simplestgift | Eighteen Bells: [ACTION/WRITTEN]

[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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Don't sigh. Or make that face. I'm the one who should be sighing and making faces. I'm the one who's vertically challenged.

[ deft fingers flick away a fold of clothing and snag on the chain. ]

[He's favoring one knee, even resting one hand on the ground.] Just do it.

[ a tug. a yank. a twist.

buffy leans forward, inspecting the chain. ] That's not right...

[ she wraps her fingers more tightly in the metal and hauls yet again. ] Huh.

[The chain is short, too short to slip over his head, so he occasionally moves with her to keep from choking. He is not encouraged by her struggles, but stays quiet.]

...I've got some bad news.

[ she sounds rather frustrated. ]

No-no! I understand. If the world is to have a laugh at my expense again, it might as well be for something silly.

[There's an edge to his jovial tone.]

...It's gotta be enchanted. It has to be.

[ a bit of a growl. she doesn't like losing -- even to little bells on chains.

she steps back -- he can stand up, now. ]

[He does.] It couldn't possibly be that the chain is simply too strong?

I bend jail bars like pipe cleaners and rifle barrels like paper-clips. If it's too strong? Then it's too strong for some unnatural reason.

[ or so she wants to believe. ]

[He scratches under the chain, letting out a breath.]

Of course it is.

[A pause, as he suddenly realizes he's hungry. And tired. Perhaps they didn't feed him while he was gone. It's suddenly more unnerving than ever, the fact that he remembers nothing.]