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]

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[scarefaux]

From the corner of his eye, the Scarecrow couldn't help but notice Remy's unusual delight stemming from what he was eating. How strange! Maybe he'd been in the same situation as the former strawman: not human, and incapable of human sensations like taste. The Scarecrow had yet to meet anyone quite like himself; the robotfolk came close, but even they seemed baffled by his existence as a construct. It was more likely that the food Remy was nibbling was something he'd never had before. Experiencing it for the first time was a true joy.

The conversation pulled his interest. "They kill the rats? But why?" the Scarecrow asked, his curiosity marked with genuine concern. He couldn't help but feel sorry for them- he'd had a few living in him at one point in time. He wouldn't want them in there now, but it wasn't much of a problem to just ask them to leave.

[sheisthecause.livejournal.com]

"They can carry disease," Meche explained off-handedly, still finishing off the last of the letters. "And bite, get into your food...but you know, they're not bad animals, really. Some people actually keep them as pets these days."

She drew straight, careful lines for Zz and slid the journal back across the table to Remy. "There! Do you know about capital and lower-case letters? I made one of each. I can tell you the names out loud, or do some explaining if there's anything you don't understand." She knew Remy was literate, so she wasn't positive where the gaps in his knowledge were.

Having finished that, she went back to her brunch and ate quickly to catch up.

[tiny-chef.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, but humans carry disease and can bite and steal food, too. It's not as if rats are anything special in that respect." Remy decided to keep his opinions on the idea of being kept as a pet to himself, although he understood now what it must feel like. Any more talk on the rat topic would probably be too much.

He took the journal back from Meche, and looked over what she'd written out. "The letters? I'll be able to figure it out from here. It was mostly just having them in the right order so I could practice writing for the note board. Thanks, Meche!" It took a little doing to smile at her -- only because of the recent conversational conversation -- but he managed a grateful grin.