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1 Robin on Sat Apr 20, 2013 3:57 pm


I did a bunch of writing last night. I felt like writing a story about someone... interesting. While ML might think this had something to do with the discussion he and I were having on thursday, this is going a bit beyond that.

I want to know what the readers will get from reading this, specifically:
-What do you imagine Robin as looking like? Give me a solid description.
-How about Victor?
-What can you glean about the universe this is set in? Anything strike you as odd?
-Some parts of this story become fairly obvious. What parts do you really notice?

Download the PDF here: https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/28014061/Robin.pdf

Or read it online here. (I recommend the PDF because the online version has awful formatting.)


The man sat at the table, slowly eating his pancakes, savoring every bite. He didn’t bother to look around, there were families all over the diner around him and they were of little importance to his routine. A mother with her kids, a man and his girlfriend smiling and laughing, a teenage girl reading a book in the far back corner of the room. Typical things one would expect to find in a colorful family restaurant like this one. While pancakes were one of his favorite foods, they weren’t really the reason he was here.
A short fat man stepped into the diner, his gait awkward, his chubby fingers fumbling with some papers as he wrinkled his nose and pushed the glasses up on his face. If one were forced to make a snap judgment at gunpoint, they could safely assume that he was no woman’s moist dream, unless she was into money and nothing else. Judging by his pinstripe suit with the silver lapel and expensive black shoes, it wasn’t something he was lacking.
The fat man glanced around the room, taking in all the people. When his eyes passed across the man eating his pancakes, a hint of recognition appeared in them and he glanced at one of the papers in his hand. Probably a photo or something. The fat man walked over to the table and sat down, holding out his hand. “Ah, erm, you must be Robin?” he held his hand out, obviously expecting the other man to return the greeting. He did not. The fat man realized the gesture had been foolish and pulled his hand back, an embarrassed expression covering his face.
“Yeah, that’s what they call me.” Said Robin, taking another slow bite of his pancakes. “Of course, it doesn’t mean much anymore.”
“O-oh? I didn’t know there was a reason for the name. Never mind that though.” The fat man started shuffling his papers and flipping through them one by one, looking for something of some significance. “I can’t remember how long it’s been, but it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, eh, Robin.”
“Yeah, wonderful.” Mumbled Robin as he polished off the last of his meal. He made a motion with a finger and a waitress in her mid 40’s came over. “Can I get a check please.” The way he phrased it wasn’t a question, but a clear statement. She nodded at him with a wink. “No problem sweetcheeks, always a pleasure to serve ya.” She flitted off to grab the check and after she did, the fat man appeared to have finally found what he was looking for.
“Ah, here it is.” He smiled and held out a paper for Robin to grab. “Oh yes, I didn’t get to introduce myself yet, my name is…” Robin heard the name and instantly forgot it. The name wasn’t important; as far as Robin was concerned this man’s identity was ‘The Fat Man’ and nothing else. He grabbed the papers and ignored the rest of what the man was stuttering about, it was never important, just some social niceties.
Robin eyed the paper, making note of many different things mentally and thinking of how significant this day was compared to other days he had recently experienced. “It says October of 1932. What was the exact day?”
“Oh uhm, I apologize, I don’t know the exact day. I just know it was somewhere about 6 years ago...” The fat man started tapping one finger on the table while he talked, a clear sign of an impatient person. Robin hated impatient people. He’d spent years tracking this paper down and this guy was acting like the world was going to blow up in a few minutes if Robin didn’t speed up his day. Hell, maybe it would.
“I guess you kept up your end of the deal.” Muttered Robin. “Here’s what’s promised.” Robin reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out an envelope and handed it to the fat man. “Now if you don’t mind, I need you to leave. Unless you’d prefer we be seen together.”
The fat man shifted his sitting position and glanced around. “Y-yes of course, I would hate to inconvenience you any further, ah, Mister… Robin. I’ll just be, ah, on my way.” He slid out of his chair, gathered up his papers and the envelope, and caught himself about to hold out his hand again before quickly making his way out the door.
Robin examined the papers again. After years of searching he’d finally found what he was looking for, now it was only a matter of time before they came for him. In the meantime he reached into his coat and pulled out a pocket watch. 8:49 AM, he had certainly chosen a good Sunday to get plenty of rest for. Rising from his table, he dropped five bucks down. That would be enough to cover the meal and leave a nice tip for that one waitress whose name he never cared to remember. Taking his leave from the diner he stepped out into the open main street and inhaled a breath of fresh air. The day was certainly going to be an interesting one.


Robin’s first stop was the park. The local park was a nice place to enjoy the birds, but more importantly a place to focus his mind on the task at hand. Whistling while he walked, he spotted a group of finches pecking about in the grass near the walk. Hearing them chirp, he whistled an identical chirp that made them cock their heads and look directly at him. He held a finger up and one of the birds flew over to it and landed. Moments like these were one of the few reasons he treasured his special gifts.
He stroked the bird on the head with his index finger while he walked, heading over towards his favorite park bench. The bird took its leave as he started to sit, which made him frown since he had been quite enjoying himself. He ignored it though and began setting his mind to the task at hand. Closing his eyes and pressing both of his index fingers to the sides of his head, the world turned black around him. Sounds came in more slowly.
Children in the distance, their laughter faded to nothing.
Cars with their loud engines, they became inaudible.
Birds and their chirping, the chirps became a distant whisper.
Not listening intently, but listening carefully, it was one of his special abilities. His mind closed off the sounds in the area near him, and began expanding his hearing to the area normally out of one’s audible zone. He could hear a couple yelling at each other in an apartment a few blocks away, the sounds that society looked upon unfavorably, he ignored them. He could hear a car smash into something that shouldn’t be crashed into and a curse as the owner realized what he had done, Robin ignored that as well. Something caught his attention a half mile away. His mind honed in on the sound and detected multiple police sirens as well as a bank alarm. Not what he was looking for, but it would do for the day.
Rising from his seat, he began walking quickly towards the bank. Now that he was aware of the robbery in progress, he could hear gunshots in the distance and police yelling something inaudible through megaphones. Breaking into a light jog, he ran toward the side of a nearby building, pausing when he reached the bottom. Coiling his legs, he jumped up into the air, his jump height being improbably ridiculous considering his small and unintimidating build. He cleared the two stories with room to spare, landing on the brick roof deftly like some kind of alley cat. He broke out into a sprint across the roof, dashing towards the edge and again coiling his legs in preparation for another jump.
In this way, he made his way from roof to roof as he quickly raced towards the bank. When he reached the building directly across the street from the bank, he quickly glanced around at the scene. Four police cars were outside the bank in a semi-circle, officers with their handguns at the ready pressed their backs against their cars in an effort to make themselves smaller targets. Robin turned his gaze from the police and towards the criminals just inside the bank doors. There were 5 of them, a sizable group meaning they were either all friends or they had decided on a temporary cooperation pact to seal the deal. Robin always assumed it was a twisted friendship with people like these, if only because he didn’t have friends of his own and didn’t quite comprehend how friendships worked.
Hopping deftly from the roof, he started towards the bank the moment he touched the ground. One of the robbers shouted something and pointed at him. The other guys glanced in the direction the first had indicated and yelled also, all of them pointing their guns at him. Most likely they were telling him to stop, but then Robin never was any good at following directions he didn’t care about.
The police spotted Robin walking towards them. “Sir! Please stay back, these men are armed and dangerous! They will not hesitate to shoot!” one of the older officers, probably a vet with 10 or more years on the force was yelling this at Robin.
Robin nodded. “Thanks for the warning. I always assume guns are made of plastic.” His bland expression and flat voice made the cop puff up his chest a little. “Now look here-!”
The cop barely managed to say three words, and suddenly Robin was at the front door. One second he was behind the line of police cars, the next he had traveled 40 yards forward in the blink of an eye and was a half foot away from one of the robber’s faces.
“Well, here I am. You gonna shoot me or what?” Robin’s face showed no emotion. The tone wasn’t even sarcastic, it was simply… bland.
The robber stumbled over backwards as soon as Robin spoke. Falling flat on his ass, he yelled out in surprise and suddenly all eyes in the room aimed at Robin. Robin shrugged. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
A chorus of clicking was heard as every man in the room aimed their guns at Robin and cocked their triggers. “Don’t move! Don’t you fucking move!” screamed a man that Robin would later mentally identify as the leader. “We’ve got all our guns on you, one wrong move and you’re gonna-!” the sentence was cut short as Robin was suddenly there in front of the man, landing a powerful uppercut into the man’s jaw. His last word sounded sickening as he had bitten off a chunk of his tongue and his jaw had been split in half by the force of the blow. His limp body was thrown ten feet up into the air, and it crashed into a table some feet away as it fell down, landing with a sickening ‘whump’.
In the two seconds it took for the leader to fly through the air, Robin had spotted some hostages at the far side of the room. Their attacker was rendered immobile for a second by the shock of seeing the leader go flying, so luckily his gun was not leveled at anyone’s head. Robin decided in that instant that the hostage guard was the next priority. By the time the leader’s body had limply landed on the table, Robin had taken out the guard with a well placed roundhouse to the midsection. The other three guys were unloading their ammunition at him, trying to kill him, wound him, even just slow him down for an instant, but their inaccurate peashooters were no match for his incredible speed.
Time moved slowly. A scream, his hand karate chopping a man’s arm and breaking it into an unnatural angle as blood spurted from where the bone jabbed through the skin. A bullet whizzed past his ear as one of the quicker guys took aim and fired. The first shot was the closest he came. Before he could fire another shot, Robin was upon him, delivering a knee to the man’s diaphragm. Not a good delivery either, this wasn’t some late Christmas present. The man flew back against a wall, vomiting blood the moment he hit the ground, every muscle in his body convulsing.
Last guy was the smartest. He raced out the door, hurling his gun behind him, begging the police to save him. These were hard times though, and even with his gun visibly not in his hands the police still opened fire on him. Later, some would say that they had thought he was charging at them to attack, others said that he had the look of a demon in his eyes and they fired only to protect themselves. Still, these were hard times, who was going to care about a dead bank robber?
On second thought, maybe he wasn’t so smart after all.


“Police have no comment on the unknown assailant who foiled today’s bank robbery. Four men were badly injured, maimed, and broken, and one man was shot by police when he tried to flee the scene. Some have spoken badly of the unknown vigilante’s action, stating his brutality was unwarranted. Nevertheless, his actions saved the lives of many innocent people today and will not be forgotten for a long time. Next up, a man from Nebraska claims that he saw…”
Robin sat on the floor of his apartment, watching the TV he had recently bought. News coverage was still very primitive, but certainly more reliable and less biased than he was used to. At least that was something. He spread some peanut butter and jelly on a couple slices of bread as he watched. He was just checking to see if anyone had recognized him, but naturally they hadn’t. They never did. They never put two and two together, that the unknown vigilante protecting their city had saved them multiple times. Guess they couldn’t be blamed, people just weren’t that smart yet, or maybe they just didn’t care enough to do some research. Robin could certainly respect the notion of not caring, it was something he had perfected to an art.
He once again pulled out the papers he had gotten from the fat man earlier that day. October of 1932, the day he couldn’t find. It would do him little good to find out what month of 1932 it had happened if he couldn’t find the day as well. The fat man had given him a solid start though, somewhere in the thirtyish days of that month was what he was looking for.
Glancing at his pocket watch again, he saw that it was almost noon. After he finished up this little bite to eat he would have to head out and make another commotion. He glanced at the TV again. “…were warned that the gas was highly dangerous but they continued to work in the mines anyway, just so they could feed their families. Now ain’t that a touching story Dave?” “You’re absolutely right, Marlon. Now let’s check in with the weather forecaster…” Robin reached over and turned off the TV. He didn’t need to know what the weatherman thought the weather would be for the day. Besides, he already knew it was going to rain later anyway and nothing they said was going to change that.


“Yeah, he’s been spotted over in New York. They say it’s him anyway, tough to keep track of all these rats.” The man spoke on his phone, speaking in between puffs of his expensive cigar. “Yeah, I can’t do shit about that. Send in the hounds. He wouldn’t have done something like that if he didn’t want to be found, so take extra precautions.” He waved his hands around while he spoke, obviously irritated. “Do I look like some kind o’ magician, Frank? Make him tell us where it is, or your ass is grass.” The man slammed the phone down on the receiver, a look of irritation seemingly branded onto his face. He put his cigar out in the ashtray next to his desk and spun his chair around. Glancing out the windows he sighed deeply.
His secretary glanced at him. “Mr. Kirchoff, do you have anything you need me to do? It’s almost time for me to go and I’d like to head home a little early for the day.”
Kirchoff shook his head. “No Alice, go home. I don’t really care. Bring me a coffee before you go though.” He gazed out the large paned windows at the vast city sprawling beneath him. He leaned back in his chair a little bit and sighed deeply again. “Sick and tired of this smoggy piece of shit city. I know Boston ain’t no better but I still miss my home more’n I do this shithole.”
“I know the feeling, Mr. Kirchoff.” Alice had already walked over, her high heels clicking on the tiled floor as she handed him his coffee. He realized that she had made it so quickly she had caught him off guard. He grabbed the coffee and slurped half of it down in one gulp. “I hope that works for you, sir. I’ll be heading home now.”
He grimaced inwardly at the taste. Alice made coffee about as well as she typed papers, and she was a damn awful typist. “Delicious. Now get your fat ass outta here and give a man some privacy already.”
She frowned slightly at his comment, but obliged him nevertheless. As she headed out the door, he admired her smooth curved body. She certainly didn’t have a big ass, that much he knew for sure. Hell she was probably one of the youngest, prettiest secretaries the organization had assigned him in a long time. Light blond hair, big blue eyes, she was every guy’s dream girl. Of course, she was already married but he sometimes fancied making a move anyway, even if he did think of guys like that as not being real men.
He’d worked long and hard over the years, earning his position in the organization. Hell, he was probably the only guy under thirty who had a corner office with a view this good. Despite some misgivings about the place, he had decided early on to play the political game and work his way up the rungs. He was still trying to get on the board of directors, but that was something of a distant goal. The fact they’d let him start getting injections and playing with their cool new toys was a sign they had already begun to let him into their culture.
He gathered up some papers on his desk and slipped them into his briefcase. As he stood up, the damn phone rang again. Shit, nobody ever let him leave early. He picked up the receiver and spoke loudly. “Yeah, Victor Kirchoff’s office.”
“Mr. Kirchoff, you’re wanted in the briefing room.” The feminine voice at the end of the line was unmistakably that one broad who worked at the front desk of the building. What was her name again? Hell, he didn’t have a memory nearly that good.
“What for? It’s almost six o’ clock and it’s time for me to head home.” His voice betrayed irritation but he didn’t care. He scratched at his thinning beard while he spoke.
“They didn’t say, Mr. Kirchoff. I’m just the messenger, but I know it’s from the top guns.” Her voice sounded so upbeat, how did she manage to sound like that all the time? He’d give her one point, she was certainly a talented actress.
“Fine. I’ll get on it, thanks for the heads up.” He hung the phone up and grabbed his briefcase. Annoyed as he was, anything that required him to be at the briefing office was probably of greater importance than his off time. And one thing was for certain, Victor never gave up a chance for political repositioning.


“Is everyone present?” the hulking man sat at the far end of the table, a large presentation screen unlit behind him. The fine wood table had room for some fifty seats and was of impressive length. While not filled to capacity, the forty or so people there were still capable of making the room look filled. Not to say they were all fat, but the majority of them certainly looked like they hadn’t been lacking food for a very, very long time.
“We’re missing Serif and Harding but otherwise everyone is here.” A small man adjacent to the head of the table clasped his fingers together as he spoke. His bony hands and small frame made him look wiry, untrustworthy, and even sneaky compared to the whales in the room. Victor would never get used to sitting amongst all these titans, not for as long as he lived. Though he would certainly grin and bear it for the soon enhanced paychecks.
“Good enough.” The hulking man at the head of the table spoke again. Unlike the others, his frame was made of muscle, not fat. Every inch of him was capable of snapping a man in half if they strayed too close. Victor doubted any of it was naturally gained, but then few people in this room had any natural talents, that’s why they worked here. “Would someone care to bring us all up to date on current events?”
The thin man spoke again, this time very eagerly. An unbiased observer might conclude that he was some sort of attention grabber, always desiring to have all eyes on him. Or perhaps it was nervousness; it was always hard to tell. “Our stock has risen another thirty points this week, compared with the drop of only five points last week.” His head bobbed while he spoke. Some people nodded politely to the good news. “One of our contacts in the middle east reported they’ve discovered even more oil in a remote…”
The progress report droned on for another ten minutes. Victor waited patiently, but slowly he could feel his foot start tapping, then one of his fingers started moving of its own accord until he was lost in a sea of boredom. The bony man’s name was something like… Terrance? Maybe Horace. Who knew all these men’s names anyway, most of them were about as fun as a brick wall. He could feel his annoyance filling up like a small jar with water dripping into it.
“…-is contacts finally may have discovered the location of Agent Robin in New York, though that’s up to him to report.” The bony man finally mentioned something relevant to Victor; he straightened up in his chair and breathed a low sigh of relief at finally being able to do something useful in this meeting.
“Yes, well, we found an unknown man in New York who put a swift end to an armed bank robbery early yesterday morning.” Victor spoke carefully, maintaining eye contact with everyone at the table for at least a second, while slowly panning his gaze towards the hulking man at the head of the table as he spoke. “There were several injuries to the men responsible for the robbery, many of them grievous and not soon healed. One man was killed, though that was the fault of the police.”
“How do you know this was Robin? Can you be certain?” the hulking man at the end of the table was silent while Horace or whatever his name was spoke.
“I think we can be fairly certain it was Robin. The three things mentioned most by the robbers, in between their screams of agony in the hospital, was that they could not remember the man’s face…” he paused after saying this, and noted a few nods at the table. “… and they spoke especially of his incredible speed and brutally effective methods of dispatching them. Though less eloquently than that, obviously.” This time nearly everyone at the table nodded in rhythm.
“Well now, doesn’t that sound just like Robin, always trying to be the vigilante.” Said a woman near the end of the table. Victor felt himself frowning for a split second, then quickly smoothed his face over. Usually there were never women in these meetings, but since she was the CEO’s daughter she was a rare and special exception. Much like his secretary, she looked like she was bred for beauty since the day she was born. Flowing brunette hair, pale complexion, rail thin body, full and pouty lips, she could have been a model for all he knew. “He hasn’t been active for months though, what if he did it just to grab our attention?” despite what her good looks might imply, she was highly intelligent. Her mind was sharp and she was probably one of the few in the room that could draw the correct conclusion to any scenario with only a few basic facts.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” Said Victor, not about to let himself sound like he knew less than a woman. “Even when he was a part of the organization, he always kept to himself. He wasn’t any good in a team, some kind of egomaniac. He always refused to do the nonviolent missions. If this bank robbery doesn’t sound like his M.O. then I don’t know what does.”
The big boss at the end of the table spoke up. “Yes. This certainly sounds like Robin. And if he’s being this obvious he must want us to find him. It’s too early to say if this is a trap or not, but even if it isn’t we must exercise the utmost caution. The few rogue agents out there would be nothing even if they combined their power against the likes of Robin.”
“I’ve noticed that in the last few years, ever since the… incident…” a man in the middle of the table spoke. “…we’ve had more than a few of our best agents leave the comfort and pockets of the organization to pursue their own agenda’s. We need to start filtering candidates more carefully before we start giving them the injections. They’re a huge waste of money and time when they choose to leave, and a liability to our otherwise clean name.”
The boss nodded. “I couldn’t say it better myself. We’ve been careless with our methods in the past, but we’re on the verge of war with our own creations, we can’t afford to let them run loose in the streets.” He turned his gaze toward Victor. “Victor, you’ve been with us for five years now and recently began your own injections. Have you any inclinations of going against the organizations orders, you’ll receive the same treatment that Robin will be receiving in due time.”
“Never sir, I would never betray the organization that made me the way I am today. Certainly not the organization that lines my pockets and keeps my family well fed.” Victor clenched his fist under the table. This was surely a test and hopefully his speech had been inspiring enough to keep those at the table confident of his loyalty.
“Good. You’ve been one of the more promising in the batch new candidates from a few years ago. It would be a pity to see your skills go to waste.” The boss turned his attention away from Victor and back to the audience at large. “I think this should draw the meeting to a conclusion. Send in three of our best agents to New York tonight.” He glanced at Victor. “Would you care to be among them? Capture Agent Robin dead or alive, and you’ll be rewarded greatly for it.”
Victor was unsure of his abilities against a battle hardened rogue agent like Robin who had been evading capture for years, but this was a bad time to consider declining an offer with this much hinted political power gain. “Absolutely, I’ll shoot him myself if I have to.”
“Good.” The boss looked again at the room of people. “I declare this meeting adjourned.”



2 Re: Robin on Sat Apr 20, 2013 9:11 pm


Aaarrrgghhh.. I wanna read this.. There any chance I can get you to send it to me in a pm? My psp doesn't let spoilers work, and it doesn't allow pdf's.. x.x

3 Re: Robin on Mon Apr 22, 2013 11:31 am


I could send you a docx file if that works?


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