happilyeverbeginning | And I’ll face all the evils that our love will surely bring [scrooge x magica]

Entry tags:

And I’ll face all the evils that our love will surely bring [scrooge x magica]

Experimental spells were called that for good reason - they weren't things one did without fully knowing and understand its powers. But Magica was many things when she had screamed that incantation - narcissistic and desperate, to start with. It turned out being all-powerful meant nothing when you weren't all-knowing, and the spell had backfired spectacularly. It was a sheer miracle she'd come out of unharmed... for the most part.

The injuries to her body looked worse than they really were, and given her magic, they'd heal quickly. The real issue was her head, as she hadn't woken up in days. Finally, mercifully, she began to wake up, though that in of itself felt like a long, painful process. It hurt just to open her eyes, and thus took her several attempts, the light in the room giving her a headache. She struggled, keeping at it, moaning quietly, her vision initially blurry.

When she could finally make her surroundings - or at least the ceiling, as she still didn't have the strength to move her head just yet - she didn't recognize it. This wasn't where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be...

... Ah. Hm. Uh.

"Where... am I?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Technically, they were on a first name basis...though typically she called him "Scroogie". It was almost strange to hear his actual name passing through her beak.

"To be honest, I don't know," he admitted. "You never talked to me about your personal life or your family. I knew you lived somewhere in this area, but I didn't know where exactly." He paused. "I still don't."

And she was going to need at least one change of clothing if this didn't wear off soon.

...No good deed went unpunished, apparently.

... Wait a minute.

Her eyes flashed open, trying and failing not to glare at him. It wasn't his fault, but...

"Where am I supposed to go?! If I don't have a home or anyone to rely on, what am I supposed to do until my memories come back?!" And that was if they came back - an idea so frightening she tried not to entertain it too much. She shoved the ice pack off, running her hands down her dress to be sure - yep, not a single coin to her name, just the clothes on her back.

Strangely, the idea of missing loved ones didn't exactly bother her. It was more the idea of not having a purpose that scared her.

"Settle down, lass, before you hurt yourself," Scrooge told her sternly. "For right now, you can stay here though I imagine we'll have to go--ugh--shopping for a few necessities. I'll be staying here for the next three weeks, so it's not like you're getting thrown out on the street."

He tapped his foot.

"If you don't get better by then, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. However, I won't leave you out in the cold. You've got my word which is as good as gold."

Edited 2018-10-06 23:13 (UTC)

Easy for him to say, he wasn't the one who lost everything! He had somewhere to return to, he knew what he was doing! ... But it was more like she wanted to be mad at him - and couldn't. He was being unreasonably nice, suspiciously so. Even if they were friends, was this normal?

Magica didn't have much in ways of friendship even before she lost her memories. So, in whole, she was clueless and confused. What was with this man? Did he care about her that much, or was he just that naively nice?

She turned over again to study him in the dark, eyebrow raised. "And what do you get out of this?" And why did shopping leave a bad taste in his mouth?

"Quite frankly, I get the satisfaction of not having your suffering on my conscience. I've got enough weighing it down, thanks."

So. Nice it was. Way too nice. It was the sort of kindness that surely would do him in, if he wasn't careful. If they weren't allies, would he have taken in any stranger? And would that be the end of him someday?

What a strange man.

"I must be some confidant." Especially for him to say the latter matter. "I feel like I'm learning more about you than myself."

Likely that would be the end of him someday. Scrooge had a soft spot for hard luck cases when it came to people who actually tried to make their way in life but one thing or another held them back. A good portion of the crazies in the Bin were such people that he'd decided to take a chance on and invest in because he saw something valuable in them, and he'd been paid back rather richly for it in not just profits but their loyalty.

Scrooge snorted. "I'll leave you to get some rest. Don't forget the ice."

"Yes, mother." Immature, yes, but sass begets sass. She put the ice pack back on her forehead, and closed her eyes, moving to her back. Maybe a good rest with some pills and magic would get her back to normal, whatever it was.

But when she was normal, she'd have to pay him back somehow. How, she wasn't sure, but she'd find a way. For all she knew, he saved her life. There had to be a way to thank him, or at least make sure he didn't regret what he'd done.

As she began to relax, she decided to entertain a silly thought - maybe he saved her hoping to get some tail. It was incredibly unlikely, but there was no harm in a little daydreaming.

It was probably for the best that Scrooge had no idea what she was daydreaming about. He probably would've choked on his own spit.

As it was, he retreated to the study. Unlike the blueprints, the study, annoyingly, didn't have a proper desk to work at. Instead, it had a sofa with one end elongated as a lounger. It served as a reading room plus as an extra TV room...as if there weren't enough televisions in the suite.

He stretched out on the sofa with some of the reports he'd brought along to read in-depth. Extended business trips had replaced adventures during those ten years apart from his family, reminding him of those early years when one couldn't just hop on a plane to go to another state for the afternoon. At least being in the area so long would let him get some solid work done...assuming an amnesiac Magica didn't give him too much of a headache.

Ugh. What was he going to do with her if she didn't have her memory back by the time he was supposed to leave? Three weeks was a long time, but suppose she hadn't recovered by then? Then what? Take her back to Duckburg with him?

He really hadn't though this through...

Hours passed, and eventually Magica woke up again - without her constant fussing, her magic was allowed to work its course, fixing all wounds internally and externally. Because of that, she felt much better when she opened her eyes, fresh energy coursing throughout her body. And... no memories recovered.

Dang.

At least Scrooge had been quiet enough for her to rest, considerate man he was. Putting the ice pack aside on a drawer, she slid out of bed, stretching a bit. If Scrooge couldn't answer all her questions, she could at least learn some things for herself. To start with, she began to scrounge around the room for a mirror. Might as well see if the face was as good as the body - her ego was still alive, memories or not.

This was probably going to cause some noise.

Scrooge was still in the study though he'd taken some time to brew himself a pot of tea. Chai tea, not nutmeg, because nutmeg tea had to be special-ordered because some idiots got themselves killed by drinking too much.

But he wasn't bitter. Not at all.

Still, he had some form of spiced tea and a financial report. What more could a man ask for?

Maybe some peace and quiet.

"A room this big doesn't have one blasted mirror?!" Magica could be heard shouting from the room over, while also fussing to try and find a light - she had stubbed her foot once or twice.

Scrooge jumped despite being in a lounging position. He then gave a flat look at the wall before getting up and knocking on her door.

"Are you decent?" he called.

"Of course I am." Although come to think of it, she probably could use a bath eventually. Bah, that could wait. Maybe there was magic to skip baths. Why couldn't she remember one single spell?

"I just want to know what I look like!"

Scrooge entered the room and walked over to her, mutely taking her by the elbow and leading her into the monstrous closet that led to the private bathroom. He then turned her by her shoulders so she could see herself in the full-length mirror that had been helpfully placed there.

He could have just said where it was, the old fuddy-duddy. He really was too good for himself, how did he get to this age being so sweet? Maybe he was incredibly lucky as well.

Speaking of luck, when she finally saw herself...

Hot damn.

"Hm!" She turned this way and that to get all the angles, pleased, running a hand through her hair. "Not bad, not bad at all... I guess I should be used to turning heads whenever I go out." Ever so humble.

Well, apparently her ego was still in-tact. Hooray.

He glanced around the empty closet, grimacing. Boy, he hoped she didn't get it into her head to fill it up.

"You do have a tendency to attract a lot of attention."

Just not for the right reasons. Though maybe now that she had to more or less live like a normal person until her magic and memory were back would fix that.

Magica took the compliment with a smirk, lightly poking his beak. "Careful, I might assume it's flattery instead of the truth."

Why not have some fun with her benefactor? "And I'm feeling much better, thank you for asking. It's like nothing happened at all..." Pause. "... Aside from my memories being gone and all."

"Probably your magic at work healing you up though I wonder why it didn't work while you were unconscious," Scrooge said, putting a hand to his chin. "Though given the circumstances, it's not as if you can tell me.

"And I imagine by now you're starting to get hungry."

Magica shrugged, clueless about her magic as he was. "If we had any idea where I lived, I might be able to pick up some clues." But if neither of them could even guess that, it was pointless to even think about it - unless they could find other people who knew her. Maybe she was a social butterfly? Or an antisocial shut-in? Discovering herself would be an odd journey.

"Well, I can't remember the last time I had a good meal." An attempt at humor.

That actually earned a chuckle.

"I suppose that's simple enough to fix," Scrooge said dryly.

If they went out for a meal, it would be more expensive but they could also do a little bit of shopping. She'd been wearing the same dress for three days.

Ugh, this was going to get expensive.

"Your shoes are by the foot of the bed," he told her. "Might as well kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

"Speaking of which, where are we?" Magica asked she headed to the bed to find her shoes. "I think I still remember most of the world and locations... just not in any relation to me." An off-hand shrug.

"Somma Vesuviana. Italy," Scrooge answered. "While it does have some historical relevance, on the whole it isn't much of a tourist hotspot."

Nor was it really a commercial area though the people here had contacted him to try and pump some life into their stagnant economy. The fact the place sported a luxury hotel at all was practically a joke; the hotel itself was largely empty.

Magica paused, thinking... flicker, flicker... nope, still nothing. How many dead ends were they going to run into?

"Then what are you doing here? Is it because of me?" Did she call him out here for the spell, or had she tracked him down?

Scrooge shook his head. "No, I was asked to come here by the mayor. He thinks I should invest in the town. The trouble is that there isn't really much here for tourism dollars like he seems to think there is." The old man snorted. "Idiot seems to think his one villa will make this place the next Pompeii. It doesn't help there's this lavish place sitting around with no one to fill its rooms."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject