Laboratory Beta, Brunnhold
![Image](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/522560984754421762/556003861379284994/Fionn_Brooding.jpg)
He was still excited, charged with a nervous, giddy energy at the prospect of seeing the scientist and discussing his own theories and thoughts with the man but the prospect of lying face down on his bed and sighing dolorously also had a certain appeal to it. It'd be all too easy to allow himself to be boneless, lying limply on his bed while letting his mind go blank and his body to rest. Not that his mind was ever truly blank. Not even when he slept could he count of the blessing of peace, not unless he was so weary that everything shut off the moment he hit the mattress.
After the day with the artist and his preening model, Fionn didn't want to consider the effort of going to Laboratory Beta and talking with Harper. Given how insignificant he'd ultimately been made to feel today, he wasn't sure that he actually had something of value to offer.
But he was still bloody curious! It was a longstanding character flaw on his part, the very thing that had earned him some of the scars he bore even though some of his questions had been asked out of genuine interest rather than out of malice or cheek. So even though he felt like the useless husk of some vegetable that ought to be discarded, the young man still felt the pull towards intelligent conversation and knowledge.
Why would Harper have chosen to meet him after these many months? Why did he want to see Fionn now?
Once Madeleine had left - escaping thanks to a kindly reminder from the passive that the girl had to eat - then the servant had the task of cleaning up the materials that Gus had utilised over the course of the day. Drawing and painting implements were gathered up, sorted and carefully stored away. Utensils and surfaces that needed to be cleaned were wiped off, a fine tissue paper was placed between the various pages that had served as the professor's canvases and stored in a neat bundle. The artist lingered as long as Fionn did, not exactly helping as he lost himself in some reverie over the day's subject matter.
When he was at last dismissed, the older man meandering to dinner in one direction while Fionn went in another, the blond was left to wonder if Gus would come right back after his evening meal and set things in disarray in the passive's absence. It wouldn't be the first time that the middle Madden had tidied things only to discover later that his patron had messed everything up again as inspiration struck and he pawed through his own sketches, scattering them haphazardly about the place. The man couldn't be entirely lacking in self-awareness but he still wondered how anyone could make so much mess so thoughtlessly. From what he'd gathered from Niamh, Harper was much the same way. Perhaps slovenliness was the price of genius.
The youth headed for the canteen relegated for passive use, too late to lend a hand in any sort of meal preparation but taking his share all the same. Dinner was stew, a hot and hearty meal although the chill of the last month had finally dissipated. It was a welcome thing all the same, the young man paying little attention to the vague unidentifiable shapes in the viscous brown slop as he shovelled it into him. The only thing that slowed him down was the need to chew and breathe - he couldn't exactly inhale the stuff after all. There were more vegetables in it than meat although they'd been stewed to a point of relative uniformity where taste was concerned but he didn't much care all the same. He did register in a vague way that the meat was a little on the wobbly side and had a tang of metal about it so it was probably offal rather than anything from the outside of a carcass. The galdori got the best after all but waste not, want not.
With his belly full and his mood lifted a little alongside his blood sugars, the blond set off for his appointment with Moore.
Even though it was the end of the week and later in the day, the teenager didn't allow himself to relax too much. His walk was swift and purposeful, not too fast as to appear to be running from something but quick enough to suggest urgency and a definite destination. If someone had flagged him down then he would have had to stop and explain that he was already occupied but that wouldn't necessarily be a deterrent to any galdori who wanted to send him on a job. Thankfully, it wasn't so late that older students were staggering back guttered after a night of revelry in the Stacks because they could cause a special sort of trouble for a passive in the name of their own entertainment. Many of the students weren't actively cruel to passives, many of them felt pity or guilt about their magically defective brethren but there was something about alcohol and drugs that lowered inhibitions which, together with a gaggle of similarly uninhibited peers, made people do things that they wouldn't normally do.
Only when he was almost at his destination did the young man allow himself to relax. The posture slouched, hands finding their way into pockets as his pace slowed, Fionn letting out a long sigh of relief as he rolled his shoulders to ease the tension in them. No one was going to bother him now and he might as well try to view the time ahead in a positive light. He was a bit more accustomed to galdori now, a little more aware that those like Moore and Devlin were willing to listen to him so he was less likely to spit bile and frustration and more likely to let his curiosity - and his intelligence - have a bit more free rein. Even if the monic theorist had a purpose in calling him here, Fionn was confident that he could draw what he wanted out of the man; the topic of his research was something that evidently excited him so getting him to talk about it wasn't exactly manipulative. The young man also hoped that he'd have a chance to see what was wrong with Niamh as he hadn't been able to investigate the reason for her low spirits earlier in the day.
Smartly rapping on the door, he let the recently loosed hand to rest casually against his leg, shifting his weight to the other side while he waited. The steps on the other side were brisk but soft, the familiarity of the field enveloping him before the portal swung open to reveal his sister smiling wanly.
"Hello again. I was wondering when you were going to show up," Niamh commented, hovering in the doorway rather than stepping aside.
"Hi. Sorry, Gus can get a bit-" he finished the sentence with a vague wave of the hand, removing his other hand from his pocket. He made as if to reach out to her, leaving his hands to hover awkwardly a little above his hips.
"Don't apologise. I wasn't giving out, Fionn." The young woman stepped forward to envelop him in a hug as he'd been expecting her to do; he still wasn't used to this. He moved his hands to rest on the middle of her back, one patting awkwardly while she squeezed him, tighter than usual, almost as if she was afraid she was going to lose him. There was that ripple of distress in her field again before she stepped back, smile overly bright.
"I'll make some tea. You'll have some, won't you?" she asked quickly before hurrying back into the lab before he could do more than nod, lips poised to ask a question. "Harper! Fionn's here so I'm going to make some tea. Will you have another cup?" she asked as she bustled around, busying herself. Her brother followed her in and pushed the door shut behind him.
"Hello, Professor Moore. Should I... should I call you Harper?" Fionn asked uncertainly, a hand gliding over blond strands, not sure if he should keep his hands at his sides or stick them in his pockets. He settled for clasping them behind his back instead, rocking forward onto his toes and back on his heels. "Um... you wanted to see me?"