit him the first time, during that week of spell-casted anger, seemed redder and more prominent to Jonathan. Unconsciously, he lifted a hand to them, then let it fall back to his lap.
Robin’s eyes flickered to the spot on his neck where Jonathan’s hand rested, then quickly moved back to his face. She had not noticed them the first time they had met, which Robin had thought a little odd. Usually she was much better at picking up little details like that. However she hadn’t known who Jonathan was at that time and she certainly hadn’t expected to be seeing a vampire bite on a person’s neck. At the time she may have passed them off for bug bites of a kind or some other imperfection of the skin. Now that she was aware of their presence, she felt foolish for not noticing them for what they were sooner.
Her brows furrowed together a little. There was something she needed to clarify before she could go any further. She shifted a little in her chair as she gathered her thoughts. “You currently reside with Vlad, is that correct?” She asked. “He is your partner?” She put a little extra emphasis on the word ‘partner’ to indicate its significance. Robin had always disliked using that word in place of lover or significant other. It seemed much too informal to signify a romantic relationship of any kind and could be easily mistaken to be anything but. However, she was respectful that there were those who prefered the term for various reasons.
He honestly didn’t think there was a term to describe what he had with Vlad - boyfriend was juvenile, even Vlad hated the term, sometimes he personally used companion but Jonathan thought that made him sound like a dog. Jokingly, of course, he’d tease about it. Partner just seemed to be the most acceptable, and it worked. No one actually called their significant other their ‘lover’ out loud anymore, did they?
Though he supposed that was fitting too.
“Yes,” he let out an amused chuff of air at the emphasis from Robin. “Paramour, if you’d rather use that word. It’s all the same, in this case. But we don’t live together yet. Talked about it, recently though. I’m sure it’ll happen at some point.” After things got settled, of course. Than Jonathan paused before speaking up again, a bit hesitant. “It’s...hard for him too. For a few reasons. He never asked for any of this, for what happened to him, how he changed...or to be the one to be responsible for my own change too.” A burden carried from another life, one so far off, one he did not remember.
Robin would have used the term lover, but she was something of a romantic that way. However, terminology was the least of her concerns now. Her lips pursed together and tugged her mouth downwards into something of a frown. The entire ordeal seemed rather unpleasant from where she sat. That these two men drawn to each other in this life should be mortal enemies bent on harming, even killing, each other in another was heartbreaking. Her curiosity to know how each of their dreams effected their lives she was a more than a little ashamed of, so much so that a bit of color rose up in her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she said shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have pried so deeply.” She tapped her fingernails against her mug a little awkwardly for a moment. “No one on the network has asked for this,” she said a bit quieter. She thought of Leon and of Eggsey and all the others she had met since joining. It was one thing to speak of their experiences over coffee or over the internet. It had been fun, really, listening to the others’ experiences. They were so much like stories. But this was the first time Robin had seen the actual consequences of these Dreams. It didn’t seem fair. In fact, it seemed cruel to her.
There were plenty of moments where Jonathan questioned how much any of this mattered - if they had all been recycled from one life to the next, and were now remembering a former existence that wasn’t just a fever dream, but instead solid memories of a whole other universe where things were different. What would happen after they died here? Would they meet again, in another time, in another place? Multi-verse theory in play, certainly, and he’d given it a <>lot</i> of consideration, before drawing conclusions.
“No one asked for it, no. And no one had a choice.” He thought of Vlad’s own words, I will try to learn from your steadfast optimism, and god, like Jonathan thought he’d ever be the more optimistic one. In his dreams he was gloomy, no happy endings for him despite being the hero of the piece (one of the heroes, anyway), a foot in the darkness and one in the light - his wife and son being the tethers to both that light, reminders of the goodness in the world, and his own sanity.
But in this life, perhaps he was just practical.
“Every time someone is run down by how horrible their dreams are, and every time something quirky or something terrible happens, all it seems like is that this life takes. But it also gives. It gives us something extraordinary. A second chance, perhaps. And people like you, too. Having that, in this life here, it makes sense why we live through what we do.”
Robin raised her eyes as Jonathan spoke. When he was finished, she sat back in her chair and reflected on what he had said. In all her conversations with Leon and Eggsey, never once had the idea of why crossed her mind. It should have, for certain. She was a curious enough sort to want to know the reasons behind why only members who joined Valar received memories of a different life - past or alternate. Or why people felt compelled to join such an obscure little site, or what compelled them to stay once they saw it was truly about. She had been so caught up in the wonderment of the idea itself that she had forgotten all about questioning the purpose behind it. Dr. Clover would have been disappointed in her.
She liked Jonathan’s idea that they were being given a second chance. A second chance to live their lives they way they wanted to. They may not be able to control what had happened to them in their dreams, but they sure as hell could control what happened to them here and now. For someone who was a criminal in her own dreams, it was a very attractive thought and one she could use to base her own thoughts and opinions on when the time came for her to formulate her own. For now, though, she was content with Jonathan’s sentiment.
She smiled across the table at her friend. “I like that,” she told him. “Being on the network certainly has given me things that I never would have gotten otherwise. Not only my Dreams of being a pirate, but people. My Dream self appears to be alone to wander with no allegiance or loyalty. I do not believe that is what she wanted. Here, I can give her the chance to have those things.” In the meager time she’d been on the network, she had already gained individuals who had quickly become dear to her: Leon, Eggsey, Jonathan... Hopefully Dream Robin would be happy with that.
She straightened in her chair again, her mood significantly improved than it had been a moment before. She picked up her coffee mug and took a first sip. “You are a very wise man, Jonathan Harker. The world of philosophy is a lesser place for not having you in it. I do hope the world of law appreciates the gift they’ve been given.” She winked playfully.
The corners of Jonathan’s mouth tilted upward, a little bashful. Something halfway, that didn’t give a glimpse of the fangs but was genuine in its sincerity. “I’ll stick with Philosophy in my spare time, I think,” he said, uncurling one hand from around the coffee mug so he could lift it to his lips. “It’s always been one of my favorite subjects. But you know, I’m glad that you look back on ‘dream Robin’ and see how lonely she was, how much she was looking for her niche, I gather? You have that chance now and things are different. Our dreams may run their course, and end how they do, but here we’ll write our own ending. It’s something I take comfort in.”
That, and the little things. Like coffee. Time spent with a kindred spirit. It was funny how living in Orange County forced you to stop and smell the roses, to not take simplicity for granted, but that was alright he supposed. A lesson like that, here and there, never hurt anybody.