It was sometimes hard to tell with Robinβs humor. Someone had described it to her, apparently, but it was someone with a very dry sense, and considering her powers it was hard to tell what was humor and what wasnβt. Seeing into the future did that, he supposed.Β
A small laugh trickled out of him as she clarified that it was a joke,Β βOi tink ya did decentΒ βnough. Problem wid today is though thaβ a prediction liek thaβ could be all too real, ya ken?β He laughed again, shrugging,Β βTry ta make it more ridiculous next time, aye? Liek it be endinβ in a burst af confetti poppers anβ Santa. Less likely ta send erryone an their ma inta a panic.β
She wasnβt used to feeling this way--- the relief that flooded through her when Cu got her joke. Relief in general was something she rarely experienced; what was there to be relieved about? Her visions werenβt just visual; she could hear everything around her, smell the stench of burning flesh, taste the ash in the air and feel the cold draft coming through the cellar doors. There was never a quiet moment in her head, never a chance where she could just finally breathe, for once.
Robin returned Cuβs response with a curt nod, βAlright, Iβll remember that next time. Confetti poppers and Santa.β She had no clue who or what a Santa was, but she didnβt bother asking. Instead, she turned to a fresh blank page in her book and selected a new colored pencil.Β βThis party is weird, iβm not sure I like it very much.β She admitted.
βYour first? No birthday parties, even? Nothing when you were even little?β He asked, curiously wondering about her age now. His eyes flicked down to her drawing, and while it wasnβt perfect he was starting to notice some horrifically familiar design. Designs that didnβt see their way into most Earth architecture, and the wardrobe the young boy donned was not at all Earth-like.Β
βOoohhh shady deals. Quite a bit of a big step, for a first party.β
Robin nodded, again undistracted by her sketching. Putting down the purple coloring pencil for a blue one instead, she started to color in the boyβs clothes, βMaybe a few small ones, I only remember family friends and tiny cupcakes. We moved around a lot because it wasnβt safe.β She paused very briefly, before looking up and meeting Donaldβs eyes for almost the first time since heβd approached her. βThere was one in the Taj Mahal, but thatβs in my thirties.β
She shrugged at Donaldβs remark, βSome steps must be taken, willing or not.β
Cu stalked up easily to the table, throwing his weight down on one of the chairs and grinning over at Robin, another from the Inner Circle,Β ββEy, Robin! Donβ ye look chuffed ta beΒ βere. Regular ray af fuckinβ sunshine.β he said, sarcastically, knowing all too well the girl wasnβt much for this sort of thing. Hell, he could barely hear his own voice in this crowd. Still, it was only a bit of playful teasing.
Leaning over he eyed her pad and watched her hands furiously go to work on it,Β βWhat ye drawinβ aye? We gotta worry?β
For someone as dangerous as Cu, Robin probably shouldnβt have been so glad to see himβ but she was. He was familiar and welcomed in such a strange and noisy place. There was relief on her face when she looked up to greet him, βOnly the destruction of the entire planet, no big deal.β she attempted to joke before returning to her sketches. A few of the others in the circle had been trying to teach her that lately. βDid I do that right? Was it funny?β
βLook, I wonβt judge.β He shrugged as he lied. He was judging her and her sketchbook, just slightly.Β Gus was positive he wasnβt the only one interested in the girl drawing at one of the most interesting parties he has been to.Β βEveryone has their own ways of enjoying the party.β And his were drugs. But that was something he would never admit to anyone he was close to. He wasnβt ready to call his slowly growing addiction aΒ βproblemβ.
Despite not understanding what was so important about being judged or not, Robin blinked at him and slowly nodded. βOkay,β She replied, looking back down to her sketchbook as she fiddled with the spiral. βIβm not here to enjoy the party,β she confessed.Β βIβm here to find my mom.βΒ
His uncle? Donaldβs eyes flashed a little at the thought, a bit of unease and anger rising up in himself. He tossed the emotion onto someone else across the room and stole their joy with a thought before focusing back on the girl in front of him, now a lot more interested in who she was.Β βWhy is it so important?β He asked, eyeing her pencils and paper.Β βI mean, you donβt seem the sort to find parties as important, unlike some others.β Namely himself. He loved a good party.Β
With a soft hum, Robin selected a purple coloring pencil and began drawing againβ drawing whatever of the vision she could remember from memory. She started with a sketch of a tiny Donald, working her way out to detailing the room around him. βIβm looking for my mom,β she finally responded without looking up from her work. βIβm supposed to meet someone with information about her. This is my first party, actually.βΒ Β
There were too many people. Too many mutants with abilities. A simple touch could steal them away.. But with her gloves pulled up to her elbows she hoped to avoid such a thing. It didnβt make sense to her but for now sheβd eat and steal some stuff so she wouldnβt be hungry tomorrow. She had decided to sit down at a semi empty table to eat but the motherly instinct in her couldnβt help push the plate toward the girl.Β βAre you hungry?β
With her head laid down and chin resting on the table, Robin barely looked up from her drawing. She shook her head, before pausing, βNo thank you,β she said, assuming itβd be rude if she didnβt verbally decline politely. Theyβd been trying to work on her people skills recently, even if Robin didnβt see much of a point to it.
βWhatβya doin?β Kitty remarked approaching the young women.The party was a bit overwhelming, so she couldnβt blame the girl for being on her own. Still, Kitty yearned for company. Just not for the company to be so filled she couldnβt be heard.
Robin glanced up briefly, before ducking her head back down, βIβm drawing,β she responded with a quiet voice, not really paying any mind to the girl thatβd approached her. Not with the intention of being rude however, she just wasnβt sure what else to say to the stranger.Β
Donaldβs brows cinched more than they had before, clearly disturbed by what she was saying. He wasnβt feeling upset presently, but it was quickly building along with the feeling of curiosity she was emanating.Β
βNobodyβs sending me away.β He stated, defensively.Β βIf you donβt want company, you know you could have always just not showed up?β He questioned, quickly masking the growing feeling of dread in his gut.
The clear look of unsettlement tipped Robin off almost immediately, and she knew that somehow she must have mixed up the past or future with the present again.Β βYour uncle,β she began, before pursing her lips and fiddling with her pencil anxiously. She rubbed her forehead absentmindedly, and winced as the visions continued to come and go. βI need to be here, itβs important.β She answered his question instead, and flipped her sketchbook to a new blank page.Β
Donald made his way about the party, curious about thisΒ βhalloweenβ thing. To him it was a celebration of expression and creativity, which was something his race often frowned upon. Even more so, when he saw a girl drawing in the corner.
βYou do know this is a party, right?β he asked, a brow cocking high and a hint of judgement clear in his tone.
βA party,β she repeated his words as she looked up, eyebrows furrowed. She wasnβt sure what he wanted from her, the question seemingly foreign to her ears, but she did know one thing and that was---Β
βYouβre upset,β she blurted before she could stop herself. "You think itβs unfair-- that heβs sending you away.βΒ
βI feel fantastic.βΒ Invincible, maybe. With the drug turning the dial to 12 with his powers, he had aΒ dumb smile on his face feeling like he could start a fight with anyone and win. He was smart enough to dare not risk it though. It would be humiliating for him to lose a fight in front of many people.
βIβm guessing youβre not interested in being here?β Gus eyed the sketchbook in her hand and scoffed in disbelief at the sight.Β βBecause people donβt usually bring sketchbooks to parties.β He thought it was weird. It wasnβt really the time or a place to be scribbling onto a page when there were drinks, drugs, and people to mingle with.Β
Robin shook her head almost vehemently, βIβm very interested in being here,β she insisted. Sheβd spent the past few weeks nagging Derek to find a way to let her come and though heβd been hesitant at first, he seemed to understand once she confessed her ulterior motive. βThe sketchbook is necessary. It... helps.β She struggled to further explain herself, the words all jumbled in her head-- crammed beside her visions.Β
Itβd only been less than an hour since sheβd arrived with Derek, but Robin already found herself losing focus and head pounding. There was a reason why she never requested to attend events like this ever-- the sheer immensity of people had her visions bouncing off the walls. Glad that she brought her sketchbook and coloring pencils, she sat herself at a vacant table and set to putting everything on paper. It was the best way she knew to distract herself from them; getting them out rather than keeping them in.Β
Amazing. He thought to himself as he felt the Kick enter his system, giving him a euphoric high. He was coping with lifeβs problems the only way Sentinel Services let him in their clutches- with drugs. His eyes flickered gold for a second, so tempted to use his enhanced powers induced by the drug. At least for Gus, it beat the shitty way he was feeling when he found out about Sonyaβs death.Β
The event was truly intriguing. With an invitation that Gus concluded was sent by someone with mutant abilities and the real party hidden by an illusion of an abandoned warehouse, it was genius. Whoever was hosting the Halloween party clearly knew what they were doing but it didnβt mean Gus wasnβt watching his back. For all he knew, it could be a way to lure mutants into a feeling of false security before taking them all in for the Hound program or wiping them all out in an instant.
His costume was simple enough. A black leather biker jacket, a plain white tee, and his hair slicked back to represent Danny Zuko in the classic film Grease. With a drink in his hand, his eyes scanned the party, looking for a seemingly friendly face. He approached the other with a small smile on his face with the most basic conversation starting question.Β βHowβs it going?β
Howβs it going...?β Robin peered up at Gus as she repeated his question, eyebrows drawn together.Β βItβs going... itβs going good.β Thatβs how normal people responded, right? Sheβd been so wrapped up with drawing in her sketchbook that she hadnβt exactly noticed Gus approaching until he spoke. Not that she wouldβve noticed him if she hadnβt been drawing anyways--- with so many people surrounding the vicinity, her visions had been coming at alarming rates and it was almost painful to try to stay focused. Half of her wondered where Derek must have went.Β
βHow are you?β She responded carefully, before glancing down at her drawing-- vaguely recognizing the scribbles she made as her in her little cat-costume and Gus in his Greaser outfit. She looked back up to him and then back to the drawing. Ah, that mustβve been a prediction of the future then. It was always so hard to tell between past, present, and future these days.Β Β
Thatβs not Maia Mitchell itβs Robin Hinton. Sheβs 22Β years old and a Inhuman. She may be Β -Indifferent, -Quiet & Β -Absentminded but sheβs also +Resilient, +Candid, & +Empathetic. Sheβs fighting for HerselfΒ and this is her time.
HISTORY:
Robin HintonΒ is the inhuman daughter of Charles and Polly Hinton. Her father abandoned her and her mother when she was just 18 months old. He had the ability to predict death upon physical touch and couldnβt bare being unable to hold his daughter without giving her visions of death. Charles died a year later to save Daisy Johnson.Β
His family was visited by Daisy shortly after his death and she gifted Robin a wooden carving of a robin bird her father had carved during his absence. Robin often carries it around.Β
Around the age of four, Robin underwent her own terrigenesis and was given the gift to see visions of the past, present and future. Due to how strong her gift is, she has no real control over it and often gets lost in her head, frequently confusing what time period sheβs in.Β
She is generally indifferent to anything happening around her and is rarely talkative. She prefers to communicate through drawings.Β
In an alternative timeline that Robin vividly remembers, Melinda May was her adoptive mother. In that timeline, Polly doesnβt make it very far and passes away while Robin is still very young. In aftermath, May ends up taking Robin under her wing and has always been the most patient with Robin and her cryptic visions, as well as the only one not afraid of what she can do. Although the timeline had ultimately been avoided in the end, it is shown with evidence that Robin still remembers everything about their time together and continues to recognize May as her mother.Β
CURRENT TIMELINE:
Robin is currently under the custody of The Inner Circle. They have had her since she was 16, shortly after the death of her birth mother. Her powers are valuable to them and though she rarely reveals any information on her own, they regularly analyze her drawings.Β
Because there have been people constantlyΒ blinking in and out of timelines recently, the future is technically always shifting and changing for Robin now.Β
POWERS:
Known asΒ Chrono Vision,Β Robin has the ability to see the past, present and future. Her visions donβt follow a linear sequence and she is capable of seeing across alternate timelines. She can also sense if any changes to a timeline are made.
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