Thirty-One Bells: [Action/Written]

[simplestgift]

[It’s been over a month since Archie Kennedy died and had his worst fears realized.

It’s been over a month since his first seizure in almost eight years.

Ever since, he has barely left the house, barely spoken to anyone. But last night, he opened the window before falling asleep. Somehow, it made all the difference.

In the prison at Ferrol, it had been a drink of water, soothing his parched mouth and throat and letting him sleep easier so he woke hungry. Eating strengthened him, and he slept even better after breakfast, waking with the strength to live the rest of the day. Little by little, small things, and most of all Horatio, had coaxed him back into health and the belief that things can be good again.

Today, it’s the sun and a light breeze waking him after a long sleep. Fresh spring air and the promise of warm light make him want to leave the house at last. So after showering, shaving, and trimming his hair, he dresses in something decidedly civilian but still native to his period and steps outside.

Anyone who sees him as he wanders the village, if they knew him before, will notice he has lost a good ten or fifteen pounds in the last month, and is pale as a ghost. Others might see how loosely his clothing fits him. Provided no one intercepts him and makes him eat first, he starts at Seventh Heaven with a hearty breakfast platter, regaining his appetite as he replenishes the nutrients in his body. Feeling much better, he heads to the barracks for some shooting practice, then his own backyard to try to get back in shape with swordplay. The drills Jack taught him are even more exhausting now than they were when he first started, but the exercise feels good for about half an hour.

After another shower and a quick library trip, by which point he has reached a somewhat manic state (he’ll be going back and forth between manic and depressive in the months to come), he walks out of the grocery store with what seems to be enough food to feed Kent (or possibly Rhode Island, if you’re American). He then spends the rest of the afternoon cooking up a Proper British Dinner on board the Britannia the way Jack Aubrey used to do. A simple message alerts his housemates, James Norrington, and, as an afterthought, Richard Sharpe, to dinner in the captain’s cabin right around four o’clock, promising wine, cider, and brandy, steak and turnip pie (but not for you, William), salmagundi, lobster, spinage toasts, a shoulder of beef, asparagus, mushroom catsup (which resembles Worcestershire sauce), a spiced steamed pudding, and peach tarts with heavy cream. The leftovers, he will take to Jack Sparrow at his house.

Boy needed a calling. This may as well be it.

After cleaning up and washing the dishes and an impromptu nap in the grass behind his house with an open book on his chest, he thinks he has finally worked up the courage to visit Jilly at House 7 and Buffy at Good Spirits and write a message to Amelia McFly to meet him somewhere. Time to come clean about some things. Telling Horatio about recent events lifted a huge weight from his chest, so maybe telling everyone else will enable him to fly.

Lastly, he writes a message to Elizabeth Swann to meet him behind house 36 and to wear something comfortable. When she arrives, there will be a campfire in the backyard, and Archie will have a bottle of whisky and makings for s’mores.

Feel free to run into him at any point during the day. Housemates can catch him in the morning and late at night as well as at dinner.]

Comments

[herotypical]

"She is. Completely...mad. Bonkers. Crazy. Driven there, just before she was turned."

[simplestgift]

"Before? Driven?"

[herotypical]

"I-it's not a pretty story," she warned. "And it might end with you questioning my sanity."

[simplestgift]

"Another time, perhaps?"

[herotypical]

"Probably for the best."

It would be difficult for her. Explaining how Angel had done this to the woman. Buffy had yet to come to terms with that fact; she probably never would. "In case she comes around the village again? Avoid her eyes. Direct eye-contact'll get you..."

Killed.

"In trouble."

[simplestgift]

"Why?"

[herotypical]

"Not many vamps can do this but some...some can. Or maybe only three can and I've managed to meet all of them but -- but some can work some real hypno-mojo. Drusilla's strength isn't just seeing things -- future things -- but also making other people see things. Hallucinations. Making them think it's real. Really happening..."

[simplestgift]

The thought of this is disturbing. The belated realization that this might have happened to Buffy already is even more disturbing. He'd like to think of her as almost impervious, despite all she's gone through. Invincible. The sort of way he thinks about his brothers.

"She was...eager to do the deed. I doubt she'd have wasted time."

[herotypical]

"Right. She's...missing her -- family. Or whatever she calls it. She wouldn't have been interested in playing."

Buffy rubbed at the bitemarks on her neck. Anxious. "I don't think she's managed to turn anyone..."

[simplestgift]

He glances for the first time at the marks, but her hand is covering them. He can't see if it's old scarring or new scabbing.

"I'll stay out of the woods after dark, for now."

[herotypical]

Old. Definitely old. But always fresh-feeling in her mind when talk of bites and meals come onto the table. "That'd be wise. And a weight off my mind. She's got a real adorable short-list of my loved ones just waiting to be threatened some more. I don't like it. I don't like it one bit."

[simplestgift]

"You're the hero of the story, to every villain I've met." He does not sound envious.

[herotypical]

"The problem with these stories is that they never end."

No happy endings. No finales. Just war after war after apocalypse after apocalypse. She thought she'd had an end, once...

"I'm hitting the crystal meditation hard again. Trying to beef up my mind against her particular kind of invasion. It's...do you remember when Derek went vamp?"

[simplestgift]

"Vividly."

[herotypical]

"Did he...pull any mind tricks on you?"

Her hands crumple together in her lap.

[simplestgift]

"Not...no. Just broke my wrist. Don't hold it against him."

[herotypical]

"...He convinced me he'd as good as eviscerated Jack and managed to straight up paralyse me with the hallucination. I don't hold that against him. So I think I can manage."

[simplestgift]

"Erm. Yes, I believe you can."

[herotypical]

"And I'm hoping this fight doesn't turn out like that one."

[simplestgift]

Quietly, he reaches to wrap an arm around her.

[herotypical]

She leaned her cheek on his shoulder -- an arm around his back, below his wings. Happy to feel him solid and alive. To sense body heat and hold her own breath long enough to feel the rise and fall of his. Alive, now. And she didn't even know he'd been dead.

"Spike's gone. If he was here then he could sniff her out or...sense her out. It's a sire thing. But we don't even have that advantage, now."

[simplestgift]

"What about you? Haven't you done this for years?"

[herotypical]

"No sewers. My powers at half-cap." She admitted to these things carefully -- tight-throated. She was all confidence with the others -- especially with Jack. "Back home you walk into a graveyard and you stumble over two or three vamps. Drusilla's been around a lot longer than most. She's crazy but she's...a survivor. Don't get me wrong. I'm not worried. I just also wouldn't mind the guy's help right now."

[simplestgift]

"...What about your powers?"

The power cap has never been something he's really aware of, or had reason to think about before.

[herotypical]

She lifted her head. A little surprised.

"I'm meant to be twice as strong as this, Archie. Twice as fast-healing. When we're on drafts or on missions, they lift the cap. But otherwise I'm working at about roughly fifty percent my usual ability."

And -- frankly -- that fifty percent was already impressive. "Of course, Drusilla is too. But it kinda leaves the senses a little unhoned."