simplestgift | One Bell: [Written/Accidental Video] No Gallows Can Touch Me

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One Bell: [Written/Accidental Video] No Gallows Can Touch Me

[Written in a shaky hand]

I don't know if anyone is really out there. I seem to be caught up in a tree. In my defence, the tree looks worse than I do. I think I am winning. However, it is very cold and windy up here, and I can't seem to make it down on my own. I've heard about safe falling, but the only guideline we have about falling in the navy is "don't do it." If anyone can see this, then, I need your help. In the meantime, I'll keep writing, if you don't mind. It's just about the only way to keep moving up here.

I am Lieutenant Kennedy aboard His Majesty's Ship the Renown. If you'll believe it, that used to mean something. You may call me Kennedy (with or without the "mister"), or, since I suppose it makes no difference here, just Archie. I've answered to both. While I am sure you are dying to hear the endlessly dull story of my life and death, my literary skills are limited by my half-frozen fingers and my ability to manipulate this infernal book. Maybe later.

I can only hope this place has a decent glass of whiskey somewhere. I have a headache. Probably a permanent one. Not to mention I'm aching in body parts I actually did not have before. I suppose I should be glad to be alive again. Maybe that will come later.

Damned wings. I've no idea what to do with mys

[Accidental video: a flying shot of, well, mostly a grey-and-white blur as the book falls from the tree. A man's fingertips, nearly blue with cold, pass just in front. There's a dismayed shout and the sound of tearing cloth as the journal thumps to the ground, lying open. Barely visible in one corner is a very cold new feather, barely hanging on to a tree branch far above the ground. His pants seem to be caught and tearing. For a moment, he freezes with his arms around the branch, breathing heavily. Seconds later, he chuckles as if he just got a joke. He can barely be heard when he speaks.]

Looks like I d-didn't escape a hanging after all, H-Horatio.

[After a few more wheezing, half-hysterical chuckles, he goes very quiet.

The rest of the shot is of a location just outside the west side of town, north of the river.]

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[Kennedy does unfold, somewhat painfully.] I can walk, [he insists, although his knee is swelling pretty quickly. Damn. Leeches make his skin crawl.]

Like hell are you walking in that condition. [ his cantankerous comes out of concern really, but he takes leg duty. ] Well, I'd really like him in the medical center, but since you brought him here? I think your bed will do.

[Who is an engineer to argue with a doctor? Scotty makes an acquiescent harrumphing sound and angles for the door.]

It's no good arguin' with 'im usually, friend. What the doctor says, goes. Though I'm sure we can get you some quarters of your own before long.

[He's used to cantankerous doctors. They're just usually the sort to tell you you're fine, get up and walk on your own two feet so I can feed you this awful tripe and send you back on watch you lazy ape. So Archie cooperates, as this means he doesn't have to blunder back up and trudge in the snow with giant blocks of ice for feet. Maybe he can finally afford to drift off.]

Aye, sir...

[ ah, he likes this one already. it's not everyday he gets someone who actually listens to him and with Scotty's help, gets him to his room. ]

[Scotty's room. The engineer has fixed it up considerably since he moved in back in the fall. There were no traces of the feminine decor that Uhura had preferred. A plaid bedspread covered the double bed, and a framed flag of Scotland graced the wall. Shelves were loaded with some of the equipment the communications officer had left behind, in various states of repair or ruin, and on the dresser there was a scale model of the Enterprise, carefully glued and painted.

Anyone looking at the partly-opened closet door might glimpse a red Starfleet uniform hanging inside. Scotty preferred to go about in civilian clothes, though, while he was here. While the room isn't messy, it isn't exactly neat as a pin, either, but has a comfortable lived-in appeal.

It's easy enough to lift the freezing and injured Naval officer onto the bed, though Scott laments the fact that the blood is going to get all over the linens.]

Just like when that pirate was here. Perhaps House 7 should just open a new sick bay wing, while we're at it, eh?

[But his tone is cheerful enough. In the end, he's warm-hearted enough not to mind this so much.]

[There's only a little blood on Kennedy's rope-burned hands. His knee is not as swollen as it might be if he hadn't been out in the snow. He barely opens his sleep-heavy eyelids.]

Pir'tss.

[And his eyes drift closed again.]

What do you think I've been trying to do since I got here? [ McCoy retorts and shoves a finger at Scotty as he leaves the room, intending to collect his medical kit and treat these wounds. ] Get some blankets, nurse.

Aye, Your Honorable Worship. [If it wasn't a matter of the newcomer's health, Scotty probably would have gotten more touchy about that. But now he's rummaging in the closet and pulling a number of mismatched, random blankets over to the bed.] You get used to him eventually, Kennedy.

I already am, I think.

[Really, after Dr. Hepplewhite? Dr. Clive? His Honorable Worship just seems fussy for all the right reasons. Archie's eyes blink open a little as a thought suddenly occurs to him. He briefly breaks into a grin like the cat that ate the canary, then returns to a simply content look.]

Mr. Scott?

[ well, now Scotty will know that McCoy won't hold that whole bad bedside manner conversation they had the other day against him from now on and he comes back into the room with his medical kit, pleased to see him getting to work as he opens it up. ]

Aye, Mister Kennedy? [Scott drags a chair over to the bed for McCoy, and stands near the foot, looking down curiously.]

[So when Scotty asked him about his "happier place," he didn't mean life, he meant...not life. And Archie had said it was...oh, he'll have to laugh a lot about this later. For now, a perhaps ill-timed joke at the engineer's expense.]

I've a message for you from Venedico Caccianemico. He says he is looking forward to seeing you.

[If Scotty has never read Dante's Inferno, he will never get it.]

[ McCoy looks up from his kit and raises an eyebrow the scotsman questioningly. ]

[And Scotty, in turn, makes one of those "crazy as a cuckoo bird" motions with his finger twirling around one ear--but not so's Kennedy will notice. Hopefully.] Lieutenant Kennedy, erm...thank you. I look forward to seeing him as well.

[And now Archie is chuckling--weakly, but clearly with ill intent.]

Perhaps you know his sister as well?

[Venedico Caccianemico was a man sent to Hell for being a pimp. The woman he pimped? His sister.]

[ flashing a grin at the motion from his crew mate, McCoy sits himself down on the chair Scotty pulled out for him and begins the process of treating the man, taking advantage of the distraction of two men exchanging witty banter. he won't involve himself in this battle wits; it's obvious he has his money on the newcomer coming out victorious. ]

[Well now the haggis is in the fire and no mistake, but Scott tries to rise to the occasion, beginning to understand that at least on some level he is being baited, but not quite sure how.]

Erm...not sure I know the lady at all well, sir. I've been on a block of ice for three years with a little man who looks like a spinach. Though give her my regards, aye?

Oh, you wouldn't have to know her well. I believe the trick is to know her brother. Otherwise...well. Otherwise, you'd only have the block of ice to cool you down.

Come to think of it, it's probably good for your sake that you spent so much time in the cold, though it might not be best if you got used to it.

[Yeah, he's waking up a little.]

[ this looks promising. ]

Remind me to tell Keenser you said that when we get back.

[Scotty, for his part, thinks you've all gone mad.]

You've all gone mad.

[Archie, distracted suddenly by a burning sensation all over, starts to squirm uncomfortably. After a second, he pulls the covers off, sits up, and touches a hand to his abdomen, still shivering. He's just remembered exactly how mad and impossible all this really is.]

Dr. Clive? Am I still dying?

[A little disoriented, obviously, but still relatively calm.]

You're talking, so you tell me.

Here, I'll be the Bedside Manner, since his is clearly missing: you're not dying, young Kennedy. In fact, it's difficult to stay dead around here for more than a week or so, actually. We're all in the semi-immortality boat together, with not an oar to our names.

[Archie barely seems to hear either speaker, although he does. He flops back on the pillow, and both doctor and engineer have the uncertain pleasure of seeing the man utterly lost to panic for exactly three breaths. Then, he swallows, closes his eyes, and lets the standing tears run down either temple. His face evens out, as does his breathing. After a second, he scrabbles to cover himself again with the blankets.]

Right. Th-this is my second chance, isn't it?

[He gives a bitter but genuine laugh and goes back to shivering quietly.]

One Bell: [Written/Accidental Video] No Gallows Can Touch Me

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Oh THANKS for the vote of confidence, McCoy : |

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