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Full bodied pale-skin woman with long, burnt orange hair, stands before her love in a pale frozen like state in a chamber in a hollow oak tree. wearing Steampunk bronze corset with zippers, ruffle skirt, enormous bust size chest, beautiful legs, face is downturned, expression suggests grief or sadness. its feathers vividly contrasted against the predominantly grayscale background. Rain falls heavily, adding to the melancholic atmosphere, flowing down the cross's at the bottom with rose petals in it. The perspective is from a slightly low angle. The style is painterly and artistic, with emphasis on emotional expression, candlelit room, surrounded by shattered mirrors. Each broken shard reflects visibly violent and painful memories of war, destruction, and despair. The figure, dressed in intricate goth attire, gazes into a single shard, their expression a mix of fear and quiet questioning as flames from the outside world flicker against the cracked glass Pale Frozen Chamber There hidden the whole time a trapdoor, Red thinks to herself is this another trap for her, but she has one last key. Why is Red hesitating now. The more Red goes down farther the colder it gets. Down into the shadows Red can see a chamber can't see inside, Red steps closer out of the shadows of the chamber lies her true love Robin is under a spell. All this time he's been here. The monster's put Robin in a pale frozen like sleep. The Rear White Robin flys above sits on Robin's shoulder taps on his mouth. "Red Whispers," out loud thats it, all Red has to do is cut her palm with the Crimson roses Dagger with a drop of Red's blood on Robin's lips. should awaken Robin from this Pale Frozen Death. The Pale thick ice that coats Robin's, body being to melt, the cold grey tone leaves his skin. Warmth flows back into Robin's skin. Robin gasps for air as the freezing spell completely shatters. He opens his eyes, looking up into the fiery haired and pale face of the woman who saved him. Red sacrifice proved that their love is stronger than death itself
The Lore of Red Robinson
1. The Robin
Robinson sat frozen on the steps of the monument, her fingers laced tightly in lap. The fog thick and cold over the cemetery of the stone crosses.
The weight of her immortality felt heavier on these evenings, when the silence of the memories of a life that used to be warm, vibrant, and shared. She looked down at the weathered base of the stone cross. Her fingers brushed the damp moss, tracing the faint outline of a name she never needed to near to remember.
This was a boundary where her world ended and his eternal rest began. The grief was a familiar, sharp ache, but she didn't weep. She simply waited. Right on cue, a sudden flash of warmth cut through the gray mist.
With a soft ruffle of features, the Robin landed on the highest horizontal beam of the cross, right above her head. Its bright orange red breast glowed like a small ember in a twilight, matching the exact, fiery shade of her hair.
The Robin tilts it's head eyes fixated entirely on her with an intensity that no animal could ever possess. She whispered, "you're here," her voice barely louder than the wind though leaves. The Robin didn't fly away. Instead, letting out a sharp melodic chirp that broke the heavy stillness of the graveyard.
No matter where Red wandered in the mortal realm, and no matter how dark the night became, he always showed up. Always returned to the same place, where they said, goodbye, anchoring his spirit to the earthly world just to assure Red that love doesn't die when the heart stops beating. Red leaned back against the cold stone, closing her eyes as the bird shifted closer, guarding her vigil until the morning light.
The Keepers Crimson
2. Crows Gravestone
The crow rises directly from the shadows casting a dark memory of her lovers death, the crow sits on top of the cross Red is wondering where, the Robin is, why the shift of loss she's feeling all of sudden.
This dark force that's dares to disturb my grief. As the keepers Crimson beneath Reds feet roses grow letting her, life is still out there. She collapses completely into wet damp mossy earth, twisting her fingers through the grass, fiery hair spreading out across the grass like a velvet shroud at the base of the gravestone.
As, Red laying there her memories rushed through her mind. Just one thought, sheds a tear. A wounded heart can heal, but can't bring back a love that death stole away, has simply shattered from the sheer weight of Red's grief.
Red looks up at the cross, thinking about the little vibrant Robin, now it's replaced with a black crow standing tall upon the gravestone its head tilted, its dark eyes reflecting , quietly does not call out, nor does it leave my side.
It's as if the crow once was the Robin who, was my lost lover. Guarding me and my soul. The deepest hours passed through the day in a heavy silence between the shadows of the stone. The crow never broke it's vigil. It reminded perfectly still, a dark sentinel cutting a sharp silhouette against the fading stars.
Below, the crimson roses continued to bloom in the damp earth, their pedals unfurling to drink the freezing midnight dew. They pulsed with a faint, low warmth, keeping the frost from touching Red's skin as she lay cradled in the cold mossy earth.
Black Crows Crying
3. Shattering Glass
A gray, light cracked across the horizon, a sudden terrifying runs through the crows feathers. Red opened her eyes, she looked up at the cross. The crow was no longer looking at her. It's obsidian eyes were fixed on the sky, the crow let out a single, harsh cry a sound completely different from the Robin's sweet melody. Crushing wounded echoing across cemetery. Red could hear crows flying over the cemetery crying out.
As, the first true ray of morning light pierced the fog and hit the gravestone. Red looked up before she could move black ash, was falling out of the clouds.
The ash didn't scatter into wind. Instead, it drifted downward, settling directly into the center of the crimson roses at her feet.
The moment the dark dust touches the pedals, the roses withered, turned black glass before shattering into the grass. Left behind in the dirt where the roots had been was a single glow. In the back, of Red's mind thinking it makes all perfect sense when the heart breaks completely you might die just a little bit. The crow crying outages other crows the clouds weep with death of black ashes of loved ones.
Falling to the ground landing beneath her feet. Everything must go back into the ground to complete the cycle of life, death and rebirth
