#FINCH & MUNINN┊THREAD 03; WHAT'S IN A NAME ? ( chaosveined )

[fatherofmachine-a]

@chaosveined​ |▸PLOTTED STARTER

❛ Find my name,  &  perhaps I’ll come.  Call it out  &  perhaps I’ll find you.  It might be a fun game.  & you certainly seem the type to try,  the type to try,  the type to try.  Consider it my DARE to you. ❜  

-

Harold had NEVER been very good at backing down from a challenge,  let alone a DARE.  The way she’d crafted the words made it sound like MANY had tried  &  failed  to find the folklore,  the MYTHOLOGY that had been crafted in order to describe who she was—–it took him,  roughly,  about a MONTH,  perhaps a month  &  a half of searching  before he finally found it.  He’d scoured the digital realm for it,  initially,  DESPITE his doubt of it residing there.  When he’d found nothing,  he INSTEAD turned to libraries,  shops,  a museum or two,  all of the places he knew to check when he couldn’t  find what he needed on computers.  

EVENTUALLY,  he did  find it.

It was an ANCIENT scroll,  inked words now faded  written upon fragile,  crinkled papyrus—–it was written ENTIRELY in the runic alphabet.  Albeit,  some  of the runes weren’t as recognizable,  the symbols containing a slight deviation that Harold had never seen before.  Harold WAS NOT overly knowledgeable about Old Norse,  but he could absolutely tell that it was .... STRANGE,  unusual.  

It took days  for him to make ANY kind of sense out of the writing  &  even then,  it was only bits  &  pieces.  Luminescent gaze LINGERED upon a word—–no,  it was a name  &  with this realization,  the pieces came together seamlessly.  Everything he’d learned about her during their ENCOUNTER swarmed the name itself,  blending into it  &  he knew  with absolute certainty that THIS was it.  No other name that he’d even considered  during his search fit,  not like this one.

The next evening,  once he  &  John had finished  with saving another number (  &  while John was engaged with tying up loose ends with Detective Fusco ),  the scroll had caught his eye,  having been CAREFULLY laid out atop his desk.  He’d made a space  for it specifically where it WOULDN’T be disturbed or touched until it was the right moment.  Taking the time to mute  his earpiece so that he COULDN’T be overheard,  he glanced around the room at what he could see without   moving head  &  shoulders.  He seemed to hesitate,  if only for a few seconds.

 ❝ Muninn, ❞

Harold spoke it ALOUD as she’d suggested,  his voice lifting  into the silence around him with an air of confidence.  Remaining seated within his desk chair,  he waited,  listening.