Duncan Heimdall Jackson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inchesofevil) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2016-02-10 01:45 pm
inchesofevil) wrote in maskormenacelogs2016-02-10 01:45 pm
Entry tags:
but does anyone even actually know what coping is, that sounds fake
WHO: Duncan & Norman
WHERE: Heropa #035
WHEN: Monday 2/8, early morning
WHAT: Discussing that whole looming war thing and Duncan trying not to be a total wreck over nothing, please save him guardiandad
WARNINGS: None
This is not Duncan's first experience with being on the fringes of a war that could spill over to his doorstep any moment. Zenderael's war, however, was distant. While there was always the looming possibility of finding himself crossing the dimensional divide, the war itself had never reached Earth, and most of his worrying had been reserved for his friends who were stuck on the Zenderael side of the gap and did have to deal with the conflict. This, Russia turning the Cold War hot, is very different. It's direct, even if it hasn't hit him personally and hasn't crossed the ocean to American soil yet. An ocean is much easier to cross than a multiverse, and the Russians have already shown that they can take people hostage no matter how much they don't want to get involved.
Duncan in a crisis has two modes: 1) if there is a possible course of action to solve or escape the crisis, he is a frantic panicky mess fueled by desperation to achieve that solution or escape at reasonable cost, and 2) if there is nothing that can be done to prevent, mitigate, or solve the problem, he's just a nervous fucking wreck waiting for the inevitable.
This looming threat of war puts him squarely in the latter.
There's not much he can do right now except go about business as usual and hope for the best. He's not a fighter, and without his healing magic he can't even play support. He's not diplomatic enough to be a useful negotiator and he doesn't have Archbishop Doukas around to give his stern, "Your All-Holiness"es to keep his mouth in check. If the Russians decide to take him hostage there's nothing he can really do to prevent it. He doesn't have an army. He doesn't even have a handful of clerics to rely on for assistance. Even though he has a god-heart, even though he can defy death, he is powerless here. And it is not a good fucking feeling.
So. Stress. Duncan deals with stress by finding outlets for the abundance of anxious energy. School, work, RP, obsessive upkeep of game wikis, etc etc. He's not in school now, his work is still in the 'deciding what the fuck we're even working on' stage, RP has become tainted forever, he doesn't even have a bike he can take apart and put back together directionlessly for hours--really, the only avenue available to him is cleaning.
Which is to say that it's 5AM and Duncan is awake much too early because he woke up in the middle of the night and gave up on trying to go back to sleep, and he is currently in the process of cleaning the kitchen because what the fuck else is he going to do at 5AM.
But when you're tired and stressed there are some things which just go out the window entirely, like coordination. Which results in him banging a shin against the open door of the dishwasher and dropping a plate in the process of catching himself against the counter. It shatters into dozens of pieces on the kitchen tile, a crash that seems to leave a deafening silence and an oppressive stillness in its wake as Duncan stares down at the ceramic shards.
Another thing that abandons you in this state is emotional regulation. Which is why this stupid little accident, something he normally would just sigh at and clean up with minimal fuss, feels like all the crushing injustice of the universe condensed into a single point in time. A white-hot knot of impotent fury blazes to life in the pit of his stomach, and it is only by forcing himself to remain completely still that he manages to contain the urge to take out that violent frustration on his surroundings. He closes his eyes, deep breaths, and carefully steps over the debris to fold his arms over the counter, head propped in one hand.
He's not in a good enough mental state to tell himself to chill the fuck out over it. His brain is in full-on beat-yourself-up-over-everything mode because that was a stupid fucking accident and he can't even maintain a home without fucking shit up and who even let him be an adult anyway he never signed up for this fuck everything. It's not long before he finds himself trying to keep from crying, and he feels fucking stupid for that, too. What a dumb thing to cry over; last time he cried he was literally dying. This is a plate. It's not the end of the fucking world. What the fuck is wrong with him?
The heel of his palm is pressed over his eye, so hard that the way it digs into his cheekbone is almost painful. That's a thing he wrote into Ravindra, wasn't it? Hand over his eye just like this. Some small way of trying to ground himself when he felt too overwhelmed to cope. You really do put pieces of yourself into all your characters. Or is that something he didn't start doing until after he made Ravi...
WHERE: Heropa #035
WHEN: Monday 2/8, early morning
WHAT: Discussing that whole looming war thing and Duncan trying not to be a total wreck over nothing, please save him guardiandad
WARNINGS: None
This is not Duncan's first experience with being on the fringes of a war that could spill over to his doorstep any moment. Zenderael's war, however, was distant. While there was always the looming possibility of finding himself crossing the dimensional divide, the war itself had never reached Earth, and most of his worrying had been reserved for his friends who were stuck on the Zenderael side of the gap and did have to deal with the conflict. This, Russia turning the Cold War hot, is very different. It's direct, even if it hasn't hit him personally and hasn't crossed the ocean to American soil yet. An ocean is much easier to cross than a multiverse, and the Russians have already shown that they can take people hostage no matter how much they don't want to get involved.
Duncan in a crisis has two modes: 1) if there is a possible course of action to solve or escape the crisis, he is a frantic panicky mess fueled by desperation to achieve that solution or escape at reasonable cost, and 2) if there is nothing that can be done to prevent, mitigate, or solve the problem, he's just a nervous fucking wreck waiting for the inevitable.
This looming threat of war puts him squarely in the latter.
There's not much he can do right now except go about business as usual and hope for the best. He's not a fighter, and without his healing magic he can't even play support. He's not diplomatic enough to be a useful negotiator and he doesn't have Archbishop Doukas around to give his stern, "Your All-Holiness"es to keep his mouth in check. If the Russians decide to take him hostage there's nothing he can really do to prevent it. He doesn't have an army. He doesn't even have a handful of clerics to rely on for assistance. Even though he has a god-heart, even though he can defy death, he is powerless here. And it is not a good fucking feeling.
So. Stress. Duncan deals with stress by finding outlets for the abundance of anxious energy. School, work, RP, obsessive upkeep of game wikis, etc etc. He's not in school now, his work is still in the 'deciding what the fuck we're even working on' stage, RP has become tainted forever, he doesn't even have a bike he can take apart and put back together directionlessly for hours--really, the only avenue available to him is cleaning.
Which is to say that it's 5AM and Duncan is awake much too early because he woke up in the middle of the night and gave up on trying to go back to sleep, and he is currently in the process of cleaning the kitchen because what the fuck else is he going to do at 5AM.
But when you're tired and stressed there are some things which just go out the window entirely, like coordination. Which results in him banging a shin against the open door of the dishwasher and dropping a plate in the process of catching himself against the counter. It shatters into dozens of pieces on the kitchen tile, a crash that seems to leave a deafening silence and an oppressive stillness in its wake as Duncan stares down at the ceramic shards.
Another thing that abandons you in this state is emotional regulation. Which is why this stupid little accident, something he normally would just sigh at and clean up with minimal fuss, feels like all the crushing injustice of the universe condensed into a single point in time. A white-hot knot of impotent fury blazes to life in the pit of his stomach, and it is only by forcing himself to remain completely still that he manages to contain the urge to take out that violent frustration on his surroundings. He closes his eyes, deep breaths, and carefully steps over the debris to fold his arms over the counter, head propped in one hand.
He's not in a good enough mental state to tell himself to chill the fuck out over it. His brain is in full-on beat-yourself-up-over-everything mode because that was a stupid fucking accident and he can't even maintain a home without fucking shit up and who even let him be an adult anyway he never signed up for this fuck everything. It's not long before he finds himself trying to keep from crying, and he feels fucking stupid for that, too. What a dumb thing to cry over; last time he cried he was literally dying. This is a plate. It's not the end of the fucking world. What the fuck is wrong with him?
The heel of his palm is pressed over his eye, so hard that the way it digs into his cheekbone is almost painful. That's a thing he wrote into Ravindra, wasn't it? Hand over his eye just like this. Some small way of trying to ground himself when he felt too overwhelmed to cope. You really do put pieces of yourself into all your characters. Or is that something he didn't start doing until after he made Ravi...