FINN
the spyglass
it is only through mystery and madness
”I have heard enough human children scream not to care about rabbits,” Finn replies, waving a hand that’s long gone numb as if to tell Remi not to bother, then, if he’s just going to waffle about it. And oh, he can hear them, their realities melding together until their screaming bubbles out of the waves, replacing the rich crash with the cries of suffering animals. The windows of the Tower all look like eyes, and Finn closes his own against them.
”I don’t know. I don’t much care,” he mumbles, spitting blood down the side of the cliff. He’s tired of being topsy turvy, though - so he simply isn’t any more. He’s still hanging, he’s still every inch of upside down - Finn has just flipped the world so he can stare down at Remi instead of up, dangling over him like some broken, bound angel. ”Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks. ”I feel like your life must be very boring, to watch mine all night long.” And it is night, suddenly, because Finn decides it.
”I don’t know. I don’t much care,” he mumbles, spitting blood down the side of the cliff. He’s tired of being topsy turvy, though - so he simply isn’t any more. He’s still hanging, he’s still every inch of upside down - Finn has just flipped the world so he can stare down at Remi instead of up, dangling over him like some broken, bound angel. ”Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks. ”I feel like your life must be very boring, to watch mine all night long.” And it is night, suddenly, because Finn decides it.
that the soul is revealed
