• Graded • The Other Half [Finn]

[Maltruism]

The Other Half

15 Ashan, arc 717

The orphanage was always a noisy place. Every childish emotion was present in force, squealing from every corner of each room. Competing braggarts trying to out-exaggerate their competition. Cries for food or water, mixed with the protests that the shares of each, already received, were totally unfair. Insults and teasing, drowned out by the screaming outrage of hurt feelings and threats of bringing the wrath of the grown-ups down on one meanie or another.

There were even squeals of happiness slipping in among the shrieks of ultimate anguish, at least those that were likely to be heard by the busy adults. If none of them were about, the screams waned quickly, as there was nothing to be gained by giving vent to the theater of absolute suffering that might gain someone an extra cookie or cup of juice.

This was not to say that weren't bullies and thieves among the orphans. But the level of abuse commonly suffered at the hands of these fiends was rarely any worse than what these children would be suffering at the hands of their overworked, under-appreciated parents, long drained of patience; if these same parents had not died in any one of the more recent tragedies.

So for now, those adults who had no particularly battle-hardened skills were sitting in as surrogate moms and dads, to give these children some hope for a future. Many resented this assignment, feeling as if it was only the useless ones that got stuck with such an inglorious chore. But others embraced the thought of nurturing the abandoned portion of the city's future, feeling that any additional positive effect they can contribute could only be social profit.

It was not hard to tell the difference between these two philosophies. Both smiled and spoke optimistically to the new arrivals. But in the eyes lay the real indicator of their true level of devotion to their impressionable young wards. The gleam of genuine desire to cultivate productive additions to the citizenry, or the steely calculating assessment of what gain could be had at their expense.

And these were the two gazes being turned on the newest arrival, a little dark-haired girl named "Molly". The other children as well were inclined to see how things panned out with the 'new kid' before exposing their own standing to the potential stigma of some new stranger. Right off, this one already dropped a few marks in the eyes of most of the others. It seemed like she wouldn't, or couldn't, talk.

[Finnegan O'Connor]

Finn O'Connor

:: 15th Ashan, 717

With his hands stuffed firmly into his pockets, Finn sauntered over to his usual spot at one of the tables in the large hall. He was late for lunch as usual, and most of the other children were already finishing up by the time he plonked down on one of the benches. One of the caretakers, a middle-aged woman by the name of Magge, let out a quiet sigh and wagged her finger at him but spared them both a pointless lecture. Without a word she sliced of a few pieces of bread and set it on a plate before him.

"Why does he get more?" a red-haired boy with a good splattering of freckles over his face piped up. "It's not fair!"

"He got three slices just like everyone else Howard," Magge sighed.

"But he was late! He's always late and he never gets punished for it."

"That's not true Howard. Just because he was late doesn't mean we should starve him does it?" Magge had always been one of the more kind and optimistic caretakers, and she was as well-respected as one could be amid the wild tribe of Etzori children.

Howard shot a vile scowl at Finn who, so far, didn't pay much mind to the argument. It wasn't until Magge had gone off to tend to a young girl that had bruised her knee that Howard demanded his attention. "You won't always get away with it, you know," Howard hissed through his teeth as he leaned in over the table.

Finn offered a small shrug in return and simply kept eating. So far, he had gotten away with being late and wandering about the city on almost every ocassion. Thanks to the recent influx of new children, he doubted any of the caretakers had even noticed just how often he slipped in and out of the orphanage. When Howard didn't slink back into his seat however, Finn merely offered a smirk. "I dunno whatcha talking about."

If Magge or any other of the unfortunate caretakers hadn't been around, Howards surely would have launched himself over the table. Instead, a more discrete kick under the table was doled out and Finn grimaced in reply but otherwise didn't respond. He wasn't so stupid as to start a fight right under the noses of the caretakers.

Soon after Finn had eaten all the little crumbs off his plate, Magge called him over, much to Howard's delight. It looked like he wasn't entirely getting away with being late this time.

"Normally I'd have you help out with the dishes," Magge said as she motioned for Finn to follow her, "but I think I have a more suitable task for you."

"What for like?" Finn demanded to know. "I already did my chores. I made me bed, I hung the old linnen out to dry, I cleaned the tables an'all this morning and I-"

Magge shushed him with a single motion of her hand as she guided him along the corridors. "For being late again Finn. Don't think we don't know about your misadventures, we're not blind, deaf, and stupid."

"I don't know what you-"

"Please," Magge rolled her eyes at him, "don't give me that shite again, this place is tough enough to run without you making up fairy tales about where you've been all day."

Finn was tempted to answer, but bit his tongue as he recognized the thunderclouds that were gathering in Magge's eyes. He'd lived in the orphanage all his live, and getting Magge angry at you was an achievement even he rather avoided. In silence, they made way to a different hall where some of the new orphans were temporarily accomodated. The room was poorly lit as the long, tall windows that lined the walls hadn't been cleaned in a good long while. The few sunrays that did manage to enter revealed the many thin dust particles that hovered around the space. A few heads turned as they entered, but most of the children ignored them and continued whatever they had been doing.

"You're not putting me in with the new ones, are you miss?" Finn exclaimed a little too loudly, a look of horror marring his face.

"Keep talking back to me and I just might," Magge grumbled back before stopping in the middle of the hall and sending a searching gaze around. Eventually her features lit up, and she bowed down a little to point out her target to Finn. "See that girl over there? The new one with the black hair?"

"Yeah..."

"I want you to talk to her."

Finn furrowed his brows in confusion, then took a step back. "D'you reckon she fancies me?" he asked with the utmost sincerity.

A chuckle escaped Magge. "No...no, that's not the point. She's new and very shy. Hasn't said much. In fact, I don't think she has said anything at all. Her name is Molly."

"Why d'you want me to talk to 'er then, miss?"

"Cause it seems to be your favorite pastime."

"Talking to girls?" he huffed.

"No just talking in general. Now go on, before I change my mind and have you clean out the chamber pots instead."

He required no further encouragement and made his way over to the girl, stuffing his hands into his pockets again along the way. It wasn't until he halted before the girl that he realized he hadn't given a moment's thought to what to say.

"Hi."

Pause.

He stretched out his hand and offered it to the girl. "I'm Finn. You're Molly right? I was told you're new. I uh-" he shot a glance in the direction where Magge had been standing, but could no longer spot her there. "I guess I could show you 'round?" he said as he scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

[Maltruism]

The girl had tossed her head to bring dark bangs away from her eyes as the boy approached. Her eyes held his direction for just that fraction of a tick as she did so, giving the impression that the gesture was more to cover her effort to confirm that he was approaching, rather than to get hair out of her eyes

She quickly picked up a doll as he arrived, going through an effort to seem interested in it, as she flopped it around in her lap, occasionally flicking glances up at him as he stood there. The look of surprise she gave him at his greeting was not genuine enough to really fool him, but there seemed to be a slight relaxing of her gaze when he did not call her out on it.

She tilted her head quizzically as he continued to speak, in that endearing way a puppy does when it sees something interesting and new. If she'd had floppy ears she may have even looked like one with her narrow face and big eyes. She said nothing, but nodded guardedly in response to his confirmation of their names.

When he stopped mid-sentence to look in the caretaker's direction, the girl cringed and ducked, to put him between whoever he might be looking at, as if she was afraid some sort of unpleasant interaction was about to occur between the boy and one of the adults.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she hesitated to respond to his offer of an impromptu tour. She leaned out to one side of him, and then to the other, confirming for herself that none of the grow-ups were approaching, her breath coming far more quickly than anything justified. But eventually she looked back up at him, as he scratched his neck in what seemed like a fair degree of his own uncertainty.

She put the doll down and stood up, nodding. She held her hands up to indicate that they should wait a moment as she looked down one hallway after another. It would become quickly obvious to anyone with any observational skills that she was checking which options had adults present, pointing the two that did not, to let Finn know that those were the two ways she was willing to go with him.

Even though she was greatly hindering his choices, she still seemed willing to let him decide between the two that she presented.

[Finnegan O'Connor]

Finn O'Connor

:: 15th Ashan, 717

Finn let his arm drop awkwardly to his side when the girl didn't shake his hand. His eyes fell on the silly doll that she seemed so interested in. Those things gave him the creeps, with their wide, open eyes and he quickly looked away. Just when he was getting the creeping suspicion that Molly was hiding something, things got even stranger.

"Do I look weird?" He patted his hair and glanced down at his shirt to make sure there weren't any stains on it. For whatever reason, Molly seemed to have shifted her attention from the doll onto him, as though he was some kind of exotic creature that she had never seen before. The next moment, Molly leapt forward and hid behind him, causing him to wonder about the mental well-being of the girl. It didn't reflect too well on him either, for the damning looks of some other children were sent in their direction.

Keen to get himself away from prying eyes and avoid further demolition of his reputation, Finn started the tour by getting out of the hall as quickly as possible. It was then that he started to understand part of what the girl was trying to communicate. The mere sight of a caretaker seemed to upset her a great deal, and the incessant pointing in adult-free directions only confirmed his suspicions.

"They don't bite you know," he said over his shoulder. "The caretakers I mean. Most of em don't at least. Dun worry..." he waved his hand dismissively. It was no use. The heavy breathing of the girl whenever a caretaker came in sight told him as much. "OK, have it your way then...That hall leads towards the kitchen, but we're not allowed to go there, except for doing the dishes." Finn failed to mention that doing the dishes was more of a punitive measure than a task for the orphans. The task had befallen him so often however that he simply counted it among his chores. "Anyway," he motioned for her to follow, "if we go upstairs here we go to the girl's dormitories. Technically it's forbidden for boys but..." a slanted smile followed. "Anyway, I've got you with me so I guess it's alright."

Fortunately they didn't encounter anymore caretakers on the stairs, nor on the broad corridor that followed. Their only company were their hollow footsteps, reflecting off the walls and high ceiling. After having passed a few doors, one for the janitor's office, and two sleeping areas for the more permanent caretakers, Finn finally halted before the door leading into the girl's dormitories.

"It's not terribly exciting," he shrugged as he pushed the door open, revealing a large room, filled with row upon row of bunk beds. "It's a bit cleaner than ours though."He held the door open for Molly and wandered in after her. Aside from the beds, some nightstands, and two large closets containing neatly folded piles of girl's clothes, there wasn't much in the room.

"So uhm," Finn quietly shut the door behind him before taking a seat on the edge of the nearest bed and patted the spot next to him, inviting her to sit next to him. "Why don't you talk? There's nothing to be afraid of...or are you a mute? Hang on a moment..."

He jumped up and rummaged through the second closet in the room until he returned with a piece of paper and charcoal. "If you can't talk...you can write, right?"

[Maltruism]

The boy surely meant it when he stated that the caretakers didn't bite, but the girl's look in response indicated that she was not so sure. She followed him up the stairs nonetheless, listening to his descriptions of each room's purpose.

At each door, there was just a glint of some sort of hope, but it sagged back into disappointment with Finn's descriptions. When he commented on how the girls' dorms were not terribly exciting, Molly's eyes rolled subtly, as if not being exciting was turning out to be the rule of the day.

He invited her to sit beside him on the cot. She complied hesitantly, her head drooping slightly at his question regarding her lack of speech. She looked for a moment as if she wanted to answer, but then sighed heavily and looked just a little bit the other way. Her sigh had an odd sound. Most peoples' sighs conveyed some semblance of a vocal tone; some hint of a voice. But hers was oddly void of timbre, just air blown through a hollow tube.

He brought the charcoal and paper to her, asking about the possibility that she could write instead of speaking. She stared at it blankly for a moment before her head once again sagged slightly. It was hard to tell if she truly did not know her letters, or if she was just felt depressed and didn't want to tell about it. Finn would surely realize that it would be an arduous ordeal for her to scratch down a draft of her feelings with charcoal and paper.

Suddenly though, her eyes grew intense and she turned her eyes back to him. She grabbed the paper and tilted her head briefly, once again adopting a look of some sort of appraisal. She drew a square in the corner of the page pointing to the both of them and tapping the square on the page. She followed that by adding a small slanted line at one point on one of the sides of the square, and pointed at the door.

Next were a series of parallel lines connecting more added squares to the first square and each other. She indicated the first set of parallel lines and pointed to the hall they'd come through to reach the room. She waved for him to come with her as she made her way back they way they had come. The pattern of her tapping different squares on the page, timed with her pointing at the various doors they passed, soon made it obvious she was creating a rough map of the facility.

There were still the halls they had not traversed; the ones Finn had not given her a tour of yet. She gave him several questioning looks and rewarded him with genuine smiles when he filled in details of the layout and purpose of some of the other rooms she had not seen. But she still did not speak, or appear to even mistakenly attempt it.

Each new square on the page was initially addresses with considerable enthusiasm, but would mostly be met by disappointment when Finn told her what room it was. It was not until they got to the square representing the director's office, that her eyes gleamed with continued enthusiasm. She alternated pointing at herself and then Finn a couple times, then tapped the square on the page representing the office room, with an aggressive nod.

[Finnegan O'Connor]

Finn O'Connor

:: 15th Ashan, 717

A heavy frown marred his face as he studied the girl's scribblings. It didn't look like a word, it didn't even look like a drawing! Tilting his head, Finn tried to decipher the meaning of the straight lines as he scratched his head. Then it dawned on him. It was a map! A broad smile parted his lips and he gave Molly a thumbs up before leading the way again. After a few rooms, the game became quite clear to Finn and he eagerly showed her each and every room whilst also taking care to avoid as many adults as possible along the way.

Finn almost skipped over the director's office. He hadn't really counted the room as part of the game since few people ever entered it.

"What is it?" Finn said as he halted. Molly seemed excited, but she had appeared that way near every door they'd passed. This time it was different though. Her pointing was insistant and almost violent in nature.

Finn retraced his steps until he stood next to Molly and looked down at the improvised map over her shoulder.

There was no doubting her intent. First she pointed to the map, then to the door, and then to him and herself. Finn cocked his head to the side and took a step back, his eyes widened with disbelief. "You gots to be joking..."

Access was limited to the director, Mr. Barnelby, and the caretakers. Yet, even the caretakers required a direct invitation from the director himself. The mere thought of an orphan slipping into that holy space was despicable and sinful. Even the most rowdy teens among the ragtag assembly of orphans adhered to this sacred rule. No one...no one entered the director's office uninvited...

The rare, damned orphans that were called into the director's office were never to be seen again, only further fueling the mysticism that surrounded the place. Many wild rumours of what lay on the other end of the heavy wooden door existed, the most prevalent being that it was actually a torture room and that every so often, wicked children were sacrificed to some Immortal or another in an arcane ritual. While Finn doubted the truth of these rumours, he knew one thing for certain, if he was caught sneaking into the director's office, every cane in the house would be broken on his back, and then some. Even he, the most curious of all the boys and girls, hadn't so much as dared to peek through the keyhole.

As if that wasn't enough reason to stay well clear, Finn considered that the door was almost certainly locked. Contrary to popular opinion among the caretakers, Finn had little experience with lockpicking and had only nicked a key once before, and that had been at night, not in broad daylight.

He shook his head at Molly. "No way. No...I am not going to..."

Her gestures only became wilder.

"Look," Finn said as he bounded over toward the damned door. "We can't..." he seized the doorhandle, "cause it's locked!" he pushed down on the handle to demonstrate his point-

-The squeaky door gave way.

Finn's heart skipped a few beats as the door gently creaked open, allowing a brief waft of the air inside to tease his nostrils. It smelled of secrets...Finn looked to Molly, then to the door, and then to Molly again. "I...I thought it was locked..." he stuttered. At once he considered that it didn't ever need to be either, for all the orphans feared going in so much that no one would ever try to open it.

Until now.

For a trill he considered pulling the creaking door shut again. But how could he? A faint ray of light traced the floor between the door and the doorpost, tempting him to enter. The treasure chest had been opened, and beckoned them inside.

"I'm insane," he muttered under his breath as he pushed the door further open and motioned for Molly to join him inside. As soon as they were in, Finn shut the door behind them and turned the lock on the inside, making sure that no one else would interrupt them. The air inside was thick and muggy, as though time itself had crawled to a halt and staled it.

"Okay then..." he exhaled a ragged breath, as though he'd narrowly leapt across an abyss. "We're in..."

His eyes roved through the room. The most notable piece of furniture was the ornate and ancient looking mahogany desk that stood in the center of the room whilst a little light slipped past two velvet red curtains that masked the windows behind it. The left wall was occupied by a large bookshelf with drawers along the bottom row. Somewhat to his disappointment, he could not immediately spot any torture devices.

Then again, he didn't look to carefully, Molly was forgotten for a moment as Finn strutted over to the desk and started pulling open the various drawers. He quickly found what he sought and after a few trills of browsing fished out a fairly thick bundle of papers labeled "Finnegan O'Connor".

Careful to keep the papers in the same order he found them in, Finn let his eyes slide over the countless reports that had been written on him. He soon discovered that the papers were sorted by his age, with the latest files being on top. He also noticed that the recommendations against him got less desperate as he proceeded backward in time, and found that before his 9th arc, he hadn't been involved in much trouble at all and was instead greeted by several praising notes on his achievements and good spirit. Though the memories brought a smile too his face, it wasn't until he peeled back the very last paper that he truly smiled. There it was. At the very bottom of the pile. A vale, brown envelope reading:

"For Finnegan, when he has come of age."

He shivered as his fingers touched the old envelope that his mother had left with him. His sister had had one too, he knew, she had gotten hers when she'd left the orphanage and he had figured that his would have been kept safe in a secret place like this. As much as he wanted to read his mother's letter, he knew it'd be better if he saw himself out of the office first.

As he gathered his file and put it back in the drawer, his attention fell to Molly. "Wait..." he mumbled as he narrowed his eyes at the strange girl, "whaddaya want to get in for again?"

[Maltruism]

Molly wasted no time with looking smug when the door to the Director's office swung slowly open. Her eyes gleamed with intensity as she pushed past him to surge into the room, taking in all its features. Finn might have felt complemented, had he seen the satisfied look she cast over her shoulder at him when she heard him lock the door behind them. Her opinion of his common sense rose several increments as a result of this single gesture.

The fact that he went to the desk, was also treated as a logical move for one 'partner in crime' to take, thereby freeing up the other to investigate elsewhere. She gave only a cursory look at the contents of the bookcase. There was nothing of interest to her there. It was darker in the office than one might expect for mid-trial, the grime on the small, high window defeating the sun's attempt to provide illumination. But lighting a candle or lamp was clearly out of the question.

Besides, it was sufficient for Molly to get on hands and knees to check those spots where the wall paneling had little at it base, or mounted directly to it, for a span that might be wide enough to accommodate a hidden doorway. Sure enough, the second of three potential spots yielded a barely perceptible narrowing of some of the patterns of carved designs in the paneling. The molding at floor level also just happened to be cut there, and not as perfectly flush with the flooring as elsewhere.

The slight pushes she gave to both sides of this gap proved solid on the left, but curiously loose on the right. There was also a suspicious metallic rattle, that came from the other side of this wall panel, when she pushed it. She did not look away to see if Finn noted her excited tapping on the floor, but heard him rustling some papers at the desk before he joined her.

She showed him the spot at the base of the wall panel, uncertain if he understood what it was she'd found. Now she stood up, pressing on all the features of the designs carved into the wood. She grew quickly frustrated with the lack of results, but soon realized that adults at an orphanage would naturally have their secret doors accessed by buttons out of the reach of the children just for this very reason.

She moved to start dragging the desk chair over to the wall with Finn's help, and stood on the cushioned seat continuing to press the various squares and rectangles carved into the paneling. If Finn was saying anything suggesting that he didn't know what she was doing, his words fell on deaf ears. And his words would soon be silenced when a square near the ceiling depressed with a click.

Molly looked back down at him, her eyes alive with fevered excitement as she held the square pushed in and nodded to him. Just at that moment, heavy steps could be heard coming down the hall from the other side of the office' main door.

[Finnegan O'Connor]

Finn O'Connor

:: 15th Ashan, 717

Finn merely looked on sheepishly as Molly tapped the floor. Clearly something had her excited, but it frankly seemed to be her natural state of being. While Finn stuffed the envelope halfway into his pants and hid it under his shirt, Molly kept pointing towards the bookshelf. Uncaring whether she would take offense or not, Finn rolled his eyes. All of this would be so much easier if she just talked. "Calm yer tits, it's just a 'shelf," he grumbled at her. He had half a mind to grab her by the shoulder and drag her out of the room. Contrary to the strange, mute girl, he had no desire to linger in a forbidden, dimly-lit room. In fact, they'd have to get out fairly quick before lunch would start and the hallways would be flooded with the shrieks of hungry children. If anyone saw them leave the office...

He shuddered at the thought.

He was just about to wag his finger at her and tell her to come along at once when Molly pointed out a narrow gap between the bookshelf and the floor. With a sigh he lowered himself to a crouch and studied the wooden panel. Was she implying...? Something hidden in the bookshelf? Underneath it? His heart skipped a beat. Something secret? While he pondered about what would be small and flat enough to be hidden underneath the heavy woodwork, Molly kept pressing and pulling the books on the shelf. A few trills passed before Finn understood why, but by the time he did Molly had already moved over to grab the deskchair and was dragging it, rather loudly, towards him.

"Sssh!" Finn hissed furiously at her as he jumped up from his crouched position on the floor. With two large steps he closed the distance between them and yanked the chair from her hands. It was far heavier than it looked, but after a few steps of huffing and puffing he managed to carry it, quietly, over to the right spot.

"You think he's hiding something?" Finn whispered. Then his eyes widened as a creeping suspicion dawned on him. "It's got something to do with you...? With your voic-"

Footsteps sounded. Big, fat, impending footsteps, fast approaching...coming their way?

Finn swallowed hard and shot a panicked look at Molly who seemed more excited than ever. At once he pushed his full weight against the bookshelf, hoping against hope that he'd guessed what Molly had been onto correctly. If indeed the shelf was a door to some hidden space, he'd push it halfway open, far enough for them to slip through. Without warning he pulled at Molly's sleeve to get her off the chair and pointed at the door. "Keep pushing," he breathed. While there was no time to put back the chair, he couldn't leave it standing right in front of the secret entrance. It would give away their presence if he did. Instead, Finn mustered all his strenght as he tried to carry the chair into the secret room with him. At the very least it could delay whoever might be coming into the office, for the button that enabled the door mechanism would be out of reach. "Shut it, quick!" he told Molly as soon as he'd crossed over into the darkness of the hidden room. At the very last moment, his hand shot out toward hers and his nimble fingers intrerlocked with the girl's before he gave a nervous little squeeze, more to reassure himself than to comfort the mute girl beside him.

[Maltruism]

They found themselves in the short leg of a dark "L-shaped" passage, that turned its corner to reveal that the long leg was made up primarily of a long stairway down. There was a bit of grimy illumination through a high window, so this area was known to exist to the outside world. But it was doubtful that much notice was ever taken of it.

As soon as the adult voices began to argue in the office, Molly unhooked her fingers from Finn's, taking just an extra moment to smile up at him, and began rummaging through boxes in a corner. Finn may well have been too scared to help, fearing that the added noise would give them away. But there were two issues that would make that a moot point.

The first was that the mute girl would start in on a box that was exactly the same as those that commonly held file folders, and found what she was looking for very quickly. She was just in the process of trembling with excitement and making her way back to her partner in crime, to shoe him what she'd found, when the second issue became important.

Naturally, there had been immediate notice of the office chair's absence. The two adults, one of which sounded like the reasonably kind lady, Magge, began arguing over what on Idalos had happened to it. They both quickly accounted for their own innocence, she insisting she'd had no access to the office, he, a presently unrecognizable male, insisting that a break ago, he'd been in the office with Mr. Barnlesby, seen the chair, but had no reason to mess with it.

The second issue arose when, after hashing out various details to establish that there was no logical basis for it to be gone, the unknown male realized that Mr. Barnlesby may have used it to reach some of the ledger books on the high shelf in the storage hall. There was the immediate sound of keys and approaching footsteps.

Finn did not have to say anything, as the two children hurried down the stairs to find the door at the bottom, of course, locked. It was entirely possible that Finn may have begun praying, for lack of anything better to do. It was also possible that the man that was even now opening the door to the upper leg of the passage, would have no reason to look down the stairs.

Molly was not waiting to see. She pulled an oddly crinkled-looking hairpin from her dirty locks and crouched at the door to work on the lock. The voices of the adults were all too clear, with nothing but an open corner to step around, but as they both chuckled with confirmation of the "old man's" memory, they started dragging the chair back into the office.

The wait to hear the bookshelf door upstairs close and lock seemed to go on for several bits. But what was heard instead sent two hearts pounding in desperation, "Hey...are those footprints?...There in the dust on the floor...yeah they DO look recent...Why would Mr. B need to go down there?...Maybe it wasn't him...They're awful small...Wait here a tick." The voice of the male seemed more alarmed by it than Magge's.

Although the click of the lock releasing and being successfully turned was the sound of salvation, it was also louder then the two kids would have liked. The male voice shouted immediately as he came around the corner at the top of the stairs. "HEY! STOP! Magge, we've got runaways!" he snarled as he started down the stairs towards them.

[Finnegan O'Connor]

Finn O'Connor

:: 15th Ashan, 717

Finn answered her smile with a rare one of his own. Not the usual cocky smirk or grin, but a faint curling of his lips that betrayed genuine happiness and excitement. Though she hadn't said anything yet, Finn couldn't help but start to like her. She was fun to be around, though mildly insane. His smile soon vanished however as her hand slipped from his and, far more importantly, heavy footsteps entered the room. He listened so intensely to the adult voices that it took a while to notice where Molly had gone. Whatever she had been looking for, she seemed to have found it. Finn was about to look when the male voice expressed concern over footsteps in the dust. Without even thinking, Finn raced down the stairs and looked on in amazement as Molly started to pick the lock. "Hurry up!" He whispered under his breath, too frightened to ask how and why Molly had learned to pick locks. No sooner than the door unlocked did the bookshelf slide open once more...

Wide-eyed, Finn gawked up at their pursuer while Molly bolted. Unless the man was not one of the known caretakers, he would recognize him. Unfortunately, the inverse was equally true, and Finn hadn't the wherewithal to spin and turn on his heels fast enough. Terrified, he remained frozen to the spot, like a mouse about to be devoured by some ferocious cat. Indeed, it was only when the man's outstretched arm grazed his lower arm and raked over his skin that he mustered the wits to move. With a yelp he leapt forward and slipped through the door. Once on the other side, he threw his inconsiderable weight against it and trapped the man's foot between the door. Within mere ticks his arms grew heavy and tired as he tried to keep the door shut. The force with which their pursuer pushed was overwhelming and the soles of his shoes skidded and scraped over the ground as he was relentlessly pushed back. It was hopeless...

In the very same instant that the weight of his predicament crashed down on him, so did the door, and so did his luck. As he stepped aside, all resistance fell away and so the man, who seemed to have been pushing with all his strength, would be sent flying forward.

It was in this chaos of limbs and curses that Finn hesitated no longer. At once he chased after the first glimpse he caught of Molly's hair, and into the unknown. "Wait for me!" He cried, unwittingly revealing his voice to those that might recognize it. He thought he felt a hand grasp at his ankle, but didn't pay it too much mind. While he chased after Molly, he kept his eyes wide open for a good spot to hide, should he manage to shake of the pursuers.