FINN
the spyglass
it is only through mystery and madness
"I wouldn't know," Finn remarks quietly about the basilisk, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes to hear that he wouldn't be able to hit Remi should he decide to move. He knows the massive advantage that the Lullaby has over him in every single way. Stronger, faster, tougher, with abilities that terrify and overwhelm, Finn can't even be safe from Remi inside his own head. One wrong step and he might end up trapped in a dream with the other man, or shoved out of his body to float, soulless, until Remi is done with him.
And yet the alchemist is always the one to look so constipated when he inevitably puts himself in Finn's path, over and over again. "That sounds like your sort of place," he mutters, his tone reminicent of steep cliffs, of knives and feathers and being deep underwater. And this time as Remi takes off with a beat of his wings, Finn is already tracking him with the gun.
He doesn't care if the sun burns out his retinas, he still doesn't look away as he conjures another shot, aiming to take out one of the great wings spread wide.
And yet the alchemist is always the one to look so constipated when he inevitably puts himself in Finn's path, over and over again. "That sounds like your sort of place," he mutters, his tone reminicent of steep cliffs, of knives and feathers and being deep underwater. And this time as Remi takes off with a beat of his wings, Finn is already tracking him with the gun.
He doesn't care if the sun burns out his retinas, he still doesn't look away as he conjures another shot, aiming to take out one of the great wings spread wide.
that the soul is revealed
