stockholm syndrome
Finn Rosencrantz


Age: 36 | Height: 6’0 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 6 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#15
sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
"The stars are very beautiful," he agrees, a small smile tugging at his lips. "There are... no windows, other than a skylight. So I can't really comment on the views, I'm afraid." And he's not really a huge fan of the city, having lived there his whole life, so he lets Amalia's imagination run wild. "But there are places you can see it, in the tower. The Trinity Temple bell towers probably have beautiful views, too."

She explains about the flora and fauna encountered in the jungles and Finn jots all of this down too, even including a small sketch of the treeflit she conjures and a description. Finn is not artistic in that sense, and the sketch is purely technical in style, but it gets the job done. "Did you find any sign of Ascended influence in the jungle? Things like the blight, or the sickness from the Climb?" he asks, before sheepishly adding, "you owe me two questions, by the way."
FINN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#16
we cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are
Even the idea of a skylight to the stars is fascinating to Amalia, her dark eyes glittering with imagination as she tries to picture the night sky. It reminds her of the observation deck she once helped Remi build for Ronin, of brighter and easier days when things were simpler and she had time to look at stars. "Falling asleep every night underneath the stars... so close to Safrin. Sounds incredible." There are a number of nights when the Shield did the same, though without the safety of a roof or window.

She watches Finn draw the treeflit and write down remarks, commenting or embellishing here and there and making no effort to hide the face that she's peering at his work. Still leaning over his book a bit, Amalia shakes her head. "No sign of blight or anything Voice-related. Just life and green."

She looks up at last, realizing that she's leaning forward and quickly pulling back, her own bashful smile in place. "I guess you're right," she concedes, pulling her legs up to tuck them beneath her. "Uh... who else have you spoken to, about the storms and things? I think I'm going to hold my second one for now."
Amalia
Finn Rosencrantz


Age: 36 | Height: 6’0 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 6 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#17
sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
"It has its moments," Finn confesses softly, busy adding her embellishments or comments. Given that he started the document in front of her, he isn't secretive about the notes, though whilst Amalia doesn't notice how close she's getting, the Spyglass certainly does. She leans away at last and he rubs at the back of his neck, glancing over the page of work he's written before seeming satisfied, flicking the file shut. "We... have an Artificer," he says suddently. "She would be able to install a skylight for you, in your rooms. If you were interested."

Gathering the rest of the files and stacking them neatly again, Finn considers her question with a moment of quiet. "Melita from Torchline - she told me about the voyage in the Arclight. Alina, a Fae from the Greatwood, explained the dust storms to me. And Loren, a man in Halo, had experience with the lightning storms," he replies. "I have no further questions for you, though. Thank you for your help."
FINN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#18
we cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are
The list of names is familiar (though of course the Fae remains untitled, and she wonders with a shiver if it's Nephele), Amalia sucking in a breath at the mention of Loren going into the storms. "Right. With Wessex," she muses softly, brows furrowing. "I'm supposed to go to the lightning storms again. For Frey. Though now-" Now she has no idea if or when she'll be allowed to go anywhere on her own.

It ends as abruptly as it began, Finn announcing that he's out of questions, Amalia assuming a puzzled expression as she tries to ignore her disappointment that he's so eager to be done with her. "I'm still owed a question, though," the Shield points out, rubbing her thumb over her wrist. "Unless- if you're too busy I won't take up more of your time."
Amalia
Finn Rosencrantz


Age: 36 | Height: 6’0 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#19
sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
"You might ask Cian," Finn says of the task for Frey, still trying to organise his files and slipping his pencil back into his pocket. "He would likely arrange for a group to go with you. It would be in bad taste to deny a god. Or perhaps you could ask Frey yourself," he suggests. When everything is packed and done, he's about to stand when he spots the disappointment on her face. Oblivious to the social assumption that they were now making small-talk, Finn slowly settles back on the briefcase.

"You are right," he says with a gentle nod. "I was given only a week to write this report, so I do need to get it done before the end of today. But I have a little more time. A break would be good," he confesses, conjuring a tired smile. "What's your question?"
FINN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#20
we cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are
The prospect of asking Cian is one she has been mulling over; nodding, Amalia considers this option, wondering if she might be able to secure one of the compasses they all seem to possess. "I'm more concerned with the unicorns," Amalia confesses, rubbing her forehead as a wave of exhaustion suddenly sets against her bones. "I led them out of the storms earlier this year, and promised to take them home." So many promises, so little time.

He sits back down, and part of Amalia feels guilty while the other is quietly pleased. "Only if it won't get you in trouble," the Shield replies, her eyes already warming with delight. "Do you want to grab tea or something? If you have enough time?" Her room isn't far, and she's deeply relieved to be around someone familiar - someone who might be a friend.
Amalia
Finn Rosencrantz


Age: 36 | Height: 6’0 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 6 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#21
sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
Unicorns remind Finn of the Celestine. They remind him of being healed by one while Tobi beamed beside him; they remind him of his broken hand and why it ended up that way. All of a sudden the Spyglass looks deeply uncomfortable, and his stormy eyes flick to something that seems like it's just in the periphery of their vision. He nods, but it's more like a conversational reflex at this point, Finn nibbling at the inside of his cheek and glancing back at Amalia only when she asks her question.

Rather than a snippet of personal flavour, as he's expecting, it's an invitation, and the raising of his eyebrows betrays his surprise. "Uh," he begins eloquently, glancing down at his files, at the coat he's still bundled in, at the messy briefcase. "Yeah, okay." It slips out quite without his notice, Finn rising to his feet automatically to grab everything up. "Was... that your question?" he asks.
FINN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#22
we cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are
The discomfort that crosses over his face isn't missed this time, Amalia's enthusiasm dimming to confused unease as he glances away. She schools herself, though, saying nothing, letting him to his thoughts as much as she desperately wants to pry. Overthinking has ever been her downfall, and it is a habit she now tries valiantly to break. Which is not to say she succeeds very often, but an effort must be made.

She smiles as he accepts her invitation, though the brightness is somewhat more subdued than before. Rising, Amalia gathers her own things, the small black doll hanging between her fingers as she turns back to Finn. "Only as long as you're comfortable," she clarifies gently, tilting her head. "If you have work to get to feel free to leave- I won't be upset, I promise."

The path to her room is down the hall and up a flight of stairs. Amalia leads the the way somewhat uncertainly, the long corridors and various doors still somewhat unfamiliar. "Huh... I guess it was," she replies to Finn, realizing she has indeed spent her owed question on the invitation. Slender shoulders shrug beneath the backless top; she glances towards the Spyglass, expression wry. "Your turn, then."
Amalia
Finn Rosencrantz


Age: 36 | Height: 6’0 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 6 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#23
sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
Finn is rarely comfortable, and surely Amalia must be aware of that right now, so he merely offers a wry smile as she picks herself up off the bench and leads them down corridors that the Spyglass, in comparison, knows like the back of his hand. "I can spare half an hour," he says. "I only just got back, after all. I probably ought to give myself some time to take a breath before starting the report."

He heads up the steps, knowing that they're about to come to a dead ended corridor which must obviously be her rooms. Still, as she informs him that it's his 'turn', he can't help but raise his eyebrows in honest confusion. "I have already asked you all the questions about the storms," he says slowly, as if not understanding. "Or did you want me to ask about other things...?"
FINN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#24
we cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are
She cannot help it: she laughs a little at his confusion, bemused and kind and a little flushed. "I mean- you don't have to," she answers with a shrug, brows furrowed slightly above her smile. "I just thought.... since you're a researcher, you'd have questions. About whatever."

They do indeed hit a dead-end corridor, and Amalia breathes a sigh of relief to recognize a familiar door on the left-hand side. She hasn't locked it because there's nothing to take, and because locking her doors is an unfamiliar concept, and so it swings open with a turn of the knob, revealing... very little.

The room is sparse but comfortable, the lodgings provided both perfectly adequate and thoroughly impersonal. A few flowers sit in a vase on a shelf, and a coat she's managed to borrow from Sera hangs on a rack by the door. Books are piled on the table, along with papers and pens. The door to the bedroom hangs open, as well as the kitchen.

"Put your stuff wherever. I'll go get the kettle on."
Amalia
Finn Rosencrantz


Age: 36 | Height: 6’0 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#25
sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
Stormy eyes blink in sudden realisation; Finn's smile is awkward, a touch embarrassed, and he nods to her. "Of course," he says, though he doesn't press on with a sudden flurry of questions like he wants to on autopilot. "Perhaps in a few days we might have a more focused sort of meeting," he suggests, stepping into her room and placing files, and briefcase down, and finally shrugging out of his coat. Beneath it his clothes are wrinkled and travel-worn, the Spyglass looking more wiry and exhausted for losing its bulk.

"How are you finding Stormbreak so far?" he asks, this time to fill silence in the face of her hospitality. He fusses with the cuff of one of his sleeves, folding it to the forearm and repeating the process with the other side. Taking in the room and its impersonal nature, Finn seems to take in everything and nothing all at the same time. He doesn't even think to sit down anywhere.
FINN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#26
we cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are
Perhaps the only part of the apartments that look lived in, it is clear that Amalia has taken solace in the familiarity of a kitchen, even one that isn't hers. With the ease of someone who grew up among stoves and ovens Amalia sets about her work, quickly filling a kettle before rummaging into a bread box and extracting a sourdough loaf. Without much need for sleep these days, the girl has found that baking continues to be an excellent way to fill her time, the evidence of which fills this small and cozy space.

"It's... a lot." From behind the counter Amalia replies, looking up from slicing the bread. "Beautiful, but huge. And so different from the Grounds. I still haven't seen very much of it... I barely know where to start." A sheepish smile crosses her face, and she turns away to fetch some plates and butter for the bread. "I get a little overwhelmed in such big crowds. Especially since so many people seem to recognize me, while I don't know any of them."

The bread is on the plates, buttered, and Amalia pushes one across the counter towards Finn along with an empty cup. "It's... really nice to see a familiar face," she confesses, eyes downcast as relief flashes over her face. "To have a friend here. Well, other than Ronin."
Amalia
Finn Rosencrantz


Age: 36 | Height: 6’0 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#27
sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
He follows her into the kitchen, talking it all in with careful glances and quiet contemplation, his gaze eventually landing on Amalia where she stands slicing the bread. He doesn't think he's ever seen the Shield looking quite so at home, even in the Hollowed Grounds where she was born. Then a plate is being pushes his way, Finn drawing up to stand on the other side of the counter, quietly thanking her. He's peering into the empty up when she speaks again, stormy eyes flicking up towards her face.

"I am sure one of the Order would be happy to give you a tour of the place. They would be able to choose a time when it isn't so lively," he says softly. "Gideon, perhaps. He could show you the temple at the same time. I imagine he would be quite interested in speaking with you." That's the Spyglass's guess, anyway.

He tries and fails to stop the pink flush to his cheeks as she calls him a friend, and there's something quietly sad in the smile he shoots towards her. "I don't think it will take you long to make more friends here. I am not particularly good at it, to be honest. Friendship, I mean."
FINN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#28
we cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are
She looks down to her own empty cup, thinking about the offer Gideon made when they first met, about seeing the city with such a guide. "That would be nice," Amalia agrees, her lips quirking into a wry, crooked smile. "Though I'm not sure Gideon would be thrilled to see me- we parted on awkward terms, last time we met." Discussions of genocide, differences of opinion, and then a strange man who dressed oddly- it had been an interesting set of encounters, to say the least.

She catches the blush on the Spyglass's cheeks, her own expression fading in reply. Reaching up to run a finger through a stray lock of hair, Amalia shrugs in return, her own smile subdued and strained. "Neither am I," she replies softly, bitterness flickering over her face. "Even my marriage-"

The whistle of the kettle saves her from falling further down that path, Amalia swiftly gathering herself and retreating to fetch the boiling pot. She takes more time than she strictly needs, pouring the water into a pot of aromatic leaves, her eyes closed and her knuckles white as she clings to the metal and tries to collect herself. When she returns to the counter a minute later her expression is mild, her gaze closed off. Wordlessly she collects Finn's cup, filling it with dark, hot tea.
Amalia


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