Great. I'm digging myself into a truly collosal hole here. Where's an industrial tunneler when you need one.
Finn chewed his lip agitatedly for a few moments, trying to decide what to say. Should he lie again? Try and get himself out of this mess and then find a way out of this madhouse? Or perhaps tell the truth and earn himself an ally?
Either that or get himself killed. Which, at this point, seemed far more likely.
Finn groaned. No, lying wasn't an option any more. He'd run out of escape routes, time to bite the bullet and come out with it.
"It's a bit complicated, but yeah, I am in trouble. And I mean big trouble. Let's just say that my... activities, have made me quite a few enemies. Most of whom now want nothing more than to remove my lungs with a pair of pliers. These people, if you can call them that, got onto me a while ago. They heard of my... skills, and decided that I'd make a good edition to their team. And I didn't really have a choice about it. When I refused, and caused a good deal of trouble for them doing it, they decided that the stuff I'd learnt made me a danger. So basically I'm Enemy Number One for them. They've been tracking me for weeks now, and they've got pretty close to catching me a few times."
Finn held up his wrist and grimaced, "This happened the last time. It was one of the closest shaves I've ever had. So yeah, I'm freaked out. I can't trust anyone, they could easily work for them. With all the strangeness going on here, I'm just going skitsy. But yeah, that's my life in pictures. And it ain't pretty."
With that, Finn gave an exasperated groan and slumped back against the wall: "Not that any of that would interest you. You go get your injuries sorted, go on."
Yeah, I'll just stand here and have a meltdown.