Cylus 3, Arc 719
It has been a few trials now since Yrmellyn has made her last appearance. Last time they spoke very briefly she mentioned something about painting in solitude. A strike of muse perhaps? Finn didn't know nor understood how creativity worked so he just shrugged, told her he'd be fine continuing the work until she was ready to rejoin. And that's exactly what he did.
When working on his own, he cleared out the rest of the debris and started fixing the walls, floor and ceiling. As far as furniture went the place only had the bed he bought with all the shebang, one chair that could be fixed and some mildly damaged cupboards that Finn wasn't sure whether to replace or save. It was quite empty but at least it did not look like a dump anymore. He'd need to discuss the matter of furniture with Yrmellyn at some point in more depth given that at the end of the project this place would still be hers so in terms of decor, she had more say then Finn.
And so the season has come and gone and night has descended on the world faster than the priest would have like. By this point, he started to worry. It resonated with him oddly like the time Telar left him in Ne'haer and then died of terrible cold which Finn now knew was probably his spark having killed him. Moreover, there was almost no sound from the other apartment. Not that he was by the door eavesdropping and all, but the walls weren't particularly well insulated.
Rubbing his hands together and stretching his shoulders after a trials work, his mind walked with him towards the apartment across the corridor. Hands on his lower back, his spine cracked a few times. Now was as good a time as ever.
So after a moment of contemplation, Finn made a decision. Leaving his apartment and its gentle crackling of the fire, he stood in the much cooler corridor, hesitating for but a moment before rapping the knuckles on the door.
"Yrmellyn? Are you in there?" There was always the chance that she went off travelling as well. After all, she had no responsibility to report to him whatsoever. She was free to do as she chose so Finn may have just been worrying for nothing really.
When working on his own, he cleared out the rest of the debris and started fixing the walls, floor and ceiling. As far as furniture went the place only had the bed he bought with all the shebang, one chair that could be fixed and some mildly damaged cupboards that Finn wasn't sure whether to replace or save. It was quite empty but at least it did not look like a dump anymore. He'd need to discuss the matter of furniture with Yrmellyn at some point in more depth given that at the end of the project this place would still be hers so in terms of decor, she had more say then Finn.
And so the season has come and gone and night has descended on the world faster than the priest would have like. By this point, he started to worry. It resonated with him oddly like the time Telar left him in Ne'haer and then died of terrible cold which Finn now knew was probably his spark having killed him. Moreover, there was almost no sound from the other apartment. Not that he was by the door eavesdropping and all, but the walls weren't particularly well insulated.
Rubbing his hands together and stretching his shoulders after a trials work, his mind walked with him towards the apartment across the corridor. Hands on his lower back, his spine cracked a few times. Now was as good a time as ever.
So after a moment of contemplation, Finn made a decision. Leaving his apartment and its gentle crackling of the fire, he stood in the much cooler corridor, hesitating for but a moment before rapping the knuckles on the door.
"Yrmellyn? Are you in there?" There was always the chance that she went off travelling as well. After all, she had no responsibility to report to him whatsoever. She was free to do as she chose so Finn may have just been worrying for nothing really.
