vsyourface
in
damned
Night 59: M81-M90 Hallway
Scott Pilgrim became aware that something was different in Landel's the moment he jumped about five feet in the air at the blaring of klaxons through M85.
No, literally, he jumped five feet in the air. He hit his head on the ceiling and everything.
"Ow! Son of a-! Unff!" Scott came crashing back down to the bed, nearly breaking the frame from ( Read more... )
No, literally, he jumped five feet in the air. He hit his head on the ceiling and everything.
"Ow! Son of a-! Unff!" Scott came crashing back down to the bed, nearly breaking the frame from ( Read more... )
Guybrush didn't even get a farewell out before his roommate tore through his gear and down the hall. He was clearly a man on a mission, one who had things to do and people to see. The pirate could have said the same for himself; still, he took his time as he looked over the room, the pink sheen that covered everything making him curious. "Ever since the intercom went off, this pink stuff has been all over everything," he remarked to no one in particular as he eyed the floor. "Though seeing Scott with his powers back makes me wonder..."
Bee-lining for the bed, Guybrush picked up Elaine's sword. "This is either going to work, or I'm going to have another embarrassing injury to explain to the experienced inspector." In the familiar fashion, one he'd not used since his arrival, he reached behind him and tucked the sword neatly into his pants. The entire blade disappeared from view, as if it wasn't there at all.
He blinked, surprised it worked. Until he'd arrived at Landel's, the mysteries of how he'd kept his expansive inventory all in one set of trousers hadn't been much of a problem. Once without his ability to carry everything he needed all at once, he'd had to juggle the items, choosing which ones he took carefully. Well, no more!
Much like Scott did before him, Guybrush grabbed everything in his closet with little fanfare, mostly out of excitement because he could. Well, that part about grabbing everything wasn't so much like Scott, but he did need his essential gear... which was everything, as far as he was concerned.
Flinging the door open, he made a declaration. "Look out, Landel's! I may not have a fine leather jacket, but Guybrush Threepwood and all his hoarding glory is back!"
[To here.]
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The door opened fast and they tumbled in, with Ramona letting go of Scott as quickly as possible while she made a graceful landing of her own. She looked around the room and quickly found any thoughts she might have had earlier about rooms quickly answered. There wasn't going to be any customization, because even Scott's room was left untouched. Then again, that might be the result of what his roommate wanted, which might have been the case. She noticed he had to have one because there wasn't one messed up covers, but two.
Ramona moved and dragged herself up onto one of the desks and sat with her legs out in front of her. "What do you have for me, Scott?" she asked, not drawing attention to the fact that they were in his room or that this was suddenly having the ingredients of being really awkward. Oh no, she wasn't about to bring attention to that.
But it was definitely there.
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He snapped out of that initial dizziness right around the time the question hit, and Scott peered from his spot on the ground up to where Ramona sat on the desk. Funny. At that angle, elevated above him, surrounded by the faint aura of the force field, she looked kind of like an angel. A very casual one, anyway. And pink. With blue hair. That looked purple in this light... Okay, maybe the angel thing had more to do with how Scott felt about Ramona being back than about how she actually looked. But whatever. That was how he felt, so goddammit, if he wanted Ramona to be an angel, she would be the best angel in the Institute and that was that.*
"What do I... Oh right!" Scott was suddenly glad he was on the ground. His lockbox was still down below the desk, and so all Scott had to do was shimmy up under Ramona's legs to get at it. And that's what he did. His head came toward Ramona at crotch level before ducking down under the desk. He pulled the metal box out of the way, and sure enough, behind it was an extra item, too big to be stored inside. He backed up and rolled the baseball bat across the floor with him, the aluminum rattling across the linoleum.
"Man, I knew I'd find a way to use this thing again someday! This is perfect for you!" said Scott with a grin, lifting the shaft up between Ramona's legs.
[* - Barring presence of actual angels. One never knew.]
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See, in a completely different scenario, Ramona would've seen this as strange innovation for Scott. He gave her that look he always gave her when he realized he was in love with her (or she figured that was what was going on, Ramona was in his head enough to know she preferred the simple explanations) and then him going down like that would've been a nice change of pace. Not that she minded the normal pace because, mediocre and simple as it was, it was enjoyable. She had it figured out. And sometimes, on the very rare occasion, she even got something out of it. On a good month, those occasions were less rare.
But this wasn't that scenario. Scott hadn't suddenly transformed into the James Bond of Canadians-though she was pretty sure he was the closest they had to that, in reality-and this wasn't some sexy scenario where he was about to seduce her. The thing was, she didn't even know how Scott would fit into that scenario, awkward image of him in a tuxedo notwithstanding.
No, this was a scenario like any normal Scott Pilgrim scenario, complete with him digging cluelessly, her staring down at him uncomfortably, and him shoving a large phallic item (the size being a first time thing, of course) up between her legs.
The only thing she could do was stare.
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"What?"
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"Whatever, at least you can bash in some monster brains now if you want to, right?" he reminded her, hefting his own broadsword over his shoulder as he got back to his feet. "Speaking of which, wanna go bash in some monster brains?" With his video-game-y type abilities back and Ramona's "Get Out Of Current Dimension Free" card, Scott was honestly feeling kind of confident about their chances in Landel's right now. At least more confident than he had been following the whole Coliseum thing, anyway.
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"Sure, whatever," she agreed with the sentiment. "You got anywhere in mind? We can probably get there as long as you tell me where to go." Otherwise, it was just a bunch of doors without any idea of the direction. Scott had to know something about this place. After all, he usually made it to work most of the time. That had to count for something.
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Though from the sounds of what Scott was saying, it definitely tried to be that.
Either way, she dropped her flashlight on Scott's desk, carefully held the baseball bat, and grabbed on to him to jerk him into the door with her.
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"How do you know all this crap about the town, anyway? Do they give you freebie Sundays or something when you're on good behavior?" That seemed to be the only viable solution in her head. Otherwise, why would they be let out?
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"Actually yeah," he answered. "Saturdays, I think. - Was it Saturdays? I think it was Saturdays. - Yeah, they give all the patients, like, second-hand clothes and stuff, load them all up on big yellow school buses, and send them off to town like it's a field trip. Brown bag lunches and $5 spending money and everything. It's kind of..." Scott didn't want to admit that it was fun. That was like admitting that Alcatraz was kind of fun because sometimes prisoners got let out into the yard to run around. But it wasn't all bad in Doyleton. It was definitely a nice change from the inside of Landel's, anyway. A bit of a nice change from the big Toronto cityscape, even. With its skinny, quaintly named streets and snow-covered parks, it kind of reminded him of his hometown of _______ in Northern Ontario.
"...Yeah, it's kind of lame," he finished, letting Ramona keep leading him along through the void.
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Then again, Scott was Scott. Sometimes, things just worked out.
"Huh, well, good thing I won't get stuck here on Saturdays!" she decided. "I bet they don't even bother to wash that stuff." That was the priority of the matter. Sure, it was vain, but it wasn't like she wanted to walk around looking like ... well, whatever she'd end up looking like in that. Ramona wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"Though hey, it's a little freedom," she said, reconsidering the fact.
Ramona didn't linger in the thought for long, though, because as set as she was on moving them steadily, the place didn't agree with her. One moment they were walking along with her thinking of how itchy those clothes would probably make her feel, and the next-
[ to here]
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