𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚌𝚊𝚑𝚢.

• eyes:  blue | green | brown | hazel | gray | gray-blue | other - empty • hair:   blonde | sandy | brown | black | auburn | ginger | grey / white | multi-color | other • body type:   skinny | slender | slim | built | curvy | athletic | average | muscular | pudgy • skin:   pale | light | fair | freckled | tan | olive | medium | dark | discolored | scarred • gender:   male | female | trans | cis | agender | demigender | genderfluid | other | doesn’t like labels • sexuality:   heterosexual | homosexual | bisexual | pansexual | asexual | demisexual | other | doesn’t like labels • romantic orientation:   homoromantic | heteroromantic | biromantic | panromantic | aromantic | demiromantic | unsure | doesn’t like labels • species:   human | undead | shapeshifter | demon | angel | witch | ghost | incubus / succubus | werewolf | alien | mutant | android | cyborg  |  other • education:  high school | college | university | master’s degree | PhD | M.D. | self taught • has been:  in love | hurt | ill | mentally abused | bullied | physically abused | tortured | brainwashed | shot | stabbed • positive traits:  affectionate | adventurous | athletic | brave | careful | charming | confident | creative | cunning | determined | forgiving | generous | honest | humorous | intelligent | loyal | modest | patient | selfless | polite | down-to-earth | diligent | romantic | moral | fun-loving | charismatic | calm | • negative traits:  aggressive | arrogant | argumentative | bossy | cynical | envious | shy | fearful | selfish | gullible | jealous | impatient | impulsive | cocky | reckless | insecure | irresponsible | mistrustful | dramatic | paranoid | possessive | sarcastic | self-conscious | swears | unstable | clumsy | rebellious | emotional | vengeful | anxious | self-sabotaging | moody | peevish | angry | pessimistic | slacker | thin skinned | dishonest | vindictive | volatile | rude | disloyal | cruel | sadistic | masochist | violent | manipulative | vain | narcissistic • living situation:   lives alone | lives with parent(s) / guardian / family | lives with significant other | lives with a friend | drifter | homeless | lives with children | other • parents/guardian:   mother | father | sibling | adoptive | foster | grandmother | grandfather | uncle | aunt | deceased | disowned • sibling(s): sister | brother | none | other • relationship:   single | crushing | dating | engaged | married | separated | it’s complicated • has:   learning disorder | personality disorder | mental health issue | anxiety disorder | sleep disorder | eating disorder | behavioral disorder | developmental disorder | substance-related disorder | PTSD | mental disability | physical disability | • done before:   had alcohol | smoked | stolen | done drugs | self-harmed | starved | had sex | had a threesome | had a one-night stand | gotten into a fist fight | gone to hospital | gone to jail | used a fake ID | played hooky | gone to a rave | killed someone | had someone try to kill them

          she can’t help the quiet laughter that bubbles, though she does try not to be so loud about it. the image of a grown man in revealing dresses + stilettos dances around her mind’s eye, + she can’t help finding it amusing. “y-y-you sh-shoul-ld.” her voice transitions from laughter to the knowing tone of a friend who’d been all but left behind. “i’m sh-sh-sure h-he’d b-b-be … v-very h-h-hap-ppy t-t-to hear from y-y-you. i-i th-think, f-f-from w-what-t i c-c-can t-t-tell –” she hesitates. don’t assume, she tells herself. “y-y-you’d l-like t-t-to h-hear f-from him, t-t-t-too. hm?”

“yes, knowing him, I think he’d be very happy to hear from me. I think he’s probably missing our old unit a lot more than he expected to, in all honesty.” francis smiled, but it was a sad, soft sort of smile - like the memories he was recalling were being rather desperately censored to allow himself only the happy parts. “I - ah. yes, yes, I would like to hear from him. I haven’t heard from anyone since we’ve been home, really, and I’m a bit worried.“ he took his phone out of his pocket and turned it over in his hands a few times. 

People were like candles, in that it was a lot easier to watch one quickly blown out, than it was to watch it flicker as the oxygen was vented out an airlock until there was nothing left and it went out the hard way. Sometimes surviving was just going out the hard way. Maybe that’s what he was ultimately doing too, just much, much slower.

“No one really wins a war.” His answer was one he’d used enough that there was a mechanical tilt to it, a grimaced smile as the many boxes labelled ‘War’ in the back of his mind rattled ominously. “Even if you actually manage to save the world, there’s always another one around the corner eventually.” Forever. Sometimes, with longer periods between, but war eventually came to call no matter how long they’d done without it. Someome somewhere always wanted something they thought was worth it.

“Doesn’t mean there weren’t heroes.” His tone jack-knifed into something warmer as he smiled, making the conscious decision to try to lift the lead balloon of a conversation just a little off the ground. “You were. I’ll write a list of why, try me.”

“oh, I wouldn’t say I was a hero,“ he said softly, looking down at his glass. “the surgeons - hawkeye, and bj, and major winchester, and colonel potter and the rest - THEY were heroes, and those dustoff pilots who brought the wounded, and the sisters at the orphanage, but not me. I was just a priest in too far over my head to make much of a difference at all.“ 

it was a conversation he’d had multiple times, and always with the same results: he just didn’t believe he was any sort of hero. despite the lives he’d saved, and the morale he’d provided, and the sacrifices he’d made, and the people he’d saved, it just didn’t feel like he’d done ENOUGH. there was always MORE he could have done: more lives he could have changed, more useful things he could have done.

@joculariity· ✈︎ 💃🏽

It’s really only a club because they all agree to call it that, but it’s got a bar and a jukebox and something BJ called “apple brandy” that tastes more like moonshine with a little cinnamon in it — it kicks like a mule and burns all the way down like no brandy she’s ever tried before – and she loves it. All of it.

Especially on nights like this, when it’s been a good day with no patients lost and they can all take a collective breath and the mood in this little bar is one of relieved camaraderie. Klinger and Nurse Kellye are shuffling around near the jukebox, and she can only sit there cooling her heels for an impatient minute before she’s on her feet, swallowing the rest of her drink in a blur of warmth, and looking for the closest set of olive drab slacks.

“C’mon, padre!”

Not much of an invite, maybe, when she’s already grabbed his hand to pull him onto the little dance floor, but her grin’s as sunny as they come. “Let’s get a little exercise, huh?”

days that the jukebox was playing were especially dangerous for the chaplain of the 4077th. every other night, he could hide behind the piano, slip in a few ragtime renditions of some hymns, and justify it to himself as some unconventional ministry, but on nights like these, the jukebox took over the music, leaving francis’s hands free for a few too many glasses of whatever pierce and hunnicutt were passing off as high-shelf liquor that week.

and then, of course, there was the dancing! as much as he never really got the chance to join in, he loved to dance, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the jealousy on the nearby corpsmen’s faces when lieutenant blake grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the bar.

            a crooked smile grew on her face. the image of straight-laced + sordid soldiers is jolted by a conflicting image of one of them attempting to seem as maddening as possible – the scenarios could be nothing but ridiculous. “w-w-well – i-i-i’m-m s-s-sure th-the ent-tert-tainmen-nt w-was n-n-nice…”

at the thought of his dear friend, the ridiculous corporal maxwell klinger, francis laughed and rubbed his hand over his eyes, forcing himself to focus on happier memories. “he’d order these dresses - some were quite risqué, mind you, and this all started before don’t ask don’t tell was repealed - and he’d wear them around the hospital, and to formations, and on patrols.” he chuckled and dipped his head to hide the way his cheeks turned pink. “I have to admit, he did look very fetching. I think, by the end, he really started to prefer his heels over his combat boots.” a soft grin spread across his features, and his blue eyes lit up with fondness and nostalgia. 

“everyone at home really seems to think it’s that easy, huh?“ francis’s soft voice was slurred and clumsily loud, and his eyes trailed on jack’s lips without any of the flirtatious intent the action may have had earlier in the war. the surgery colonel potter had helped him through had helped him regain his hearing a good bit, definitely, but when he drank, which was more than he’d have cared to admit these days, it (coping and hearing) became difficult all over again. 

“well, I can’t imagine anybody being disappointed by you, captain harkness!“ was that suggestive? it felt a bit suggestive. “I mean, you’re a captain, for goodness’s sake! what could the rest of your family possibly be like, if a handsome, polite captain is their most disappointing relative?“ he gave his companion a halfway-tipsy grin and took a sip of his whiskey (gin with a little bit of apple juice). 

@joculariity·: ❛ i feel like i’m going crazy! ❜

         behind overlarge glazzes, hazel eyes widen. “o-oh – ?” she hesitates. how to phrase this next sentence? the idea is clear in her mind. “w-w-well – c-c-cr-raz-zy p-peop-p-ple d-don’t-t us-s-sually th-thin-nk th-they’r-re c-craz-zy, s-s-so.”

she’s pale, the effects of her lack of sleep finally making itself known. weakly, she sinks into the offered seat, rubbing her temples to soothe the headache that pounded away in her head. “I…” she breathes. “I’m just really tired.” she whispers. “Just need some sleep. but….i don’t want…don’t want t’….”

continued // @joculariity