Night 51: M-C Block Hallway

[vstheworld]

[From here]

Now where had Knives said her room was? Scott reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the crumpled napkin she had written the number on at breakfast. F30. Okay. Assuming the girls' block worked the same way the guys' one did and wasn't some alternate dimensional maze that only people with boobs (twitch) would understand, Scott was pretty sure he could find the right room. 

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[threepwood]

[From here.]

"Oh yeah, and I had a visitor," Guybrush continued as he followed Morgan into the next hallway, a shudder already running through him as they neared the bathroom. "It was definitely Stan, but this weird doppelganger version of him that's an attorney for the guy I'm supposed to be, according to the nurses. Apparently, Brian Moriarty- A.K.A. yours truly- has some issues with stalking and kleptomania." He shook his head at the thought. What outrageous allegations would the institution staff come up with next?

They were near the hall with his room- he considered claiming he'd left something behind and would run and get it while she fetched the pipes, but he had a feeling that wouldn't fly, given her earlier attitude. He was just going to have to face his fears. It hadn't worked so well earlier, but this was round two.

[fangirlfatale.livejournal.com]

Morgan was following along, nodding seriously, until-- "LeChuck's Pocket Parrot?!" Oh, eww! The only thing that stopped her from clamping a hand over her mouth was that she didn't have any free. She managed--barely, and probably only because of her professionally-honed physical prowess (not to mention her sea legs)--to swallow the nausea welling up in her throat. "Now that was a mental image I didn't need," she told Guybrush once she'd recovered her equilibrium. "Why were you in the showers with LeChuck?" She'd gotten in and out as quickly as possible. Leaving yourself naked and unarmed for a prolonged period of time around that many people was just asking for trouble.

Thankfully, Guybrush had shifted topics by the time they got into the next hallway (also sparsely populated by non-piratical, non-threatening-looking individuals). "Stan? The 'Trial of the Century-y-y' guy? Why would he come to see you?" Morgan wanted to know. "And how'd he get here? Does he have a ship?" If they could find him again, he might be their ride out of here. Not that he'd cooperate for free, from what she knew about him, but Morgan's negotiating skills were second to none. Especially once she got hold of a good sword again.

[threepwood]

"Hey, LeChuck came up to me," Guybrush said in a stern tone. He was not about to let it go down in the books that he willingly stood next to the infamous dread pirate and his 8th Wonder of the World as he lathered his beard in a steamy shower. The last thing he needed was to find an embellished version of the scene retold in one of Elaine's trashy novels. Guybrush and LeChuck: A Tale of Men and Masts didn't settle well with him.

Speaking of things not settling in the pit of his stomach, the bathroom door was in sight. Guybrush dragged his feet as he stayed a step behind Morgan, the proximity literally weighing on him.

"I figured Stan came to see me because I owed him money or he had a new scheme up his plaid sleeves, but he claimed he wasn't the same guy at all. He said Brian Moriarty had a lot of legal issues and was looking for an insanity defense for his case. I have no idea how he got here, since he spent the whole time lecturing me on how I wasn't Guybrush Threepwood and something about a restraining order against Elaine and a lengthy sales pitch about how 'stealing isn't considered conducive to society.' You've seen him! It all gets muddled after a few minutes. Remind me if you ever want one of his business cards. They're as tacky as you'd expect from him. Or the not him. Whichever he is."

Guybrush stopped at the bathroom door. "I don't think he's going to be able to help us. Either he's only pretending to go along with the whole 'We're all crazy and not who we think we are' plot, or he's been brainwashed somehow. Or maybe pretending to be a court-appointed attorney named Stanley to trick kidnapped patients in a spooky asylum is his latest job. He does have a knack for learning new skills."

[fangirlfatale.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, you're right. I don't think Stan would go along with all this willingly unless there was money to be made, and we can't pay him for anything as long as we're stuck in here with our stuff confiscated. So if he didn't give you any help, either whoever's behind this either forced him into it, or they've got enough pieces o' eight to sink a galleon. Either way, they're dangerous." That was Morgan's professional analysis, anyway. Too bad it wasn't anything they didn't already know. "Did he say anything that might actually be useful? Anything about DeSinge?" she asked hopefully, but her money was on no. Even if he had, Guybrush probably hadn't been taking the hints. He was good at that.

She wasn't exactly sure where the men's bathrooms were, but Guybrush had stopped outside a door a few paces behind her, and it was at the same point in this hallway as the women's bathroom was in hers. "Time to collect," she announced energetically as she moved past him and through the doorway.

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