Welcome to Purgatory

[Archie woke up yesterday.  How is this new?  Well, after getting some fairly critical stab wounds from Grell, he was put on a ventilator and kept under sedation for a few days.  The ventilator was exchanged for a less impressive-looking concentrator yesterday and he was taken off sedation.  He spent yesterday sleeping anyway, since anesthesia doesn't generally leave you bright-eyed immediately afterward.

This morning, he is talking and eating Jell-o, which is a new experience. The most important bit comes written on the journal network in wobbly handwriting courtesy of the heart monitor clipped on his finger.]

I have been informed that I may have visitors. I'd like to know everyone is all right.

Kennedy

[Anyone who comes in will find him looking predictably weak and pale but lucid and in good spirits, or possibly catnapping after a dose of painkillers.

OOC: Purely for the sake of mercy, Archie is unaffected by the event.]

[So camping did not turn out bad. In fact, Archie really had a great time the second day, after he got used to sleeping outside without one eye open. And not actually being the designated Camp Guard, a duty he'd taken on himself without being asked. When he returns home, he hasn't showered in two days--not a huge concern for him, usually, but since he hadn't had the chance to pack extra shirts, he's feeling really grungy--and is fairly certain he will sleep like a rock tonight. After a shower, he'll send out a voice message over the journals.]

I apologize to anyone who was worried.  I was out camping for a couple of days.  It's actually better than it sounds, once one gets used to it.  Anyway, seeing as I was given absolutely no notice about this little escape, I left my journal behind and couldn't notify Mister Hornblower.  I apologize for him being utterly ridiculous.  He can be summat like a lost pup without me.  [spoken with the utmost fondness, of course.]

While I was gone, did anyone named Kaji appear in Luceti?  If that is the case, I need to speak with you.

( Filtered to Norrington, 42% unhackable )

Would anyone like to join myself and Mister Hornblower in a game of whist this evening?  I'm sure he doesn't mind being volunteered.  We need four players altogether.  [He doesn't mind playing as long as he's Horatio's partner, really.  It's the only way to win.]

If anyone who has not already volunteered to take part in the comic sketches at the festival would like to do so, please let me know. You do not have to be a student.

To my students, remember, you will be graded based on participation and performance. If you have any questions or need additional help, please let me know.

-Mr. Kennedy

[Filtered to immediate family and their spouses 78%]

I was thinking of cooking something special tomorrow night, if you'd all like to join Jilly and me at our flat. Life has been madness trying to prepare for the festival. It would be refreshing to see everyone. If cooking turns into a complete disaster, we can all meet at Seventh Heaven instead.

That includes you, Kirsi, even if you don't eat.  We should very much like to see you.

[/Filter]

[Filtered to Aerith 78%]

Would you like to meet me for coffee tonight?

[/Filter]

[He'll get out of school earlyish today and be around town in various shops, the library, and pretty much anywhere else within reason.]

[Citizens of Luceti may see Archie Kennedy wandering around with a new hat today. It looks a little like something a magician would pull a rabbit out of, but he seems to be enjoying it. He'll be around town today--the library and grocery store during the day, and Good Spirits in the evening. In the afternoon, he'll sit at the fountain to pen a few words.]

I believe morale might improve if we had some sort of goodbye ceremony for those who were returned home. Not a funeral, mind you, just an occasion to remember them, celebrate their return, and hope to join them soon. Perhaps once a month or so, for everyone who left during the month. It's the little things that help one cope, sometimes.

Also, who left a note under my door? I'm afraid I can't read it, or indeed tell if it was even meant for me. I live in Building One, in the first flat on the first floor.

Doctor McCoy?

[It's Kennedy, and he sounds awful.  It's been a couple of days since he's left his room or contacted anyone over the journals.]

Are you in the clinic at the moment? Fever and aches aren't as much to my liking as I'd first thought. If I die before I make it there, please make sure Captain Jack stays out of my things until I return.