@leadme said →
“ feels like my brain's gonna explode. ” — from eyeless jack to finnegan ?
( src. / accepting. )
The pleasant breath of flute-song had only just ended.
"I'm terribly sorry," Finnegan says, wincing slightly as though feeling the same sort of pain himself.
In avoidance of conflict, Finnegan's only solution is to send his pursuers to sleep. The many beings who don't succumb so easily to his song suffer their own sorts of non-lethal consequences. Finnegan has previously fielded complaints of headaches and vertigo as a result of sleep failing to take hold—only this case seems particularly intense.
If he had known he was in the presence of someone his music would have affected in that way, he… Well, he most likely would have played the few panicked notes anyway. One's own survival must take precedence, even for someone like Finnegan who isn't so easily killed.
"I had no other choice. Faced with an uncertain situation, it's best to lean on certainties." He eyes the sleeping bodies before him with a sense of wary curiosity—nearly human, he thinks, but not quite. There's a nice sense of irony to that which would make for a good story.
Then he turns his focus back to the awake individual—eerie in presence and in song, a low series of intense notes that border on discordant. Were Finnegan more inexperienced with the wide breadth of the worlds-upon-worlds, he might have found himself afraid. But there is much that he has seen, and he has become much harder to terrify.
"Your pain may take some time to abate," he carries on, guiltily. "I'm afraid I've made a very ill-mannered first impression, stranger in a strange land that I am. Is there some way I may make up for my impoliteness?"
