a dealer in hope

fionn matthew clarke 24 captain impossible "we know what we are, but know not what we may be" -william shakespeare

[fionnclarke-blog]

safe and sound for you | fionn + kristján

[haefoxfire-blog]

He held him in the same way he might hold a dying flower or a thin silver chain, touch delicate, gentle in a way that came with practice; keeping quiet all the while, a hand hesitantly reach up to stroke the other man’s hair. Soothing him until he pulled away, breath steadying gradually. Kristján smiled at his handiwork, quietly pleased he’d been able to help, a humbled blush rising to the height of his cheeks when the other man thanked him. 

“Of course,” he murmured, feeling speaking any louder would shatter the peace they’d found. Careful to conserve it, Kristján absentmindedly ran his hands up and down the other man’s shoulders, touch light as he swayed towards him. “Let’s get you to your room, yeah?”

[fionnclarke-blog]

The hand in his hair reminded him a lot of Aran, though the other man’s hand was broader and held more strength.  The gentleness was the same, however, a soothing feeling that helped him steady his breath even further.  He returned the other super’s small smile, finally breathing free and easy.  The fact that the other’s touch was so warm was ringing a bell somewhere in the back of Fionn’s mind as to what his ability was, but he couldn’t quite remember.  It wasn’t important.  

He breathed as the other man spoke, closing his eyes as the other man rubbed his shoulders.  “That would be nice,” Fionn said quietly, still smiling.  He wasn’t about to turn down the company, not when he was still feeling so fragile and delicate.

[felixchens-blog]

ruin our friendship || fionn + felix

[felixchens-blog]

Keep reading

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn blinked and fell still when Felix told him to wait, fingers twitching once- twice against the other man’s waist as if he’d decided he was going to pull them away but his body had decided to disobey him.  Was Felix going to be upset with him?  Was he going to ask him to stop?  He couldn’t deny the cold pit forming in the center of his chest, the beginning of the sickening swooping feeling that always appeared when he’d upset his-

He smiled and relaxed when Felix only removed his hoodie, glad that at the very least his friend wasn’t going to be upset with him.  He let his hands return to Felix’s waist, fingertips once again skimming the soft skin just above the waistband of the other male’s trousers, and let Felix make the next move.

Soft fingers wrapped themselves around Fionn’s wrists at the same time as Felix let their lips graze, and he moved with him to rest his hands against the bed beside his shoulders.  

“Yeah?” he breathed, tilting his head and trying to meet Felix’s eyes.  Felix, on the other hand, seemed more focused on his mouth as he asked his question.  What do you want to happen, here?  What did he want to happen?  The warmth and giddiness brought on by the alcohol and closeness made him want more, but did his friend want the same?  His internal debate was cut short by the other stating that he would go as far as Fionn wanted him to, and all he could do in response was lean in for another chaste kiss.  “Please,” Fionn breathed against Felix’s lips, though he kept his hands against the bed.

He trusted Felix.

[emerie-ducain-blog]

She’d comment on how cliche they were being. Monologuing was one of the most ridiculous things you could ever do in a fight–or sparing session. And here she was partaking in a conversation with someone she was about to fight. She smiled briefly at his words–before the hair on her arms stood on end. He was fast, she’d give him that. But she was faster, if only based on pure reflex. Emerie was moving a split second after Fionn had lunged forward, sidestepping and slipping past the hand that had been meant to grab her. She wanted to attack–to send him to the ground–but the closer she got to him the higher a chance of him landing a blow. Instead she sent a foot out, meaning to trip him as his moment carried forward.

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn almost laughed when she sidestepped him, finally remembering what her power was - supernatural reflexes and agility.  No wonder she said he wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on her.  Break the fall, his trainer’s voice sounded in his head when she tripped him.  Tuck and roll.  Land on your feet.  So he did just that, letting his hands hit the mat as he tucked his chin to his chest and let his momentum roll him through something that resembled a somersault.  He twisted around and pushed himself to his feet again, barely waiting a full second before he’d launched himself at Emerie once more.  This time, there was a little more power behind it - he moved a little faster than before, aimed at her midsection.

[fionnclarke-blog]

safe and sound for you | fionn + kristján

[haefoxfire-blog]

His breath is steady, quiet as he waits. And though he’s not entirely sure what he’s waiting for, he is patient, nevertheless, as he is careful to be still as he watches the other man move. Slowly. Steady. Like a statue of a god hesitating as he steps from his podium - if Kristján blinks, he might miss it. Miss something important. But a god would have the grace of antiquity, a nose with the gentle curve of an archer’s bow. 

And surely the fine marble would not have been carved with such big ears. 

Kristján catches himself before a laugh bubbles up from his gut to trickle from his lips, catches the hand of the man as it presses against his chest, though the corners of his crystalline eyes crinkle with mirth for a moment. Catches the hand, but does not stop it, does not throw it away. Instead he holds it, presses it to his chest tighter, breathing quietly, heart beating steadily as he waits. And he is so hesitant to speak, to break such fragile silence, so when he parts his lips, he is sure to raise his voice barely above a whisper as he murmurs, “Are we feeling better?”

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn was grateful for the other man helping him keep his hand steady on his chest, downcast eyes not catching the quick mirth that flickered through the other’s eyes.  The warmth was once again chasing away the pain in his skin, helping him spend more time and energy focusing on getting the rest of his senses under control.

He can hear the man’s heart beating, steady as a war drum underneath his hand, and focused on the sound.  Focused on the rise and fall of his chest, the in and out whooshing of breath in his lungs.  Slowly, slowly, he started to feel his own breathing calming down, the urge to break down sobbing again dying away.

When it wasn’t painful to keep his eyes open for more than a second, when he finally had everything under control again, Fionn lifted his gaze to the other male’s and nodded, wiping his eyes with the heel of his free hand.  “Thank you,” he mumbled, automatically swaying closer again.  Episodes like this always left him tired and weak, and, though he didn’t know the other male, he wanted more of that soothing warmth.

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, waiting for both the trainers and his partner to arrive.  The trainers had thought that, both since he’d been here for just over a year at this point and that he could also fly, that he’d be able to offer the other flying super in the Tower some pointers on how to stay coordinated.  Sure, they flew using different methods, but Fionn at least owed it to the kid to help him fly in a straight line.  Or hover without wobbling.  He wasn’t sure exactly how much help the other super needed.

The door opened, and he turned on his heel to face the newcomer, grinning already.  “Ready?” he asked.

[moonandtldes-blog]

sink or swim || fionn & sean

Sean aimlessly roamed the halls, a feeling that resembled boredom a bit too much sitting inside his chest. For some reason, he had expected his stay in the EPTP to be slightly more thrilling. Perhaps he had grown too used to the effects of adrenaline during the last few years – God knows he had gotten into enough shenanigans to last him a while. 

But then again, he sure didn’t do much to help his own case, considering his power training sessions were about as effective as they would be in his sleep – and Sean slept like a rock. All of it was his own fault, of course, for he was the one who did not try, but he had no intention of starting any time soon. Excitement could be found elsewhere. 

Sean thought it was Felix’s room door he had knocked on, but truthfully, he hadn’t exactly checked. Either way, when met with an absence of response, he decided to take the matter into his own hands and open the door nonetheless. “Dude, are you there?” he spoke as he stepped into the room, only to stop in his tracks as he realized his own blunder. 

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn sighed, flopping into his bed face down.  Everything ached, every single muscle, but it wasn’t a bad ache.  Rather, it was more the sign of a power training session gone well.  The trainers and he had gotten up to the point where he was now able to bench almost a tonne, and now they were working on maintaining that hold for longer and longer periods of time.

The only downside was that he had to spend the rest of the day recovering after these sessions, since they left him extremely weak and shaky.  Which is why he was sprawled across his bed, eyes closed and face buried in his pillow - it was time for what he’d decided was a well-deserved nap.

Absorbed as he was in getting comfortable, Fionn didn’t hear either the knock on the door or the quiet click of the door opening.  He did, however, hear the voice that sounded, and he blinked, rolling onto his side to see who had decided to come into his room.  “You need something?” he asked, furrowing his brows a little bit.

[felixchens-blog]

ruin our friendship || fionn + felix

[felixchens-blog]

Keep reading

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn bit his lip when Felix pulled away and sank down off his toes, straightening up a little himself at the same time.  Had he said something wrong?  Was Felix going to ask him to stop?  The smile, slight as it was, comforted him, and he released both his lip and his friend’s hoodie, dropping his hands back to his sides.  

He followed Felix to the bed, waiting until the other super had scooted up against the wall before clambering in himself.  He situated himself up against the headboard, letting his friend press him back into the cushions with a shy smile of his own.  The knee between his legs startled him a little, but by the time that realization had finally gotten through the alcohol haze, Felix was already kissing him again, nipping at his lower lip.  

“’S good,” Fionn murmured, tilting his head just slightly to capture the other’s lips once again.  When they broke apart for air again, he nodded, hazy eyes focused more on Felix’s lips than on his eyes.  “Really good.”

The slight scrape of Felix’s nails against his sides had him arching his back, pressing himself closer to the other male automatically, a low almost-moan breaking through his lips.  He tilted his head back, biting his lip again to hold back another noise as Felix trailed kisses down his neck, before slowly slipping just the tips of his fingers under Felix’s shirt, mirroring the same movements being traced along his own ribs.  “This okay?” he breathed, suddenly worried.

[dan-fitzpatrick]

Respite || Dan & Fionn

[dan-fitzpatrick]

Dan watched his companion as he went to bowl, scrunching his nose and shaking his head. “Bro, you’d have to be even worse than me to throw it into someone else’s lane. And you wouldn’t do that anyway, because you’d be ruining someone else’s game, and that probably goes against some hero code or something, and I’ve, like, never seen you break a rule.” He grinned - Dan mostly listened to the rules set forth because they aligned with his own values, and not because of the fact that they were rules. Still, he had to admit, his classes over the legal implications of superheroism were sort of interesting, even if the homework never failed to lull him into a sleep before he even took a second look at it.

“But hey, forget I said that. I totally invited you out just so we could forget all of that stuff for a little.” Dan smiled encouragingly. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure Fionn could switch that part of his brain off, but it was worth a try. Dan didn’t think he’d ever be a hero, but the other young man was more than a fit for the part. Really, they couldn’t have picked a better leader even if they made one themselves. “And speaking of, uh, thanks. I mean, I’m glad I got to go out. It’s even worth having to work off that double order of chili-cheese fries that you wouldn’t let me nick. I’m still telling you no one would’ve noticed a thing, but eh.”

A yawn came over Dan then - the telltale sign he’d pushed himself today. It wasn’t often he didn’t find himself tired, but he didn’t want to be a spoilsport and ruin the fun time they were having, so he shook it off, took another drink of his soda, and looked over at Fionn again after the boy had taken his turn. “Nice. So is this - bowling, I mean - something you did before? You’re pretty good. Back home, this wasn’t really something I did even with two good legs, seeing as there were only a few place in Pretoria to even go bowl.”

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn laughed, shrugging on his way to the lane.  Part of him was thankful for the power-dampening bracelet he wore right now, since - had this been taking place the year before - there would’ve been no guarantee that he wouldn’t end up throwing the ball into the wall behind the pins and shattering it.  He pushed that idea to the back of his mind, focusing instead on getting a good score.  Strike.  “Rules are there for a reason, you know,” he reminded Dan, almost automatically.  

He winced, back still to Dan, at the other’s next statement, remembering exactly why he’d agreed to come out here tonight.  He couldn’t just let it go, though, not with the bracelet clamped around his wrist reminding him why he was in Metro City to begin with.  The reminder that they still represented the program even when they were trying to be normal rested at the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back.  Now wasn’t the time.  He smiled at Dan instead, finally coming back to his seat.  “I bet it was much more enjoyable when you pay for it, rather than nick it,” he said, nudging the other super’s shoulder as he sat down and snagged his own drink.  

The yawn caught his eye, but Fionn didn’t say anything when Dan moved on and kept talking.  He shrugged again, sipping from his soda.  “Honestly, not really?  I spent more time inside, reading,” he admitted, glancing back at the lane to see that the pins had been reset for the next go.  “What about you?  What’d you do in your spare time?”

[fionnclarke-blog]

safe and sound for you | fionn + kristján

[haefoxfire-blog]

He breathes, even and deep, brows drawn in concentration as he’s careful to watch, to listen. He’s out of his depth, he knows, because he doesn’t know exactly what the protocol is for a super breaking down like this - is there special protocol? Should he alert a member of staff? His heart rate picks up, keeping pace as it beats beats beats, a dull thud in the background of his mind. Surely, he is not qualified to help, but -

But he doesn’t flinch when Kristján’s fingertips graze his skin and he doesn’t wince at the gentle cadence of his voice, the Icelandic language trying to break through in his speech every time he rolls his tongue. And when the man sways toward him, he jerks, thrown into sudden motion to catch him with both hands, broad and steady, to hold him firmly on either side of his shoulders.

Please.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay, you can pick the sound. Pick the clearest sound.”

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn’s breathing picked up at the same rate as the other’s heart does, the rhythmic thudding growing louder and louder until it’s all he can focus on.  The other male caught him when he swayed closer, warmth once again leeching through his thin training shirt and sinking into his skin and muscles.  It felt good, and he couldn’t help letting out another sob and leaning further into the other super. 

Pick the clearest sound.  So Fionn reached out with a shaky hand, slowly pressing it to the center of the other man’s chest.  His heart was the clearest sound, the loudest sound, now, and the rhythm of it more steadying than he’d ever admit out loud.  Over the next few minutes, Fionn found himself shifting ever closer to the other male, seeking out his heart more and more.

[fionnclarke-blog]

safe and sound for you | fionn + kristján

[haefoxfire-blog]

He stops, goes still as another whimper breaks from the man’s lips. Kristján has never been much of a caretaker; not unless one were to count Snorri or the various plants Afi kept around both the house and the bookshop. People were considerably more complicated and the extent to which he’d ever helped another living, breathing human being was by letting some of the others on the fishing vessel crowd around him to try to absorb his abnormally high body heat on cold nights on the high seas. He supposes his experience with Snorri and plants will have to suffice in this instance. 

Still, Kristján hesitates, unsure of his next step as he continues to creep forward as lightly as possible. As he approaches, he lowers himself to the man’s level, until he is kneeling before him and he can reach out, fingers lightly touching the man’s elbow as he murmurs a soft, “Okay.” Cats, he thinks, gentle cajoling. He blinks, blue eyes narrowly looking the man over, “Do you think you could focus on one sound?”

[fionnclarke-blog]

The person was getting closer and closer, despite Fionn’s whimpers and attempts to get away - he could hear by the person’s heartbeat.  They knelt in front of him - the rustle of clothes against skin, the rasp of clothes against skin against floor - and reached for him, fingers gently grazing the skin of Fionn’s elbow before he could yank away.  Expecting more pain, more burning as his nerves continued firing too much, Fionn almost choked on an inhale and a sob when it didn’t hurt.

He could feel the ridges of skin stretched across the other’s fingers, the slight rasp of just-barely-roughened skin against his own, but most of all, he could feel the warmth.  The heat of the other person’s fingers leeched into his skin, soothing the tingling and quieting the burning just below the surface.  Surprised - no one had managed to touch him during an episode before - Fionn blinked his eyes open, catching only scattered images of the person in front of him before he had to screw his eyes shut again.

Blond hair.  Blue eyes.  A strong jawline.  A nose he could only describe as princely.  And though the other’s features screamed strength, their actions emanated gentleness.  

The other man - for he had a rich, deep voice with a lilting, almost rolling sort of accent - spoke then, and Fionn nodded.  One sound would be enough.  “Please,” he begged, swaying back towards the man.  Please help me.

[fionnclarke-blog]

safe and sound for you | fionn + kristján

[haefoxfire-blog]

Iceland, a small, Nordic island nation with a population of less than half a million people, was a formative facet of Kristján growing up comfortably in relative isolation. Working in a dusty old bookshop for his aged grandfather as an adolescent and eventually moving on to work on a small fishing vessel in the Icelandic seas as a young adult continued to cultivate this sense of safety Kristján best experienced in the quiet. Flying to America, being escorted to Metro City, and being rather roughly moved into Anderson tower absolutely shattered this quiet.

And so it is this sense of quiet he now seeks, quite desperately, as he keeps his paces quick, footfalls silent. Down the corridors, around the corners, descending the stairs, the tips of his fingers grazing along the walls of the halls he walks as he goes. Doors closed. Rooms locked. Unmarked. And when he hears voices echoing, he tucks tail and turns the corner before the voices catch him. 

He’s not been introduced to the others like him, not really, not yet, but he feels he needs more time to adjust to the noise of it all before he can properly say hello. 

It’s when his fingers dip into open air that he pauses, hesitates, turns, blue eyes tracing the door frame of the first open room in a quiet hallway he’d found. It’s not until he takes a tentative step inside and his eyes flick about the space that the sound reaches his ears before drawing his eyes. A whimper. A man. 

Kristján breathes, brows furrowed, the usual ice of eyes melting into something soft, something sweet as he takes another step forward, careful, quiet. His voice is light, gentle, as he speaks. “Sir?”

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn heard the person before they spoke, wincing and pulling himself tighter against the wall at the sound of the footsteps entering the room.  The heartbeat.  He heard it almost as clear as day, even through the hands clamped white-knuckled across his ears in a futile attempt to block the noise.  Please, please don’t see me.  Don’t look at me.  Go away.  Whoever it was didn’t heed his thoughts - not a telepath, then - choosing instead to speak up and move further into the room.

Closer to Fionn.

He whimpered again, then, turning his head away from the other person and pressing himself ever further into the corner at his back.  But then the pressure of the wall at his back started to hurt too much - it burned, it crushed, it hurt - and he swayed away from it with yet another pitiful sound.  

“Too loud,” he found himself whimpering, eyes still screwed shut.  “’s too loud.”

[fionnclarke-blog]

safe and sound for you | fionn + kristján

Fionn couldn’t breathe.  

He didn’t know how he made it outside of the training room without alerting the trainers to his distress.  Hell, he didn’t know how he even got out of the training room at all, let alone without someone noticing how much pain he was in.

lights-

sounds-

All of it was rushing into him, hammering at his eyes and ears until he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but run and hide.  No one could see him like this.

It wasn’t until he finally collapsed in an empty room that it started to get worse.  Now the hypersensitivity had spread to his skin, to the point where he just wanted to rip his clothes off and float where he couldn’t touch anything.  But the second he moved to take his hands off his ears to try, the sounds rushed back in again, and all he could do was sob.

So he backed himself into a corner and curled into a ball, hoping that the pain would just go away.

[emerie-ducain-blog]

“We seemed to have flocked to this place,” she commented lightly, eyes trained on him like a hawk. A slight twitch of his fingers there, a clench of his shoulders there and she’d be able to read his every move. “I guess we’ve just got an unconscious need to show American’s how to do their own things better than them, yeah?” Distantly Emerie sighed at herself. She had thought that he would have taken the bait. Looked like Golden Boy was better at this than she anticipated. “Who said chivalry was dead?” She lifted an amused eyebrow at him, flashing him a grin. “Unfortunately, we’ll be standing here all day if this is how it’s going to go.” There was a ten percent chance that she’d attack first–but only if she found the right opening. Maybe she could take his feet out from under him first. Or make him step back in defense regardless. “I don’t much like attacking first. It’s not really my style.”

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn nodded, still moving.  To be still was to be caught.  “You could say that,” he replied, shrugging slightly.  He didn’t really believe that he was any better than any other Super at the Tower, but he wasn’t about to correct Emerie now.  Not when they were about to fight.  He laughed, then, a bright and cheery sound, shrugging.  “Just thought I’d offer, y’know?  Only polite to offer.”  With that, he lunged at the other Super, aiming to grasp her wrist and tug her off balance.

[wordweaverisla-blog]

Grimacing at the thought of taking any hits to her chest or ribs, Isla made a mental snapshot of how Fionn positioned her arms. She was still sure she wouldn’t need to be doing much hand to hand out in the ‘real world’ but truthfully she wouldn’t mind holding her own (or better) against partners during combat training here in the tower. It wasn’t like she was a public target like most of the others, she still had her privacy agreement in effect but even she knew deep down that wasn’t a solid foul proof plan of protection. The information could leak, she could one day leave the tower and forgot to make sure her hood is pulled low enough and anyone potentially watching the building could see her face and assume she must be a Super of some sort.

…yeah, she needed this lesson after all.

“Questing Beast?” She asked, head titled a bit as she ran through the list of fictional beasts she knew of in her head to see if it struck anything familiar. “I’ll have to look into it. I have to make sure I could at least best it when need be. Because if I can’t control it long enough to be able to send it back, we’re all screwed.” She laughed before her eyes left Fionn and looked back at her hands. “At least I know you’re supposed to keep your thumb tucked. Probably can’t tell I’ve been here six months, huh?“ She knew she wasn’t up to par with most of the Supers who had been there as long as she had but she wasn’t too ashamed of that. Where she lacked in combat, Isla felt like she had made good strides in a few areas of her abilities since moving into the tower.

[fionnclarke-blog]

“Questing Beast,” Fionn confirmed, nodding almost sagely as he circled Isla another time to make absolutely sure her form was correct.  “It’s from the old Arthurian legends, at least that’s where I know it from.  A- Mum used to read them to me when I was little, and the idea of such a terrifying creature existing kind of stuck with me, you know?” he said, though a flicker of a grimace slipped across his face at the slip of his tongue.  He’d told himself he wouldn’t say anything about Aran while he was here.  He’d been doing so well.

He looked back at her hands at the same time she did, nodding again, the grimace a thing of the past now.  “You got that right,” he said, reaching out and making a minute adjustment to her leading fist.  He furrowed his brows, looking back up at her at the comment about her being here six months.  “That doesn’t matter,” Fionn said, shaking his head.  “The important thing is that you’re learning.  Not everyone is going to be a natural at everything.  You’re just better with your powers than you are with your close quarters combat.  But you’re trying.  That’s all that matters.”

[emerie-ducain-blog]

She took her steps carefully–they were calculated, in a sense. Not slow enough to give herself away but certainly not the excited movements of someone who was relieved to have their band off and get to things. They’d been waltzing since the moment she’d volunteered to spar, and she was a brilliant dancer. “I said you wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on me,” she kept up the banter, watching him move, “It’d be kind of silly of me to negate that statement voluntarily, no?” At his words Emerie kept her space, shoulders relaxed and hands at her side, seemingly unprepared. She wasn’t an attacker. She’d never been strong growing up. Even before her powers had manifested she’d learned that her means of survival would come from reading people. Reading them and then reacting. Maybe that was the link to the powers that had manifested later–maybe her body had just adapted. She inclined her head at him, a small invitation, “After you, Fionn.”

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn laughed, nodding at her statement even as she kept moving.  She seemed unprepared, but he knew better than to let his guard down.  After all, their bracelets were off, and when he couldn’t remember her power?  It’d be beyond idiotic for him to relax now.  “It would be silly, yeah,” he said, jerking his chin at her in a quick nod.  “You’re from across the pond too, aren’t you?” he asked, trying to distract her with small talk.  Trying to give himself more time before he made his move.  She invited him to move, and he shook his head, grinning.  “I think it’s ladies first, innit?  ‘S only polite of me if I let you go first,” Fionn replied, barely resisting the temptation to tack on a silly gesture.  After all, that’d just be leaving himself wide open for attack.

[dan-fitzpatrick]

Respite || Dan & Fionn

Ever since Dan’s complete upheaval of his life, he felt like it was hard to put down roots of any kind - relationships, a home, even who he felt like anymore. Dan didn’t know who he was, and sometimes he really did feel like he was in danger of simply disappearing. It was a cruel irony sometimes, but it was his life now, and no amount of complaining would change that. Jennifer had encouraged him to make friends at the EPTP, and even though she had no way of really getting it, she was right. Dan tried to be friendly, then, but it was difficult to make anything lasting or beyond the status of facebook friend and real life acquaintance.

Well, mostly.

Fionn Clarke was the sort of person he’d have overlooked before - a little quiet, understated, and generally a nice guy. Old Dan would’ve dubbed him ‘boring’ and moved on in a heartbeat, but it was those qualities that had brought him now to enjoy Fionn’s company. Dan wasn’t intense anymore, and he appreciated Fionn’s patience and kindness, even if he tended to be a little uptight sometimes.

Which was why a night out had been something Dan insisted on. Fionn needed to loosen up, and Dan needed to see living, breathing, non-powered people doing normal things - so bowling it was.

The pair were about halfway through their current game with Dan returning from yet another gutterball. It was hard to throw a bowling ball correctly with a crutch, but he didn’t care about his score - instead, he shot a grin at Fionn as he trudged back to his plastic seat.

“Yeah, okay, now beat that. Oh, wait you can’t get any lower than zero!” He exhaled as he sat heavily in the seat, looking over at his friend. “Then again you are Captain Impossible, so who knows what you can do, no?”

[fionnclarke-blog]

Fionn knew the difficulties of being thousands of miles from home, almost completely alone in a strange country.  He said almost alone because he was lucky enough that both Felix and Emerie were both from the United Kingdom like him.  He had people who knew where he was from and the struggles he was going through adapting to living in America without any family nearby.  Others, however, weren’t as lucky.

So he appointed himself as the sort of unofficial welcoming committee to all the new Supers, making sure that they knew at least someone would be there for them to talk to, to vent to when they felt homesick and alone.  

Which is how he met Dan.  

And, as a matter of fact, which is how he found himself bowling with the other male.  Fionn was up by some ridiculous number of points - it was hard not to be, what with Dan throwing gutterball after gutterball - but he didn’t much care.  All that mattered right now was the grin he caught from Dan as the other male returned to his seat at the end of his turn.  

He returned the grin, shaking his head as he stood and went to grab his bowling ball, lifting it out of the ball return with ease.  “I think getting a negative number here is a little more on the ‘definitely impossible’ side of things,” he replied, shrugging.  “At least, in the computer.  We could definitely deduct points if I end up scoring on someone else’s lane - then I’ll get lower than zero this time around.”

[harrypotterhousequotes]