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.
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.