Chapter Text
Robecca woke up in her father’s workshop at some point during the day or maybe it was night, she wasn’t really sure, her inner clock seemed to be eternally broken. She also didn’t really woke up, she didn’t need sleep in the sense other monsters needed it. Just resting her gears, slowing them down for a few hours was usually enough for her to feel like freshly greased clockwork. Well, not clockwork, because… yeah.
She got up from the bench she had used to rest and stretched her arms above her head. Her left shoulder made a quiet squeak. Robecca moved the arm up and down experimentally, trying to locate which of her cogs was acting up again. With a quiet sigh she walked over to the big wooden table across the room. An array of tools were scattered all over it including the occasional bolt and a few sheets of copper. It had always been like this, her father had never bothered putting anything away, because he’d probably need it soon anyway. Robecca took the smallest screwdriver with the worn red handle and stood in front of a large mirror which was not only dirty but also had lots of blind spots around its frame. Every time she had to repair herself on parts she couldn’t really see she stood in front of it, too lazy to take herself apart entirely. She screwed the copper-plate covering her shoulder loose until she could take it off and looked at the various little cogs underneath it. With practiced ease she located the one that had become a little loose over time and reached for one of the finer tools which in contrast to the bigger ones were neatly hung up on the wall. She took a tiny hex wrench and tightened the cog back in place. She lifted her arm up and, satisfied that it no longer squeaked, put the hex wrench back in its place and screwed the copper plate back on her shoulder.
Robecca turned back towards the mirror. Brightly polished copper cogs substituting as irises looked back at her. Her ink black hair as black as her father’s messily framed her face. She should better get it brushed before leaving for school. The prospect of finally meeting her friends – other monsters – cheered her up immensely. She grabbed a wire brush and tried to tame the unruly mess that was her hair. While fighting with a particularly stubborn knot her gaze fell upon her bracelet which was essentially an array of nearly thirty different clocks. It was already quarter past seven.
“Oh no, not again!” she exclaimed, threw the brush away and grabbed her bag. As fast as she could she tore the massive wooden door to the workshop open and ran down the dark, damp corridors of the catacombs. Her heels' clicking echoed from the naked stone walls and the occasional torch elongated her shadow in grotesque ways. It wasn’t the nicest place, but Robecca never paid attention to what lay between the school and her father’s workshop.
She rushed up a flight of stairs, the door at the top finally leading out of the catacombs and into the school. The corridors were completely empty, everyone already sitting in their classes. Robecca contemplated for a moment: get the books from her locker or be marginally earlier than last year? With a resigned sigh she trotted over to her locker. What was the point, she was already late anyway. Might as well get her books.
The last thing she expected when opening her locker was Spectra’s head.
“What are you doing in my locker?” Robecca exclaimed surprised.
“Oh!” was all Spectra said and vanished into the wall.
“No, come back! Were you going through my stuff again? I’ve told you to stop it!”
But it was useless, Spectra was already gone. Probably snooping through a different locker. Robecca tried to quell down the anger rising inside of her, feeling her body growing warmer with how fast her gears turned. This ghost was the nosiest monster she had ever met, but what Robecca really couldn’t deal with were the lengths Spectra was willing to go just to find out someone’s secrets. Still riled up she slammed the door to her locker shut and made her way over to her classroom. No longer in a hurry she walked slowly, waiting until she had calmed down completely. She steeled herself mentally for the scolding she might receive from Mr. Rotter and opened the door as quietly as possible.
“Ah, Ms. Steam. How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”
“I’m sorry,” Robecca mumbled and ducked her head.
Because she arrived this late the only available seat was in the front row, right in front of Mr. Rotter’s desk. She dropped her books on the desk and slumped down in her seat. Thankfully Rotter seemed to have already moved on to the next topic. It was probably a good thing that her dad had been his favourite teacher back when Rotter had been a student himself.
While Rotter explained this semester’s curriculum Robecca let her gaze wander to see with whom she shared her classes with this year. From one of the last rows she saw Frankie and Lagoona giving her a cheerful wave. She smiled back, happy to see some of her friends. Heath Burns was sleeping in the corner while Sirena scribbled on her desk absentmindedly. Meowlody or Purrsephone (Robecca was never able to tell them apart) was sharpening her claws. The only one seeming to listen to Mr. Rotter was Neighthan sitting right next to her. With a quiet sigh Robecca grabbed a pen from her bag and opened her notebook. It wasn’t like she didn’t like undead languages, but she felt off today somehow. Maybe the cog in her shoulder wasn’t the only one loose… she should probably give herself a complete check-up when she got back home. For now she just jotted down a few words Mr. Rotter said completely out of context so later she would have no idea what they even meant. Finally the bell released them and Robecca threw her stuff back into her bag and got up. Exiting the classroom she heard a voice behind her call out her name.
“Hey, Robecca!”
She turned around and saw Frankie hurry towards her.
“Hello Frankie. How are you doing? How was your summer?”
“Oh, it was great! I went to see Europe for the first time in my life with my parents!” A delighted grin spread across Frankie’s face and a small spark escaped their neck-bolts. “Scaris was gorgeous! I really wish I had more time there, but maybe next summer!”
Robecca smiled at the easily excited ghoul in front of her. It reminded her very much of the first time she had opened her eyes. In that regard she felt like Frankie was the only one she could share her experiences with. Like her Frankie had been created, assembled out of hundreds of pieces and brought to life. They met every day with excitement at what it might hold. It was endearing.
“That sounds great. Thanks for all your postcards by the way. I was happy to see you thought of me.”
“Of course! You’re my friend, right? So, how were your holidays? Anything exciting happened?”
“Oh, you know…”
Robecca pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. Thinking about how she had spent her holidays wasn’t exactly pleasant. To be honest she had been very lonely, sitting in her father’s workshop and counting the days until she would meet her friends again. She had even thought of shutting herself off for a few days, just so time would pass faster. But she didn’t want to tell Frankie about this. She just couldn’t ruin their mood on a Monday morning like this.
“Oh, it was pleasant. I spent a lot of time welding on one of my statues.”
“Oooh, how cool! I’ve never done welding! Maybe we’ll do it in art class this year? Oh, and you have to show me your statues someday, okay?”
“Of course,” Robecca nodded, a guilty feeling running through her copper body for having lied to Frankie.
“Okay, I… Oh wait, I forgot I promised Draculaura to meet her at her locker! We’ll talk at lunch break, okay?”
“Sure,” Robecca nodded and waved after Frankie hurrying away. She turned to walk over to her own locker to switch out her books. This time no head was inside, neither a ghostly nor a real one. Because yes, both had already happened. Quickly she stuffed everything she needed into her bag and headed towards her next class, as to not to be late again. Also Robecca didn’t feel like sitting in the first row in every class.
Entering the mad science classroom she saw that it was still almost empty. Quickly Robecca hurried to the last row and secured a seat. Sitting in the last row meant Mr. Hackington wasn’t going to call her to the front to help him perform experiments.
“Hey Becs!”
A bag got thrown on the desk next to her and Venus plopped down on the chair, one leg hanging over the armrest.
“How are ya? I didn’t hear a single word from you during vacation. Thought you were shut off for a while.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel worried. I was just busy with… well, repairing a few things in my father’s workshop.”
Her friend pulled up one brow and looked at her sceptically.
“You sure that’s all?”
Robecca averted her gaze. Lying to her friends made her feel bad, but she simply didn’t feel ready to tell them the truth. Her inability to reach out to them and simply ask them if they wanted to spend some time with her and as a result feel incredibly lonely made her feel a little ashamed.
“Yes,” she said after a while. “When I start working on my dad’s machines I tend to forget the time… more than usual.”
“Uh-huh,” Venus made and Robecca knew she wasn’t buying it. “But now that school’s started and you’re no longer busy… how about we go to the mall afterwards? I missed the Coffin Bean.”
“But you don’t even drink coffee?” Robecca asked with a grin.
Venus rolled her eyes and tipped her chair backwards.
“I missed hanging out with you ghouls, okay?”
Robecca’s grin grew softer.
“Don’t worry, I missed you too. How about we ask Rochelle to come along as well?”
“Yeah, sounds great!”
Robecca started to unpack her bag and put her books on the table until she realized something.
“Uhm, Venus? Do you know where Rochelle is? I haven’t seen her guarding the entrance as usual.”
“Eh, probably had a meeting. Last time I saw her today she was yelling at some freshmen.”
Venus got up, the chair falling back on its legs with a loud bang, and walked over to the window, pulling it wide open and letting the late summer air inside. With a content sigh she sat back down.
“Much better. Why can’t we have mad science outside?”
Robecca looked over to were Venus sat with her eyes closed, visibly flourishing. Sometimes she envied her. She knew she had it much harder than most monsters with how dark and stuffy the castle could become and how ignorant monsters could be towards nature. But other than Robecca she was able to feel. Not that Robecca had no emotions. No, she had plenty of these. Her father had done a great job at creating life able to feel emotions. But she couldn’t feel. No matter what she touched it all felt the same. One time she had asked Clawdeen to describe the texture of her new jacket as everyone seemed to be so enamoured with how soft and fluffy it felt. She didn’t know how soft or fluffy felt. She could feel different temperatures and pressure on her skin (which helped her with not crushing everything she touched), but texture of clothes? The feeling of wind upon one’s skin? The hard, ragged surface of stone? It all felt the same. Rochelle once told her not to be too affected by this. But how could Robecca not? She just wanted to fit in and enjoy the feeling of a new dress as much as everyone else. But she couldn’t.
On the plus side she couldn’t feel pain. Physical pain at least. When Deuce had kicked her arm off during football last semester she hadn’t felt anything and just screwed it back on.
“Ah shoot,” Venus mumbled and took her legs off the table.
Mr. Hackington had entered the classroom, looking as odd as always. Robecca never saw the reason behind the burlap sack covering only half his face.
The rest of the day passed in a flurry, at least to Robecca’s confused sense of time. Soon she found herself perched between Venus and Rochelle, having a sip of ginger tea she couldn’t taste, but it was hot and it felt good.
“So Rocky, how was your day?” Venus asked, basking in the sunlight falling through the Coffin Bean’s tall windows.
Rochelle scrunched her eyebrows together.
“My name is Rochelle, Venus. You should know this by now. We’ve known each other for two years now,” she said, French accent as strong as ever.
“It is a nickname, Rochelle,” Venus sighed. “Do gargoyles not give each other nicknames?”
“No, we have one name, why create another?”
“Anyway, Rochelle, how was your day? I didn’t see you today,” Robecca interrupted, seeing that Venus was ready to start an argument whether or not nicknames were something useful.
“Oh, I had a meeting with the Student Safety Team this morning. I had a few new applications to go through. But Robecca, where were you over the summer? I haven’t seen you once. I was rather worried.”
Robecca ducked her head and Venus giggled.
“Robecca was really busy during the holidays.” Venus leaned in closer to Rochelle. “She was… welding.”
“How nice,” Rochelle said. “One of my cousins is teaching me how to sculpt. I was always fascinated by monsters who are able to create art from seemingly nothing.”
Venus groaned and tipped her head back.
“You just can’t take a hint, can you?”
“But… you haven’t given me anything?” Rochelle asked, confused.
“Be honest now, Becs,” Venus said, zeroing her teal eyes in on Robecca. “What did you really do over the holidays?”
“I… I told you I was busy working on my father’s machines…”
“Yeah, as if. Don’t make me use my pollen.”
Robecca narrowed her eyes, feeling steam building up inside her.
“Don’t you dare use your powers on me just because you don’t want to believe me.”
Venus raised her hands.
“Alright, alright, I get it. Don’t tell us then.”
She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes again, soaking in the sun light. Robecca stared down at her cup of tea which had grown cold. Rochelle looked back and forth between the two, not really understanding why they were arguing in the first place. After a long silence Venus spoke up again.
“But if you ask me… you have a boyfriend and are not telling us.”
“Boyfriend?!” Robecca sputtered.
“Why would you be ashamed of this, Robecca?” Rochelle asked, a slightly reprimanding look on her face.
“I don’t… I don’t have a boyfriend!”
“Oh… girlfriend? Is that why you didn’t tell us? You know we don’t judge you.”
“No, that’s… I don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend or anything in between! I was simply busy, okay?” Robecca exclaimed, her temperature rising. “I thought we wanted to have a nice coffee date and not start arguing the whole time? Can’t you just drop the topic already?”
“Fine, fine. Sorry. You’re right.”
Boyfriend. It felt like Venus was rubbing salt in the metaphorical wound. Robecca had spent her holidays alone and lonely. How she wished to have someone always by her side. Someone who wouldn’t leave her as soon as the sun sank. But she hadn’t met a single undead soul inside the school who fit the bill. How was it possible that even now, sitting together with two of her closest friends, she felt lonely?
“So… has anyone figured out the clawculus homework yet?” Venus changed the topic.
And while Venus and Rochelle poured over their notes, complaining how their teachers could give them homework on their first day of school, Robecca’s thoughts drifted off into a future where she would no longer be alone.
After the sun had set Venus became noticeably less energetic to do anything at all, so soon after nightfall the three ghouls said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.
Robecca pushed the giant double-winged front door of the school open. As soon as it slammed shut behind her the corridor was pitch black, not even the moonlight outside reaching in. As bad as her inner clock was her sense for direction was meticulous. Slowly she made her way over to the door leading down into the catacombs. Funnily enough they were brighter lit than the school itself.
Robecca went down the stairs absentmindedly, but reaching the foot of the stairs she stopped suddenly. Something had caught her attention. A sound she had never heard down here before.
Music.
Instead of heading down the corridor to her right she followed the one opposite of the staircase. She had no idea where it lead, had never been interested in finding out. Today was different.
An organ, that was the sound she heard. Someone played the organ rather well. But who would play the organ down here? At night no less.
Suddenly the path stopped and Robecca stood in front of a pool of water. No boat was in sight. She pondered for a moment. Did it really matter who was down there? If she fell into the water and her inner mechanics gave out there was no one to help her. No one knew she was down here. Venus would probably look for her the next day. But would she find her?
But then she heard something else. It was a voice. Someone sang.
And yet it wasn’t simply singing. No, this word felt too simple. The voice was absolutely beautiful, rich and powerful, seeming to embrace every single note, transforming it into something so hauntingly alluring Robecca felt like she was being physically pulled towards the water. She took a step forward and took off, flying just above the surface towards whoever was down there.
The further she went down the canal the beacons became more and more, illuminating the rough stone walls. The voice became louder and once the canal finally ended Robecca landed safely on concrete, hurrying along the foreign corridor to finally find the source of the beautiful music.
She turned around a corner and stopped dead in her tracks. Before her lied what she could only describe to be a theatre. The seats were missing, instead there was just polished wooden floor, but at the head of the room was a pompous stage, golden ornaments framing the stage, heavy velvet-red curtains pulled aside to reveal a giant organ at the back of the stage. From this far away Robecca couldn’t really make out who was playing it though, so she finally stepped closer, slowly so as to not disturb the person.
Robecca didn’t quite register how long it took her to cross the room, stopping right in front of the orchestra pit. The music seemed to reel her in, she wanted to get closer, but she couldn’t see a door leading backstage. Maybe she could fly across the orchestra pit, but surely this would disturb the musician…
Speaking of the musician, now she was finally close enough to see who was playing the organ. Sadly whoever it was had their back turned towards her, so the only thing Robecca could see was hot-red hair falling down the musician’s back and their slender fingers moving quickly across the keys. But their voice was so beautiful, Robecca wasn’t satisfied. She just wanted to catch a glimpse of their face and then she would leave, only a quick look…
Totally enamoured by the voice Robecca took a step forward and lost her footing. With a surprised yelp she fell down into the orchestra pit and her body hit the floor with a metallic clash. Luckily she was unable to feel pain and it seemed all of her limbs were still attached, but the ruckus alarmed the musician. The organ and the voice stopped and it was as if Robecca awoke from some sort of trance. What the hell was she even doing here?
“Who’s there?” she heard the voice echoing through the theatre. Heels clicked on the wooden stage, the steps approaching Robecca quickly.
“It’s… it’s just me. Sorry,” she called from down her prison.
Looking up she saw a face looking over the edge of the stage at her. Robecca was surprised that the person which had sung with such a strong, gorgeous voice moments ago was actually a girl around her age. Presumably. Age was a fickle thing in the monster’s realm. Looking at Robecca no one would think she was over a hundred human years old.
The girl’s face was framed by her wavy red hair streaked with black. Half her face was covered by a heart-shaped mask, but Robecca could see her piercing grey-blue eyes, framed by thick lashes. Her lips were as red as her hair and oh, she was actually just as gorgeous as her voice.
“Who are you and what are ya doin’ down there?”
Robecca was momentarily too distracted by the faint southern accent the girl had while speaking, her sudden appearance and the revelation that she had apparently developed a crush in about five seconds.
“Uh…”
“Get outta there.”
The girl kneeled down and extended her arm. Quickly Robecca got on her feet and took the offered arm, letting herself get pulled out of the orchestra pit. Sitting on the dimly lit stage next to the girl Robecca had finally a better look at her. Her eyes almost had a purplish hue to them, there was a small beauty mark under her bottom lip and some faint scars were visible underneath her mask.
Robecca caught the girl’s eyes staring back at her and if she could have blushed she would have. The girl stood up and took a step back and Robecca quickly followed her suit.
“So? I think I asked ya somethin’. Who are you?”
“I’m Robecca. Sorry that I disturbed you playing.”
“And what are ya doin’ here?”
“Well, on my way home I heard someone playing the organ, so I followed the sound and…”
“Just so ya know,” the girl suddenly interrupted her. “This is my theatre. And I don’t like visitors. So ya better stay away, got it?”
“I…”
Robecca’s bubbling admiration for the girl suddenly vanished, replaced by confusion and feeling slightly offended.
“As I said, I’m sorry, okay? I was just walking home and…”
“Whatcha mean by walkin’ home?” the girl interrupted her again and Robecca slowly felt anger rising inside of her.
“By that I mean I was on my way home. I live here.”
“Here?” the girl exclaimed, furrowing her brows. “This is my place.”
“Well, not here,” Robecca said, her voice gaining volume as well. “My father’s workshop is over there in the west. But I could hear the organ all the way to the entryway so I followed it.”
“Then ya better stay over there,” the girl said, putting a hand on her hip. “I don’t like visitors.”
Robbeca felt her patience fading.
“Maybe you shouldn’t play the organ so loud, if you don’t want visitors,” she said. She usually wasn’t one for confrontations, but this girl somehow managed to push all her buttons at once.
“Maybe ya shouldn’t come down here,” the girl hissed.
Robecca took a step closer.
“I didn’t see a sign with your name on it when I went down here.”
“Just ya wait and my name will be everywhere,” the girl whispered and took a step forward as well.
“Hah, why? To warn others not to interact with you?”
The girl let out a joyless laugh, a cocky smile on her blood-red lips.
“Darlin’, you don’t know who you are talkin’ to.”
“No, I actually don’t. You never told me your name.”
There was a charged silence between the two, staring into each other’s eyes, no one wanting to show any kind of weakness or backing down. After what felt like an eternity the girl finally turned around, breaking the eye contact and Robecca was secretly thankful for that.
“My name’s Operetta. Ya better remember it.”
“Oh, I will,” Robecca sneered and decided it was time to go. She didn’t want to stay around this girl – Operetta – any longer. She turned on her boots to fly over the orchestra pit. She threw a last look over her shoulder to find Operetta looking at her in slight wonder. Robecca couldn’t help but smirk, hovering in the air above her for a few seconds.
“If only to avoid you,” she said, saluted the red-head and flew out of the theatre until the canal finally came back in sight.
The way back wasn’t as pleasant, she didn’t have the music to distract her from the fact that there was water underneath her feet. Had it really taken her so long to get here? Had she taken a wrong turn? Robecca started to worry until she saw the torch illuminating the small dock where she had taken off. She hopped back on the stony ground, happy to have finally escaped the water. She started to run, just wanting to finally get back home.
Finally the big wooden door of her father’s workshop came into view and Robecca rushed inside, slammed the door shut and sank against it, closing her eyes momentarily to calm down.
“Hey dad, I’m back,” she mumbled out of habit while passing his work bench and walked over to her bed, dropped her bag next to it and sat down. Exhaustion took hold of her, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe, Robecca thought, I just need an oil change.
She slipped off the bed and walked over to a metal locker, a wave of sadness suddenly washing over her. How she missed her father. He was always there when those foreign feelings would possess her and Robecca wouldn’t understand where they were coming from and what they were. She was just like a child in this regard, her father teaching her how to deal with them. But he sadly couldn’t stick around long enough until Robecca was old enough to experience the complicated feelings that came with being a teenager.
Robecca filled some oil into a mason jar and sipped on it like someone might have sipped on a coffee. She sat down on the worn leather couch her father used to rest on after work. There were still a bunch of his books stacked in a crudely pieced together wooden bookshelf. Robecca had read them all. Twice. During the holidays.
“If only you could help me,” she spoke into the empty room. “I don’t even know how to describe this feeling… It’s as if I’m angry? Because this girl was being so rude towards me… But usually I’m able to shake these feelings off pretty easily. You know I don’t let other people bother me for too long. But this was so unnecessary! I just wanted to… She had such a pretty voice! You should have heard her. I know you were never too interested in music, but you would have loved her voice too! It was so… so…”
With a sigh Robecca sank deeper into the couch and drank her oil in silence. After a while she got up, put the empty mason jar into the sink and walked over to her bed, deciding it was time to do her homework. A glance towards her many watches told her she had five hours left until school started. Robecca stared at her clawculus book. Slacking on the very first day wasn’t usually her style, but right now her gears practically begged her to take a rest. With a shrug she turned off all the lights in her room and lay down. The quiet ticking of various mechanical objects in the room lulled her in and she closed her eyes.
“You know,” she whispered into the darkness. “I’m really proud of you for creating life which is able to feel emotions. But right now I really wish it wasn’t me experiencing it.”