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

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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?"

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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."

Scrooge invest in the town? He must someone of great renown and wealth, an important figure in the world to drag him somewhere he doesn't even live! Color her impressed.

... Ooh, rich friend. That could be lots of fun. Was she going to get all the finer things in life because they were buddies? Score one for the perks of amnesia! Fancy limos, hearty meals, beautiful dresses, the high life!

She grinned, trying to hide all her excitement by actually paying attention to what was being said. "Well, the people here have to make a living somehow. Not every place in the world has a huge exciting draw."

Boy, was Magica going to be disappointed.

"Aye, they do, but trying to force an industry that their town's ill-suited for is unwise. If they want to draw a crowd, they need to come up with something unique to the town that the tourists can't find elsewhere. Or at least they can't find better versions of in the near vicinity. But, no, the mayor is convinced that they can make themselves into a tourist haven just with that old villa."

Really, it was annoying when people didn't listen to him after they expressly asked for his advice and input.

Magica found herself more invested in the conversation than she expected. She cupped her chin in thought, trying to understand why the mayor was so insistent on that one villa.

"Well, if we don't buy the notion he's just an idiot... the villa may have cost him a fortune to build, so he refuses to believe he wasted his money... or it's connected to him somehow, like in his family. Is there any way you can do some background inspection on when and how the villa was built?"

"Oh, he's certainly an idiot," Scrooge said with a snort.

He almost demanded how she couldn't know about the villa until he remembered that she didn't remember anything. That and she'd been sealed away in the Dime for fifteen years before that.

...Wow, this was going to be awkward when she got her memory back.

"The villa's not actually connected to him directly. It's from the Roman Empire and was buried by Vesuvius's eruption in 472 AD, almost four hundred years after Pompeii was buried alive." He began leading the way towards the private elevator. "He thinks he can cash in on Pompeii's popularity, but compare one reasonably-preserved villa with an entire city in much better state. Which would you want to visit more as a tourist?"

Magica followed and listened, occasionally glancing around to see any more hints of either herself or him. Learning about him was actually fascinating, and he sounded knowledgeable. Clearly he did his research before coming here so he couldn't be swindled.

Maybe he was not as naive as she first thought.

"Unless I was a considerably cheap tourist, you're right. If he's not going to listen to reason, the town will suffer as he throws money down a hole."

"And it's insulting that he thinks I'm going to start shoveling money down that same hole with him," Scrooge said with a sniff of disapproval. He had his pride as a businessman and as a McDuck, after all.

Still, the employees of the hotel were trying desperately to make it work. They worked hard and would've done anything he requested if it might mean a tip. Their mayor was an idiot, but that didn't mean they had to suffer for his gross mismanagement.

Of course, he couldn't just prop everything up out of the goodness of his heart. He wasn't that type of man. However, there was nothing wrong with laying the groundwork for success and being rewarded for his part in it.

The private elevator came and the two stepped inside.

Magica watched him, enjoying this side of him. Maybe the spell she was trying to use was to help him out, or help the town.

"So... what are you doing to do?" She remembered what he had said before she had gotten her proper rest. "Three weeks is a long time to merely ignore an idiot."

"Having a devil of a time trying to figure out an alternative plan or just tell the man to go pound sand," Scrooge admitted. "He's paying for my accommodations. The hotel volunteered the free upgrade as well. If I'd thought it was going to be this unproductive, I would've considered bringing the family." He then glanced at her. "A nephew, three great-nephews, and an honorary niece."

Flicker... flicker... and then dead.

Family man, eh? She took a quick glance at his hand, saw no ring, then went back to his face. Honorary niece? So he was a big softie. He was definitely going to help this town, in that case.

"And then I came along, throwing a wrench in things." But she sounded amused instead of guilty. "Maybe you could use a break from planning it all out."

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