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

/off to bed! GOOD NIGHT.

[herotypical]

"Just enough..."

She followed suit. Well, weren't they a party of two!

Night!

[simplestgift]

That one gets the slightest wince as it hits along with the first one. "Very good."

[herotypical]

She slowed up on the third. Hesitating over it.

"...'s mainly vodka. Tony Stark would be proud.

[simplestgift]

"Mm." A sound of approval. "Bless the Russians."

[herotypical]

"And grey geese..."

DOWN THE HATCH.

[simplestgift]

Third shot. "These are delicious, you know." His chest is feeling pleasantly warm. He sets down the third empty glass.

[herotypical]

"Of course they're delish. I made them."

Buffy breathed deep. Her lips felt a little numb. That was always the first sign.

[simplestgift]

"Are you all right?"

He knows watered-down wine gets to Buffy fairly quickly, let alone three shots of vodka.

[herotypical]

"Approaching pleasantly non-sensory, actually."

After the shocks and surprises and horrors alluded to and danced around in the back room, she would gladly choose inebriation. The more she thought about Archie dying, the less sober she cared to be.

[simplestgift]

"Then you're well on your way." He nabs the fourth shot and downs it.

[herotypical]

"Well on my way to needing your help to get home tonight. I hope you realize that."

[simplestgift]

Leading Buffy back to house 7. House 7, where lives...

"Elizabeth." A sigh and a besotted smile.

[herotypical]

"Wow, I'm so not drunk enough to be comfortable with understanding that logical leap."

She knocked back the fourth shot with a fierce grimace. "You know -- you can open those windows from the outside. Makes for really shoddy security but interesting courtships."

[simplestgift]

"...Which room is hers?"

This is such a bad idea he's getting. Such a bad one.

[herotypical]

"...The one with the -- and around the corner -- and if you...




I'll show you!"

[simplestgift]

"After you finish."

[herotypical]

"Says you!"

She leaned back -- clearly taking a pause before her final shot. "You've had just as much!"

The fact that he could handle it better doesn't seem to make a difference.

[simplestgift]

"I'm Scotch." He sets his emptied fifth glass on the counter as he finishes swallowing.

[herotypical]

"No," she shook her head and hiked a thumb over her shoulder at a dark-glassed bottle. "That's scotch. You? You're Scottish.

Difference."

[simplestgift]

"As you say." Five shots of vodka later, things are a bit light and happy. "My point is still proven."

[herotypical]

"The drunk who bums around outside my Scottish castle proves otherwise! Proves a whole other point!"

[simplestgift]

"And what point is that?"

[herotypical]

"...One time he hurled all over my cutest pair of heels."

[simplestgift]

"...I'm not going to do that. You should...run him off."

[herotypical]

"He's not a vampire! He's not even a dem-- though, the contents of his stomach did look a little like..."

Buffy frowned and leaned far far forward to claim her fifth shot. She held it but didn't drink it yet. "A-anyway. He's not in my jurisdiction."