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Robin Branwen



Appears to be in her late 20's



Greed



5'9



178 lbs.



White



Blue



Female



Robin has a petite frame, with short strangely white hair that reaches her shoulders, and pale plue eyes. She usually wears dark colored clothing, more preferably an outfit reminicent of a maid's uniform, with accents of jewelry she had stolen from others. She also has scars all over her arms and upper torso.



Robin's brand is of a fox circling a small treasure chest, representing her thieving nature. It's located on her right shoulder.



A kleptomaniac, Robin is posessive, and always gets a kick out of stealing from the rich. She likes to mess with others, either with sarcastic remarks, or just taking their stuff in general. Even if she's a concidered criminal, she's like an older sister to those who are close to Robin, but she'd never share any of her loot. Never.



"Honestly, I can't remember my past..."



After being banished by The White God, Robin had woken up in a small village, only remembering the times she had raided and stolen from the upper classmen and women as a child. So settling down at a nearby mercenary camp, she trained herself to be an expert thief and asassin.

Yet word went around about a kingdom under the rule of The Holy Knights, who overthrew the original royal family. Robin saw that as an opportunity to strike gold, so she packed up her things, and went her way.



Magnolia - A pure silver rapier with a golden handle, a Magnolia shaped citrine carved into the sword.



Phantom Shift: For as long as she can focus, Robin can turn herself specteral. Either to sneak past and distract others, go inside inaccessible rooms, or converse with other ghosts. Yet if she stays a ghost for too long, Robin's real body will vanish.

She can only stay in this form for 20 minutes/5 turns, before having to revert. If she's startled or distraced, Robin instantly turns back to normal.

If it had been his first time there, he probably would have let it slide. Had it been their second or more time there, he probably would have just let it go. Unfortunately for the later, neither was the case...



The semi-blind fairy would have never thought that he would be actively going to a pub of all places; not to mention it was practically in the middle of "nowhere town", being what Mika likes to call it. At the pub, everyone was generally nice to Mika, giving him treats when he came in, a few lines of fluffy banter and even woops and hollers of his name. But there were always a few newcomers that irked the boy off more than he could properly express.

After completing one of his deliveries and finally getting the smell of blood out of his ragged clothing, Mikazuki sprinted off in the direction of said pub, much like he always did after 'deliveries'. Of course he would have much preferred to fly, but alerting everyone that he was a fairy would probably make him a little suspicious, especially since he didn't have the iconic trait of wings that went with the species.

Through dirty bandages, Mika effortlessly maneuvered down and across several streets and walkways, his mind so use to taking the familiar way almost every single day that his body moved on instinct. He had soon come to a stop in front of a circular building with cream colored walls, a dark brown roof, and a warm orange light emanating from the windows at the very outskirts of said town. Approaching the small building, Mika placed a tentative hand forward before his bandaged fingers brushed upon what felt like wood. A small grin crept up on the fairy boy's face as he pushed the door open and padded inside...

...Only to be greeted with a wave of cheers that would have made him jump if he hadn't already seen their auras through the pub walls. However, he still did provide a small jump of surprise out of courtesy before smiling gleefully at everyone who greeted him at once.
"Do you guys always have to do that when I come in?" The boy questioned before feeling a large hand on his head, ruffling around the light burgundy locks to a more messier state than previous. He didn't necessarily have to turn around to see who's hand it belonged to, as he was greeted with the gesture every time.

That hand belonged to Jonathan, a muscular, towering man with a strong sense of justice, but a gentle loving soul. His Aura was always blazing a deep red to show off his strong will and grounded nature.
"Bwahahaha! Aw, don't be like that kiddo!" His voice always made Mika's ears ring. "We just love having you around! Let us baby you around a little!" The taller man grinned as he removed his hand, Mika immediately trying to fix what he couldn't exactly see. Right, to them, he was just a kid who swung by for some food and became a regular in the process. He had to keep it that way too.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. But can you baby me after I get some food?" Mika retorted, only receiving a smirk in return and a pat on the back that pushed him forward a bit.

Giving a few more waves and greetings to those that called out to him, Mika was suddenly stopped by one of the waitresses, who moved to his side and locked arms with him. At first he was a bit confused by the action, until his eyes landed on the Aura next to her, causing him to break out in a wide smile.
"Prim!" Mika shouted excitedly as he bounced up and down at her arrival.

Primrose was the daughter of Jonathan and the head waitress of the pub. Her personality was like liquid gold and it was almost impossible to hate her. Her Aura was normally yellow when Mika saw her. She was also the only one that took into account his 'blindness' and helped him around the pub when he needed it.
"What's up little dude? Hope my old man isn't annoying you or anything. Come on, let's get you to the bar seats, Chise already has some food waiting for you!" She spoke with twice the energy that Mika was expressing, said boy nodding eagerly as he let himself get guiding to the bar seat, plopping himself down on one of them, right next to two burly men with quiet black Auras. He could already see that it would a problem sitting next to these people, especially since they seemed new to the pub, but asking Prim if he could move elsewhere seemed rude and asking Jonathan for help would make it plainly obvious; not to mention Jonathan was probably drunk with the way his Aura swirled and spun. He had to get them out of there now before they started causing problems; is this why Prim put him next to them? But before he had a chance to think up any plan to get them to move or leave, the woman of the pub herself stood in front of him on the other side of the long table.

Now this was definitely Chise, the owner of the pub and the one who cooked most if not all of the meals. She a stout woman, but not as short as him, and was very round. Her Aura tended to be on the bright metallic silver spectrum, being the Aura of new ideas.
" Mika! Darling, I reckon you want the regular? No spoon?" She questioned with a mischievous smile. Although Mika couldn't see it, he got the message loud and clear and nodded quickly.
"You know me so well, Chise." He smiled as he swung his legs idly.

He waited a few seconds until he heard a soft clink from right in front of him, letting him know that his plate of spicy curry had arrived in all its glory. Mika could feel the heat coming off of it, but it was a short lived moment as one of the two men let out a low growl.
"Really woman? The kid could wait, we've been here for hours without any food!" One of them barked at her, only for her to let out a low chuckle.

"Sorry boys, regulars are given first priority." Chise cooed at them before disappearing into the kitchen. Mika couldn't help but adore the other's spunk as he began digging into the curry, using his hands instead of a utensil to eat; for him it was just more comfortable than holding onto an item he couldn't physically see. He made sure to make as much of a mess as curry was flying in almost every direction with the way he ate. It kinda reminded him of someone, but he could put his finger on it, nor was he given anymore time to think on it as the man sitting next to him stood up and grabbed him by his already ripped up shirt.

"Are you trying to piss me off, runt?" Was the first thing he said before turning to look at the other man who also got up. "This rat thinks he can get food on me and get away with it?!" He barked as he turned back to Mika who was still eating, ignoring him. This seemed to anger the two men enough as the one that had Mika in his grip began dragging him towards the door, knocking over his high seat with a resounding thud. Despite this, everyone in the pub remained their lively cheerful selves, as if the two men pulling the poor boy out of the pub wasn't happening.

Mika, on the other hand, loosened up like a rag doll, his entire body limp. Even though he knew he was going to be fine and that he could take these guys out...why did it still scare him? Was it because he was small? Was it because he was a Sin with barely any memories? Was it...because they looked down at him for being a kid? Mika's breathing slowly picked up as he let his mind feed him these insults and provocations. He knew he did't need to 'freak out' to get rid of these two men, but his body nor his mind were listening to him. There was no one to calm him down either.

Before he even knew it, he was thrown to the ground outside and behind the pub.
"So twerp, you think you can get away with dirtying my clothes?" Mika was wheezing at this point. Even if he wanted to answer, he couldn't as a large boot collided with his face, causing him to slide across the ground, accumulating more dirt on his body. With his nose now bleeding, Mika murmured a few words under his breath. However the man who delivered the kick and dragging him out of the pub seemed to pick up on what he said. "What was that? You got something to say, punk?!" The growled as he went for another kick, only to stopped by what looked like chains that appeared almost out of nowhere. The chains quickly began to wrap around the man as the fairy boy slowly got. With his switch completely flipped, he began to speak.

"First, you worms decided to show your ugly faces at the same pub that I go to."

The chains wrapped around the man's left leg constricted, a resounding crack reverberated around the area as the man simultaneously screamed in pain.

"Second, I grace your horrible presence and you don't even talk to me."

The right leg. Crack. Scream.

"Third, your filthy mouths addressing Chise like she belongs to you."

The left arm. Crack. Scream.

"Fourth, your poor hands decided they had the right to touch my clothes."

The right arm. Crack. Scream.

"And lastly...the way you pieces of shit looked down on me...unforgivable!"

The neck. Crack. Silence.

"Now, I'll give you ten seconds to get out of my sight, you mongrels."

She does carry a pair of push daggers that pass as scissors if they aren't examined too closely.

Tinkling bells gradually added to the din of the marketplace as the pony wearing them pulled a small cart into the plaza. The woman leading it smiled absently at greetings from other vendors here-and-there and scanned the area with vibrant green eyes. It had been a while since Devan had come to the larger city, but she had a few-- certainly not friends, but friendly-- acquaintances.

Finding a good spot, she gave the pony his feed bag and lay her shawl over his back, then tied her silver curls into a pompom on the back of her head. A couple of stones kept the wheels of the cart from rolling as the small woman efficiently started pushing and pulling and turning various pieces of the cart, slowly transforming it into a stand with an awning and dowels to hang her merchandise.

Devan cursed under her breath when the last support for the awning stuck, “...every time …4ű©«¡^9 thing…” With a roar of aggravation disproportionate to her stature she kicked the cart.
And immediately grabbed her toes through the soft slipper-like shoes.

“Wrath is a sin, you know, miss,” a deep voice chuckled from behind her. Devan whirled, diaphanous skirts billowing and fully intending to rip the smartass a new one, but emerald eyes widened when she found herself face-to-- another part of anatomy- with a Holy Knight. If the white armor and being a human- or giant! on the Fairy Isle wasn't enough indication, the man's sword-hilt and pommel were a stylized silver Tree of Life.

Uh oh... She backpedaled into her equine companion and saw the Tree was etched into each pauldron as well. Snatching her shawl from the pony’s back, she hastily wrapped it around herself, hopefully before he could get much of a view of her cleavage-- and more to the point-- the dimly glowing brand nestled there.

The knight must have written her reaction off as simple surprise of him being so close combined with modesty, because he just chuckled again and stepped around the tiny woman to examine the offending support.
He tugged on it. He wiggled it. He leaned to look around at the rest of the cart. He tugged again. He tried putting it back into its ‘closed’ position and pulling it back out, only to get stuck in the same spot again. He growled and smacked it with a gauntleted fist.

“What was that about Wrath, sir?” Devan drawled with the tiniest smirk. She rummaged through a drawer of the cart, taking the chance to surreptitiously use her gift. The secondary pupils in her unusual eyes dilated as she peeked at the knight through a fringe of silver that had escaped from her hair tie. He didn't seem to suspect anything unusual at all, but that quick peek would make him slightly more naive for a little while. She wasn't going to take a chance.

Blinking a few times, her eyes returned to normal and her hands pulled a small tin of oil from the drawer. “This should help.”

The knight laughed; a few strategic drops did wonders and the awning was up in no time. “So how long are you in town, little Wrath?” His wink didn't ease the knot that dropped into her stomach.

What a twisted sense of humour… Surely he doesn't actually suspect, wrong Sin or not... Devan covered her discomfort with her own laugh that tinkled not unlike the pony's bells. “You saw there's no brand on my neck, Sir Knight-- Is that the right one? I'm only here for the day.”

“That it's Sloth; Wrath's is here,” he said, laying his right hand on her left shoulder, “but that Sin is a man, so you're safe. A pity, you're not here long, though; I could use a new cloak. I'll take my leave, then, miss. May the White God watch over you!”

Devan watched until the Holy Knight was out of sight, then folded her cart back down. She kicked the stones from the wheel, took the pony's nearly empty feed bag, and left the market, then the city. It would be quite a while before she returned.

It had taken three days of tracking, but Matthew had finally found them. There was a group bandits that claimed to worship the Black God and have been causing all kinds of trouble. Taking them down would certainly be noticed by his father, especially since he was going alone. They were nothing but a bunch if uncivilized ruffians. How hard could it possibly be?

It didn't take long for the bandits to notice him. Walking down a road in shiny white armor wasn't exactly inconspicuous. The brigands began to gather at the entrance of the camp to face the incoming Holy Knight. However, they just kept gathering. Next thing Matthew knew there were fifty of them standing before him. Many them were armed with axes, maces, and warhammers; weapons that were ideal against an armored opponent. It was almost as if they were prepared for such an occurence.

One of the bandits stepped forward, presumably the leader.

"Are you so eager to meet the White God, Sir Knight?"

Matthew lifted Subjugator and leveled it toward the bandits.

"In the name of the White God, submit or be destroyed," Matthew shouted.

The bandit leader smirked and turned to his underlings, issuing a simple command.

"Kill him."

The tide of bandits fell upon Matthew. Tightening his grip on his weapon and shield he prepared himself to face the onslaught. He said a quick prayer asking the White God for strenght, and started swinging.

Matthew didn't return to the temple in nearly as good of a condition as when he had left. His armor was battered, dented, and bloody and his helmet was missing. A swarm of priests rushed to him to help him down from his horse. When Matthew recounted to them what he had accomplished they lavished him with the blessings of the White God. His father, on the other hand, was still not easily impressed.

"You look atrocious," his father told him.

"I vaquished the heretical bandits," Matthew told him.

"It took you an entire week?"

"It was a two day journey just to get there..."

"Then you should have been back in five. Where is your helmet?"

"It was dented in and obstructed my vision. I had to remove it."

"Clearly I didn't put enough emphasis on the importance of protecting your head."

"But, Father, I.."

"A Knight does not make excuses. Now go clean yourself up."

"Yes, sir."

There was once a story that some were told as a child. About an archer and swordsman, who stole from the rich to give to the poor. Yet some couldn't help but wonder, what if someone like this thief existed? There was a young woman that would have once fit the description, if not for who she is now.

Late at night, Robin was following her latest target, with the hood of a dark blue cloak hiding her face. A duke, who had bought a rose gold necklace for his wife, possibly as an anniversary gift. The piece of jewlery was accented with sapphires and amethysts, with a pure red ruby in the center. The thief's eyes seemed to gleam with greed at the sight of the treasure, but she stayed out of sight, in hopes of finding the right time to strike.

Yet the duke had entered a nearby pub. A strange place for an upperclass man to be for Robin, but the necklace was more important. So looking around to see if she was being followed, the thief continued to follow inside. Everything seemed normal, from the arguing drunks nearing a bar fight, to the one's gambling their riches away in simple casino games, and at the far right was the main bar, where the duke was sitting at with a half empty glass of beer.

He seemed to be having a conversation with the bartender, so Robin sat down at an empty table, near the bar, and listened in to the chat.

"Oi' Fredrick. You've been 'ere alot for a month now, care to elaborate?" The bartender asked.

"Ah, It's nothing. I'm just constantly worrying that my wife will figure out I've been with the maid behind her back..." Fredrick answered, taking a swig of his beer.

"An affair? This should be quite interesting." Robin said to herself, before turning back to listen more.

"It's supposed to be our wedding aniversary today, yet I can't be bothered to even look her in the eyes again without feeling guilty!" Fredrick rested his head in his then crossed arms, banging the surface of the bar with his fist.

The bartender sighed, and put down the glass they were cleaning. "Look here, Fred, secrets don't stay hidden forever, I had to learn that the hard way. You have to tell the truth at some point, less ya' want to have a burden on your conscious for the rest of your life."

"So what are you saying...?" The duke looked up at the bartender.

"I'm sayin', it's best to confess now, got it?"

Fredrick seemed to perk up, as he quickly got up from his seat, and walked out of the pub.

"The duke's seeing a servant behind the duchess back..." Robin repeated, before giggling to herself.

"How quaint~. I wonder what would happen if I were to cut in~..."

The plan was set.

Robin was to sneak behind the duke, and knock him out, possibly with some poison or venom. Then she would drag him to an alleyway close to his home, and make it to where he had a date with their maid. All making sure to take the necklace.

The thief continued to stalk Fredrick. Slowly pulling out a syringe until...

"Wait, what are you--Mrph?!"

She pulled him out of sight and injected the duke with it. Rendering him unconsious.

"Pity. If the riches of men weren't the only thing I care about, I'd help you with your troubles..."

"Oh well~!"

Robin grabbed the necklace from Fredrick's pockets, and rested the duke by the wall. She losened his clothes a bit and messed up his hair to the point of where he looked like he just woke up,but that wasn't enough. So the thief decided to punch Fredrick a few times around and in the neck till he bruised, to give the illusion of love bites.

"There we go. Sorry again bud, but you sorta deserve it." She said, before walking away.

---

Meanwhile, the wife of Fredrick had gone out to look for him, only to take his appearance the wrong way.

"Fred?! Fredrick, where are you?!" The duchess called out, a groan of pain as the only reply. She quickly followed the voice of her husband to the alley he was dragged to.

"Ugh...Maria...?"

"Oh Fredrick, what happ-" Maria asked, before noticing the brusing.

"W-what's with the..?" The duchess pointed to one of the bruises, which took a few second for the duke to notice. She backed up, and turned away from her husband.

"No...nononono, Maria, it's not what it looks like!"

"I can't believe you would do this to me! And on the day we got married!!" She yelled at Fredrick, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Maria please! I'd never cheat on you! I was just-"

"Just what?!"

"Look, I had gotten you a gift, a beautiful necklace that made me think of you, a-a-and I made a stop at the pub for a quick drink!" Then it dawned on him.

"Wait, let me get it out for you-"

He felt around his pockets, yet the gift wasn't there.

"U-uh...ahahah, minor setback..."

---

Robin couldn't contain her laughter, as she watched from afar her victim's marriage fall apart. It reminded her of one the poor drama novels she once read.

"Ah, poor sod. He should've took heed what the bartender told him." She said, twirling the stolen necklace with her index finger as she walked away from the scene.

"But it was worth it. Yet I wonder how much this thing's worth..."