Dear God, Give Me Courage, for Perhaps I Lack It More Than Anything Else

[collaronhisneck]

WHO: Father Francis Mulcahy and others
WHERE: Various, check starters
WHEN: September 2nd through 4th
OPEN TO: Everyone, but only the last prompt will be an open in full. The rest are first come, first served in order to prevent Topic Fatigue.
WARNINGS: None so far; mentions of wartime problems may come up

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( fountain, September 2, open to Major )

Considering he'd gone to sleep in his normal rickety cot, the familiar sounds of an April night outside Uijongbu drifting through the lashed-down sides of his tent, the rumble of engines passing by on the road in the distance...

Well, the last thing he expected to wake up to was water.

Jolting awake with the sudden plunge and the screaming lack of air, instinct kicks in just like his feet, and Mulcahy surges in the direction he hopes is upwards, towards light and away from the darkness, a stray thought passing through his mind that he hopes he's not heading for The Light just yet. There's so much left to do, after all. The coughing starts when he founders into the early morning light, because he'd managed to swallow some of the water before he surfaced, though fortunately it seems to be coming out fairly easily. What he doesn't realize right away is that his glasses seem to have disappeared; he's more concerned with catching the rim of the fountain and clinging to it while he spits up the water that invaded his esophagus. Not the most comfortable of welcomes, this.

( inn, September 2, open to two closed )

Recovered, more or less dry, glasses firmly in place, pack still on his back, and more befuddled than he'd ever been in his life (which is saying something, considering some of the shenanigans he's witnessed), Mulcahy has managed to make it to the inn in time for the noon meal. He's still not certain he's not hallucinating all of this, but it hurts when he pinches his arm and everything feels reassuringly solid, the grain of the wood a noticable texture under his fingertips, the air warmer than he's expecting and with almost a sleight weight to it. At the very least, he's certain this isn't a dream, and the rumbling in his stomach seems to reinforce that idea.

If he isn't waylaid, he's going to approach the first person he sees that isn't occupied with something else, smile warmly and a little nervously at them, and ask the first relevant question that comes to mind. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but I was told I could find something to eat here - how does that work, exactly? I don't seem to have any money, but I don't mind lending a hand if it's needed."

( hospital, September 3, open to two )

The hospital isn't at all like the ones he's seen and especially not like the one he knows best, but in his quest to learn the village the building had easily drawn his eye since it was so close to the inn and he'd decided to explore. The 4077 is a temporary camp - it's a mobile surgical unit, after all - so a structure this solid is a change by itself, not to mention the age. The village reminds him so much of some older places he's seen throughout New England and Europe it's uncanny, and in many ways it's similar to several villages in Korea as well, although those similarities aren't so happy. Run down and the upkeep not kept up with, people living day to day and just trying to survive - it's no surprise that a lot of the buildings seem a little shabby, a few into actual disrepair. The hospital looks better than many, which encourages him - it means people are doing their part to keep up areas that may be needed. It's a good sign of a community pulling together.

Still, he's not about to go poking around in places he may not be wanted, so Mulcahy sticks to the hallways and carefully peers in any doors before he enters a room, in case he's about to disturb any patients. He's fairly sure there aren't any there, but better safe than sorry, and he'd like to see if there's any staff so he can volunteer his services should they be needed.

( church, September 4, open to any )

The makeshift cross outside the building had drawn him like a needle to a magnet when he'd spotted it, and while the structure is obviously a house that's been repurposed, Mulcahy can't deny feeling more at peace at the sight. Obviously someone's felt the separation from their congregation much as he has, and apparently for quite awhile if there's been steps taken to convert a dwelling. He stops in the road outside the building, head bowed and hands folded in front of him for several seconds as he silently prays, and then releases a deep breath before climbing the steps to the porch and opening the door. Seeing what needs to be done will be a good way to keep busy, and perhaps he can find some way to help or prepare for a dedication. He's no Bishop, but there seem to be a lack of them in the area, which leads to a distinct possibility of "winging it."

Comments

CHURCH!

[babyhunter]

Clary wasn't overly religious but she knew that if there were Shadowhunter weapons here they'd be somewhere hidden in the church. After the first hour of searching through the building and around the outside she gave up and took up a seat near the altar. It was fairly sparse for a church though Clary was used to the ornate New York City churches that were built around the time when everyone spend their Sunday morning between its hallow walls.

She pulled her sketchbook into her lap and began to draw. It started out as a boy with angel wings. Then she drew seconds of a church, building it from something simple to something more ornate. The affect ended up moving from right to left across the page where the simple church shifted into something more detailed and less broken down.

Clary's head snapped up when she heard someone stepping inside of the front doors. "Oh, sorry." She assumed that she was trespassing or something.

[collaronhisneck]

"No, my child, don't be sorry." The voice is gentle and even soothing, and the speaker is smiling a little as he comes in and shuts the door behind him. "A church is supposed to be a place for reflection and contemplation, no matter what sort of architecture the building is using." A church in a house isn't all that new to him, actually; plenty of people he's known over the course of his life have had small sort-of altars, more like shrines, in their homes to better enable them to feel the Holy Spirit. Mulcahy is rapidly coming to the conclusion that this village is no more Catholic than the 4077 is, and quite possibly much less Christian in general, but a church is still a place for peace and communion with God, whatever form a person chose to believe He took.

"I won't disturb you; I just wanted to take a look around and see what had been done to help turn this house into a House of God, if anything. You go ahead and draw - creation is good in times of confusion." Still with that same smile, Mulcahy gave Clary a quick nod before he started into the next room to look that over.

[babyhunter]

A month ago, Clary wouldn't have said she believed in God but since then she's learned about angels and demons and the endless war that consumed the two sides. Perhaps there was a God, if there are angels, but Clary had never met him and she wondered... if there was a God, would he let people like her father go unchecked?

She swallowed, feeling a bit of discomfort settle in the pit of her stomach.

"Not many come here. I was just looking for quiet." Not exactly religion or anything else. What had Jace said to her, 'any church and any religion would offer help to a Shadowhunter who needed it'

She had been hoping that was true here too.

[collaronhisneck]

"It seems to be a good place for quiet," he offers in a casual tone. She seems a bit... ill at ease, but he's no Sidney, to always know when someone's hiding something they don't want others to see, or don't even want to see themselves. His personal senses are good, but not that good. But he's also made far too many missteps of his own to not know not to push for any answers, and instead approaches it in a more sideways direction, since he's more wanting to put her at ease than anything else. In a village of this size and this sufficiency level, someone feeling 'out of whack' could be a bigger problem than they needed. "Close enough to the center of town that you're close to other people, but far away enough to let you have some distance if you need it."

Kind of his ideal set up, actually. Growing up in a crowded city with a large number of siblings during the Depression meant that everything was tighter and more strained than was really good for people, and as a result Mulcahy has come to value his space and privacy. Perhaps he really will just stay here, if no one has any objections, considering this can still function as a proper house.

"If you'd like me to leave, though, I can do that and come back later."

[babyhunter]

Clary shook her head. "You're fine." She began to gather her things together to head out. She didn't want to be in the way and she hadn't known that anyone wanted to use the church as a... church.

"Did you just arrive? I don't remember seeing you around before now." She didn't go out of her way to see new people but she stayed at the inn and saw the people own came and went.

Vibrant emerald green eyes looked up at the man curiously.

[collaronhisneck]

"A very few days ago, yes. Only two. I suspect I'm not the first to say this, but arriving here really was a shock I wasn't prepared for." The world he lives in is entirely normal - he's not heard of any of Clary's shadowhunters, or has ever seen a true angel, or any of the other myriad differences that other members of the village know all too well. Things such as instant travel and submersion without drowning are entirely beyond his comprehension, at least for now.

"You don't have to leave either, this is a communal space. Really, all I want to do for the moment is look around. I can pray anywhere, after all." The small smile Clary gets is genuine, almost asking her to share a joke. But Mulcahy means what he says: if she's not going to ask him to leave, he won't ask her to leave.

[babyhunter]

Clary hesitated as if she wasn't sure what to do. She could keep drawing but it wasn't the same with someone else around. She also didn't want him to think that she was leaving just because of him. It would be true but it was still kinda mean.

"Thanks." A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Do you really think that god is here somewhere?"

From what she knew about the canyon, she didn't feel like he was.

[collaronhisneck]

That question is one he always has a genuine answer for - "yes" - but after two and a half years in the army, he understands why so many people don't often feel the presence of the Lord. How can a kind and loving God exist, after all, in a war zone where men are torn apart like wet tissue paper and left to die on fields that had once held growing crops but now only grew blood and body parts? And this village isn't nearly as violent, isn't violent at all as far as he's seen, but it does feel closed off, isolated in every sense of the word, and it's not just because of the lack of communication of any form. There's a feeling he's noticed that this village seems to be the last bastion of humanity, as if the rest of the world around them was empty. There's a silence here that he can't ignore.

So Clary's question doesn't get his automatic response. Instead, he pauses, face settling into contemplation as all of those thoughts race through his mind in only a few seconds, before he meets her gaze with quiet certainty. "Yes, I do. If I look out the window, I see the trees, the birds, the clouds - all proof of His hand in our world. Some things He creates are sent to test us, to make us stronger, and by keeping faith and extending our hands to each other we will come through the trials hardened and tempered. It may feel hopeless at times, but He always has a plan."

[babyhunter]

Clary's bright emerald green eyes turned to look out the window. She was trying so hard to see the world as he saw it but she couldn't. Yes, there were trees and birds and clouds but she had seen other things too. Not just the darkness in humanity but monsters, demons and other unspeakable horrors. Clary has seen the sorts of things that were reserved for B rated horror movies; not real life.

"One time..." She began, hoping that she was vague enough for this to be okay to share. "I met a warrior of god. In the literal sense. He was an angel that was born with the soul purpose to fight demons. I asked him, do you believe in god?" She paused and looked down at the cover of her sketchbook. "He said no. He was a decent of the nephilim but he didn't believe that there was a god. He fought for god. He stopped the demons from invading the world but... he didn't believe."

Jace.

It made it hard to know what to believe.

[collaronhisneck]

He'd always seen the world in this way; anyone asking how he'd come to join the priesthood, why he'd made the decisions he'd made, would receive some variation on I was called. From a very young age, he'd always heard the voice of God in his ear, and while he'd not always known he'd one day become a priest, he'd still be very young when he'd first considered the idea. Perhaps growing up during the Depression had had some sort of influence on his calling, Mulcahy didn't know, but he would forever hold the world as a reflection of God's light and love, even in its darkest moments.

Still, what's Clary's saying takes him aback. He's always believed in God, but... a warrior of God? A literal angel? A- "I beg your pardon, but... You say you met an angel? A descendant of the nephilim?" His is a faith, that you have without material proof. And here Clary speaks of it in tones of such... normality. It's enough to throw anyone for a loop, and it sure does him.

[babyhunter]

Clary bit her lower lip before nodding. She wondered if her reaction had been similar. Maybe, except that her introduction to the Shadowhunter world had involved an attack and a rune being burned into her skin. Her fingers rose to her neck to trace the circles that marked her skin.

"Yeah. He said he had never seen god but churches of all religions would provide statuary for the nephilim. All you had to do was knock at it's doors." That was what brought her here, she had said the oath of the angel but she had gotten nothing in reply.

"I wonder if he's really here." She paused. "God."