ψ compass point you home | CLOSED

[fishermansweater]

WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: The church, 6I
WHEN: Early October
OPEN TO: Francis Mulcahy
WARNINGS: None so far

---

Finnick doesn't know what to expect from the church. He knows the house, of course, blocky and solid with columns supporting the porch roof and a t-shaped emblem on the door. He's never been inside before, though he's stopped to observe the house plenty of times in the past as he made his rounds of the village for information.

Today, though, he heads up the porch and inside, stepping through into something he'd expect to be a lounge room, or something like it, but it's not: it clearly looks set up for people to listen to someone talking at the front of the room. Finnick's still not sure just what is supposed to happen here, despite Kate Kelly's explanations. Church, temple, God, these were all new concepts to him when he'd asked her, but he'd gathered enough to know that Father Mulcahy can often be found here because he's a priest.

Finnick steps further into the room, looking around, but he doesn't see anyone, so he calls out.

"Hello? Father?"

Comments

[collaronhisneck]

It's not just "often" anymore. A few days after he'd arrived, once he'd done a little investigating and found out no one minded, Mulcahy had moved into the church himself. It was the only place in the village where he'd truly felt the spirit of God since he'd arrived, and he very much wanted to stay in that place where it was strongest. Maybe it wasn't technically allowed according to strict teachings, for him to live in the church, but considering this village had no "real" church it didn't seem all that wrong to him.

"Just a moment!" a voice responds from the back at the call. Not a deep voice at all, not commanding, but clearly someone used to projecting. It's only a few minutes before there's sounds of movement from the back of the house, a door opening, and a few footsteps before the door into the dining room swings open and Mulcahy comes through, smiling. "Forgive me - I was completing my prayers, and I didn't want to forget my place." Finnick might notice a chain swinging from his hand with a small cross on the end, the rosary he'd found left on one of the chairs in the "hall" one day. "Is there something I can help you with?"

[fishermansweater]

Finnick's good at pretending confidence when he doesn't really feel it: his training with the Careers had refined a natural cockiness, and he'd turned it into a survival skill in the Capitol. Since he's found himself here, he's had to step into the role of Annie's protector and defender, the one ready to fight if anything went wrong. As a result, there's little sign of his uncertainty about this place and what to expect from it in Finnick's stance, and his expression is a little more curious than wary.

He makes little pretense at disguising the fact that he's sizing the man up, though, running what he sees against what Kate Kelly had told him. The details match in physical description at least, though it remains to see whether the rest of what she'd said about him was right.

"I hope so," Finnick says, trying for disarming with one of the smiles so beloved in Panem. He'd dressed nicely today, in the pants and shirt from the red suit he'd been given, and the effect is mostly presentable. "I don't really know much about what a priest does, but Kate Kelly said you might be able to do a wedding."

[collaronhisneck]

Compared to Finnick, Mulcahy is absolutely an open book. He has no talent for deception or subterfuge, and only manages pretense because he has the ability to be very careful about what he doesn't say compared to what he does and lets people draw their own conclusions (it's sometimes amazing to him what people are willing to think he's doing when he just doesn't fill in the blanks). The political conniving, the suspicion Finnick lives with day to day, none of that is comfortable for him, and Finnick will undoubtedly be able to tell that as the priest's face brightens in surprise and gladness at the news that someone wants to get married.

"Congratulations, my son, congratulations!" He sets the rosary down on the little table that's been designated as the makeshift altar as he crosses the room, reaching forward to shake Finnick's hand as he beams. Weddings are much, much preferable to funerals, and he's performed far too many Last Rites than marriages. It's a small thing in this village, where everything seems to be designed to test them, but someone finding life and love should be cherished. "Yes, I've performed a few in the past, and I'm happy to answer any questions you and your fiancée have, whenever you'd like to have it. I should remind you, though, that since we don't have much of a government here it won't be legally binding, but I can certainly perform the ceremony. When would you like to have it done?"

[fishermansweater]

Finnick isn't expecting the sheer delight that shines across the man's face at the mention of a wedding. Perhaps it's too long spent knowing that his only place to most people is as a personification of the Games and all they mean: fear and loss or excitement and fame depending on whether someone is from the districts or the Capitol. He's still not used to being more than that symbol to strangers, so Mulcahy's obvious delight slips past his guard, making him grin too, and shake the offered hand.

"That's fine. It's binding enough for us, we wouldn't be able to get properly married at home. Being able to is what matters. We'd like to do it soon, if we can. We've waited a long time already."

It's still strange to really be doing this, but it's a relief that Mulcahy seems not only pleased to be asked, but eager to perform the wedding. There's something simple and kind about how happy he seems for two perfect strangers that's like sunshine on flowers, nourishing after the darkness that's been so prevalent for Finnick and Annie over the last few months.

It's enough encouragement for him to continue, proudly: "Her name's Annie. And mine's Finnick."

[collaronhisneck]

"Finnick and Annie," he repeats, still beaming. Annie is, of course, a good strong name in the British/European tradition, and Finnick is similar to some Irish and Scottish names he's familiar with to not throw him for a loop the way a few other names in this village have. "I'm more than happy to perform whatever ceremony you feel most comfortable with whenever you'd like to have it. I've done a few different sorts, Catholic and Methodist mostly, but I've observed some others as well and can imitate them tolerably. Possibly even better, given what we have on hand here." There's no Bible for him to find appropriate scripture to read, no rings or marriage certificates. A Buddhist ceremony probably would be more in line with what they have available to them in terms of supplies, except for the donkey.

With one last shake, Mulcahy nods Finnick to one of the chairs laid out in place of pews, taking another for himself as he continues to face the younger man. "I'd like to meet Annie before we discuss too much - since it's her wedding, too, I'd rather explain what I can and can't do to both of you at once and we can all have a discussion as to what would be most appropriate and which day you'd care to have it. Also, I want to extend my well-wishes to her as soon as I can." It's obvious he means it, too, as he continues to smile at the thought of a wedding.

[fishermansweater]

There's something very genuine about the priest, though he still doesn't quite understand just what being a priest entails, that it's a little disarming, even to someone as guarded as Finnick. Maybe, he considers, it's not entirely surprising, since he's often instinctively well-disposed towards people who are kind to Annie, who treat her as more than just the stories the Games would tell about her.

"I've talked to her about what we want to do," Finnick says as he sits down opposite Father Mulcahy. He's used to a sort of gentle deflection about Annie, is own way of protecting their secrets, of protecting her, but this time, mostly, he's just aware of Annie's nervousness around strangers.

"Weddings where we're from aren't really fancy." Not like the ones in the Capitol, like the sort of thing they've been pushing on Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark back in Panem. "The person doing it welcomes the guests, then talks about marriage and the couple, and there are some sayings and a song, but the important part is that the couple exchange vows and touch each other's lips with salt water. I think we have everything we'd need for something like it here."

It's funny, the way he's smiling, like it's a reflection of Mulcahy's beaming face. "It all feels very real, to talk about it," he admits.