memory’s so treacherous
Finn has begun to act accordingly without thinking about it, the Spyglass's hands collecting up a pen and some parchment even as his eyes scan over the notes he finds. In quick and careful strokes, he copies out in his own version of shorthand all that he can get down; about the Ascended, about the Fae, about the lands and this machine. And about demigods, of course.
When he is finished, he merely watches the pages for a few moments, chewing on the inside of his cheek and glancing up at Artemide. "What do you suppose I should look at next?" he asks. Even as he speaks his fingers are flicking pages towards his own entry in the book, and unless the owl reacts otherwise, that's where he will land.
When he is finished, he merely watches the pages for a few moments, chewing on the inside of his cheek and glancing up at Artemide. "What do you suppose I should look at next?" he asks. Even as he speaks his fingers are flicking pages towards his own entry in the book, and unless the owl reacts otherwise, that's where he will land.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
