Listening quietly as the Doctor talked, sipping at his - what in Bacchus' name was this, anyway? No matter. It was alcohol and it was one more step to drinking himself into oblivion. Seemed like a wonderful idea. "This girl, she's just one example. But she's a good one. Barely into her twenties, she dies. Whatever the reason, doesn't matter, just one blip in the grand scheme of things. And maybe her death makes a difference...maybe it doesn't. Hard to say, really, if her dying changed the course of history any more than her living would have. But then," he chuckled mirthlessly, "she comes back. And you're right - it shouldn't be. Fucks everything up. Humans, they aren't equipped to deal with such huge second chances. But, anyway, she lives again. Isn't handling it as well as she could, but better than most, I suppose." He took another drink and stared at his bottle. "She'd do it again. All over. She's told me so. So young and ideal and full of spitfire - like she could change anything. Like she's anything more than dust. She should just fucking live. Instead she's fighting the same battle that killed her, over and over. She could run and hide - that'd be the smart thing to do. She could chalk it all up to a bad experience and move on. But no. Wanders the halls with her wand out, still talks like she hasn't seen hell." Pausing a long moment, Robin finally snorted again and shook his head. Finishing off the bottle, he grabbed another.
"Alone, yes. Both of us. Not the same, but at least not one of them." Sighing now, Robin scrubbed his face with one hand, the other still clutching tight to his drink. "As much as I've tried, can't become one of them. Thank Bacchus and all the goddesses I've ever known. They are so...yes, thinking themselves superior. I walked with gods, I sang under the stars before they were a thought, I taught them so much...and now, they've forgotten my race ever existed. Or we've been regulated to the goat-legged trickster in their fairy stories. Bah. Whole lot of them are running around like chickens with heads cut clean off. Claiming they rule the world, acting like children." Robin's eyes were sad and angry and filled with some deep longing. "They've forgotten where they came from."
"Most people don't get a second chance," he agreed with a hint of disgust. "Or if they do...it's just at living, not the things they've done. Not like those stories they make up, go back and see what it's like without you there and all your friends are miserable, and you come back loving life and all that. It's all crap. I've said it before, I'll say it again--the ordinary person, that's the most important thing ever. But damn if they don't go around wasting their time and their lives." He paused in his drinking and peered over at Robin with a bit more interest.
"Now, this woman you're talking about, she sounds like someone I know. We talking about Lily?" A sly little grin appeared on his face. "Yeah, well, I think she probably scared the devil himself if she was in hell. I think of all the people in this school I wouldn't want to piss off, she'd be in my top five. Rather like her as company. Don't rather like her boyfriend." With a scoff, he drank again.
"Oh, yes, turning into a story, I've been there and done that. Ghost stories. Conspiracy theories. I pop up now and then. Try not to. Never really wanted to be known. It's how I work, pop in for a good time, end up fighting off evil beings, run off before I've hardly had any time to be recognized as the one who saved 'em. They only act like children because they are. They need a little guidance. But they'd never accept. Got to develop on their own anyway. Sooner or later, one of these decades, I keep thinking they'll learn. How can you go around killing each other over who believes in god through this religion or that? How can you go around killing one of your own kind like that? Self-defense, they say. Insanity, they claim. Gets to be that nobody gets blamed for the nasty things they do near daily, no justice, no punishment, no anything, get to walk away. Except for the weight on their conscience, but people are willing to pay that. Most cultures in the universe seem to go through this kind of thing. Bit of savagery before it all gets sorted out. You'd think they'd learn from their own movies and experiences and the like."
Pausing on that thought, he hopped the bar and browsed some of the other bottles before taking out one or two. He disappeared a moment and reappeared with a pint (why waste a small glass when something larger would work just as nicely) of some kind of mixture. "They only think they understand the big picture, but they miss everything obvious right under their noses. It's a shame, a damn shame."
"Alone, yes. Both of us. Not the same, but at least not one of them." Sighing now, Robin scrubbed his face with one hand, the other still clutching tight to his drink. "As much as I've tried, can't become one of them. Thank Bacchus and all the goddesses I've ever known. They are so...yes, thinking themselves superior. I walked with gods, I sang under the stars before they were a thought, I taught them so much...and now, they've forgotten my race ever existed. Or we've been regulated to the goat-legged trickster in their fairy stories. Bah. Whole lot of them are running around like chickens with heads cut clean off. Claiming they rule the world, acting like children." Robin's eyes were sad and angry and filled with some deep longing. "They've forgotten where they came from."
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"Now, this woman you're talking about, she sounds like someone I know. We talking about Lily?" A sly little grin appeared on his face. "Yeah, well, I think she probably scared the devil himself if she was in hell. I think of all the people in this school I wouldn't want to piss off, she'd be in my top five. Rather like her as company. Don't rather like her boyfriend." With a scoff, he drank again.
"Oh, yes, turning into a story, I've been there and done that. Ghost stories. Conspiracy theories. I pop up now and then. Try not to. Never really wanted to be known. It's how I work, pop in for a good time, end up fighting off evil beings, run off before I've hardly had any time to be recognized as the one who saved 'em. They only act like children because they are. They need a little guidance. But they'd never accept. Got to develop on their own anyway. Sooner or later, one of these decades, I keep thinking they'll learn. How can you go around killing each other over who believes in god through this religion or that? How can you go around killing one of your own kind like that? Self-defense, they say. Insanity, they claim. Gets to be that nobody gets blamed for the nasty things they do near daily, no justice, no punishment, no anything, get to walk away. Except for the weight on their conscience, but people are willing to pay that. Most cultures in the universe seem to go through this kind of thing. Bit of savagery before it all gets sorted out. You'd think they'd learn from their own movies and experiences and the like."
Pausing on that thought, he hopped the bar and browsed some of the other bottles before taking out one or two. He disappeared a moment and reappeared with a pint (why waste a small glass when something larger would work just as nicely) of some kind of mixture. "They only think they understand the big picture, but they miss everything obvious right under their noses. It's a shame, a damn shame."
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