Private Finished The Bird-Men and Bee-Girls

Finch did not, by the metrics of the island, look very human. Even if he was, in fact, fully human, few people would mistake him for one. His size was off, the shape of his body was off, and all those messy details.

What really mattered was that, for all his appearance issues, he had a fairly human mindset, and that was enough for him to have a fairly good idea of the connotations of Regina getting caught with an older student.

Maybe caught was the wrong word. It had implications. Found might be better.

Finch peeked his head in the door when she beckoned him in, his mask firmly in place as usual. There was no birds riding his shoulders on that particular day, which was a fairly common sign around the floor, but he had a hard time keeping things serious with birds whispering in his ear.

"Regina?" He called out, not coming too far into the small room. "We should probably talk about what happened."

Finch made his way around to the desk chair, clambering up. Even Regina's short height meant the chair was a bit too tall for him to simply sit on, and it took a bit of doing to get himself actually seated. He didn't look as short as normal when he was sitting down, because the chair meant there was only so much hunching one could do.

"You are upset," Finch observed, with all the subtlety of an anvil dropping. "Did anyone else talk to you about this yet?"

It was a damned good thing that Finch hadn't just been dropped into things without any sort of lessons, or he'd have drowned then and there. No, the school had made sure he got some sort of training, even if it was spotty and kind of patchwork. He'd gone for classes that covered the most important bits, and he still was going for classes to make sure he was as qualified in handling his dorm children as he was in handling his chemistry classes.

"You aren't," Finch said. "Even if the janitor was upset. You're under age, and the other student should have known better than to do what he was doing with you."

Finch's voice was just as croaky as ever, even if he was making an active effort to make himself appear more serious, his one hand resting on his knee.

Finch ruffled his cloak in a manner highly reminiscent of a bird ruffling their feathers, resettling himself on the seat as he tried to process Regina's answer. No, he should have known this was coming. This was normal. Hadn't this been part of the lesson? Yes, yes it had. People often blamed themselves.

"Why do you think it's your fault?" He said. That was what they'd said to do, and he was still, at least for the moment, operating very loosely off the script they'd given him for this sort of situation.

The frustration was obvious, even to someone as super fucking oblivious as Finch. Maybe a professional should have been sitting down with her, but a professional wouldn't have the relationship they had.

"But he still decided," Finch said. "Even knowing he shouldn't have been doing it. He shouldn't have been doing that with you. He was old enough to know better, even if another student encouraged him to do it."

Finch made a noise that was a lot like warbly coo.

"As they say, 'would you jump off a bridge if someone told you to'?"