Day 50: Chapel

[full-score.livejournal.com]

The last thing Claude heard was the Head Doctor's voice faintly filtering into the corridors of the ship before he found himself tucked beneath the sheets of his bed. It took a moment to register he'd even changed locations, but then he he abruptly sat up, fought the wave of nausea that washed over him, and felt the blankets beneath his fingers. The room. He was back in his room now. Under different circumstances, he might have wondered if last night had been some horrid dream, but the sharp pain in his eyes gave him a rude awakening. Hissing through his teeth, Claude buried the heels of his palms against his lids, only to discover two cold compresses had been taped over them.

"Good morning, Thomas," he heard the nurse's cheerful voice from beside his bed. Her sudden presence nearly made him jump out of his skin, and he sharply turned toward the source of the greeting, heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well today, but hopefully you can still enjoy some of the activities we have planned."

'Not feeling well' was a bit of an understatement. His hand hurt, his stomach kept turning with every movement, and it felt like someone had dumped a bunch of sand into both eye sockets. Right now, Claude just wanted the nurse to leave him be, but it didn't look like that was an option. Taking his uninjured hand, she gently tugged him out of bed, despite his protests that, no, really, he just wanted to stay in and sleep, please.

"I think getting out of your room a little bit will do you good," she told him. "I'm sorry your eyes are probably hurting, though. If you're ever feeling uncomfortable, don't hesitate to ask one of us for some pills."

"What about eye drops?" Claude asked tightly.

"Oh, no, too much of that could damage your eyes," she cautioned, and the sheer irony of the situation hit Claude so hard that it would have been laughable if he didn't already feel like crying right then. The nurse was as oblivious to it as always, however. "I know you usually go into the chapel during this shift. Would you like to go there again?" Claude didn't answered immediately, but that didn't deter the nurse. "Yes, I think that sounds best..."

In truth, he probably should have requested the sun room -- it was closer, for one, which meant the nurse didn't have to lead him as far of a distance. For another, lying down on one of their sofas sounded like a good option. But by the time Claude came to that conclusion, he was too stubborn to say anything, and he made his way up to the second floor, his footing slow, but steady.

The nurse deposited him on one of the central pews, next to the aisle, before leaving him to himself. Thankfully, it was still early in the shift. As he paused to listen, the room was mostly silent, save for the footsteps and hushed voices of the occasional staff member or patient who trickled in. But it was probably only a matter of time before others came. For some reason, the thought of being stuck in a crowded room made him tense, not necessarily because he thought anyone would pay him any mind, but because he simply didn't want it right then.

Somehow, the full implications of what happened last night hadn't sunken in: experiments, healing himself, the issue of whether he could actually go home after this, not being able to see, the ship, father. Instead, he just felt saturated with all of it, paralyzed by the horror of what they'd done to him, and the uncertainty of what it all meant beyond this moment. Claude took a shuddering breath, uninjured hand balling into a fist in his lap.

[For Guy.]

Comments

[selfrescuer.livejournal.com]

Annnnnnd there went a few of Guybrush's freshly gained points of respect out the window already. The Mighty Pirate™ was clearly keeping something from her. The story as he told it was probably mostly true, but he wouldn't have bitten down on his lip like he were trying to keep the Ark of the Covenant closed if that had been everything. She folded her arms and gave him a look, the kind that said "I know there's something fishy about what you just said, and you'd better tell me what it is before I start withholding certain things from you next" without her having to say a word.

Following that, she did take the effort to spend some words on the part of Guybrush's explanation that actually had interested her further. "And what exactly is this 'Pox of LeChuck'? I know that LeChuck was back and up to something in your time," she said, not entirely sure if she had her tenses correct regarding future events that would have been past events for Guybrush. "I wasn't told what that was, though. How did something like that get started, and what does immortality and this doctor have to do with it?"

[threepwood]

Annnnnnd there was the look Guybrush had been expecting in response to his half-truth. Yes, it looked just as intimidating on pre-marriage Elaine as it did post-marriage. He responded with one of his trademark "Trust Meeee" smiles before changing the subject as per her followup comments.

"The Pox is... a long story." His smile faded as he tried to think of out to summarize his latest adventure while leaving out some of the best parts and still having it correlate with what he'd just told her. "See, LeChuck had kidnapped you again, and so I was going to set him straight with the Legendary Cursed Cutlass of Kaflu, but the Voodoo Lady's recipe was complicated, and I sortofdroppedthespecialrootbeerneededtofinishtherecipe, so I improvised with some root grog and breath mints. It didn't work as expected, though- instead of destroying LeChuck once and for all, it just pushed all the evil Voodooness out of him, which became this airborne pox that started affecting pirates all over the Caribbean: the Pox of LeChuck." He gestured with his hands as he got to the name for dramatic effect.

"Since it was our fault the Pox was unleashed, you wanted to work to get rid of it, but I was one step ahead of you, already looking for La Esponja Grande- a mythical sea sponge that could cure the Pox. Meanwhile, the Marquis De Singe- that creepy doctor I mentioned- wanted to cut off my hand and use it to make some sort of immortality juice, but then decided he'd rather use the strain of the Pox you had. And there was a Vaycaylian wind machine involved, and I was stuck inside a manatee for a while... you know how these things go."

[selfrescuer.livejournal.com]

She did indeed know how these things tended to go. That was why Elaine's expression remained mostly unchanged all through Guybrush's explanation. At least this hair-brained scheme and resulting horrible consequences had been the result of Guybrush trying to do something good, as opposed to something entirely selfish like his search for Big Whoop. Still, that didn't exactly excuse him from unleashing an evil voodoo pox upon the Caribbean. Things like that tended to put people out just a smidge.

She also tilted her head and added a "Seriously?" look in to her expression when Guybrush said it had been their fault - plural. From the sound of things, this situation had been 100% a Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate™ production, written and directed by Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate™ (based on characters created by Ron Gilbert, with very special thanks to George Lucas). Perhaps Future Elaine had become more forgiving of the man and willing to help him get out of his own mess, but she was not Future Elaine yet. She also doubted that Guybrush had been one step ahead of her. If she knew herself, Future Elaine had already run ten steps ahead of that, rounded the bend, then run up to one step behind the man, nearly ready to lap him completely. One of the most frustrating things about being seven years behind everyone else currently was the loss of that familiar feeling of knowing things the others didn't, in fact, and she was keen to get that feeling back as quickly as she could.

"I see I have a wild and fulfilling future ahead of me," she said in a measured tone, leaning back against the pew with her arms still folded. "Well, we'll see if I can avoid getting kidnapped in the first place so that I can help you finish that cutlass properly, then, maybe." That was, if being kidnapped in the first place hadn't been a part of an elaborate plan of hers to begin with. Again, it was stretching things, but it was possible. Best not to suggest that to Guybrush, though, lest he potentially mess up said plan before it even got off the ground.

"Until then, we should work on getting out of here and taking down this Landel to ensure that this never happens to us again. What kind of progress have you made since your arrival?" she asked, hoping the answer wasn't along the lines of "Well, I found this nifty rubber chicken with a pulley in the middle?"

[threepwood]

"Well, I've so far done a lot of walking, joined a club, found a shovel, made a sash to carry said shovel, accidentally stolen a man's sword that I will be returning, met someone claiming to be fictional archaeologist and protagonist of classic games Indiana Jones, been accused of kleptomania by every nurse I've met, and insulted no less than three people. Also, my room caught on fire, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't my fault." He could safely blame that one on De Singe/Landel/De Slandel, assuming Scott wasn't a closet pyromaniac who could create fire by rubbing his slippers together.

Guybrush crossed his arms and tapped his hook on the side of his chin, trying to remember all he'd learned during his three days at Landel's. The list was not nearly as impressive as his accomplishments. "I've really not had a chance to learn much about this place, unfortunately," he said. It'd help if he had better listening skills. He attempted to remember what Javert had told him, now a little keener on the information because it had turned out to be somewhat true. "I know there's a guy named Landel running it, he performs sicko experiments on people, turns the staff into monsters at night, probably has a lot of Voodoo backing him up- this all ties in with my 'The Marquis De Singe is Landel' theory, along with the fact that this place apparently brings people back from the dead for the amusement of the Head Doctor."

That didn't account for Elaine, but he figured she'd fill in the holes in his theory eventually, or rewrite it entirely to make it make sense- one of her many, many talents.