[indent][h2][b][i]L o r d   F i n n e g a n   O a k[/i][/b] 𝓼[/h2][/indent]


[indent]The news was unfortunate for a birthday party. No further explanation was needed to understand why the the honorable Corporal Olivia Osborne had looked so wilted upon greeting her guests. Finnegan had a hand leaning on the back of a richly upholstered chair with finished woodwork. Evelyn was resting in the chair in all her feverish disposition. There may have been an embarrassing undertone, and if Finnegan was feeling so compelled by the invitation of the news to remain in the vicinity, he would have left, not just for business' sake. However, Evelyn was lovely enough in her youthful glow to continue at least something cherished as a good decorative throw pillow for the chair. The evening was most certainly a long night, and as much as Finnegan was looking forward to the interesting parts, he was starting to expect this whole situation was going to be of a lot more than he expected.

“As usual,” his finger tapped against the fabric of the chair, tracing lightly the silk embroidery, and then his hand retreated to his side and tucked into his pocket, to fiddle with something or another — probably a trinket or gadget of his own mischievous devise.  The gesture was also done with more precision than needed as he was only playing with a something that he would not be needing at this present moment in time, “A surprise for all the guests!” He said with a small smirk and looked down at dear Evelyn who seemed quite tired, “You poor thing, though,” he coaxed her with more words, feigned with politeness and all the etiquette of a man who was intrigued in her well-being but also imploring an urgency of them staying for just a fair bit longer. All while, she tried to scramble in his own head, missed calculations of chemical formulas aside, the whereabouts of the missing persons. 

	[i][color=teal]“If he were willing, Walter would have had delight in some of this.”[/color]
		[color=silver]Finnegan thought to himself during the prospective and hypothetical cases conjuring in his mind.[/color][/i]

Such tragedy for Evelyn to have taken the fun from Walter. He should have known better, but Finnegan knew himself to not be perfect and let the incident slide, “I must ask you to excuse me for just a moment,” he patiently waited for Evelyn's response, which was nothing less than a bashful smile that resulted in a her pale face managing the innocent blush he admired far too often in the past week for it's charm to sway his self-restraint in any shape outside of formalities. With her respected acknowledgement, he left her for several measures to keep Evelyn from the spotlight and to add his own partaking in the matter, alongside Lady Alyssana.

With his chin raised and his usual air of gentlemanly debauchery, he raised his voice to announce his own question, “Remind me again as to why it has taken so long for this news to be made to us? I must have missed that part. Forgive me,” his own selfish wit played through of introspecting the answer. Although, he thought perhaps it was the appearance of the reported missing lady with the likeness of Miss Shoreditch, who was someone to strike anyone's fancy, even his own, but it was a little bit too boyish of a thought to use in something that seemed much more serious than a silly romantic mystery contrived on the stage in the theaters. Then again, maybe it was the timing of the whole ordeal. Finnegan could never be too sure in these matters. They were generally so disorganized that they were adjacent to ballrooms with lousy lighting, which he would never have found himself attending unless of course, he was unassumingly invited and therefore, had all the nature in himself to ask unassuming questions. Since such was the case, he had made use of his own dullness, and not the one sitting promptly in the chair a little ways from him.[/indent]