❰ consider this to be one bumbled interaction. for as foot-in-mouth as robin can be, she's acutely aware of how people perceive her...especially when she's just got done performing said fete. retrospectively, as much as she's used to it, being defined as just trumpet #3 band girl isn't a fantastic feeling on a certain level, so she gets it...she gets it.

before she can blurt out some form of apology, chrissy says something else that catches her off guard. that's certainly a sentence that takes some unpacking, and robin's brain runs on overdrive to diagram that sentence as accurately as possible. ❱

Okay, so — real quick, sorry about the whole socially objectifying you thing. Definitely a 'my bad,' there. But...so wait. ❰ there's so many things she could say that her mouth is full of a word traffic jam, trying to piece out what nouns and adjectives to put in what order. how to discuss a dead girl being dead with said dead girl is. tricky. ❱ So you know you're dead but you think I'm dead, too, because...this is some Italian resort town purgatory?

❰ robin closes her eyes tightly, shaking her head like that will rattle something into place. ❱ Sorry, I don't mean to be repetitive, it's just. I'm having a hard time with this scenario without thinking about us being in some kind of divine European prison, so that extra layer is really throwing the old noggin for a loop.