Day 50: Cafeteria (Brunch)

[selfrescuer.livejournal.com]

Somehow, after their talk in the chapel, Elaine felt simultaneously more accepting of and more irritated by her future husband. On the one hand, seven years had clearly been good to him. He seemed more sincere and thoughtful than he had been before his disappearance, and he had a more mature (dare she say, handsome?) look to him. On the other hand, there were clearly some things that made even time throw up its hands in vain and say, "To hell with this!" Guybrush was still inexorably prone to disastrous accidents if the story about the Pox of LeChuck was anything to go by, and he was so obviously keeping something important from her that any passing dolt in the Institute would have been able to tell. In the end, that eternal underlying sweetness of his that won out, keeping her from punching him again, at least. That was only by a hairs width, though. Her snugglecakes was going to have to stay on his best behaviour if he knew what was good for him.

She left the Mighty Pirate™ alone for the time being when the announcement of the next shift went off. He would want some time to catch up with Morgan next, presumably. As much as the woman's attitude bothered her, she was a friend of Guybrush's, as she had claimed. Elaine could be strict, but she wasn't the kind of shrewish future wife/past fiancé who would keep her man from seeing his friends. Besides, she needed some more time to catch up on the goings-on of the Institute. Patients filled the building to the brim, now, it seemed; there would be a lot to investigate.

After a few quick trips back and forth to the bulletin and a few new leads to follow up on, the governor gave in to her nurse's persistent nagging and headed to the cafeteria for brunch. After the relatively light fare of the day before, Elaine took advantage of the Institute's admittedly scrumptious offerings and loaded up a full, balanced brunchfast of eggs, sausage links, waffles, and vegetable soup. As expected, the selection of drinks did not offer either root beer or grog. Grog she could live without, at least, she thought while making a face. Eugh. For now, she settled for a tall glass of water.

Elaine settled into a seat in the cafeteria and tucked into her meal. Her eyes didn't stay on her food, though, instead gazing around restlessly; she hadn't seen LeChuck so far this morning, and god forbid he wanted to invite himself to brunch with her if he chose now to show up. A certain horribly unpleasant dinner on Mêlée Island came to mind. She was prepared to either move at the first sign of the dread pirate or signal a random stranger to sit with her before he could.

[For Dean]

Comments

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

Mele turned her head, and for a second thought she was talking to the guy with the tattoo on his head. Ah— no, this was pretty much completely different. She knew other people who ate differently from the rest, come to think of it. More importantly— "Where would you get the weapons?"

The scalpel she'd found definitely wouldn't be able to do much, and it was a few nights ago, to boot. Though that was probably what he meant when he said it wouldn't be effective. Speaking of nights, "Nothing," she replied. "Walk out, wake up." Might have something to do with energy level, but collapsing from exhaustion just didn't feel that way.

"I'm guessing that wasn't the case with you?" There went another thing she had to keep track of.

[bprd-fishman.livejournal.com]

"Ah, you missed the fun." Abe set aside his eggs and moved on to the vegetables. He'd set up a small pile of shredded lettuce and carefully picked through it as if he was eating potato chips. "Landel seems to have turned the doorways into some sort of portals or teleportation devices. I stepped through one and wound up in quite a different place--first a store in Doyleton, and then one of the kitchens. As I understand it, the situation was facility-wide, and quite dizzying." He popped another slice in his mouth, sucking the slight grease of the eggs from his fingers.

"As for weaponry, it seems to be happenstance and makeshift. My current armory consists of a baseball bat."

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

That did sound fun. And, unlike the somehow special Sundays, it didn't seem to be something that happened often. At least, assuming it hadn't happened last Sunday, too. What had she been doing last Sunday night? Ugh, last Sunday, she hadn't even known it was a Sunday. That was good-bye to keeping track, unless she could make notches on the wall or something. "Any idea why he did it, or was it another one of the mindgames?"

Mele rested her chin on her palm, then changed her mind and straightened (looking at this guy was making her feel shorter and shorter). What did 'happenstance' even mean? At least the last part was easy to understand. "My roommate uses the pole from the wardrobe." Only occasionally, it seemed, but pfft, nitpicking. "If we all grabbed one, we could take the nurses."