How Rude. He Stares Across At Her, But Doesn't Have It In Him To Be Snide. Much As Her Comment Stings.

of all the things sonic could have said, julius didn't expect to be invited. his eyes widened, lips parting briefly as though too stunned to process it. which he was. catches himself, and steels his expression, a frown etched into features. sonic's telling him no one would recognize him, there'll be so many there. five minutes.

"you know as well as i do that i would be 'recognized'. immediately." his height, his appearance, not to mention his eyes. "i've never eaten and would never eat a candied apple. i'm also not fond of inhaling food grease." he feels strange still kneeling, and hesitates a fraction before just sitting down in the grass. a sigh leaves him, and julius throws that rock, too hard, awkward angle. it sinks immediately.

sonic glanced over at julius then, not breaking his gaze, "and you should come to the festival." he sees the flit of, stunned shock and confusion that crosses julius' expression, although he tries to hide it. sonic keeps on, "there'll be hundreds of people in the streets you know, no one'd notice you. 5 minutes, you can pop in, get a candied apple or something, smell the gross greasy food air, pop out."

he blinks, noting the firmness of johnny's grasp, but also the quickened enthuse with which he shook julius' hand. at that, his gaze narrowed, a soft smile crossing his expression. especially at how casually johnny spoke with him. "actually, it's customary to only give your last name when speaking to others. part of G.U.N's protocols. wouldn't want you getting in trouble with the higher ups if they overhear you." or having another soldier ratting johnny out.

then, though, johnny calls him roberto and julius can't hide the skewed expression of light surprise and confusion at that- wait, roberto? not to mention, johnny was speaking far too informally, it'd get him in plenty of trouble. julius chews at the tip of his tongue as he considers how in the heck he's supposed to respond to all of that.

...the way that johnny's speaking, talking, going on, it's so bizarre it's oddly refreshing, in it's own right.

"i'm.... sorry about your hair. it's required and mandatory, a lot of things are around this place. but uhm, if it's any relief, i think the style you have now looks fine enough." he trails, thinking about the things johnny asked about how julius kept any sanity here.

"....well," he, didn't know how to answer that, "i just do as i'm told. and i try to keep my head down. i'd be perfectly fine as a rank-and-file soldier, boots on the ground," so then why was he so desperate in trying to gain more ranking here? his father. julius keeps any bitterness deep within, not letting that flint of possible fire any air to grow, "but... it would be nice to have a bit more, ah, leeway?"

"i'm sure you'll adjust in time, bravo." he clears his throat, and steps back, giving a small smile, "did you want to walk around the base? i can give you a mini tour of sorts. i know it took me a few weeks to really remember where every hallway led to, or where to rush to when an alarm went off."

Sheesh. Even just one year in this place sounded so overwhelming at the moment, it was hard to believe anyone would want to stick around for that long. But Johnny supposed that he'd already signed himself up for this, so there was no backing out now...

Johnny looked down at the other man's hand for a brief moment, then took it in his own to give him a shake—Robotnik would notice that he had a rather firm grip, and shook with a hasty enthusiasm.

"Well, I'm Johnny! Johnny Bravo!" Alas, he wasn't quite as familiar with the last-name basis around here yet, so he didn't give much thought to it. Then, he grew serious for a moment. "Alright, Roberto, so you've been here for a lil' while, right? So, lemme ask ya... How do ya do it? I've barely been here a day, n' I feel like I'm already losin' my marbles, man. They took my hair from me! My precious 'do! That's like... like a cat without claws! An angel without wings! How's a guy supposed to stay sane 'round here?"

"you're the one taking offense and acting all defensive over a simple topic."

("why are you so damned sensitive.")

he stilled, hand twitching and stopping in his hair. his arm slacked, falling away from his own skull.

"⸻you just marinate, it's no wonder you feel how you do."

an explosion rattled and echoed in his own mind; sight of bodies, pieces of limbs, once organs, bits of hair and skull, lay strewn before him. he remembered shaking ⸻ unable to process what his eyes were seeing, his squadron, dead⸻

blood rained down on his face, scientists strewn along once white now red stained marble flooring⸻ his mother's distant, muffled screams, blood coating his own hands, arms. such a small child to be covered in so much blood⸻

years, days, months as a child and a teenager of begging, pleading, ASKING what he had done wrong to his parents and never being told why⸻ being treated like he were this horrible monster, this terrible blight of existence despite NOT REMEMBERING⸻

AND IT WAS HIS OWN FAULT? MARINATING?

"julius," stone's voice, his stone, cupping his face, "look at me. it's going to be okay."

any anger julius might've been feeling dissipated. he couldn't. not to him. never. and yet part of him could, would. julius smiled, but the expression looked bitter, a mix between genuinely hurt and confused, a touch lost,

".....clearly, you've waste your time."

the glare does nothing to him, and if anything it just makes the former agent shrug in response as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I merely asked. you are the one taking offense and acting all defensive over a simple topic."

really could the man not realize that? surely he had to know how odd that reaction was.

"because, from what it seems, you don't do hardly anything aside from challenging sonic when you get the chance. you just marinate, for lack of a better word. it is no wonder you feel how you do." the more he spoke with the man the more he regretted showing up, as whatever hope he had of aligning himself with another supposed like-minded individual kept slipping further and further away with every passing minute.

though that was mainly on stone for assuming, of course.

Mads Mikkelsen for the fc thing ( specifically early Hannibal seasons. )

because of personal reasons, i can't really see this!! i relate mads mikkelsen & hannibal as a whole with someone else, so trying to apply him to julius just doesn't gel with me. early hannibal is a bit too calm for julius anyway, for as much as julius can try to hold himself together, he isn't actually that well put together.

⸻how easy it was, put the GUN to his head.

a lifetime of FUCKING things up.

➯indie rp blog for JULIUS IVO ROBOTNIK. ➯cursed by MARKER (34 | he/they). ➯est on tumblr in 2025, written privately for years. ➯novella, asks, headcanons & meta galore. ➯↻ if interested in interaction! please read carrd (🔗 above).

⸻ ft. imad stone x julius robotnik ⸻

( "i can't lose you." )

crafted by fritzi & wilhelm.

my beautiful manic princess

he was healing, of course, quicker than it'd scar. it'd need extended prolonged contact to do any actual lasting damage. julius is trying and failing to breathe properly, but stone's voice causes him to lift his head, hands still lifted up close to his face but no longer clasping or hiding. "talk to me, please."

how? HOW? he didn't know HOW to⸻ what to say⸻ how to explain⸻ if he should⸻ what if he fucked it all up⸻ what if⸻

"i'm here to listen to you and help." a hand on his shoulder. gaze flicks down to stone's hand. stares. julius focuses. exhales unevenly, focusing on his left hand, that feeling of warmth leaving his palm. his fingers twitch, but he moves to lay his palm overtop of stone's on top of his shoulder, eyes closing. inhales, exhales.

"....i can't lose you," the words are weighted: an ache and a sorrow and yet a guilt and regret and self-anger causing them to sound like even the very air from julius' lungs are burning, "i⸻ i can't, control.... s-sometimes, the energy," he falters, shamed, gaze now on the ground between himself and stone. unable to look at stone. not trusting himself to be able to handle whatever expression stone was making or whatever look stone was lobbing his way.

"it goes, haywire, a-and then my mind," fingers twitch slightly against stone's hand, pressing into his hand a tad more. as though needing to grip tightly to stone and never let go, "i start, having these⸻ thoughts."

stone doesn't flinch when julius suddenly grabs his wrist, though he does briefly knit his eyebrows together as he tries to figure out just why the man had done that. perhaps to ground himself? that was likely it, until...

he felt like his wrist was on fire, and just as quick as he had looked down julius had rescinded his grip and quickly backed away. what was more odd was the fact stone could have sworn he smelt burning flesh, the scent unmistakable to the former agent.

julius was... burning? mumbling to himself as well. stone doesn't move towards him however, simply choosing to remain where he was and just observe the other for a minute or so before finally speaking.

"hey... what's happening? talk to me, please. I'm here to listen to you and help," he says softly as he kneels down in front of him, reaching out a hand to rest on the man's shoulder in an act of comfort.

he can feel a headache threatening him, more out of annoyance than any actual sheer anger. julius inhales, running a hand through his hair as if that'll help. what an insistent little- "neither of those colours would suit me." he sees sonic frown, and quickly amends, "but. if i must choose.... ginger. i suppose." sonic smiles then, and julius huffs, "....you'll not stop until i relent, will you."

"yeah, i know you know what wigs are," sonic returns, smirking at the scowl that julius gives him, "i'm thinking blonde. or maybe a ginger." his hand lifts up, 'framing' julius' face through some of his fingers as though imagining it. "we can grab one'a those massive floppy rimmed hats, for the sun."