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smaidjor · 3 years

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and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 1)

Hey guys! Welcome to another angsty fic by yours truly, provider of flower husbands pain.

Some things you should know before you jump into this:

1. This is a companion fic to my fic "i know they're losing". You can understand it without having read the other one, since it's the same story from two different POVs but I think the overall experience is better with both!

2. The overall title of each fic is from the mitski song I bet on losing dogs. Chapter titles are from the Last Goodbye from the Hobbit films.

3. There is a lot of lord of the rings lore in both fics, and I mean a lot. You may be kinda confused if you've never read tolkien's works. It will all be explained eventually, though!

4. With the fact that it's a companion fic and a lot of people came here from Jimmy's POV in mind- this is a lot heavier of a fic. The content warnings are heavier and the angst is more intense. You have been warned.

(Obligatory disclaimer that this is about characters, not ccs, and do not ship real people, as always!)

Chapter Title: to these memories i will hold

Chapter Wordcount: 4000

Content warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-esteem issues, panic attacks, past death, very frank discussion of death. (In general, if suicide or death are triggering topics for you, this is probably not the fic for you. Stay safe and take care of yourself!)

AO3

Actual fic under the cut:

Scott didn’t expect to survive 3rd life. No one did, he thinks, but especially not him. Clever, clever Scott, who knew his fate too well for his own good. He could have chosen his allies carefully, he knows, could have played on their emotions to make them think he was loyal until the moment he turned on them to win. He knew who the strongest factions and warriors were, the most cunning and intelligent participants in this death game they were forced into. Instead, he chose Jimmy. Sweet, dopey Jimmy, who had the personality of a golden retriever and only a handful of braincells at any given time. Jimmy, who was worth more than all the stars in the sky to him. Who made him feel alive . No, Scott didn’t expect to win. Not when it was Jimmy by his side- when it was Jimmy by his side, winning didn’t matter. All that mattered was Jimmy’s blush when Scott pressed a kiss to his cheek, the way his hair looked like gold in the sunlight and his smile lit up Scott’s whole world.

After Jimmy died, Scott stopped wanting to survive 3rd life. What was the point? The stars can shine on without the sun, but all life on Earth would wither and die. The same happened to Scott’s broken, bitter heart, he found. Jimmy was the first person in years to love him truly, wholly, with no strings attached; it was terrifying how quickly Scott fell for the first person to look at him and not expect him to be anything but what he was. Scott’s world, which used to be mountain peaks and endless blue sky, narrowed to warm brown eyes and a grin like sunshine quicker than he could comprehend. Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, it all came back to him. What was Scott without Jimmy? The unwanted twin, the unloved child, the un-elven elf. Because who cared if he was a good shot with a bow or good at organizing teams or building pretty little houses? He would always be second-born, second-best.

It was fitting, really, that when Scott died, he died alone. Some might find it ironic that the man who knew enough people to fill the roster of a championship held by a god every month died without a single person to witness it save his enemies, but in the end, it was always going to be like this, Scott knew. He hadn’t been there to see Jimmy die, he hadn’t been able to hold him in his final moments and soothe the agony of death. Maybe this was his punishment. He wouldn’t be surprised; the gods of this world did not smile on him and never would. Why should they, when he had failed the only person who had ever found him good enough?

When he woke up in Rivendell, he was almost disappointed. Almost. He considered ditching the rest of the elves, up and leaving to somewhere that didn’t make it feel like the noose of immortality was slowly tightening around his neck. If nothing else, Noxite would let him crash at the MCC server for a bit until he found somewhere to go. And yet, in the end, Scott’s stubborn sense of duty won out. The elves needed a ruler. Xornoth had disappeared to god knows where, and though they had been braver, wiser, better in every way, Scott was the one who had stayed. Who was willing to take up the crown that weighed so heavily on its bearers. So Scott, who no one ever expected to rule, took up the burden of leadership.

Now, he tries and fails to get out of bed and wonders what the point of that even was. He’s fading, and worse than that, he’s fading over a human. His ancestors are probably rolling in their graves. Rivendell will be leaderless within a decade, and this time there are no heirs to take control. Not even a ‘spare’ like Scott used to be. What a mess.

There are footsteps on the stairs. They’re unfamiliar, meaning they could be a threat, but he’s too tired to bother sitting up. If he dies, well- it’s inevitable, really, in the same way watching the mortals he loves dies is.

The person comes around the corner, and Scott realizes with no joy that he won’t be dying today after all. Katherine looks both curious and concerned, but her voice tilts towards the latter when she asks “Scott?” and then, more hesitantly “Lord Smajor?”

He blinks at her, exhausted. “Hi, Katherine.”

“I came to talk to you about some empires stuff, but, I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back later…?” She sounds so thrown off by his state that Scott almost feels bad.

Whatever it is, it must be important if she’s come all the way here, though, so he gestures her to a chair. “No, no, stay. I can muster the energy for a meeting, just don’t ask me to get up.”

Katherine takes the seat. “I came to talk about the corruption on the server, but- are you okay? Are you sick?”

Nothing about the question is funny in any way, but Scott laughs regardless. “In a way, yes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my hand.” He offers it out, knowing the unnatural cold is unsettling no matter if you’re elven or not. Katherine does as he asks, the concern on her face only growing as she grips his icy hand.

“Elves don’t get sick like mortals do,” Scott explains. “Nor do we die of old age. But we get...heartsickness, you might call it. We call it fading in our tongue- the cold hands are a symptom of that. Our souls are fragile, and the grief of the mortal plane can be overwhelming. If an elf is too struck by it, they fade away and die.” The words taste bitter on his tongue, a frank reminder of the slow and painful death that awaits him.

Katherine gasps, and Scott knows he’s alarmed her.

He goes on, though. “It usually happens to old elves, world-weary.” Ironic, it’s ironic that he’s saying that as a young elf explaining his own death. “Those who are tired of existence. But any elf who has experienced enough grief is at risk.”

Her face is nothing short of horrified. “You’re- fading? But doesn’t it usually happen to old elves? Wait, are you old?”

“I’m fifty-five.”

“Is that old?”

He has to laugh. “Fifty is the elven equivalent of eighteen for humans, the age of maturity.” Though he feels so much older than that, both in elven terms and in human.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment of silence, then, “How can you be so calm if you’re dying?”

“I’m tired, Katherine. The world tore me away from the people I loved, and..I’m tired of fighting it.” He’s so, so exhausted. So sick of having to claw and scrape and struggle for the barest scraps of happiness.

“Is there a way to reverse fading- to fix it?” Katherine sounds so hopeful that the question seems almost naive even though she’s far more capable of a ruler than he is. Naive in the affairs of elves, maybe, much as she’s intelligent in so many other ways.

Scott tries not to flinch at the innocent inquiry, thinking about the deaths from fading that he’s watched. “Technically, yes. If an elf recovers enough emotionally, it’s reversible. But whatever caused them to fade the first time can- and often does- cause it again.” And again, and again, until there’s nothing to be done but let them die , he finishes in his head.

Katherine nods, a look of determination overtaking the hope. “We’ll just have to reverse it, then.”

“That’s sweet, Katherine, but I’m dying.”

“No. You’re not going to die. Now come on, you can show me your empire while I fill you in on what’s happening on the rest of the continent.” She sounds so firm that he doesn’t dare disobey, though his exhaustion makes a fair effort at convincing him to. Will this really fix anything? Unlikely. But it’s worth it to try, if only to humor Katherine. At least this way she’ll have the comfort of having tried to save him when he inevitably fades away into nothing

Scott takes her hand, though it brings him little warmth, cold from her trek here. “Alright.” He swallows the bitter grief in his throat before it can seep into his words. “We can try.”

He leads Katherine around Rivendell, taking some pride in the way she oohs over the decor. If there’s one thing he can do right, it’s building. While some elven rulers might see it as below themselves to help build houses for their citizens, Scott finds building soothing. It’s one of the few skills he picked up during his time away that people really appreciate; no one wants to live in a shitty house.

As they walk, she also tells Scott about the demon, Xornoth. “The demon’s already visited a lot of people, I think. Gem and Shubble for sure, and Fwhip and Sausage. That’s not even mentioning the corruption that’s been spreading.”

If Scott said that the name Xornoth didn’t make him flinch, he would be lying to himself. It’s not your sibling , he tells himself. It’s just a coincidence .

It’s through the virtue of years of lying that his voice comes out steady. “There’s corruption in Rivendell too. Likely Xornoth’s work. And given that Jimmy still has Vilya-” his heart doesn’t ache when he says Jimmy’s name, it doesn’t- “well, I haven’t been able to do much.”

“Vilya?” Katherine asks.

“A ring of power. My inheritance from the Noldor.”

“Why does Jimmy have it?”

He doesn’t answer. He won’t- can’t talk about Jimmy, not without remembering how he looked with an arrow through his throat, bright smile gone and face frozen in fear. How does he explain how much Jimmy meant to him? How much he’s now giving up, knowing he’ll have to lose it one way or another?

Katherine drops the topic, seemingly sensing that she’s stumbled on something sensitive. When she has to go home, she leaves with a friendly goodbye and a promise to visit, and Scott believes neither. Who would put the effort into visiting him? He’s not a good friend, he’s not a good king, and god knows he’s not a good husband. In fact, he’s actively avoiding his husband. He may have kept the pufferfish Jimmy gave him, but that doesn’t mean anything. He can’t fall in love with Jimmy again. Loving Jimmy will kill him. (Scott ignores the small voice at the back of his head that whispers that he’s still in love with Jimmy and it’s already killing him just as he always knew it would.)

To his surprise, Katherine does come back next week, and the week after that. He’s ashamed to admit it, but there’s some part of him that’s pathetically grateful when she shows up at his doorstep. It’s a chance to not be alone . Much as he dreads the day when she finally gives up on him, it’s nice that someone cares enough to try and save him from himself.

The third week, Katherine doesn’t show up. Instead, the footsteps on the stairs are familiar in a way that makes Scott’s heart twist painfully.

He takes a deep breath. “Hello, Jimmy.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Jimmy asks. Scott can tell he’s startled by the way his voice goes up, almost frightened.

Scott steels himself, taking a deep breath before rolling over to face his ex-husband. “Do you think I could ever forget the sound of your footsteps?” He forces himself to not get distracted staring at Jimmy, instead going on before Jimmy can open his mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Katherine asked me to visit, I’m not sure why, but...here I am. Say, why is she visiting every week?” Jimmy’s so curious. So naive, as always.

Scott laughs, bitter. “Katherine thinks she can save me.”

“Save you from what?”

Scott hears the concern in Jimmy’s words, and he can’t bring himself to break the news. It’s not as if it matters. It’s not as if Jimmy would care; he came here because of Katherine. Maybe he cared at the start of Empires, but Scott’s been nothing but rude to him since. There’s no reason for him to care. (He cares. Scott’s lying, like always. Jimmy cares and Scott knows it.)

“Save you from what?” Jimmy asks again, more insistently.

He refuses to say it. He needs Jimmy out, out of his room and out of his life before he does something he’ll regret. “You should go.” To prove his point, he tries to stand, finding himself too dizzy to quite pull it off. Jimmy rushes to catch him, and Scott hates himself just a little for how that still gives him a warm feeling.

“Scott, what is going on?”

He brushes Jimmy off, letting go of his arm and hurrying for the stairs. He can’t let Jimmy work his way into his heart again; Scott won’t be strong enough to let him go this time.

“Scott, seriously! Answer me, are you okay? What’s happening?” Jimmy sounds almost angry, but Scott can hear the distress under it and that’s what breaks him.

“I’m fading, alright?” His voice nearly breaks at the concern on Jimmy’s face when he whirls to face him. “I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy sputters, seemingly caught off guard. “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords-” Scott thinks back to third life- “from arrows through the throat, from grief.” The words come out more raw than he intends, leaving him scrambling to recover his composure. He takes a deep breath in and out, forcing his voice to steady again. “Come on. If you’re not going to leave, I might as well show you around.”

“You can’t just drop something like that on a man, you know!” Jimmy calls after him, although Scott can hear his footsteps following as well.

“You did ask, to be fair.” Scott replies. His voice is calm. He’s fine.

“I guess so, but- but still, dude.”

Scott pushes open the side door, holding it for Jimmy. “Here.”

Jimmy nods and slips through the door. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Scott starts towards the bridges, intending to show Jimmy the enchanting tower and then the door. He doesn’t care about how fast he’s walking, Jimmy can keep up. He’s taller than Scott and probably has better balance at the moment too. Scott’s struggling not to fall, honestly, but his pride won’t let him go slower.

Jimmy breaks the awkward silence with the question Scott least wants to hear. “So, uh..are we going to talk about 3rd life?”

“No,” Scott says firmly.

“Why not? We need to talk about it some time-”

“I said no .” He can’t talk about it.

“It’s literally killing you to not talk about it!”

The words strike right at the raw wound of Jimmy’s death, and Scott freezes. Inhales. Exhales. Tries to keep calm.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Scott!” Jimmy cries. He sounds so upset, Scott’s heart aches. “I dare you, tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you never cared about me, tell me you didn’t bother to bury me, tell me it didn’t hurt even a little when I died! Tell me I was just stupid little Jimmy, a toy for an elf who’d live far beyond my lifespan! Tell me whatever, just tell me the truth! ”

Scott takes a deep breath. “Fine. You want to know what happened after you died?” He can’t think straight through the rage clouding his head, the desperate need to prove that Jimmy’s wrong , that Scott loved him so much it’s killing him. “You want to hear about me screaming until my throat went raw? You want to know that I kissed your face and sobbed and begged you to wake up, over and over until I couldn’t speak at all? You want to live with the knowledge that Grian had to physically pull me away from your body? Is that what you want to hear, Jimmy? ” His voice damn near breaks on his husband’s name, and Scott thanks the gods he stopped believing in a long time ago that it doesn’t.

“No,” Jimmy says. His voice is soft, gentle, almost as if Scott is a wounded animal that needs a delicate touch. “That’s not what I want to hear, not at all. I’d rather you be happy than love me.”

The words punch the air from Scott’s lungs, raw and soft and real. Scott is an excellent liar. Jimmy isn’t. Scott knows that Jimmy is telling the truth. What he doesn’t know is how to handle that level of devotion. He wonders again how Jimmy- sweet, genuine Jimmy who wears his heart on his sleeve and is hopelessly devoted to an elf who can’t be fully his- chose Scott of all people. Scott, who’s as bitter as Jimmy is sweet, who’s sarcastic and snarky and hasn’t been good enough for just about anything in his life. He certainly wasn’t good enough to save Jimmy, Scott thinks bitterly.

He shakes off the thought. “I buried you on the hill above our houses. I planted a poppy over your grave.”

“Oh.”

“Grian came over the next day. I didn’t want to see anyone who wasn’t you, but I let him in because I had to. He helped me do the straps on my armor and asked me if he could do anything else to make things easier. I told him to bury me next to you.”

“Did he?”

Scott almost laughs at the innocent question. “How would I know? Grian was honorable enough, though, loyal to his allies. I like to think he did.”

“He was a good guy,” Jimmy agrees. “A little bit bloodthirsty, I guess, but good. I don’t suppose he survived any better than the rest of us, though maybe being bloodthirsty helped.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I- can I ask you why you hate me so much now?” Jimmy’s tone is uncertain, hesitant and it hurts . “I mean, if you mourned me in third life and all.”

Scott looks away from his earnest gaze, but he can’t stop the truth slipping out. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” Jimmy asks, seemingly bewildered. “But you burned the pufferfish-”

“I didn’t. I kept it.” Scott doesn’t want to think about this, wants to say it even less. “I never hated you. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”

“I’ve been kind of busy dying,” Scott says wryly, unable to resist a bit of morbid humor at his own expense.

“Scott! That’s not funny!”

“It was a little funny.”

“No!”

Jimmy sounds genuinely distressed, and Scott drops the wry smile. “Jimmy, I’m an elf. I won’t live far beyond you, but only because I’ll fade without you.” It’s a simple statement. The truth, as much as he can give.

“So your solution is to isolate yourself and fade now?” Jimmy’s outrage is justifiable, but Scott just shrugs.

“It does sound stupid when you put it like that, doesn’t it?” It really does. “But I lost you once, and I don’t think I could bear it again.”

A hand lands on Scott’s arm, and he turns, startled. Jimmy doesn’t give him time to react, throwing his arms around Scott and pulling him close. Scott almost lets out a very undignified squeak at the sudden contact, though he slowly relaxes into Jimmy’s hold.

He should pull away. He shouldn’t give Jimmy false hope like this. But Jimmy is so warm , and Scott is so unbearably cold. Every fiber of his being is screaming that this is what’s right; screw Rivendell and obligations and too-heavy crowns, Jimmy is home to him. He’s warm for the first time in months, and the most heartbreaking part is that it can’t last. He can’t do this again.

He pulls away, ignoring the painful hope on Jimmy’s face. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.” For the first time all conversation, his voice well and truly wobbles. “I can’t. Not again.”

“But-”

Scott shakes his head. “Losing you will destroy me. We dared to love, and now all we can do now is lessen the pain when it all comes crashing down.” The words are like glass in his throat, but he forces them out anyways. They have to be said.

Jimmy’s silent, and it hurts more than if Jimmy had yelled at him.

“Goodbye, Jimmy,” Scott manages, turning away before Jimmy can see the way his face twists in pain. He makes his retreat as quickly as possible, stumbling and nearly taking a tumble just before he reaches the door. Unlike before, there’s no helpful ex-husband there to catch him, to make sure he’s alright and ask a million questions until Scott’s forced to admit that he’s not okay and hasn’t been in a long time.

He fumbles with the latch, hands shaking and vision blurring. Finally, it clicks, and Scott stumbles inside and slams the door shut before sliding to the ground. He won’t cry. He won’t . He doesn’t love Jimmy, he can’t love Jimmy anymore. Jimmy was never meant to be his. They might have carved out a few precious moments, stolen them from the universe and giggled like kids with their hands in the cookie jar as they kissed amongst the flowers, but those brief moments were all they were ever going to be allowed. It was always going to end this way, Scott tells himself. There’s no use crying over a mortal who will be dead in the blink of an eye to an elf. What would his parents say? That this was typical of him, probably. Typical Scott, always wanting what he would never be able to have. Typical, predictable Scott, loving a mortal who shouldn’t be worth anything to him.

He’s crying. There are tears spotting his cyan robes, splashing onto the wood floors he worked so hard on. Scott rubs at his eyes furiously, but that only makes it worse, sobs shuddering through him and leaving him hollow and aching. He’s so cold . The ache in his chest has returned tenfold, stealing away his breath, and he curls further into himself, struggling for air.

He’s going to die. He is going to die , alone on the floor of his house because he fell for someone he couldn’t have. For all that he’s spent every minute since Jimmy’s death in 3rd life wishing for some way out of this cruel world, he’s terrified now that it seems inevitable. He’s scared in a way he hasn’t been in forever, breath coming quick and shallow. He's scared, and he is so, so tired of this ache that haunts him, the chill that he can never get rid of.

“Jimmy,” Scott whispers. There’s no way for the human to hear him, but the name brings him some comfort. “ Jimmy .” He wants his husband. He wants someone to hug him. He doesn’t want to fade away freezing and alone, no one there to hold his hand or reassure him that the pain will be over soon. Internally, he begs for someone, anyone who cares to come looking. To find him, even if they’re too late to save him. Someone. Anyone. Please.

No one comes, and Scott lays on his floor until his breathing steadies out again. His head spins when he forces himself to his feet, and he has to lean against the wall for a few moments. There’s no time for dramatics, he tells himself sternly. He has a kingdom to rule. He cannot afford to break over a mortal he never should have fallen for in the first place. He doesn’t love Jimmy anymore, he can’t .

(He’s lying. But Scott has always been an excellent liar, even when it’s to himself.)

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #i maintag my fic because i dont fear god or scott smajor #my writing

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introsquirrel · 6 years

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Much Ado About Monkey Island

so i’ve been playing a lot of Monkey Island recently, because the BEST GAME EVER (Curse of Monkey Island, the 3rd in the series) is FINALLY ON STEAM and i strongly suggest anyone who likes witty puzzle games play it, even if you haven’t played the others because it can stand on its own and it’s all around a really great game with one of my favorite protagonists of all time.

anyway, i replayed Tales of Monkey Island after finishing Curse... in a...day.... any there’s a cut scene after the credits of the last chapter that inspired this mess. THIS IS NOT SPOILER FREE. IT HAS SO MANY SPOILERS. ALL OF THE SPOILERS.

Also this is not a rag on Morgan LeFlay. I love morgan. what a great character!

if you are unfamiliar with this series but still want to read this for some reason, here’s what you need to know: guybrush is stupid and clever and he picks up random things and keeps them in his pants (and coat pockets in the 5th game), lechuck is the series villain and is in love with elaine and has been a ghost and a zombie and a voodoo zombie who kidnaps elaine like all the time, the crossroads is like pirate greek underworld, the voodoo lady does not have a name that we know of

fic can be read here if you don’t like tumblr, and the rest is under the cut

Fic name: Much Ado About Monkey Island Rating: G Fandom: Monkey Island Relationships: Guybrush Threepwood/Elaine Marley, Guybrush Threepwood & Morgan LeFlay Characters: Elaine Marley, Morgan LeFlay, Guybrush Threepwood Warnings: Kind of a love triangle situation, but not really, this is unedited

Elaine Marley Threepwood, Governor of Melee Island, Booty Island, and Plunder Island, part-time pirate, accomplished ambassador, and wife of the legendary (if exasperating) pirate Guybrush Threepwood, took a moment to fully bask in the novelty that was being on the other side of this whole kidnapping business.

Not that it made her any happier about it, but at least she wasn’t the one caged in a weird voodoo trap while some variation of undead suitor proclaimed his love for her. Thank the pirate gods for that. She would probably run herself through if she had to fend off LeChuck again and then her husband might do something stupid like bring her back from the dead, or bind their spirits together, or dig up her grave and cry over her corpse until some bizzaro unlikely miracle happened and she spontaneously came back to life with a list of conditions to her newfound reincarnation.

“Is this how you feel all of the time?” Guybrush asks her, sounding incredulous. “Man, this is annoying and frustrating. I didn’t think it was possible, but my respect for you just raised to a whole new level of awe.”

“Thank you sweetie,” Elaine calls, mostly to shut her dumbass (but endearing!) husband.

“No, seriously!”

“Shut up Guybrush,” Morgan LeFlay says, not taking her eyes off Elaine.

This is probably the most surprising turn of events. Morgan LeFlay is very much dead, according to Guybrush. She is also a “really great person!” according to Guybrush. She is also a competent swordfighter, which Elaine vaguely remembers from issuing her a pox-induced challenge to a fight to the death for Guybrush. And also she helped kill LeChuck once and for all, according to Guybrush. And Morgan LeFlay is known for mostly killing pirates, not kidnapping them and forcing them to marry her. It was distinctly out of character for her (according to Guybrush).

Elaine isn’t certain how it figures in, but she’s 100% sure the Voodoo Lady is involved somehow.

Currently Morgan LeFlay is a ghost pirate hunter, in the corporeal world, with a very much not ghostly ship, holding very much not ghostly objects.

Definitely VooDoo Lady sea scumm happening.

Morgan takes this opportunity monologue, like a true villain. (She must have been taking lessons.) “Look, I know that you’re stupidly gaga over Elaine for some reason-”

“There’s lots of reasons! I have an itemized list!”

He doesn’t, but she’s sure that when they get home he’ll make one and frame it in a public area because he’s that much of an embarrassing romantic. (The thought of it makes her swoon a little bit, but she’ll never admit it in public.)

“-when we had a moment! A really romantic moment! I kind of compared myself to a giant ugly manatee for you so you could understand me better.”

“What? I thought you were just helping me figure out how to seduce a manatee to I could get La Esponja Grande.”

“Well, I mean, that too. It was a metaphor.”

“I think you mean double entendre,” Elaine pipes in.

Morgan growls. “I didn’t ask you!”

“I’m almost positive Elaine made that word up, but i’m also mostly positive that she’s right. She’s right most of the time. All of the time.”

“Shut up about Elaine for five seconds! Geez!”

Elaine unfolds herself from her fighting crouch. “Look, Morgan. I’m sure we can come to some sort of compromise.”

Guybrush squeaks. “I’m not agreeing to be cut in half!”

“Smuggle bunny,” Elaine sings through her teeth, “please zip your trap while the ladies talk, okay?”

“Fine, but I stand by my statement.”

“There is no compromise,” Morgan says. “To get a human form, I need Guybrush. To be happy, I’m pretty sure I’ll need Guybrush. Have you met other pirates around here? Or even other men? They’re disgusting and are either terrified of me or want to tame me. I just want to be me. And human. That’s important too.”

“Of course I’ve met other pirates, why do you think I married Guybrush?”

“Aww,” Guybrush says. “That’s so sweet… I think.”

“And we can work together to get you a human form back. Guybrush talked a lot about you, and you sound like a decent person. I would have let him help you if you asked.”

Morgan stares at her blankly. “He… talked about me?”

“Yes. How you’re a lifelong fan and how you cut off his hand. How he got you to pretend to be his wife. All the things you helped him with in at the Crossroads. I’d be jealous except he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that you had a crush on him.”

Guybrush yells, “Wait, you what?”

“See?”

Morgan looks devastated. To Guybrush she says, “Didn’t I tell you? You are stupidly loyal to Elaine, and I respected that about you, but I also hated it. It’s so unfair!”

“Oh, Morgan.”

Elaine considers for a moment. “We’ll both help you get your human form back. On two conditions.”

“Is one of them not cutting me in half?”

“What are the conditions,” Morgan asks, studiously ignoring Guybrush like a pro.

“One,” Elaine holds up a finger, “whatever the Voodoo Lady is setting you up to do here with marrying Guybrush, it has to stop. We’re married and neither of us wants that to change. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

Morgan does not look happy, but she doesn’t protest outright so Elaine decides to take that as a good sign. And also pretty much confirmation the VooDoo Lady is involved. Figures.

“Two, when doing whatever weird side quests you will inevitably get yourself into, you take me along.”

“What?!” Morgan yells.

“Oh, this can’t be good,” Guybrush says.

“I’m saying this because Guybrush runs off all the time and he works best by himself most of those times. But with all his stories about you, you seem like an accomplished woman and Davey Jones knows that we need more of those around here. I’d like us to be allies.”

Guybrush does a little dance. “Yeah! You’d both make a super intelligent and an utterly terrifyingly competent team! Okay, actually, hm. That is a little too terrifying. Especially for me.”

Morgan, on the other hand, looks a little dumbfounded. “Allies?”

“Yes. As a bonus you can hang around my stupidly clever husband to your heart’s content, but just know that he’s just as crude and idiotic as any other given pirate, just with far more charm attached.”

Guybrush is muttering to himself (or some unknown audience, he does that sometimes) while Morgan frowns and thinks about the deal.

“... Okay,” she finally says. “Okay, I’ll team up with you and try to become your ally. I heard you’re a governess right?”

“Governor, technically. Guybrush is the governess.”

“I am?”

“Governor, then. Can you teach me how to lead people without terrifying them beyond belief?”

“She might still be figuring that one out,” Guybrush says.

“Oh absolutely,” Elaine smiles, and purposely makes it ambiguous who she was answering. She sheathes her sword. “Now that that’s out of the way, release Guybrush and we can talk business.”

“Oh, um, about that.”

Elaine blinks at Morgan, in suspicion. “What.”

“He wasn’t meant to be captured there. That cage wasn’t finished yet and I didn’t add a way to open it yet. So he’s… kind of trapped in there.”

“Oh no,” Guybrush yells. “I can’t pillage and plunder while trapped in a box! I can’t scavenge the seven seas while caged like a wild animal! I can’t even use the bathroom without the rest of the ship bearing witness! This is the worst.”

“Well,” Elaine smiles. “Let’s take a look at that voodoo spell and see if we can’t Guybrush some solution together.”

“Ha!” Morgan says, also smiling, and digs out the spell from her boot. (How…?) “I guess this is our first quest together, Governor Threepwood.”

“I suppose it is, Pirate Huntress LeFlay.” They share a smile, before Elaine turns to her husband. “Honeylumps, I’m going to need you to empty your pockets and your pants.”

“In public?”

Morgan shrieks, “You need him to what?!”

#toro writing #monkey island #tales of monkey island #guybrush threepwood #elaine marley #morgan leflay #spoilers for ToMI #ToMI #fanfiction #i can't believe i wrote this #also congrats this is the first completed fic i've posted in a long time #i have another one actually but it's super unedited to meeehhhh #anyway have at it yall #i just really wanted morgan and elaine to be friends because they both kick ass #they could rag on guybrush while simultaneously liking him #because guybrush is like hey is elaine okay? *sees elaine killing a hoard of pirates* oh my god she's gorgeous #what a bunch of nerds

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the-fitsquad · 6 years

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Pc Workstations

Microsoft Reveals New Windows ten Workstations Edition For Power Customers

Find the ideal Engineering CAD Software program for your business. Its motherboard also supports up to two Xeon CPUs for a total of 56 cores (28 cores every single), and dual NVIDIA Quadro graphics card. Developed by Autodesk, Maya is a skilled-grade 3D modeling and graphics computer software. The Indigo Magic graphical user environment blends the simplicity of a familiar icon-driven interface with the power of UNIX. The Precision Tower 7810 is a very impressive workstation that delivers drastically much more functionality than its Ivy Bridge-based predecessor even though retaining the many configuration options necessary to take complete benefit of the additional CPU muscle. These also feature a 1TB 7200 rpm tough drive and a SuperMulti DVD optical drive, ship with preloaded Windows 7 64-bit, and consist of a Windows 10 Pro 64-bit license.

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#KelsusIT.com – Refurbished laptops #desktop computers #servers

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