Captain Francis John Patrick Mulcahy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collaronhisneck) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-10-19 07:48 pm
collaronhisneck) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-10-19 07:48 pm
Entry tags:
Sanctify, O Lord, Our Souls, Minds, and Bodies. Touch Our Minds and Search Out Our Consciences.
WHO: Francis Mulcahy
WHERE: All of 6I, especially the church
WHEN: October 13-24
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Panic? Memories of war? Will update if something specific crops up.
For all that he's been told this place is not like the home he's used to on so many levels, for all that he'd seen that in effect in many minor ways, in truth Mulcahy hadn't entirely believed it to be true. Oh, of course he'd been brought to the village in a way he couldn't account for, for a reason he couldn't begin to comprehend, and there were people here from worlds he couldn't even begin to imagine, but in terms of day to day life everything had been surprisingly calm. Well, except for the little tricks that had been played on a few of the residents recently, but that seemed fairly harmless in the grander scheme of things.
Suddenly, though, it's no longer a laughing matter.
The first day, it's barely noticeable, since he's only at the inn for the usual help with the midday meal, but by the time the sun sets it's unmistakable when he reaches for a cup and he can barely feel it, even seeing some of the metal through his fingers in a way that nearly gives him a heart attack. Walking back to the church after sundown, it feels both like he's being stared at by an unseen entity and like he can't be seen, as the few people out don't seem to be focusing on him with their eyes. The second day he's awake early, though he's barely slept, and is out in the pre-dawn trying to find anyone awake and who can see him, though it seems to be a losing battle. It gets better as the sun rises, and he calms somewhat - and then worse again as the sun descends, and the panic kicks in once more. He's seen the same fear on the faces of far too many soldiers, especially the ones who'd been trapped in shell holes or buildings that had been bombed, that fear that they'll be forgotten and left behind to die on the battlefield in horrible ways... and while he's never had to face that fear himself, he's rapidly becoming all too familiar with it, as he fades out every day as the sun goes down and the world seems to forget he exists.
After five or six days, Mulcahy's established a kind of routine to give him something to hold on to as this... existence doesn't seem to be getting any better, though it also doesn't seem to be getting any worse, at least for him. He still shows up at the inn for lunch, helping as best he can but still somewhat hazy even then, and as the sun goes down he wanders the village looking for anything he can find that might provide some sort of clue about what's happening, or the other people affected by this phenomenon. At night, he retreats to the church, kneeling in the "nave" and praying over the rosary in the darkness, sometimes varying it with recitations of parts of The Republic. He's praying for any sort of answers or deliverance from this half-state, but he's also wondering if he's truly done something to anger God and this is his punishment.
WHERE: All of 6I, especially the church
WHEN: October 13-24
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Panic? Memories of war? Will update if something specific crops up.
For all that he's been told this place is not like the home he's used to on so many levels, for all that he'd seen that in effect in many minor ways, in truth Mulcahy hadn't entirely believed it to be true. Oh, of course he'd been brought to the village in a way he couldn't account for, for a reason he couldn't begin to comprehend, and there were people here from worlds he couldn't even begin to imagine, but in terms of day to day life everything had been surprisingly calm. Well, except for the little tricks that had been played on a few of the residents recently, but that seemed fairly harmless in the grander scheme of things.
Suddenly, though, it's no longer a laughing matter.
The first day, it's barely noticeable, since he's only at the inn for the usual help with the midday meal, but by the time the sun sets it's unmistakable when he reaches for a cup and he can barely feel it, even seeing some of the metal through his fingers in a way that nearly gives him a heart attack. Walking back to the church after sundown, it feels both like he's being stared at by an unseen entity and like he can't be seen, as the few people out don't seem to be focusing on him with their eyes. The second day he's awake early, though he's barely slept, and is out in the pre-dawn trying to find anyone awake and who can see him, though it seems to be a losing battle. It gets better as the sun rises, and he calms somewhat - and then worse again as the sun descends, and the panic kicks in once more. He's seen the same fear on the faces of far too many soldiers, especially the ones who'd been trapped in shell holes or buildings that had been bombed, that fear that they'll be forgotten and left behind to die on the battlefield in horrible ways... and while he's never had to face that fear himself, he's rapidly becoming all too familiar with it, as he fades out every day as the sun goes down and the world seems to forget he exists.
After five or six days, Mulcahy's established a kind of routine to give him something to hold on to as this... existence doesn't seem to be getting any better, though it also doesn't seem to be getting any worse, at least for him. He still shows up at the inn for lunch, helping as best he can but still somewhat hazy even then, and as the sun goes down he wanders the village looking for anything he can find that might provide some sort of clue about what's happening, or the other people affected by this phenomenon. At night, he retreats to the church, kneeling in the "nave" and praying over the rosary in the darkness, sometimes varying it with recitations of parts of The Republic. He's praying for any sort of answers or deliverance from this half-state, but he's also wondering if he's truly done something to anger God and this is his punishment.
no subject
"Are you all right?" she asks with no small amount of concern. "You look a little unsettled."
That's likely putting it mildly, but at the moment she doesn't want to alarm him. If it turns out to be nothing at all, she can say she's a little paranoid, even for a doctor, but she'd rather be paranoid than risk missing someone who actually needs her.