#finn james

[kayleerowena]

forgive the sea, follow the tide

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[glassgob]

i’m living proof that nothing gets done

[ID: Digital busts of Finn James and Kennedy Loser from the video game Blaseball. Finn is a pale anglerfish humanoid wearing a scuba diving suit. She is in profile, facing to the left with a mildly serious expression. In the corner are illustrations of her modifications: heist expert and mild. 

Kennedy Loser is a pale, middle-aged carcinized individual with shame-faced crab features, including mandibles and claw arm. He is facing to the right with a somewhat hardened expression. There are human silhouettes in the background. In the corner are his in-game modifications: alternate, haunted, negative, and reverberating. Finn’s portrait is red-shifted while Kennedy’s is blue-shifted. End ID.]

[wowwforever]

Timb James

[hyp3rbolee]

finn james but i drew her with my playstation controller

[stainedglassgob]

brush tests ft. brock, bertie, and finn

[killswtch]

hee hee fishy

consider. DOGW / ALKER and finn james.

[doublevampires]

it’s been a few weeks since finn’s seen kennedy.

she’s seen his body, but that isn’t the same, not anymore; there’s a rotating cast of ghosts possessing him, ghosts she knew and ghosts she feels a bit guilty for never having heard of before, so it’s never ken behind his eyes, anymore. someone else’s features are always superimposed, half-visible overtop of kennedy’s, like he’s accidentally walked in front of a projector showing all of the end-of-season memorial slideshows back-to-back.

it’s three-quarters of the way through the season, and she’s no closer to knowing what to do about it. she is kind to the ghosts, because it isn’t their fault they want a taste of sunlight, food, old friends, all the things kennedy can give them that they cannot reach in the trench — but her smile’s becoming strained at the edges. doesn’t quite reach her eyes, by now.

she swims to the surface and there’s kennedy, sitting cross-legged on a bench in front of the candy store with the largest bowl of ice cream finn’s ever seen. the ghost is one finn recognizes: zi’s haunted a half-dozen games by now, and finn’s seen her outside of games a handful of times, walking on tip-toes (not like she's used to being taller, but like it’s a habit) and eating sweets.

ignoring her would be rude. she’s noticed finn, already; she’s waving, stretching kennedy’s face into a smile that doesn’t quite fit. ignoring her would be so, so rude, but finn thinks about it, anyway, lets herself entertain the thought of dipping back under the water and not surfacing till the next time she needs to pitch.

obviously, she doesn’t. it isn’t zi’s fault she’s taking the open-door policy ken’s put in place! finn can hardly be upset with her for that, even if part of her is. “hi, zi!” she says, because she’s taken it upon herself to greet the ghosts during the game, welcome them to the crabs, make sure they feel at home in this body that does not / should not belong to them, and the same responsibility hovers over her now. “uh! how’s it going?”

“finn, oh my god!! this is the best ice cream i’ve ever tasted in my life!” she sets the bowl down on the bench next to her, waves finn over. “d’ya want some? i can run back inside and get another spoon, if y’want!! we’ve only got weird green-flavor ice cream back in the up — or, we did, before the mcd’s sunk into the swamp! now we don’t have any! but this is way better, anyway!”

it’s too much, too soon after finn surfacing — she’s okay with high-energy when it comes from her friends, her teammates, but she doesn’t know how to handle it with strangers, how to echo it when she doesn’t know the person, not really. the sharp drop into this after a couple hours in the nice muted quiet of the bay makes finn grimace, involuntary. “oh, uh. no, i’m okay, i think.” it takes her a moment of awkward quiet to tack on a “thanks, though!”, remembering to fake a smile again.

she doesn’t do it quickly enough, if the way zi’s mouth twists to one side and her brow furrows is any indication. kennedy echoes the expression behind zi’s features — or maybe the other way around. “y’sure?” she asks, and finn nods. “you okay? sorry if it’s a bad time!”

“i’m fine! i’m alright, don’t worry,” she says, because it’s not the ghosts’ responsibility, to handle finn’s concern for the person they’re possessing. zi seems perfectly nice, and finn’s sure she would listen and understand — but finn knows what spending years without seeing the sun is like, too, and she isn’t going to give anyone reason to feel guilty for wanting that.

before zi can ask again, finn says, forcing her voice to be chipper: “i have to get going, actually! but enjoy your ice cream! if you talk to ken, tell him to text me sometime, okay?”

“okie-doke!” zi grins, and a pang of guilt weighs finn down for a moment, but she gets her feet moving. feeling bad about not wanting the ghosts here doesn’t help her, and doesn’t help the ghosts, and doesn’t help ken, either, but sometimes it’s hard to keep the feeling at bay. “have a good one, finn!”

“you too, zi.” the moment her back is turned, finn lets the smile drop off her face, and feels guilty for that, too.

[toasthaste-art]

She’s here and she’s finally gonna get to use her pitching stars!