Myung
Finley had a few ways of dealing with stress.

They had often been predisposed to what was officially referred to as 'alternative, unhealthy' (among other buzzwords) coping methods. They'd dabbled in it since childhood, a penchant for lighting a match and tossing it onto a pile of discarded things. Most often, they'd burned trash in a rubbish metal bin, staring down at the flames until their eyes stung from smoke and light. 

They'd been first hauled off to juvenile court at 13, something about an old, abandoned car going up in smoke. Then again at 14, 15, 16, much to their mother's growing aggravation. Nadia had once put them in a chokehold and threatened to keep them there until they turned blue if they kept up the little habit. 

But, nothing carved into stone fades quickly, and when the school's theatre tech-booth had erupted in flames, all fingers turned to a precarious ballet dancer with a wobbly ankle. 


And from there, it had eased. Just a bit. Just a touch. They had plenty of friends, plenty of work to do, they'd helped to start a band. Between mastering the lightning in their hands, the drums clashing together, and the glowing boy who kept their hands oddly interlaced, Finley had plenty to do. 

But Valio was in the hospital, she'd almost died. She was one of their closest friends. The itching spread up the backs of Finley's arms, twitching their fingers like a live wire. They picked up a box of matches from a store in Isakstad, and set a few rules for themself. 

It'd have to be small. Nothing big, or the faculty would quickly see it. It'd have to be just at the edge of campus - other students couldn't be poking their noses around, either. Something controlled, small, just enough to take off the edge - like baking a little cake, like their mother's pastries. Finley agreed with themself, and found themself, now, in the very edge of the woods, with a little metal bin, a roaring flame dancing high, and proud.

Their eyes glittered with the excitement.
Kenneth
Mamoru also doesn't have healthy coping mechanisms, but also. He's not an *Arsonist.* So he has that going for him. 

Unlike someone. 

One of his healthier ones is just walking around the campus outdoors. The fresh air helps, at least it should help. He gets a stuffy, itchy feeling if he stays in one place for too long. He tended to ignore and mask that feeling in the past, but it ended up just making things worse. And it takes longer to get rid of. 

He's never been to the woods. Moru isn't the hugest fan of the wilderness. It's always been an unknown. He doesn't like the unknown. He likes certainty. 

He sees something near the woods, though, and against his better judgement he goes to investigate. 


That's a fire. And a Finley. Mostly a fire though. 

Yeah no Mamoru is approaching that. A bin fire in an area near trees?? That could be dangerous. His pessimistic worse case scenario mind knows no chill. 

"Er- excuse me- are you sure you should be *Doing* That..?" It comes out awkward. Because he's never spoken to this person.
Myung
The smoke rose up around Fin's face, and they waved a hand to clear it as they squinted, taking stock of who exactly had *Unfortunately* Stumbled across them in the wild. Moru, perhaps? They've never spoken to him outside of the intranet. It *Could* Be him, or could not be, but how unfortunate, the lad who ultimately despises the person Finn considers closest is the one to spot them.

"Should, or shouldn't?" They asked, a little amusement playing into their voice. "Don't worry about this one - it's perfectly controlled. You're welcome to stand here if you'd like."

Finley spotted him as he came closer. He *Did* Look familiar, though. 

"I'm Finn."

No handshake, in fact, Finley kept their hands out in front of the flames, warming them up, and only passing a glance to Moru every few moments or so. Their focus on the fire in front of them was (almost) wholly in tact. Besides, they thought, it was cold in Sweden, colder this evening, and who should be the one to tell them they couldn't keep warm? Certainly not this *Connard.*
Kenneth
It is indeed Moru! You could tell by how much of a buzzkill he is (/hj). It's not like Mamoru dislikes Fin. He doesn't have an opinion of them yet, and isn't entirely aware that this *Is* Them. He just sees Ares as an enemy. 

Despite his better judgement, he does come closer to stand by the fire. Just to look. He expected it to smell awful since it's a bin fire, but Fin didn't just light up trash, so it's fine. Not horrendous. Neat.

"Okay.. Yeah, I guess it is pretty controlled." *But it's still probably against the rules.*

"Mamoru." He responds for his name.
Okay, this is Fin.
Friend of Ares and Owen, they have a band he thinks? Fin seemed pretty chill, except for the multiple times they set the *Kitchen on fire.* So *Maybe* Letting this continue may not be the best idea. 

He also stares mostly at the fire, but trying to rationalize this. Yes, it's cold, but Finley moderating a fire is a bad idea. If Moru recalls correctly, weren't they in here for *Arson?* 

"Couldn't you get in trouble for doing this, though?"
Myung
Ah, they were right. It was indeed Mamoru - or, Moru, as he portrayed online. Fin rubbed their frigid hands together and put them back in front of the joyous, dancing oranges and yellows.

"You seem surprised," They said. 

Finley finally looked up at their new companion. Pink tinted their ears from the cold wind billowing through the forest. A few leaves fell into the bin, and quickly caught fire. 

"Can't be more trouble than I'm already in for - besides, unless you say anything, who's to know?" 

They tilted their head, staring straight at Moru with a face that had become devoid of expression.

"And you won't do that, will you?"
Kenneth
"Surprised? Not.. Not exactly." Well. Surprised is *True.* Just not *That* Surprised.

He notices his hands getting cold as well, so he hesitantly puts them forward. He's scared to put them too close, he doesn't want to get burnt by accident.

His hair is tied up in a low ponytail. Sometimes it's too annoying to keep down.

He takes a small step back when the falling leaves catch fire. 
They startle him a little, when it really is the slightest bit pretty.

Moru looks at Fin in that moment, and their expression makes him freeze up. The nervousness is clear.
He hesitates, but nods. "Right- yeah. I won't tell." 

He hates how much of a coward he can be. Finley won't *Hurt* Him. So why is he so nervous? It's not the Ares connection, that didn't change how he was willing to talk to Owen. And the only nervousness there was that he was going to be a third wheel. Everything else was fine.

It must be the empty expression. It could be hiding *Anything.* And the word *Anything* Can be terrifying.
Myung
A little hum tilted Fins voice up in their throat of agreement, before they suddenly fell quiet again, their gaze resting content on the fire.

For a moment, that's all there was in the forest - the sound of late night birds, the leaves crackling, perhaps the light ambience of traffic from somewhere beyond campus. 

"I set a house on fire once."

Their voice sat flat on the wind, matching their expression. Sparks flitted between their fingers, a seemingly natural side effect of their powers that (helped) land them here in the first place. 

"The whole frame fell in."
Kenneth
*Okay*, yeah no Fin is creeping Mamoru out. He takes a small step away from them. He flinches as an owl hoots.

He falls silent for a moment, before speaking.
"*Oh.*" He says finally. 
*Is that all I can say? Oh?*

"Er- like on purpose?"
He knows that he sounds like a wuss. He just really hopes it was an accident. 
Their voice is flat, their expression is flat, and it's the most unnerved Moru has been in a while. 

His eyes are drawn to the sparks. *How easily could they hurt me? I mean- they probably wouldn't. But it would be so easy.*
Myung
A laugh broke up Finleys face, a crackled, hearty laugh that had them wheezing and bending over. They rightened, blowing their hair from their face, letting out a sigh. 

As soon as the sigh left their lips, their face fell slack and an unblinking blue stare bore into his face.

"You're hilarious, Mamoru. Really." 

Finley reached into their pocket and pulled out a matchbook, spinning it around in their hands. They pulled one out, and struck it against a nearby tree. A small handful of sparks flew off, and the little match burst into light. 

Finley held it up just in front of their face, staring at Moru. Their entire face cast in concave, shaped shadows, unyielding, stark.

"Don't look so scared. Do you think I'll burn you?"

They flicked the lit match at Moru's feet. The dying brown grass sparked immediately, erupting. 

Fin let it spread for just, just long enough, before they stomped it out under their boots. 

"Some things burn so easily."
Kenneth
Ooooh the laugh only made his nerves *Worse*. The immediate drop. 

"I- it's kinda cold I may go inside-" But then Fin strikes a match. 

They are genuinely terrifying him. His brows knit together. He had no idea this is what Fin was like in person. They seemed decently light hearted and chill, not *This.* 

The match falls at his feet, and he yelps, taking a few quick steps back and tripping over himself, falling onto his butt. Ow. 

"Y-yeah. Some things- theyyy sure do. Uhm- have fun. I'm going to go back inside now." He quickly stands up, brushing dirt and dead leaves off his jacket. *It* Would burn easily. 

He looks back at Fin, a little wide eyed.
Myung
"Au revoir."

They gestured back towards campus. The buildings loomed in the distance, moonlight spreading over the rooftops and trees. The single fallen match could be seen among a patch of burnt grass, just at Morus feet.

"Bonne chance, my friend." 

All attention dropped from Mamoru. They stood stock still, like an animatronic who had been unplugged.
Kenneth
*Okay yeah okay okay sure yeah-*

His mind is a string of panic. He's getting out of here.

He licks his lips nervously. Moru nods, and quickly turns, speedwalking back to the indoors. He can't get out of here soon enough. He doesn't want to be here anymore. 

There's something.. *Wrong* With Finley. Something *Incorrect*.