thisavrou | 002, the afternoon of the 18th

[When Robin had first received her wanted poster in the mail, she had been mortified. When she started receiving messages about it from other people, that emotion changed into one of fear, suspicion and paranoia. The first thing she'd done in response was to head down into the prison planet, away from the Moira and the crew she no longer felt safe around.

It had been more than twenty four hours since then, though , and she's since come to terms with the fact that this isn't a permanent solution. She won't be able to stay on the prison planet forever, and even if she could she certainly didn't want to. Besides the obvious fact that it's a prison, things were starting to get strange down there.

It didn't take long to realize that this isn't the sort of problem she's going to be able to run from - not yet, at least. Even if she isn't ready to board the Moira again, she needs to get out ahead of this problem. ]

This is Nico Robin.

I know some of you got my posters in the mail. I was hoping to know, how many?

[ The first step of dealing with a problem is figuring out how much of one she's dealing with, after all. Maybe if it's just one or two people, she can bribe or threaten them into keeping their mouths shut. Maybe, if she's lucky, she can prevent her face from being associated with that name.]

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[Text is just text, but Rarity can sense that Robin is upset. Who wouldn't be, after all? Especially considering just how excited the poor girl was at the idea of getting a dress of her own. Rarity does feel bad for her, but some things can't be overlooked or avoided.]

Good. It would be dreadful if this was harder than it needs to be.

But now, it seems, we have very little to talk about. I'm terribly sorry.

[Rarity doesn't get a typed response back.

Rest assured, though, that down on Del Pascia, a small child is sobbing in a corner because of her.]

002, the afternoon of the 18th

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