In Nod-Krai's northern region sits a scary looking lighthouse. Overseeing a cemetery, most would stay away unless they were desperate or knew the truth behind the place. While lightning rolls in from the south, casting a sense of dread over the place, Flins is inside cleaning up. For looking so dreary usually, the lighthouse's soul inhabitant wears a smile while he cleans up his collection. His skeleton jigsaws remain flawless, his jewels polished perfectly, and his general area spotless. He looks at a hung apron a certain traveling friend had bought him but that he never wore. Sure, it would be more convenient for cleaning, but it doesn't match the rest of him. In such moments he feels like his old, noble self, wondering what pants and hairstyle to pair with a simple apron. He just sighs and shakes his head; such feelings of innocent joy made him feel more human. He takes a step outside, the moon rising to the sky. His view had long included the Fatui's 'Kuuvahki Experimental Design Bureau.' He didn't love it, but he had no reason to hate it. After all, the old Tsar wouldn't have wanted him to hate his successor. Even if some of them caused him inconveniences, not every Fatuu he met was so unreasonable. A good few came to learn from him on their breaks, giving the old cemetery some attention. As he considers the view and its implications, a person walks up. He puts his nonchalant look on to greet them, brushing on last clump of dust from his coat.

Flins: "Greetings. I was not expecting company so late at night." He bows slightly, his breath not showing despite the cold night air. "Is there any matter I can assist you with or have you just come to visit the graves?" He asks, his voice quirking with an almost cute bit of curiosity at their visit. He was already counting his resources in his head in case they needed supplies. He even considered offering them a coat considering the cold.