Author's Note: Finally a change in location, new characters, and some serious nods and references to continuity! Are you guys excited to see more of the Gargoyles Universe version of New York? I sure am! This is another multi-setup chapter, as well as some lore exploration, but just a little bit. Mostly I'm just gonna have fun linking up characters and events in this expansive New York City.
This chapter takes place a few days before "The Mirror" episode, during the morning of Chapter 4.
"Preparing for the new school year just got easier! Everything from backpacks, to notebooks, to pencil sharpeners; all of your back to school needs are 35% off, for the entire month of September!" the store intercom blared for what had to be the 8th time since Robbins stepped inside. "So shop smart, shop cheap, shop OfficeMax" it finished, giving him a small reprieve for the next 5 minutes. Robbins sighed and tapped his foot while waiting in the checkout line, several preschool and kindergarten booklets focused on reading and spelling tucked underneath his arm.
It had been a while since Robbins went this far into the city, not for any reason in particular, he just didn't have any real purpose in traveling so far, nor any motivation. But now that Hudson was counting on him to tutor him in reading, he woke up that morning with a clear purpose in mind. Gathering the necessary materials to start this journey he had proposed to his new friend, the Scottish secret agent. Again, that just sounded off to him, like the title of a lowbrow daytime sitcom or something.
He called his driver, Eddy, for the first time in weeks, to take him into town so he could run his errands. Eddy was surprised at their first stop, OfficeMax. The place they were currently parked behind a mother of 3 or 4 children, twiddling their thumbs waiting for the rambunctious family to get their school supplies bagged and shuffle out of there. The poor woman had kids dangling off her arms while trying to pay the cashier for the materials, Robbins didn't need to see it to know it. Parents these days, just let their kids climb all over 'em, he grumbled in disappointment.
Finally, the cashier called out to the next person in line, and Robbins thanked God as he and Eddy plopped their items on the conveyor belt. She got them scanned swiftly, bagged carefully, and even made time to small talk a bit. A very professional young lady, so much so that Robbins had a little trouble providing a satisfactory answer when she asked him if he was a kindergarten teacher or a kindergarten parent.
He stumbled with his words for a second, which was quite uncharacteristic of him, before sidestepping the question all together. He couldn't very well tell her the truth, now could he? After all, it was a privilege for him to even know of Hudson's existence, seeing as only a handful of people in the world did. Robbins couldn't even think of revealing that secret, even tangentially. So he cobbled together an innocent white lie that would keep her suspicions at bay, something about a friend of a friend's little boy needing help and Robbins was in the neighborhood so here he was.
A flimsy story, to be sure, but the young lady didn't mind and simply told him his total, prompting him to take out his money clip and give her more than enough bills. Before she could even try to make change, he lightly touched her hands when offering the money and quipped a clever comment.
"It'd make it a lot easier for both of us if ya just kept the change. It's not like I'd notice if ya didn't give me exact change back" She gave him an unexpected snort of a laugh before wishing him a pleasant rest of his morning.
"Where to now, Boss?" Eddy asked while leading him back to the car.
"Depends on what time it is" he responded, grocery bag secure in his lax grip. He could hear Eddy shuffle his jacket sleeve to look at his watch before he opened the passenger door.
"10:07"
"Ah, good" Robbins said as he slipped into the fairly spacious backseat of the car. "The Met, then" he instructed while placing the bag on the seat next to him.
"Gonna look at some art?" Eddy joked as he jumped into the driver's seat and shifted into drive, the car faithfully responding and rumbling to life.
"Somethin' like that" Robbins laughed airily. "The Scrolls of Merlin were just recently returned and I wanna know what they managed to translate off 'em"
"Oh yeah, yeah I heard 'bout that. Crazy how that whole thing happened"
"Yeah, crazy" was Robbins's disconcerting reply, the entire story playing through his mind once more. It was crazier than the boy could ever imagine; Merlin was a real person who wrote a diary of his life, which revealed Arthur Pendragon and all of his mythos was real as well. All of his belongings and paraphernalia were found in a cave and brought to New York only to be stolen by high tech mercenaries hired by a maniacal Scotsman with a Shakespeare obsession and the goal of using the Scrolls to gain ultimate magical power.
His plans were foiled by a group of top secret Scottish agents, one of whom washed ashore after climbing on a jet in midair in the middle of a thunderstorm to steal the Scrolls back. He befriended Robbins, disappeared as soon as the sun came up, then MacBeth arrived on his doorstep to steal the Scrolls back from Hudson. Hudson returned at nightfall and Robbins found MacBeth's address—he casually bought Fort Tryon, by the way— then Hudson and his Scottish secret agent team fought MacBeth at Fort Tryon in a climactic showdown.
The Scrolls were nearly burned because they were thought worthless by the tyrant but thankfully Hudson's "clan" kept their leader from making that mistake. MacBeth let them all go for seemingly no reason and they returned the Scrolls to the museum in secret while MacBeth disappeared without a trace. And no one was the wiser, save Robbins who had the entire tale recanted to him by Hudson, who was the entire reason he was making these errands and could inquire about The Scrolls of Merlin at the museum right now.
But of course, he couldn't let the boy know any of that, he was sworn to secrecy by his peculiar new friend. Which, to be frank, was quite a flattering privilege he didn't want to take lightly. The information he had was earth shattering and prohibitive, so much so that the insidious MacBeth used his untold wealth to cover up his involvement despite being the owner of Fort Tryon. And yet Robbins, little old washed up writer Robbins, got the complete exclusive straight from the horse's mouth in the comfort of his own home. It was all a little too much to handle, but that part was the most unbelievable.
How'd he get so lucky, to be the one civilian in the entire city, the entire country, the entire world, to know the real story of the Battle for the Scrolls? It was inconceivable how the stars aligned just so that all of these outlandish impossible things happened with him right on the sidelines to take it all in. And yet, here he was, sitting next to kindergarten reading booklets and alphabet worksheets intended to help a soldier even older than himself learn to read.
Robbins slumped down the leather upholstery as butterflies rumbled in his stomach. The only downside to being privy to such incredible secrets was keeping them secret, he reasoned. Not that the blind writer couldn't keep a secret, quite the contrary, he was notorious for holding secrets so long he'd wind up forgetting what secret he was guarding, thus ensuring he'd never reveal it. But holding a secret that juicy just made situations like this a bit... challenging, that's all.
"Makes ya wonder who got 'em back, as a matter fact, I wanna know who's the nut that went an' stole 'em in the first place. Would have to be one screwy squirrel, ya know?" Eddy continued, unaware of just how right he was.
"Yeah, you're tellin' me..." Robbins said under his breath, thoughts of MacBeth leaping to the forefront of his mind. That slick, sharp voice barely masking a quiet wrath, tempered by ambition and purpose. The robust scent of old paper and shaved metal pulled him right back to that ominous and chilling moment the would-be conqueror invaded his peaceful life.
Face to face with a sinister, unpredictable terrorist with no regard for anyone else but himself, Robbins knew in that moment he could have been another casualty in MacBeth's one-man-war for power. It was only because of how familiar with deception MacBeth was that the insidious madman opted to leave Robbins unharmed, he knew the blind writer wasn't lying to him, perhaps he even knew Robbins couldn't lie to him. There was no deceiving the Shakespearean thug that towered over him, and Robbins thanked God he didn't need to try.
Hudson had disappeared without an explanation and without a trace, making it easy to be honest and avoid MacBeth's wrath, a clear advantage to Hudson keeping secrets from Robbins. It soothed the nagging need to know as much as possible about him, knowing that Hudson was protecting him as much as himself by withholding certain information from Robbins. It made it easier to close those file cabinets of queries and simply enjoy Hudson just as he was, his mysterious new compatriot who was eager to be taught by Robbins. Something that still took the old writer by surprise, a warm sensation blossomed in his chest.
"So Boss," Eddy spoke up, pulling Robbins back to reality. "Ya gonna tell me what's with the kiddie books? Ya ain't got no grandkids or nothin'. You didn't pick up teachin' neither, otherwise I'd have been drivin' ya to school start of this month. So I mean, what's the deal, huh?" he asked curiously, and Robbins had to applaud his deductive skills. Eddy was much shaper than he let on.
"Let's just say I'm takin' a special interest in one very special student" Robbins smoothed, hoping it would be enough to throw Eddy off the scent.
"Oh yeah? One o' 'em, uhhh, special needs kids or somethin'?"
Robbins nearly howled with laughter, but bit back his cheek just in time. "Somethin' like that" he squeaked out. He's got special needs alright, just not the ones you're thinking of, kiddo.
"Yeah I gotta cousin like that. My aunt said it's cuz he kept stickin' forks in electric sockets as a baby"
"Is that right?" Robbins managed to say while stifling his giggles.
"Yeah. Good kid, tho. Real sweet" Eddy spoke genuinely as he whipped the car around a corner. "Just... can't leave 'im alone wit' forks no mo' " he lamented.
"I see. Well give him my regards" Robbins nodded.
"Sure, I'll do that" he assured as he settled the car into a parking spot and shifted gears. "Here we are" he announced as he got out of the car.
He swiftly flung open Robbins's door and gently took his hand to lead him out of the vehicle. Robbins stuck his cane out and gathered his footing as Eddy closed the door back and led him to the front stairs of the museum, and after a short trek, they were met with a gust of warm air leading into the museum's foyer. A welcomed change to the crisp Autumn breeze that chilled Robbins to the bone, regardless of the thickness of his sweater. Was it time to break out the coats already? It wasn't even October yet.
As they entered the spacious great hall, Eddy tentatively released his arm from Robbins's. "You's need me to, uh—" he started uncomfortably.
"No no, don't trouble yourself" Robbins waved off. "I'm gonna speak with the museum staff, why don't we meet back here in an hour or so?" he offered politely. No sense in the kid being attached to his hip in here if he didn't want to be.
"Okay Boss" Eddy began to walk away, but Robbins called out to him.
"And Eddy, you're in a museum. A place dedicated to accumulating knowledge and art from an assortment of eras and cultures. Take the opportunity to learn about something, get some culture" he instructed, motioning to the great wide expanse of knowledge before them.
"Yeah okay" the young man replied, then after a beat of silence. "Think they got a spot about sports or somethin'?"
Robbins sighed in exasperation before throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "Yeah, check the gift shop" he groaned.
Eddy practically kicked his heels together before exclaiming, "Sweet! Thanks Boss". He rushed past Robbins, his footsteps receding fast as an indication of just how excited he was for the least intellectual part of the entire museum.
"What am I gonna do with that boy?" Robbins grumbled as he shook his head in disappointment. He refocused his energy on the main reason he was visiting the museum and called out for assistance in clear view of whoever was working the Help Desk.
A well spoken gentleman directed him to the Medieval Art Exhibit in a timely manner and informed him that the expert he wanted to speak with was on the premises. The gentleman went to fetch the archeologist as Robbins took a seat on the well polished wooden bench just beside him, an old friend faithfully stationed where he always was.
For the Metropolitan Museum of Art was an old haunt of Robbins, a precious sanctuary of culture, learning, and history. He'd been up and down these halls dozens, maybe hundreds of times as a young man. Whether it was copious school trips, lazy weekends with no friends to play with, or later in his life when he took pride in gaining culture and knowledge especially when it concerned mythology and folklore.
Yes, he supposed he was always enthralled with The Met, it was certainly quite the place for people like himself. History buffs, mythology fans, art enthusiasts, culturally conscious individuals. Not to say that Robbins fancied himself an intellectual or anything so pretentious, he may be a writer but it never made him think especially high of himself.
No, for Robbins, the museum was a sanctuary of sorts. A repository of knowledge and relics of the past, a peaceful serene place where no one was in a rush and nothing was a crisis, a stark contrast to the rest of the infamously sleepless New York City. It was a reprieve from the daily grind, a place he could come to and just be at peace, where the air was still and the wide open spaces muffled most sounds into inoffensive echos that filtered in and out of sight.
However, that morning it was conspicuously quiet he noticed. Usually there was a steady crowd of people meandering about, taking in the sights, taking notes for school projects and the like. But today, there was no one, at least not in the Medieval Art Exhibit he currently was stationed. No little kids to marvel at the armor of knights, no artists to examine the ornate paintings of royalty and nobles, no history buffs to examine the everyday items and architecture of the past. It was just him and the distant echos of the museum staff fluttering from one wing to the other.
So it came as a shock when this quiet stillness was broken by a mysterious sound, one that shouldn't have been possible for Robbins to hear. He perked his head up and began turning all around to get a read on where it was coming from specifically, as well as what it was making the sound. Some kind of nondescript melody resonating faintly off the walls, the echos dampening it down significantly. Still, he could hear it rather persistently, though not clearly, as he stood to his feet again. He strained and strained to understand what could be making such an ominous sound, until finally he could pick up some relatively hidden details.
It was an instrument, a string instrument, being strummed in an odd rhythm. The gentleness of the tone and the beauty of the sound instantly lead him to believe it was a harp of some sort. Who would be playing a harp, of all instruments, he wondered. And who would play a harp here of all places? He contemplated walking closer to the vibrating chords, but a tentativeness overwhelmed him for a reason he couldn't accurately explain.
It was just a feeling washing over him, like if he rushed towards the clandestine playing, he'd scare it away or something. As if it was alive, a majestic yet timid creature uncomfortable with sudden shifts and changes to its atmosphere. But if he played it safe and gradually made his way in its direction, would that be alright? The sound became ever so slightly louder with each passing moment and more details along with it.
The odd rhythm became much more refined, identifiable, and expertly done. Robbins wouldn't have been surprised if by the time he made it to the harpist, he would be shaking hands with a master. The melody was mystifying, enchanting... enticing, he had to admit. Like a siren's call beckoning him to come closer and closer, promising a sweet relief or payoff for his blind obedience. A sultry sound that had gotten hold of him, softly whispering a sweet language he didn't understand... but desired to.
Robbins shook his head and sat back down with a staunch thud. He was just hearing things, he reasoned. There was no harp, his wild imagination was playing tricks on him like it often did and he was simply trying to entertain himself in a place he once considered mystical. That's all there was to it. And just like that, the sound died in his ears and the regular ambiance replaced it, like nothing ever happened. Proving to him that it was just a freak flare-up of his mischievous imagination after all.
But he could still hear something that wasn't a product of his own mind; the sound of shoes clacking towards him and the hurried breaths of a flustered woman, papers rustling in her hands as she called out to him.
"Hello there?" she spoke in a posh English accent. "Are you the gentleman who wanted to speak to The Scrolls of Merlin discoverer?" her voice lilted higher when she mentioned The Scrolls, clearly excited.
"Ah, yes I did. And you are, ma'am?" he offered his hand in her general direction.
She shook it with vigor as she introduced herself. "Professor Lydia Duane, at your service, Mr..?"
"Robbins. Just Robbins, please"
"Well sir—Robbins—you've caught me at precisely the right time. I was just taking a break from working on The Scrolls and while I don't normally speak with the press, my partner Arthur is indisposed at the moment so I'm on journalist duty" she explained succinctly and without an ounce of nervousness.
Immediately she asserted herself as an intellectual force to be reckoned with, quick witted, no nonsense, yet welcoming and professionally courteous. Professor Duane spoke like she was Robbins's age, possibly even older, but her voice betrayed that assumption as it had a youthful edge to it. Some vitality, some energy that wasn't present in most older people's voices. Perhaps it was the accent, perhaps it was because she had walked a long way to speak with him, perhaps it was something else altogether, but Robbins got the distinct feeling she was not just book smart but wise as well. A potent combination to be sure.
She also claimed to be on break but was currently rustling through some papers, meaning she took her work very seriously because she wasn't truly on break, merely lessened her workload momentarily to grab a bite or something. In which case she knew her stuff and was proud of her field of study, so she had to have a wealth of knowledge on The Scrolls of Merlin, Merlin himself, and just about everything Robbins could think to ask her. Fantastic, he had lucked out.
"Now, what can I do for you?" she asked politely, a warmness to her tone despite the speed and weariness present. Robbins cleared his throat before continuing.
"Well, ya see, I'm writin' a book about Merlin. And I wanted to see if you could tell me anything about The Scrolls of Merlin, so I can get a better handle of the historical accuracy of Merlin and King Arthur" he explained. "I'm a big fan of all things Arthurian, especially Merlin. He's sorta my favorite mythological figure" he added with a sheepish grin.
She inhaled a strong breath and shot her words out quickly, "Well sir, we still need to cross-reference the information with other findings and documents, establish authenticity through further testing, double and triple check our initial translation of the text, and, well, a laundry list of cataloging and the like" she finished while placing a steadying hand on her head.
Robbins's face fell a bit at the disappointing news, he hadn't considered all of the things that still needed to be done before MacBeth snatched The Scrolls from them at sea. He just assumed that once they got them back, they would work all night to get themselves back on track. Yet another good reason to hold the inconsiderate terrorist in contempt.
"Unfortunately you'll have to wait a few months before the findings will be finalized and ready to be shared with the public" Professor Duane informed, equally as disappointed as Robbins.
"I was afraid of that..." he sighed. "Is there anything you can tell me about the Scrolls, anything at all to help me get started on this book? I'd really appreciate whatever you can talk about" he practically begged.
He could feel Professor Duane's eyes scan him from head to toe, studying him. Sizing him up, for what reason he wasn't sure, but he definitely felt the unmistakable gaze of someone eyeing him, looking for something to discover about him. And it was then, in that tentative moment of study, that he noticed a shift in the archeologist's demeanor, just before she deftly sat on the bench next to him. A change in the atmosphere that would certainly lead them both down an otherwise restricted path. One he hoped would lead him to something that would assist his writing, or at least be a nice little trivia factoid to put with all his other Merlin info.
She inhaled and held the breath, almost as if she was debating if Robbins was worth disclosing this information to. Thankfully, she unfroze and continued down their new path. "Have I any information on The Scrolls themselves, no..." another careful pause that merely drew Robbins closer in. "But there was one other curious thing we took note of in the Welsh cave" she offered.
Robbins blinked rapidly, "Curious thing?"
"Yes, just as I opened the chest containing The Scrolls of Merlin, there was..." she struggled to find the word. "An inconceivable force that reached out of it! This blue vapor shot out of the gap in the chest, wrapping all around me. Like the tentacles of an octopus or the coiling of a snake!"
"Ah, yes. I read about that in the newspaper. Your mystical experience in the cave"
"Why yes, but they didn't print everything. I'm afraid they thought we were quite mad" she laughed a bit. "Can't say I blame 'em"
"Ya mean there's more to what happened in the cave?" Robbins asked incredulously, before she shushed him.
"This isn't a story I can tell freely, so you've gotta keep a lid on it" she whispered, her voice trailing in one direction then another, proving she was surveying their surroundings for prying eyes. But Robbins couldn't understand why she would feel the need to do that, nor why it was something she couldn't tell anybody. But most importantly, why she'd chosen to tell him—a complete stranger—whatever her sorted tale was. And he would have to wait for an answer, because onward she went with her story.
"Anyway, the blue vapor ensnared my arm faster than I could move it back. But move back, I did! I was startled beyond belief! But thinking back on it, the winds didn't hurt me at all. In fact it was more like a cool breeze... "
"A sentient cool breeze..." Robbins bit back. "In the middle of a cave?"
"No, I know it's weird, but it's true! It whipped out in wild arcs, swiftly and enchanting, it encircled us and we couldn't help but shout a bit in response. I mean, it was just so unbelievable, so unprecedented, so-so unquantifiable"
"So magical?" Robbins added jokingly.
"Exactly!" was Professor Duane's dead serious response. "And just when we thought it would keep us trapped there, it branched out and opened up around us. Like it was... letting us go, for lack of a better term" she said as her hands dropped to her lap defeated. Being at a loss for words must be a new experience for her, he reasoned.
"The vapor gathered behind us, towards the mouth of the cave, and suddenly—and I assure you, I am not pulling your leg on this—" she said while tapping his knee "The vapor twisted in the most unnatural way and curled itself into a form. It condensed briefly into an image—or a mirage—of... of a face"
"Merlin's face?" he said flatly.
"I swear to you, the tendrils of vapor accumulated and shaped into the image of a man's face, with fierce eyes and a long flowing beard. It looked exactly—100% exactly—like the countless depictions of Merlin everyone is familiar with"
"... And then?"
"Then... the winds rushed back into the chest and snapped it shut with a loud clank. And when I opened it again, there were The Scrolls of Merlin staring back at me"
"Fascinatin'," Robbins said dryly as he situated his cane to help him stand. "Well thanks for the laughs, but—"
"I know, I know, it's insane! I understand it sounds impossible, I do. But I swear to you, it really did happen" Duane said while grabbing Robbins's hand to halt him. "That cave was without a doubt the cave of Merlin the Wizard, those scrolls were written by his hand, and the artifacts stored there were enchanted. Magic really, truly exists, Robbins" her inflection became noticeably more cheerful.
"Or there was some mild hallucinogenic in the chest and when you opened it you unknowingly pulled a hidden trigger that shot the drug into your faces and caused you to see something that wasn't there" Robbins reasoned, not bothering to hide his exhaustion with the conversation. The woman was brilliant, but she had more than a few screws loose. This was a waste of time.
"Well, we would have discovered something like that in our initial testing and sample gathering, wouldn't we?" Duane countered, surprising Robbins with the logic. "I'm convinced that there won't be a scientific explanation for it. It was magic, Robbins. True magic really does exist in this world" she declared, inspiration clear in her tone.
"Okay, how can you, a scientist—better yet, a professor of anthropology—believe in something as preposterous as magic?" he finally demanded in frustration. His voice reverberated in the empty expanse, bringing his temper back down with an embarrassed cough. Professor Duane was silent beside him, a tense atmosphere enveloping them both thanks to his outburst. But just as he was about to apologize for his rudeness, she exhaled through her nose, stifling a chuckle and a smile clear in her lilt.
"Well sir, if I may," she began calmly. "I've never ruled it out, the fact that magic could indeed be real. There's never been proof one way or the other. I've always had this fascination with the things science couldn't explain. I suppose that's what drew me to anthropology in the first place. Exploring how cultures of the past went about explaining things without the aid of science" she mused with mirth.
"And then when this happened, I just knew that all of my fascinations were vindicated. I believe in magic because I experienced it firsthand. I witnessed it with my own eyes, something incredible and inexplicable by all scientific explanation. And it happened to me, me! Of all people, little old me and Arthur!" she exclaimed, giddier than a child who just caught a glimpse of Santa Claus.
"There's nothing special about us, nothing at t'all, we just opened ourselves to the possibilities of something like magic being real. We were just minding our own business, doing our jobs, when suddenly we were face to face with the most mystical cave in the world. So I think because we were open to it, and we didn't reject it, magic found its way to us. And so, here we are" Duane leaned back on the bench, a content smile clear on her face.
"Magic is real, Robbins. But it's up to each of us to reach out and search for it or open ourselves to the idea of it, embrace the possibilities and we'll have a chance to grab hold of it. Or we could intentionally reject it and continue the way we're going" she snarked pointedly, earning her an unimpressed frown from the blind writer. "So, Robbins, I guess the question isn't 'do you believe in magic', rather, the question is 'do you wish to believe in it?' " she deposited and let him stew on her quandary for a while.
Robbins struggled to accept her radical ideas on magic—honest-to-God magic—she was an anthropologist, a professor, a woman of science, and here she was going on and on about magic winds in mystic caves. It was all just a bit too ridiculous for him. But he couldn't completely shut her perspective off, try as he might. Something about it was enticing; maybe it was just her infectious enthusiasm or maybe it was the fact that Merlin being confirmed as a real person had dealt a significant blow to his perspective on magic.
After all, if the most famous wizard in the world was a real person, there was a good chance that the magical things he did were real too. An idea he had rumbling in the back of his mind ever since he'd read about the Merlin cave discovery. But the notion that magic, if it was real, relied on the individual to be open to it, to not close it off as a possibility in order to give it a chance to reveal itself to them, was very intriguing. The only problem with that is every kid believes in magic and fantasy and all things in the land of imagination, and everyone is a kid for a significant amount of time.
Even if adults were incapable of believing in magic, how in the world would magic remain elusive to children, the chiefest believers of it? Surely they would hold onto their experience of magic for the rest of their lives and thus a lot more people in the world would believe in magic. Not to mention, tv and cameras have been around for a while now, how has no one, in the entire world, never gotten a magical thing on camera or photographed or confirmed by anyone else? There were too many questions that he couldn't reconcile to accept this craziness, which explained his frustration with the woman who posed the question.
Because of course he wished magic was real, who wouldn't? It's magic! The concept that made the impossible possible, the idea that everyone and everything is connected and those connections can be used to do extraordinary things by otherwise ordinary people, the process of speaking an incantation and bending the material world to your liking. All of it is incredible, a dream come true for him, literally. If magic was real, why, he'd be the first in line at wizard camp to learn all the spells he could and he'd help fix up this ol' world.
And suddenly he recognized the distant waining of that illusive harp whispering in his ears again. But this time, he had someone else there with him to confirm if it was real. Quickly, as the ethereal tones wafted in the room he turned to the archeologist.
"Do you hear that?" he whispered seriously.
"Hear what?" she asked, her accent thick with confusion.
"That-that melody... in the distance. A harp" he pointed in the direction of the mystical tones, but as soon as he did, they abruptly died out once more, leaving nothing behind, not even echos.
"Harp, you say?" Duane replied intrigued, as she turned her head to and fro in a futile effort to catch some indication of the harp. The blind writer sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, a grimace contorted his features. Was he actually going senile now? Why was his imagination playing such cruel tricks on him, now of all times? Here, of all places?
"Professor, why're ya tellin' me all this?" he groaned exasperated.
She thought for a moment before answering. "Truthfully? I don't know... but you just have this air about you..." she trailed off, which genuinely made him uncomfortable. "I don't know. Perhaps you being a Merlin fan and a writer made me think you'd want to hear my experience in his cave. My apologies if I was mistaken" she added shamefully.
Robbins stood to his feet as he rubbed his forehead. "I... I want to believe you, Professor. I really do. But I have this nagging cynicism that won't let me go along with you" he paused to carefully weigh his next words.
"I'm sure you had a very intense experience in the cave and Merlin probably was a real person that existed a long time ago. But I just don't know if that proves magic is real, sorry" he laughed a little at the end, wondering how his life led him to such a ridiculous moment as this.
But Professor Duane was undeterred by his cynicism and stood up to meet his eye, so to speak. "I think if you want to believe in magic, if you truly wish to experience it, to find it... one way or another, it'll find its way to you. It's only a matter of time" she said confidently as she lightly thumped his shoulder, a playful gesture.
Robbins rubbed the shoulder absentmindedly, "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for takin' time outta your busy schedule to speak with me Professor Duane. I look forward to the exhibit" he offered his hand to her amicably and she vigorously shook it.
"Yes, of course! I believe it will be quite enlightening and exciting for everyone. Take care, Robbins" the archeologist released her firm grip and patted his bicep before walking back the way she came, papers shuffling in her grip and footsteps reverberating off the walls as she went.
Robbins listened as she faded into the distance, a strange woman with seemingly contradictive ideals, but a sunny disposition and a true heart for her craft. He couldn't blame the newspapers from leaving out her absurd statements about magic being real, but he ultimately felt glad knowing someone like her existed. The blind writer didn't believe her, but it was refreshing to see someone so willing to believe in the mystical and unexplainable. Years and years ago, he wasn't much different from the shameless Professor Duane, he believed magic could be real and some form of it was still out there waiting to be tapped into some kind of way.
And then he grew up, learned how the world actually worked, and those beliefs fell by the wayside, as they were always meant to. Somewhere along the way she picked hers back up or, according to her, she never truly abandoned them in the first place. Add that to an interesting experience in a cave that houses Merlin's artifacts and personal scrolls, suddenly it makes complete sense that she would believe magic is real despite her profession. Robbins supposed archeology attracted eccentric individuals anyway, so she would of course fit right in with the rest of the nutcases.
He shook his head in amusement as he made his way back to the Great Hall. He shouldn't judge the poor woman so harshly, she was still fresh from a crazy ordeal, one she still didn't have all the facts from.
Such as, who stole The Scrolls and who valiantly stole them back, just for starters. For all she knew, The Scrolls spirited away from the thieves and floated into the police station for that detective to return them. Maybe she thought the inscription on the chest meant that The Scrolls could tell who was worthy of reading them and who wasn't or something equally ludicrous. Still, he couldn't blame her, she didn't have any proof of the contrary, so why wouldn't she believe in mystical machinations?
And again, he couldn't be too hard on her considering he was 35% convinced he was starting to go insane himself. Hearing musical instruments no one else could out of nowhere, that was pretty damning evidence of a mind loosing its grip on reality. As bizarre as it is, he'd never had anything like this happen before so he could still chalk it up to another anomaly to go along with a completely nonsensical day.
After descending the stairs leading to the Medieval Art Exhibit, he was back in the Great Hall, where the familiar laughter of his young companion rang loudly, accompanied by the flirtatious giggles of a few girls. Typical Eddy, always chasing skirts who were happy to be chased. Still, he had hoped the boy would at least attempt to take in the sights of the museum, not the patrons. He cleared his throat loudly as he approached and Eddy's laughter quickly died down as he scrambled to Robbins's side.
" 'Eyyy Boss! How'd it go?" he asked quickly, a chuckle tinting his words, as he took Robbins by the arm and walked with him.
"Not as well as your endeavor, I bet"
"Oh them? They wuz just, ya know, admirin' my do" he said with a cocky joy. "I keep tellin' ya, chicks dig the hair, Boss" Robbins could feel the lad reaching for his trusty comb in his jacket pocket closest to him. No doubt giving his perfectly greased and quaffed hair a quick touch up.
"How could I forget?" Robbins rolled his eyes as they were met with the bracing air outside. "Did you at least try to learn somethin' in there, kid?" he asked much like a father would his disappointing son.
"Fo' sho', Boss! I got those girls' numbers memorized"
"You know what I mean, Edward" Robbins said pointedly, causing Eddy to squirm.
"Aw c'mon, Boss, wit' the government name and everythin'!" he whined back.
"You should take your education more seriously"
"I do, I do, honest. But I'm not in school right now, wanted to turn my brain off for a sec, ya know?"
"Never turn your brain off, always keep it on. You'll never know when you need it" Robbins admonished authoritatively.
"A'right, a'right, I get it" Eddy groaned as they finally made it to the last step. "Ya sound just like my old man" he teased.
"Then you should listen to him, too. He has a good head on his shoulders" Robbins replied sternly as he got into the backseat.
"Yeah, yeah..." Eddy waved off as he closed Robbins's door, then went around to the driver's side.
"Where we headed now, Dad?" he asked sarcastically as he slammed his door shut.
"Let's go see Mr. Jaffe"
Eddy's seat squeaked and stretched as he leaned back to look at Robbins. "Really? It's been a minute since ya been there, neighborhood's gone to hell" he warned.
"I'm aware. Let's go" Robbins said staunchly.
Eddy's seat crinkled and groaned again as the car shifted gears. "A'right. But don't think I'm jumpin' in front of a gun for your old butt. I got ladies to call. But I'll call the cops for ya before them"
"My hero" Robbins joked as the car rolled out of the parking spot and they rode forward.
Eddy was right to be fearful though, he had to admit. The neighborhood they were headed to was notoriously bad back in the day and getting worse with each passing year. Now it was a cesspool of gangs and thieves, drug addicts and vagrants, ne'er-do-wells and thugs alike. But as was all too true of most rundown places, there were also good people, honest citizens who were just financially worse off than the average person. Poor people who were just trying to make it day to day, the people that made the neighborhood worth going to. And Charlie Jaffe knew better than anyone it was those people that needed as much help as they could get.
So Charlie kept his grocery store open in the middle of that rundown neighborhood, refusing to be run out of town by the criminal element because he knew he was needed. Without him, the neighborhood would certainly perish, all those innocent people set adrift in a raging sea without a single life line.
Charlie had a big heart, too big for his own good, Robbins acknowledged, but he couldn't just abandon his people to drown while he swam to still waters. No, Charlie wasn't that kind of man, he was far more honorable than the average person, he had a duty to fulfill. A thankless job, to be certain, one that was overlooked and often misunderstood. But faithfully he did it, for decades he continued to provide food to the people of his rundown corner of the city.
And whenever Robbins ventured into the city, he always took time to visit Charlie. To give him some much needed support and appreciation for doing a valiant job. Plus, Charlie had all of his brands in the same place, he didn't have to go store hopping to get everything he needed. And his recent guest had already eaten all of his crumpets, it was time for some grocery shopping.
Eddy rushed through the streets as they got progressively seedier and seedier, litter and wandering pedestrians mounted up as they made their way to Jaffe's General Store, nestled right between an abandoned restaurant currently housing a group of hobos and drug addicts, and an apartment complex housing the downtrodden families his store services. Eddy stopped the car right in front of the store, but refused to turn the engine off, or even take it out of drive.
"Sorry Boss, but I ain't takin' no chances wit' the ride. Go on in, door's right in front of ya when ya step out"
"I understand, Eddy. I won't be long" the blind writer pushed his door open calmly as he stepped out.
"Yeah, heard that one b'fore..." Eddy mumbled under his breath, his mouth right in front of something to obscure his voice even further. Most likely the steering wheel considering he was on edge and ready to move at the slightest sign of danger.
Robbins tapped his cane in front of him until he reached the front door, and just as he pushed the handle bar to pry the door open, he heard the boisterous voice of his old friend.
"Robbins! What a pleasant surprise!" Charlie greeted jovially, his footsteps clacking against the floor tiles closer and closer to Robbins. Before he could return the greeting, his hand was already clutched in a vice grip, tight enough to take his breath away for a moment, but not enough to really hurt.
"Was in the neighborhood and needed to restock on food" Robbins joked as he pulled Charlie into a quick hug. "How's everything, Charlie?"
"Ah, ya know, li'l a this, li'l a that. Never a dull moment down here" he laughed as he patted Robbins's back with strength uncharacteristic of a man 10 years his senior.
"Lemme set'cha up. Ya outta everythin' or just the essentials?" Charlie called out as he made his way down the aisles, gathering a couple items from the shelves as he passed.
"Pretty much low on everythin', expectin' company on the holidays, ya know how it goes" Robbins called back.
"Ah yeah, I keep forgettin' it's damn near October. So much crazy stuff's been goin' on lately, I still haven't caught all the way up" Charlie called back, rustling through an assortment of items as he trekked down another aisle. "And things are gettin' even crazier and crazier now!"
"Ya got that right, Charlie"
"I mean, people runnin' 'round screamin' 'bout gargoyles comin' to life," he began, slowly making his way back to Robbins at the front desk. "The Pack's gone psycho, got arrested, then broke outta Ryker's," he continued, dropping the items on the counter.
"Those crazy robot things that crash landed on Liberty Island in January, that-that-that freaky..." he searched as he snapped his fingers. "Thing tearin' through Time Square in February, not to mention that nutjob that robbed me—"
"Woah woah woah, back up" Robbins interjected swiftly, before Charlie could get going again on something else.
"Oh, didn't I mention that?" he said cheekily.
"I would've remembered if ya did. What happened?" Robbins inquired, leaning in close. Charlie stopped scanning the groceries and cleared his throat before leaning in to spill the beans.
"Strangest thing yet, I tell ya. This slimy jerkoff kept stormin' in here and holdin' me up. Made off with nearly 6 grand—6 grand, Jeff!" he threw up his hands, evident by the quick upward breeze that blew past Robbins's face.
"Jesus, man, I'm sorry you lost so much"
"No no, see that's the thing" Charlie clarified, cutting Robbins's apology off. "This guy would always just waltz in here, stick me up, and waltz back out, like it was the easiest thing in the world. He robbed me 3 times in January alone. And every time it was the same, calmly bust in after hours, shove a gun in my face, yank the money out the register, and on his merry way he went" he finished listing, slapping his hand down on the counter for emphasis. "But, but! Here's the kicker!" he said snatching a bag and placing the items inside carefully.
" 'Round the first of February, the same street scumbag comes flyin' in, sweatin' bullets—at the start of February, mind you—huggin' the wall for dear life, like somebody was out to get 'im or somethin'. I was just 'bout to open up for the early birds on the block, so I didn't have nothin' the guy didn't already take the night b'fore."
"So I says, 'Oy vey, not again. You wuz just here last night, ya meshugana'! Can't ya go find some other poor schmuck to rob?' And he comes up to the counter—shiverin' like a wet cat, I tell ya—and he says, he says, 'I'-I'm not robbin', ya man' and puts the gun—he puts the freakin' gun on the counter and slides it to me" he finished, several stiff taps on the counter to really emphasize that last detail.
Robbins was at a loss for words and could only squeak out a bewildered, "What?"
"That's what I said, man!" Charlie shouted, almost as bewildered as Robbins. "I-I-I says 'Whaddya talkin' 'bout?' but the guy, he says 'Do me a favor, call the cops so's I can turn myself in'! And out he pulls a sack of money, with all the money—all 6 grand!—and-and he plops it right on the counter! Every dollar, right there, like it never got stolen!" he revealed, energetically slapping Robbins's shoulder.
"Wh—well—Why? Why would he have such a change of heart?" Robbins struggled, completely enthralled in the story.
"That's just what I said, Jeff! I-I asked 'Why? Why? What's this all about?', cuz, ya know, I figured he got bored of the same ol' routine, and he was lookin' to mix things up, mess with me a little, and make off with another 2 grand" he reasoned awkwardly.
"But no, no no no, the guy, he keeps lookin' over his shoulder expectin' somebody to bust in any second and tear him limb from limb. He slinks down real low," Charlie followed suit and crouched down beneath the countertop. "Like under the counter almost, and he says—and I'll never forget this—he-he says, 'Cuz six monsters just told me to'!" he finished with a comical imitation of the thief's voice.
"Monsters?"
"I swear to Christ, that's exactly what he said!" Charlie laughed out loud, smacking his knee. " 'Six monsters just told me to'! Can you believe that?!" he placed a steadying hand on Robbins's shoulder as he continued.
"What a wackjob that street scum was—not that I'm complainin'! I'm glad he cracked, I was 'bout to be evicted before he brought back my 6 grand. And I called the cops too, they hauled his sorry butt to jail, and ever since then, things've been real quiet 'round here" he finished, patting a grocery bag to let Robbins know that he was finished bagging his items.
"That's... that's quite a story, Charlie" Robbins breathed with mirth, grabbing hold of a bag.
"Ya tellin' me!" Charlie laughed, moving around the counter to walk beside him. "I ain't sayin' there really wuz monsters, but somethin' put the fear of God into that no-good punk! And man, am I glad it did too!—or they, whatever!" he scoffed as he pushed the door open and held it for Robbins.
"Yeah, it sounds like whatever caused him to return the money is on the side of the angels" Robbins added as he reached Eddy's car.
"Amen to that, brother!" Charlie agreed, placing the groceries in the seat with the reading booklets. "Guess the strange stuff happenin' 'round here ain't all bad!" he shrugged before laughing.
A smile stretched across Robbins face in response as he reached his hand out again. "Suppose so. Thanks, Charlie" the man shook his hand with gusto. "Take care of yourself, now"
"You too, Jeff!" he said, giving him one last powerful pat on the back. "Hey, watch out for those monsters for me, huh!" he joked as he walked back to his store.
"Hahaha, I'll keep my eyes peeled!" Robbins quipped, pointing to his shades. Charlie howled with laughter for a moment before his door bell chimed and slammed shut again.
Eddy was all too ready to drive off though, so Robbins barely heard the front door close over the sound of the car roaring to life. Robbins understood, the kid really wasn't used to streets these mean, much to his chagrin. He loved to put on the tough guy front, what young man didn't, but he wasn't stupid enough to keep up the front for the sake of his wellbeing. So the blind writer wasn't offended by Eddy's behavior, not much offended him these days to be honest, it just made him chuckle to himself.
"You get us to safety yet, Eddy?" he asked with a coy smile.
"Yeah, Boss. I didn't like the look of some guy who was walkin' down the street so I hightailed it. We're good now, tho"
"Good, good" he chuckled. "You take good care of me, Eddy, thank you"
"No prob, Boss. You're, like, my favorite client so it's all good" he replied honestly, before flicking on the radio.
An old jazz tune played as they rolled along, one Robbins was familiar with and appreciated immensely. The boy didn't have to cater to his tastes if he didn't want to, but he always did. Robbins never really asked why, but he just assumed it was because his father shared the same taste in music as Robbins. Something he'd have to ask Eddy's father himself one day, if he can get them over the house one of these days.
The rest of their drive was quiet and uneventful, which Robbins was grateful for. The ride back to his estate was a long one and he already had his fill of excitement for one day, a peaceful drive back home was just what the doctor ordered. Thankfully, traffic had cleared for the most part and Eddy was able to weave in and out of it pretty easily, which made the journey back home shorter than usual.
Finally, they arrived at Robbins's driveway, the crisp river air wafting that familiar scent around them. Eddy helped Robbins out of the car before gathering up all the groceries and walking inside the house with him. Gilly happily greeted them both as they deposited their items where they needed to go, Robbins instructing as Eddy did the storing. And with that, his mission was a success, he was more than prepared for Hudson's next visit.
"Well, Boss. If that's everythin', I'mma jet home. Got some honey's to chat up, 'member?" he bragged while nudging Robbins playfully.
Robbins put his hand on Eddy's shoulder, holding him in place. "Do me one more favor, kid" he instructed as he walked to his study.
"Sure thing" Eddy said, following Robbins, who was at his bookshelf tracing his fingers along the wood to find his desired book. Within seconds, he plucked it from its hiding place and handed it to his young companion.
"You already got me a copy of this one, Boss" Eddy reminded as he took it from Robbins.
The book was his first novel, the story of the famous Beowulf and his encounter with Grendel, but the story was told from the monster's point of view. It remained one of his proudest achievements, not because it was particularly better written than his other works, merely because it was his first completed work that proved he really could be a writer.
"It's for your cousin" he corrected. "The one with the affinity for wall sockets?"
Eddy shook his head in shock before asking, "Seriously?"
"Read that to him. Let me know if he likes it" Robbins said, patting his shoulder affectionately.
" 'Eyyy, thanks Boss! I'm sure Mikey'll like that" Eddy replied happily before shaking Robbins's hand, a quick energetic gesture, before he said goodbye to Robbins and Gilly.
And with that, Robbins and Gilly were alone again, blissfully content. Gilly brushed up against his shins and growled happily as he bent down to pet her.
"Ya hungry, Gil? Lemme rustle ya up somethin' nice" he cooed, before rising to his feet and walking to the kitchen.
Gilly trotted behind him, her breath excited and even, while he dug through the cupboards to fetch her the fresh bag of dog food Charlie had just given him. As soon as he turned around, Gilly had already brought her food bowl and nudged it against Robbins's foot before barking excitedly. Robbins chuckled and broke the bag open before pouring it into the bowl, Gilly pacing energetically in front of him as he did.
"There ya go, girl. Bon appetite" he motioned to her and she dove right in, crunching and shuffling the bite sized chunks wildly.
As she did, Robbins leaned against the counter, but recoiled a bit as he touched something unfamiliar. He picked up the unknown object and was immediately reminded of what it was and how it got there. When he and Eddy brought in the groceries, Eddy must have set the kindergarten booklets aside to focus on the food. Robbins freed one of the booklets from the bag, handling it with care.
This was the start of his new commitment to Hudson, the beginning of a long journey. He felt a twinge of excitement in his stomach, something he rarely ever felt, but ever since he'd met Hudson when he washed up on the beach, it's come back into his life. Excitement, motivation, fervor, they had dried up along with his stories, his muse had taken them years ago without warning. Leaving him hollow and directionless for the first time since he was a teenager, even after he got home from 'Nam he still had a direction, a goal to achieve. Relearn how to live life without vision, something he managed to do through some internal strength he didn't even know he had.
But ever since he completed his last work in early '89, he'd sunk into a slump, worst one of his life. Day in and day out, he just sat like a bump on a log, wishing something would jumpstart him again. And finally, his wishes came true, in the form of a Scottish secret agent powerhouse. Incredibly strange, yes, but it worked, didn't it? Robbins took out the rest of the booklets and stacked them where he knew he'd easily find them again, before kneeling to Gilly's height to pet her soft coat.
He still didn't believe in magic, but meeting Hudson and being center stage to the battle for The Scrolls of Merlin certainly felt mythical, or as close as he could get to mythical anyway. Professor Duane's words replayed in his head, the idea that magic can find you if you're open to it and actively desire to see it. He had to admit it was tempting to go along with that mindset, just wish hard enough and it'll happen. Especially since that's just what happened with his slump.
Robbins supposed he was a bit hasty to judge the woman, who was he to discount what she and her colleague experienced in that cave? And she did counter his notion that it was a trap purposefully intended to induce hallucination, much to his chagrin.
Perhaps... just maybe... magic could be real, in one form or another... possibly. Robbins chuckled mockingly at himself as he got up to get a drink.
"Nah, that chick was just crazy"
Author's Note: Uh oh, could there be a double meaning to the title of this fic? Hohohooo, let's leave that one alone for now.
I contemplated making a spoof of OfficeMax or Staples, but nothing sounded right so I just went with the real thing, hope that's okay XD
Eddy is someone I made up based off of the unseen driver that Robbins calls in his only episode during the Goliath Chronicles. I realize the Goliath Chronicles are non-canon, but some of the ideas are used in the comics which are canon, so I didn't think it'd be a problem to borrow some elements in that season. If you're wondering what he looks like, just think of a ruggedly handsome greaser of vague Italian descent and you've got it XD
Eddy obviously can't be seen by Robbins at any time and he definitely wouldn't be seen by Hudson or the gargoyles, so there's never really gonna be an opportunity in story to describe his look. So your imaginations are gonna have to go into overdrive on this character's design, have fun and let me know what you imagined him looking like as you read through!
The Metropolitan Museum of Art thankfully uploaded a map of their exhibits on Google so I could easily place the scenes and characters where they needed to be. Good for Robbins, he only had to walk straight to get to the Medieval section! That made it real easy for me to write it.
Professor Duane Lydia was interesting to think about for this chapter. Thinking about her experience in the cave during "A Lighthouse in the Sea of Time" was very informative. I mean, can you imagine finding a mystical cave and experiencing a crazy magical vision of Merlin's scowling face appearing out of blue winds coming out of a chest? That'd turn anybody into a believer, it would certainly convince me, especially considering that both her and her partner, Dr. Arthur Morwood-Smyth, shared the experience. So they both couldn't have hallucinated the exact same vision and it couldn't be a trick of the light or whatever other excuse would be more plausible outside looking in. The woman saw something magical happen right before her eyes in the cave of a freaking wizard, yeah, she's a die hard magic believer now.
And since magic is a big part of both the Gargoyles Universe and Merlin, the subject of Robbins's new book, I thought it was vital to explore both his ideas on magic potentially being real and her stance on it after her experience. Hopefully it offered some neat back and forth between them as well as some interesting questions for the lore of magic itself in the series.
I had fun with Mr. Jaffe, the grocery store owner. Both he and Eddy are born and raised New Yorkers, the stereotypes personified XD I love playing with accents and speech tics, both of them were a fun excuse to include some New York ones. Eddy, as I said before, is meant to be a young, vague Italian New Yorker, but Mr. Jaffe is meant to be the complete opposite. An older, vaguely Jewish New Yorker, complete with Yiddish phrases and energetic stuttering. Very fun characters to write for, I must say. Who knows, you may even see him again, hohoho
Everything Mr. Jaffe brings up are references to previous episodes, including his debut episode "Reawakening", where Coldstone also debuted as it happens. I wonder if I did that on purpose, hmmmmm. But yeah, the line "people runnin' 'round screamin' 'bout gargoyles comin' to life" is a reference to Hyena's line in "The Thrill of the Hunt" where she heard about gargoyle stories in The Daily Tattler, a newspaper that does not cater to the visually impaired because it's a tabloid, so it was actually Robbins's first time hearing of this phenomena.
The line about The Pack going crazy and breaking out of prison is a reference to "Leader of the Pack", wherein they do all of that. The line about "crazy robots crashing into Liberty Island" is a reference to "The Edge" and the aftermath of the Manhattan's clan battle with Xanatos and his newly upgraded Steel Clan.
I tried to keep all the references to other episodes as news worthy as possible, otherwise how would Mr. Jaffe know about the events and relay them to Robbins? Wouldn't have made sense, right? So I stuck to things that were confirmed to be on the news.
And finally, the book Robbins gives Eddy to read to his cousin is a real book! "Grendel" by John Gardner is a very interesting and brief book, covering a topic that Greg Weisman has admitted Robbins wrote about before (Beowulf). Plus, throwing in some monster sympathy or at least a willingness to explore monstrous characters beyond "evil beasts", fits neatly with Robbins relationship with Hudson, a gargoyle, something that people write off as evil beasts. It felt like a neat little thing to include.
