[finn wakes up in the hospital, and that part feels right, but there is something about the atmosphere that feels off. unfamiliar. his back is sore, and that feels right too, but he has no idea where he is at all. there is an instinct to hide, so finn sneaks out in his hospital gown, and the back of it slides a little off his back as he escapes the hospital itself and hurries through the town, giving a glimpse of a long burn scar down his back. he wishes he could remember what it was from, but he's more concerned about finding actual pants.]
Hey, you! Where can I find some clothes?
( two )
[the scream sends a chill up his spine. any uncertainty about the town gets overrun by the need to help, and finn finds himself bursting into a run towards the sound. anyone he asks says it's best to ignore it, but he can't.]
[it doesn't stop him from running up to people almost out of breath, anyone he sees on the street.] Did you hear that? Please tell me you heard that, and don't tell me that's normal!
( three )
[there is so much food and finn doesn't know what to do with it. it has flavor and smells and his stomach rumbles because he takes too long shuffling between everything and trying to decide what he wants. he's not used to having options, so he'll gesture at people, with a sort of faux casualness because he doesn't want anyone to know he has no idea what most of it is.] You got a favorite?
[by the time the fireworks roll around, he's stuffed his face, but he's frowning. he feels like he's seen fireworks before, he knows he has here at the pines, but it makes him uncomfortable. like the fancy explosions are meant for a celebration of something more menacing and bloody. catch him sitting unhappy on a bench, fidgeting with his fighter pilot jacket while the fireworks keep going on over head and he studiously pretends they're not. someone hands him a sparkler, but he wrinkles his nose, and immediately passes it off to the next person he sees.] You can have it.
finn | star wars
[finn wakes up in the hospital, and that part feels right, but there is something about the atmosphere that feels off. unfamiliar. his back is sore, and that feels right too, but he has no idea where he is at all. there is an instinct to hide, so finn sneaks out in his hospital gown, and the back of it slides a little off his back as he escapes the hospital itself and hurries through the town, giving a glimpse of a long burn scar down his back. he wishes he could remember what it was from, but he's more concerned about finding actual pants.]
Hey, you! Where can I find some clothes?
( two )
[the scream sends a chill up his spine. any uncertainty about the town gets overrun by the need to help, and finn finds himself bursting into a run towards the sound. anyone he asks says it's best to ignore it, but he can't.]
[it doesn't stop him from running up to people almost out of breath, anyone he sees on the street.] Did you hear that? Please tell me you heard that, and don't tell me that's normal!
( three )
[there is so much food and finn doesn't know what to do with it. it has flavor and smells and his stomach rumbles because he takes too long shuffling between everything and trying to decide what he wants. he's not used to having options, so he'll gesture at people, with a sort of faux casualness because he doesn't want anyone to know he has no idea what most of it is.] You got a favorite?
[by the time the fireworks roll around, he's stuffed his face, but he's frowning. he feels like he's seen fireworks before, he knows he has here at the pines, but it makes him uncomfortable. like the fancy explosions are meant for a celebration of something more menacing and bloody. catch him sitting unhappy on a bench, fidgeting with his fighter pilot jacket while the fireworks keep going on over head and he studiously pretends they're not. someone hands him a sparkler, but he wrinkles his nose, and immediately passes it off to the next person he sees.] You can have it.