Will vs Woes pv Sinclair Carver Finished

Having been so lost in her own thoughts swirling throughout her head, it had taken Robin a moment to realize another person had entered the owlery. Usually, having another person around while Robin felt so vulnerable would have her immediately schooling her face and fleeing as soon as possible. Robin liked to be alone. She liked to wander alone. Liked to read alone. And most certainly liked to sulk alone. So it was a surprise to even her when her eyes settled on the student with a beautiful tawny owl resting on their arm. From the angle Robin was at, she could observe the owl and its owner freely. The student had an androgynous look about them - jet black hair, slightly unruly, and porcelain skin. They wore a white poet shirt and a black vest - the Victorian-style clothes matched perfectly with the owlery's gothic architecture. Something about how they affectionately scratched their owl's fluffy chin with the fondness of two close friends had eased the red-hot flame burning in Robin's gut. As the student tossed a rat toward the bird, she caught a glimpse of a taller girl's soft, feminine face and cat-like eyes and recognized her as a Gryffindor.

Robin decided she'd stared long enough. Taking a deep breath and snuggling deeper into her winter robes, Robin found that she once again had the ability to move. Finally approaching the alcove closest to her, and incidentally, nearby the girl who was now busying herself with a parcel her owl had dropped off, Robin approached a cozy-looking barn owl. Its eyes were closed and its wings tucked in tight. Robin pulled out her letter, looking at the crumpled envelope and wax seal, and sighed, shoving it into the pocket of her bag. With a new task in mind, Robin ignored the bird and dropped onto the stone floor, grabbing her bag, and pulling out the book she had been reading since Christmas break. Something about the atmosphere - the brisk air that filled her lungs, the soft vocalizations from the bird in the room, and even the comforting silence the girl who hadn't reacted to Robin's shutdown had put her in a near meditative state. There weren't many people at this damned school that would mind their own business so thoroughly - Robin was grateful for it. She didn't trust people easily - if the girl had tried to offer her any kind of comfort, Robin would have immediately assumed that she had something she wanted from her.

Kicking up her feet to rest her chin on her knees, Robin's eyes moved across the same line six times over. Her mind was too filled with questions. The most pressing of which was of utmost importance to her. Robin, perfectly sorted into the house of Ravenclaw for her innate curiosity, couldn't help herself but to break the stilled silence with her own indulgence.

"What's your owl's name?" Robin asked, her voice cracking on the first word, and without lifting her eyes from the page. Clearing her throat, she added, "She's Gorgeous." Her attention was stuck on the word 'Ephemera.' She wasn't completely sure what it meant, but she liked the word. The spelling was just as pleasing as the fresh, cool air and the resounding hoots surrounding her. The question hung in the air like a tether - gentle and deliberate. The silence carried on, but Robin didn't mind. She'd never mind the silence. She almost wished the girl wouldn't respond, so she didn't have to explain herself. The word 'Ephemera' echoed in her head like a promise, keeping her rooted in the moment, ears waiting patiently for a response to her inquiry.

When the Gryffindor told Robin the name of her owl, Mr. Montague, she let a soft smile slip onto her face. Robin thought of her own pet, Tabitha, and how she had been chittering at the birds outside the Ravenclaw Tower's windows that morning. Her tail had been flicking with the sass equivalent of Robin's younger sister, Samantha. The eight-year-old had been ecstatic when Robin brought the tiny kitten inside their house on Christmas Day - the two had clicked instantly. She remembered how the feisty tabby had pawed at the little girl and how the girl had pawed right back. Robin's mother had called it the "sass off," perfectly describing the two who held Robin's heart the tightest. 

Adjusting herself amongst the muck on the floor, Robin finally lost herself in her book - it was a gothic fantasy where the dead didn't rest, but lingered, in a town named Halvemoore. The grand bell from a chapel tower rang every night, calling all spirits back to their resting place. The main character, Ansel Everynn, was a badass heroine who could commune with the dead. When the chapel bell fails to ring one night, Ansel must speak with the remaining spirits to determine the fate of the town's future. 

Robin was once again deep into Ansels's adventure. She had just discovered the absence of the town bell. She learned from the spirits around her that it had been stolen. They would not rest again until the bell was returned, which was a problem. The people of Halvemoore were slowly noticing the presence of spirits and blaming Ansel, known for being a medium. The sooner she could solve the mystery, the sooner she would be able to stop watching her back. 

Robin's eyes flew across the pages as she took in every word. She was speeding through, issues completely forgotten until her eyes landed on a single word on the page that she hadn't expected.

Dad. 

Ansel was talking to her dad's spirit. 

Dad. 

Robin closed her eyes, senses of her surroundings enveloping her once more as she took another deep breath. Death - the ultimate goodbye. She'd only had two significant deaths in her life. The first was a frenchie pup the family had when she was younger, who had been killed by a car around the time she turned seven. It was incredibly heartbreaking - the entire family had loved that dog fiercely, especially since he died at the age of six - it was way too soon, a tragedy due to a simple mistake due to an open gate.

She'd also lost a friend named Sammy in school who had died from a nasty fight against Leukemia at age 10. They hadn't been close, but the two students always sat in the beanbag set in the back of the classroom during downtime. Her in the purple bag - Sammy in the red. The two would sit in comfortable silence, a book in both hands and not a single word passed between them. Robin considered that to be as close of a friend that she'd ever had before attending Hogwarts. 

But Sammy died. And the school had a mural of his face in the entrance hall that she never got to see because she ended up getting her letter to Hogwarts. Robin remembered being told in that exact class that she shared with Sammy what had happened, and she recalled the confused blink and the look toward the Purple and Red beanbags in the corner of the room. She had felt a tightness in her spine since that day - the need to appreciate the smaller moments she could have. Those fleeting moments she held onto with her old friend Sammy, who lived the most ephemeral of lives, were some of the ones that drew her to always follow her daily whims. The avoidance of the letter burning in the pocket of her bag suddenly became way too loud and apparent, causing Robin to slam her book shut. 

She abruptly stood from her position on the floor, not bothering to wipe off the muck and poop that was settled on her skirts, and snatched out the letter to her father one more time out of her bag. Her resolve was solid this time. She didn't care how pitiful and needy it made her look - she would send her letter, and her father would respond. She had to hope - what else could she do? The barn owl had hooted in indignation, chest puffed out and feathers completely ruffled. 

"How do you feel about a long flight, hmm?" Robin asked softly, a smirk on her face growing at the owl's continued irritation directed at her for disturbing his nap. "It's not my fault that you weren't prepared. How's this - when you return, I'll make sure to have an extra special treat for you - how's that sound?" 

With the owl's appeasement, Robin tied her crumpled note to the owl's foot, ignoring the side eye the bird gave her at the crumpled condition of the letter. She shrugged - if she was exposing herself, her dad would get the entire truth. The truth that included her anger, especially at the fact that he hadn't sent her any money. Granted, it wouldn't have been useful while at school, but she'd be going home over the summer! What an irritation. 

"He's a muggle, so don't expect him to send a message back. Come right back after you drop it off, okay?" He'd be able to respond through her mam just like before.

Robin had just sent the owl off when she heard a soft voice from the girl occupied with her own package. "...That muggle you're sending that letter to... They're in for quite a surprise if they've never gotten a letter via owl..." Robin turned her head to the side, eyeing the girl with a knowing smirk on her face. Now that she wasn't struggling with the inner turmoil of extending a hand to her father, she could appreciate the other student's appearance more. Her eyes caught on the light-hazel coloring of the girl's irises, feeling momentarily lost in the cat-like resemblance that had her aching to race to her dorm for a cuddle with Tabby.

"I hope he pisses himself," Robin said bluntly, breaking eye contact and making her way toward the exit, boots scuffing stone. Robin couldn't help but grin with satisfaction at the thought of an owl bursting into her father's home and scaring the absolute shit out of him. She even hoped that his new family was around so they could see the chaos unfold. She hoped that he opened her letter with trembling fingers, not sure what to expect when he unfolded the crumpled-up letter with her uncharacteristically nice words and a plea for money scripted in ink. She hoped she would bring him as much confusion and angst as she's felt in the year he's been gone.

Robin paused momentarily at the threshold, taking her time to feel the light breeze on her skin. Something about the owlery was always so comforting to Robin. Maybe it was the association with writing to her sister Sam. Perhaps the tower's height and openness allured her - the combination of thrill and freedom in the air. A deep sense of serenity overwhelmed Robin - a stark difference to how she first entered the room. Clearing her throat, Robin stated to the room, hoping the other girl would understand that she was talking to her despite Robin's backside facing her.

"I'm Robin." The words were clipped, self-assured, tossed over her shoulder. Not feeling the need to stick around, Robin hesitated for another moment before adding, "See you around."

Sinclair. A spark of recognition ran through Robin at the name, reminding her of the classes the two had previously shared. How had Robin not noticed her before? She seemed exactly the type of person Robin would have wanted to befriend - a feeling she wasn't quite used to, despite having a somewhat social life at Hogwarts. Robin has had two good friends at the school and a handful of acquaintances. Two friends are certainly an upgrade to the whopping zero friends she had back home in Wales - unless you counted her younger sister, of course, who was an automatic best friend. Her two friends were juxtapositions to her - outgoing, charismatic, and lively. She'd clung so tightly to the idea of finding people different from herself who could drag her out of her shell. In some ways, it worked.

Odette taught her the nuances of customer satisfaction, which Robin was certainly not interested in. Her personality had nothing to do with whatever stupid product Odette was trying to sell - either they wanted to buy it or they didn't.

Mikey was one of those people everyone loved - he was always laughing with someone and had an easy-going smile on his face. Robin liked to tease out his darker side now and again, finding solace in a kindred spirit and lover of the night.

Two had been more than enough for her then, already testing the limits of her preference for solitude. But now Robin was standing at the threshold, wanting to say something more but not knowing how to express interest. Befriending Mikey was easy - she gave him a tarot reading the first night at school, and they had been on good terms ever since. Befriending Odette? That was different. Robin had stalked her housemate for nearly two weeks before ever uttering a peep to the girl. Trust didn't come easily to her, and knowing everything she possibly could before approaching made it so she couldn't be surprised. Somehow, it ended up endearing her to the girl. Robin supposed Odette had a few loose screws like her.

Any other day, Robin would have tried to say more. Express more. People always took her lack of interest to mean that she was shy - but shy, Robin was not.

You seem cool, wanna hang out? Is all she would have to say and her simple truth would be out there.

But not today. Today, Robin just wanted to go to her dorm to scratch her cat behind the ear and think about her father getting kicked in the nuts because an owl pooped on his lover's head. Without another word, Robin fled down the stone spiral staircase, boots scuffing on stone, and a persistent curiosity in the back of her mind, wondering just what kind of friend Sinclair could be.