The war was still fresh in people's minds, a constant reminder of how frail life was, how fragile peace could be, and how easily it could shatter. For others, mainly those born after the war started or were too young to remember a time before, life was supposed to be a constant struggle, and tales of world-wide peace were nothing but fairytales suddenly come true.
By the time peace finally came around, however, the world was already changed for good. There was no longer a middle class, you were either lucky enough to be rich or you weren't.
That was where the Robins came in. The technically illegal group was the best way for the able-bodied to make some money. It was also the best way for rich people to have things they'd rather keep discrete delivered. Letters, gifts, or things even more sinister could be taken to the Robins and ensured safe-and secretive-passage to the wanted location. However, thanks to the low key and underground nature of their work, the police were very disapproving. Keeping away from the cops was just one of the many things a Robin had to be good at.
Arthur Kirkland wasn't the fastest Robin, no, but he was quite a good liar. Spinning tales at the drop of a hat what was he did best. They were his passion, reading them and writing them. He had notebooks full of his own stories back at the house, hiding in the drawers somewhere. Once, long ago, Peter, his younger brother, had found one of them, and Arthur never heard the end of it. It was a habit to keep them hidden. When they were children, hiding in the corner of their bedroom as the bombs dropped or the soldiers marched, he'd calm the younger boy down by spinning a tale tale of adventure and excitement, anything to escape reality. Peter had loved them. The story-telling ended, however, as all things do. Peter was gone.
"Wren!" The voice of Elizabeta Héderváry, the leader of the Robins, blared into his left ear. He winced at the volume of the earpiece and reminded himself to ask Kiku to fix it. "Are you almost at your destination?"
"Yeah...I'm close." The blonde panted, racing down the empty street. Arms and legs pumping, feet hitting pavement in worn down shoes, lungs aching and everything else burning, Arthur Kirkland wasn't feeling too talkative. In fact, he wasn't feeling like doing anything except laying down and puking. The only perk of that particular run was the cold wind in his hair and the late night breeze against his back.
"Good." The leader, codename Falcon said. "Dove said he thinks there are police nearby."
"Shit." The blond breathed, trying to hurry himself even more. It was quite hard to fool a cop when you had a grey drawstring bag on your back. It was easy if you were delivering a letter or something, those could easily be slipped in and out of pockets, but big deliveries were harder to hide. Especially if they were heavy square boxes with sharp edges that dug into your back with every stride. If they looked inside the box, Arthur wasn't sure what the cops would find. Anything from an illegal weapon to a glass deer statue, but if it was something sinister-which was very likely- he'd take the fall. And he wasn't all that trusting of the cliental.
"Wren." A new voice said, this one calm and steady. Kiku Honda, or Dove, was a master when it came to electronics. He could get past any firewall, acquire any information, and had built every ear piece the Robins used. "There is a police vehicle a block ahead of you. Find somewhere to hide."
While he'd never say it, Arthur Kirkland was lucky for the forced momentary rest. The thought of resting his sore legs gave the blond a boost of speed needed to find his hiding spot, a grand tree with climbable limbs and dense foliage.
When he was kid, he had loved climbing trees. Especially the large one in his backyard. Him and Peter had even named it. It was probably something stupid, but as children, it made the tree feel like it was theirs. It might have even been the same kind of tree as the one he was currently climbing. They both had pinecones. Or at least, they looked like pinecones in the moonlight.
In almost no time at all, Arthur was sitting idly on one of the middle branches, thick enough for him to comfortably place his entire weight on the appendage and not have to fear it breaking.
"Good job out there, Wren." Falcon said with a giant yawn. "That was...good."
"You sound a little tired, commander." Arthur noted.
He had safely left the blasted box in a small hollow log near the creek for pick up the next morning to be taken wherever it was meant to go. Honestly, he didn't care enough to ask. Some people, like Hummingbird, always needed to know where the final destination of every one of his mid-way deliveries was and who ordered it.
Sometimes, if a delivery was too far for one Robin to make, they'd leave it somewhere to be gotten by another. For people like Arthur, that was most of the time. He lived too far in The Outskirts to reach the heart of the city in one run.
"King Fisher was supposed to get me a damn coffee." She admitted, voice crackling over the earpiece. "I swear to God that man is useless."
He smirked at bit at that. She yawned again.
Arthur could see a dull light in the horizon between the few concrete buildings and trees. It was almost dawn, and he didn't think the commander had gotten any sleep. He, on the other hand, had gotten quite a bit that afternoon, so it was easy to ignore his stinging, tired eyes. The man's heavy legs as he trudged along, however, were harder to forget.
The commander had a policy, if there was even one Robin on a run, she had to be awake and ready in case there were any problems. So while people like Arthur could sleep before their scheduled delivery, if there was someone else on a run, Elizabeta had to stay awake with them, no matter what.
"I'm almost home." He said. "You can get some sleep."
"Nah. Flamingo and Parrot have a delivery in...around an hour."
"Are you sure they'll be up by then?"
Parrot, or Lovino Vargas, was almost as horrible as his younger brother when it came to sleeping in late. Antonio Fernández Carriedo, Flamingo, was only a little better than them both.
"Yep." Elizabeta said with another massive yawn. "I made sure they both slept with their...ear doohickies in."
"Good." He said as his apartment building came into view at the end of the road.
It was tall, five stories, ten rooms on each except the first, which had only six to make room for the lobby and bathrooms. The brown, rectangular building was one of the few still standing in the area, and the only on that particular street.
He continued his walk in silence, hearing only the occasional yawn from Elizabeta. He preferred it that way. The quiet, empty streets were peaceful. It was calming, being alone in the silence and the brisk morning air.
He heard the quiet buzz of disconnection in his ear only a few minutes before pulling open the large wooden doors to enter his building. Arthur, eager to get home, walked through the lobby, past the three brown chairs on the orange carpet, past the guard sitting against the wall with a newspaper in his hand. Arthur knew his name, but couldn't recall it. The guard nodded at the him if to acknowledge that he was aware this was where the other lived, but the blond was already down the corridor. All that he wanted was to go to sleep, and soon. However, with every step on the metal stairs leading up to his apartment, Arthur felt his legs grow heavier and heavier. Finally, the full extent of the fatigue from that day had weighed down on him.
Hi, Komathesoap here, and I've got a brand new story because for some reason I can never just finish one. I hope you liked it, and please review and favorite/follow it if you liked it, because nothing makes someone feel better than praise from a stranger! (Okay, well I'm sure there are a few things, but the point is that if you liked it please let me know! Also, if there's anything that's misspelled or makes no sense, leave a comment so I can fix it as soon as I can.) Thanks!