FINN
the spyglass
”It is,” Finn agrees, and no amount of awkwardness in the world can change that. The view is stunning even in the rain, and the Spyglass loses himself in it for a moment, using it as a prop to steel his nerves. It’s hardly a surprise to come across one of the Ascended given the very nature of his work, but he doesn’t recall any process beyond that point. So Finn does what Finn does best; he listens, he observes, he pieces together.
”From the Grounds?” he echoes faintly, like hearing the words from far away. ”What made you decide to leave?” The view would have been enough for Finn, personally, but he doubts many others would base a decision on one thing. ”Moving can be stressful,” he says of the other man’s week, humming a dark sort of agreement about the number of awful things happening.
”No, I’m just passing through Haulani. Visiting for a few days.” He fidgets and passes a hand back through his curls, forcing himself to look properly at the Ascended. ”My name is Finn.” It’s only polite, he tells himself.
”From the Grounds?” he echoes faintly, like hearing the words from far away. ”What made you decide to leave?” The view would have been enough for Finn, personally, but he doubts many others would base a decision on one thing. ”Moving can be stressful,” he says of the other man’s week, humming a dark sort of agreement about the number of awful things happening.
”No, I’m just passing through Haulani. Visiting for a few days.” He fidgets and passes a hand back through his curls, forcing himself to look properly at the Ascended. ”My name is Finn.” It’s only polite, he tells himself.
