simplestgift: (Don't you understand?)
[Last he knew, Archie Kennedy was lying in his cot on board His Majesty's Frigate Lydia, in the surgeon's cabin. No one really remembers falling asleep, do they? But when he was falling asleep, he was very warm. It's the cold that wakes him.

When he opens his eyes, he's lying in a bed of grass. Overhead is a pale blue sky, and November bites the air.

He's back. After more than three years, he's back.

He sits up, shivering, and looks over his shoulder. The wings are there again. He's had a good long break from them, but there's something that is both thrilling and horrifying about their existence. Beside him, folded nicely, are civilian clothes, on top of which lies his journal. He dresses quickly, but only so he can stop shivering before his shaking hands open the journal. He speaks with a stammering quickness, voice unsteady.]


This is...M-Mr. Kennedy. [Using his real name in front of everyone has come to feel very wrong.] I've come back. I've come back, and it's been three years. How long has it been here? Who is still here? Elizabeth?

[He'll wind up both at house 36 and house 7, desperate to see sorely-missed faces. Later, much calmer, he makes another announcement, this one writen.]

It has come to my attention that it is November already. On December the First, beginning at four o'clock PM, as happened one year ago in Luceti, there will be a Christmas ball and feast. I will require help with the food, setting up, and cleaning after. Anyone wishing to attend may do so, so long as they are properly dressed. This year it shall be held in the Battle Dome.

[OOC: Archie is returning from his mallynap believing he went home for three and a half years, somehow alive and with memories of Luceti. He looks no older, but he's definitely thinner and his hair is no longer than shoulder-length now, so he does look somewhat different.  Have fun.]
simplestgift: (Warm smile.)
[The night is chill and quiet, and Midshipman Archie Kennedy falls asleep hoping never to leave this place.]

Cut for introspection. )

[Before bed, he writes in the journal. He does not sign his name, but the camera catches a soft smile on his face as if a weight has been lifted.]

If I am silent, let it be because I do not wish to speak and not because I am afraid to be heard.

More introspection. )

[After cooking an unnecessarily fancy breakfast for himself and his housemate, he writes again on the journal network, in his happy delirium forgetting to stay anonymous.]

It appears I have come up a bit short lately, but welcome to all new feathers. You should be told that if ever you feel unsafe in your own home for any reason whatever, you may speak with someone at the Welcome Center and you will be placed in a safe home for as long as you need.

Moreover, it is a bit late in coming, but those of us more accustomed to 'old world' traditions will be hosting a Christmas feast and ball on December the First. Ungodly early, of course, but we did not wish to compete with the new feather season round Twelfth Night. All are welcome to attend, but we ask you arrive in full dress--formal clothing. Anyone willing to volunteer to help with cooking, decorating, or music would be most welcome.

[After realizing his mistake and fretting for a bit that he wasn't anonymous for the first announcement, Archie will be knocking on the doors of house 7 and the beach house for some unannounced visits. Catch him in between if you like.

OOC note: Any IC questions about the ball that have been answered OOCly can be handwaved if you prefer.]
simplestgift: (z In the middle of it all.)
[Luceti. Even the name is beautiful.

It's quiet here, but not silent. No cannonfire, no stomping feet or shouting men. No bars or guards or grey stone walls. Everything is lovely and serene and everyone is pleasant. Well. Nearly everyone, but that's okay.

In Hornblower's company, Kennedy stops by the bakery and selects, for some reason, cheesecake. He's never had it--not that he can remember, at least--and it is absolutely the most beautiful thing he can imagine. Chocolate cheesecake, smooth and rich and flavorful with a drizzle of raspberry syrup. He tastes it and doesn't just eat it.

They visit the tea shop and he is floored. They visit the clothing shop and he finds a new linen shirt, already made. They visit the library and...

And...

O the glory of the library. It's as if this town was created for his rehabilitation.

Hours are spent in the library until he learns he can take books out. Even then, he very nearly doesn't leave.

On the way home, he asks to be alone for a moment. When given the chance, he walks the woods close to the village. At twilight, he sits at the fountain, staring into space with utter blankness because he knows the pleasantness of this day is going to end.

He doesn't realize it when the moon rises and he's still sitting alone in its pale light.

OOC: Kennedy's replies will come from [livejournal.com profile] babymid_archie. Meet him absolutely anywhere during the day or at night. Depending on when and where, Horatio will tag in as well, so remember to specify when/where in your tag. Share his rapture or cheer him up. Possible triggers--character is hella post-traumatic.]

simplestgift: (sidelong sarcastic)
[Kennedy comes to himself lying on his side in the grass, his wings splayed haphazardly, a slight breeze causing the feathers to flutter. He lies still for a moment, watching without thought the grass as it ripples softly before his eyes. Then he remembers that he was taken.

That explains this.

It begins to come back to him. He'd glimpsed the cages and panicked. They'd jabbed a needle into him then, and everything had gone soft, then black. He remembers nothing between then and now, and nothing is what he'll search his memories for. The blackout is a blessing, even if it is unsettling. It would be worse to remember.

He's in his own clothes--shirtsleeves, waistcoat, and trousers--and his journal is lying nearby, because clearly the Malnosso are paragons of courtesy. He rolls onto his stomach to reach for it when he hears a clear tinkling sound.  He reaches for his throat. There is...something, very much like a collar. No, it is a collar of steel links with no clasp, and hanging from it is a bell.

A bell he cannot touch. It rings when he moves, but his fingers pass through it. No matter what he does, he cannot keep it from sounding.

Apparently someone at the Malnosso facility is a wise guy who eavesdrops on certain conversations and thinks he's pretty damn funny.

Okay. So no audio. He grabs the journal and writes instead.]


I'm here. How long have I been gone?

-A. Kennedy

P.S. Horatio, do tell me one of you fed the cat.
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