memory’s so treacherous
”I am not certain that a day goes by when you are not doing your job,” Finn murmurs. ”Even days when you are supposed to be at home.” Like today, probably. But if there’s a glass house larger than Finn’s, he hasn’t found it, and he really ought not to be throwing rocks.
It isn’t her place to ask, no, and nor his place to tell - and yet, here they are. ”Two,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. ”Perhaps three, in time. All from the same place, beyond Caido.” He taps his nose, as if to warn her against any further questions, mainly because he’ll probably tell her.
He examines the room with a cursory interest, trying to notice the things that have changed since he was last here, the things that are the same. There’s not a time when the doctor isn’t banging about and making some noise or another, and so he tries not to pay it any mind. When she returns he lifts his head, looking straight through her in a habit that goes back to his days in the silk houses, allowing her to look him over, to examine all that might be wrong or right.
”The exhaustion is beyond normal,” he says quietly. ”I’ve been having more trouble sleeping than usual. The normal methods don’t work - I discussed it with Falke when he came to check in on me. Vivid dreams, trouble shutting off. Hallucinations, sometimes. Other than that, though? I don’t think so.”
It isn’t her place to ask, no, and nor his place to tell - and yet, here they are. ”Two,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. ”Perhaps three, in time. All from the same place, beyond Caido.” He taps his nose, as if to warn her against any further questions, mainly because he’ll probably tell her.
He examines the room with a cursory interest, trying to notice the things that have changed since he was last here, the things that are the same. There’s not a time when the doctor isn’t banging about and making some noise or another, and so he tries not to pay it any mind. When she returns he lifts his head, looking straight through her in a habit that goes back to his days in the silk houses, allowing her to look him over, to examine all that might be wrong or right.
”The exhaustion is beyond normal,” he says quietly. ”I’ve been having more trouble sleeping than usual. The normal methods don’t work - I discussed it with Falke when he came to check in on me. Vivid dreams, trouble shutting off. Hallucinations, sometimes. Other than that, though? I don’t think so.”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
