simplestgift | Thirty Bells: [Action/Written]

[Archie Kennedy opens his eyes with his back against something hard, his wings spread out over solidness even as he grows aware of the prickle of grass underneath him. He is curled up on his side, wearing new feather trousers and shivering horribly. He hugs himself for warmth, and movement brings the rain to his attention. He is soaked.

My God, what did I lose? His hand grasps for the St. Michael pendant Horatio gave him for his birthday last year, only to find empty air.

He left it at home.

His wings twitch, and he twists to find himself pressed against a tall rock, probably near one of the lakes. His disorientation in full swing, he doesn’t even bother to try to figure out which lake it is. He sits up, waits for the world to stop whirling, and takes a shaky, hasty inventory.

Arms and legs. Nose and ears and eyes. Touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing. Ten fingers, ten toes, a wild mass of blond hair unbound and sticking to his damp neck and forehead.

What did he lose?

Still trembling, he curls against the rock and tries breathing for a bit.

Memories, maybe? Any holes in his memory? How is he to know?

Horatio. He remembers Horatio, thank God. Buffy, Jilly, Jack, Leonard, Elizabeth. Father is Finley Kennedy, mother is Elspeth, siblings Finley, Neil, and Abigail. His grandfather pushed him into the Navy. His first ship was the Swiftsure. Is everything important there?

Off on a mission, and now he's back as if he'd never left. Nothing hurts. The only pain now is in finding out what he paid to come back to life. And in telling…

No. He is not going to tell Horatio about another instance where he wasn’t able to protect him, especially from death. He can’t call for help, because anyone who finds him in this state will know, and no one can know.

His wings shiver, shaking off water, then wrap around his body as well as they can. He’s always so inclined to forget they exist, but they do help to stave off the rain and warm him a little. Then, weakly, his knees threatening to buckle under him, he stands up. It’s a long walk home, and he has to make it alone.

The next two hours pass in a haze as he finds the road and follows it, limiting himself to two thoughts every quarter-hour if he can help it. After a while, he doesn’t feel especially cold anymore, which he vaguely knows from his first appearance in Luceti is a bad sign. Sheltering in the tree village won’t help him get dry when he’s already soaked, so he continues at the quickest pace he can manage. It’d be even worse to die of hypothermia just after coming back from the dead.

In the village, he steals quietly toward the clothes shop, shivering hard and pale as a ghost.

It’s going to have to be a matter of putting on the face again. No one can suspect something is wrong. Those who aren’t scornful will be compassionate, and he doesn’t think he can take compassion right now.

The door to house 36 opens very, very quietly, and the lieutenant slips inside as if he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s there. As quickly as he can, he’ll find the St. Michael pendant and slip it on.

It takes some time, but in the evening, over a cup of tea in the tea shop, he writes on the journals, shortly:]

I’m back from my mission.

-AK

[At night, he goes out for a drink. He doesn't make it to Good Spirits.]

[OOC: First chronological tag goes to Amelia, last to John Watson.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ ...oh wait 8I

Know what, the journal can be picked up later. BACKTRACKING. ]

Mister Kennedy!

[Big ol' grin. Archie is huddled on the couch with hot coffee, Tolkien, and damp hair neatly combed and in its customary queue. At first, he was thinking he'd just let the kid barge into his own room and wait till he came back out, but when Wellard stops, Archie slowly and stiffly pushes to his feet. He's clearly exhausted.]

Mr. Wellard. Good to see you. [He'll just be shaking your hand now, Wellard.]

And you, sir. [ A handshake for a handshake, and his day is pretty much made now. ] I hope you're well?

Well enough, certainly, Mr. Wellard. [Archie briefly grips the boy’s forearm with his other hand. To Wellard, Archie probably looks slightly ghostlike, but at least he has more color now than he did.] Just a bit tired, but that’ll mend soon.

I'm glad to hear it. [ Even if you're looking kind of. Awful.

Wellard goes ahead and perches himself on the edge of a seat, which carries with it a "sit down please you have been on a mission and merited resting" sort of look. A look he would staunchly deny, of course, because his is not to question or to prod. Of course. He makes a note to himself not to stay for too long if an exit starts to look like the best idea. ]

[Kennedy does sit back down and picks his coffee back up.] Did I miss anything while I was away?

Nothing very important that I know of, sir. We've had a turn in the weather, which you may have noticed. [ The corners of his mouth twitch. I mean he is so neutral. ] Mister Hornblower tried his hand at cooking for the household.

How did he fare, in your estimation?

Better than one might expect, I think. [ It. Wasn't bad. And nobody got sick. That can only be labeled a success. ]

I learnt it by doing it. No reason the rest of you can't.

[A beat.]

Sayo may have helped a bit.

Accepting help often leads to improvement? [ It is a fact. Even if he doesn't really know. Sayo. ]

That it does. Do remember I lived on my own for four months, so I had a bit of practice before the captain came along.

Of course, sir. Very well-managed, sir. [ Metaphorical tail-wagging

everywhere

imagine if he hadn't had company while you were out. :| ]

...I'm only saying I began with an advantage, Mr. Wellard.

[He feels particularly ill-qualified to receive this kind of fanboying now.]

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