FINN
the spyglass
it is only through mystery and madness
”If I cut myself down, and I fall and I break against the rocks like she did, will I die? Am I the one who is real? Will it end?” he wonders, watching his own face dance dizzyingly before his eyes, eyes that are the wrong colour. For a second the Spyglass reaches out, like he wants to thumb one of the eyeballs out and pop it into his mouth, but his fingers merely caress Remi’s cheek.
He laughs - a strange gurgling sort of sound; blood is running in rivulets down his bound ankle now. Finn things the bindings have almost worn through to the bone. Will the tendons snap and muscles tear soon? Who will save him, if he falls? ”Then why can’t you stop looking at me?” he asks, the words thick in his mouth.
His fingers tighten suddenly, spasming against Remi’s jaw, and he drags him forward so they really are nose to nose. ”Because if you don’t, you’ll only have yourself to blame for what happened.”
He laughs - a strange gurgling sort of sound; blood is running in rivulets down his bound ankle now. Finn things the bindings have almost worn through to the bone. Will the tendons snap and muscles tear soon? Who will save him, if he falls? ”Then why can’t you stop looking at me?” he asks, the words thick in his mouth.
His fingers tighten suddenly, spasming against Remi’s jaw, and he drags him forward so they really are nose to nose. ”Because if you don’t, you’ll only have yourself to blame for what happened.”
that the soul is revealed
