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borkthemork · 3 years

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Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

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Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on.

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent.

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep.

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted, letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did.

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock.

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful.

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this.

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #asks #Anonymous #fanfic #this took weeks to write here ya go

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wolfcha1k · 3 years

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Fear Has No Sense, a Fanfic

"What if they're not what I expected?" Ratchet asked her, propping his fist on his chin, contemplating the question once again.

Rivet leaned back on her palms before casting him a little look. "Well, was I what you expected?"

Ratchet has some unfinished questions he needs to get off his chest, who better to understand than his other half of the rift?

Author's Note: Important note, only thing I know about this series is Rift Apart, so kept my horizons very small for this story. Just was a little plot bunny that was nagging me, so I spewed it out. I'm hoping its not too sappy or ends too abruptly, stuff like that, as well as the whole "plz sound like you guys are in character" thing. Lemme know what you think, I love feedback.

She found him sitting on top of his ship outside a good distance away, seeming lost in thought. There was a celebration to be had, it wasn't everyday you saved two worlds and many more in what felt like a few short days. It'd been suspicious when Ratchet had wandered off, passed the fan fair and practically evaporated from the scene. She thought him to be a guy who loved a good party.

If you had asked Rivet she would have thought he'd used that Dimensionator to scurry off somewhere.

But thankfully he hadn't, she was rather done with dimension chasing for a while. Now she just wanted to relax and digest the peace she never thought she could have ever lived to see. It'd cost her an arm quite literally but within her bones she knew she would sacrifice it again to know the world was safe.

She put a hand on her hip, hesitant on interrupting what seemed to be a private moment. Music played muffled behind them from the celebration being had, far too peppy for the mood he seemed to be in. He didn't look sad persay, merely deep and lost in his thoughts, whatever they might be they were clearly making him chase his own tail in circles.

Taking a courageous breath, she took the plunge into the metaphorical rip tide. "Hey!"

His orange head turned to look at her, slowly blinking at her once the surprise wore off. "Oh, uh, hey." The moonlight made Rivet's fur burn silver.

"Yeah, uh, hi." Smooth, she told herself with a strained grin, waving a hand as she gestured at the space next to him. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, knock yourself out," Ratchet replied, shuffling away to make room. Rivet began to climb up, jumping onto the ship to sit down beside him.

Neither said anything, just exchanged a quick smile before glancing away to look at something else. She sometimes wondered how they could both have seamless and awkward conversations all at once. It wasn't like either of them were shy people, so what was it? They were pretty familiar with each other now too, unlike back at their first face to face introduction at Zurkie’s.

Instead of lingering on the nagging thought and joining Ratchet in his wandering mind, she spoke. "Nice night, huh?"

"Yeah, it's great to look at the stars and not see time and space tearing apart for once," he mused, jokingly as he recalled their adventure.

"Yeah, it's a major bummer when the dimensions collapsing on themselves ruins a good full moon," she joked back, smiling.

"Ugh, tell me about it." He shuffled his weight to get more comfortable, drawing his knee up. "I'm not complaining about retirement again anytime soon. Meeting you and Kit was a nice compensation though."

"Are you saying that because you like my company or because I'm another Lombax?" She copied his casual posture a moment, tipping her head to the side coyly.

"Uh… both?" He scratched the fur at his neck absently, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't know, I think I'd still like you even if you were a three eyed frog."

She gave him a look, amused. "You would make for an odd three eyed frog since we gotta match and all, so good thing you and me are Lombaxes."

"Yeah, yeah," he scoffed, large ears flat as he suppressed a snort. "Either way… it's nice not being, yanno, alone."

"Alone is something I know all too well," she told him with empathy highlighting her face and words. Of course, her loneliness had been different from what she imagined his to be like. He gave her a sympathetic look, the starlight reflecting in his gaze. "I never thought I'd actually meet someone like me… uh you?” She made something of a comical face. “It’s a bit over–”

“It's a bit overwhelming, huh?” Ratchet grinned at her when he realized they’d jinxed each other yet again. He suppressed a chuckle best he could but it was all for naught. “I think I owe you a lot of sodas at this point, sorry.”

“I could use the sugar so I’ll take you up on that offer, it's fine,” she joked, rolling her eyes with a huff. “Anyway, It’s been an adjustment period, yeah,” she replied with a sheepish look, grasping her palms together to distract herself. “My first impression wasn’t the most brilliant.”

“At least you knew how to say hi at all,” he teased her. “I didn’t peg you as the shy type.”

“Hey, neither did you!” She started in a firmer tone before it broke off into a more trickling voice. ”I don’t think I would have been able to break the ice if I didn’t have Clank,” she admitted, lifting her palm to scrub it down the back of her neck, embarrassed.

Ratchet still looked at her with a mixture of amusement and fondness. “Am I really that scary?”

“Depends how you define scary,” Rivet replied, giving him something of a knowing look that suddenly made him uncomfortable. She decided now was as good a moment as any, curious of just why he was out here. “So… uh, I’m not the best at this but…”

He sighed, already knowing what was coming when his smile came back in a more somber fashion. “My head won’t shut up,” Ratchet told her, not bothering to deny anything.

“Well, there is a really smart mouth attached to it.”

“Har, har, har, you’re funny,” he quipped, nudging her with a childish huff and pout. “I know I promised our pit stop but–”

“Is this about the other Lombaxes?” She was never one to beat around the bush, always direct, somethings ruthlessly so. Her words weren’t spoken harshly though, a gentle inflection to the question.

“Ah, sorta?” Rivet arched a brow at him in a telltale manner that made him doubletake his answer, backpedaling. “Okay, maybe a lot sorta.”

“You wanna elaborate?” She encouraged him, cocking her head with a curious blink of her intelligent eyes.

There was a pause, Ratchet taking the moment to figure out what he wanted to say. Rivet was patient, shifting between focusing on the intense frown of his brows to the matching frown on his lips. He eventually took in a breath and faced her.

“What if they’re not what I expected?” He asked her, propping his fist on his chin, contemplating the question once again. His eyes looked at the starry expanse of sky, endlessly stretching farther than the mind could imagine.

She leaned back on the back of her palms before casting him a little look. “Well, was I what you expected?” The words were laced in good humor and she grinned once she saw his startled face.

He wasn’t expecting that, big eyes round as an owl before he gave a grin of his own. Rivet was relieved to see it there, melancholy didn’t do justice to his face. “No, actually, you weren’t.” The words were honest but hardly negative, some warmth tingling them.

“I’ll assume that’s a compliment,” she teased him, her robotic hand making contact with his arm in a playful punch of camaraderie. She was sitting up again, elbows on her knees as she continued to speak. “And before you ask…”

“Ask what?” He rubbed at the spot where she’d socked him, wondering if she had any idea how much strength she really had in that cyborg hand and arm of hers. She must be a champion arm wrestler. “I think you’re pretty solid too. Those other Lombax would be dumb to not see it,” Rivet assured him and this time it was him who bumped shoulders with her.

It was only the pressure against her shoulder she felt from the nerve endings pressed into the machine, she’d lost the ability to feel much else since losing that arm despite his warm arm brushing against her. It was strange but she was used to strange. She almost had a phantom sensation of his touch.

“Thanks,” he chuckled before arching a brow playfully. “Are you reading minds now too?”

“If I’m you and you’re me, it’s a pretty obvious conclusion, right?” She challenged him, ears pricked forward.

“Man, that still makes my head hurt,” he exclaimed, pushing a palm against his forehead with a chuckle.

He wondered if there was more to that besides being shadows of one another, recalling Mags' diary entries of how other Lombaxes had been cast out into different pockets of time and space. To say the least, his mind wasn't ready in the slightest to start going down that rabbit hole just yet. There would be plenty of down time now to do so later, the excitement of peril was done.

They filled the silence that followed with what felt like calm and peace a good friend brought, content in the lull of the conversation; it didn’t feel suffocating or awkward.

Ratchet broke the quiet moment, his voice musing. “Yanno… for someone who’s been a real lone wolf, you sure know how to talk to people.”

“Hey, lone wolf doesn’t equal socially degenerate,” she quipped, shaking her head with a smile at him lifting a hand in mock defense. “Besides, I honestly get how you feel about… the whole scared of the Lombax thing.” She let her face become serious, brows furrowed as she rubbed her hands together. Ratchet could hear the purr in the motors of her robotic arm as it moved. “It wasn’t fair I threw that in your face back at Zurkie’s–”

Automatically he interrupted her, shaking his head and catching her gaze. “No, it’s alright. It wasn’t right of me to call you a coward either when you had your own fears.”

“Yeah but fear does nobody any good when it hurts people,” she told him, lifting her eyes to glance at her arm, seeing her reflection on the golden sleek metal. She turned back to him not long after, somehow feeling a sense of peace wash over her despite some of the jitters. “Guess fear just doesn’t make no sense sometimes, huh?” They shared a look, a somber smile on each other's faces.

“Yeah,” he agreed, sighing with something that almost sounded like a chuckle.

She took a moment to find what she should say next, knowing the conversation wasn’t going to end right there. A good friend did what she could to support each other, not snuff out their insecurities and ignore their needs. Her thoughts absently flew to Kit and Rivet didn’t want to make that mistake again. “Meeting you was honestly one of the most intimidating things I ever did, I can’t imagine adding to it an entire race of who knows how many more of us out there,” she confessed at last. "Fighting Emperor Nefarious was a cakewalk compared to that."

He studied her curiously, a bit surprised. Considering their argument prior to the conclusion of this whole mess, he hadn’t really expected her to have her own qualms about finding their kin. “You worry about what they might think of you too?”

“I mean, maybe a little,” Rivet started, trying to sound casual, being vulnerable wasn’t her strong suit but she was going to try her hardest. Breathing a sigh, she found her words again that were heavy on her tongue, relaxing the tension that had suddenly found itself coiled down her spine. “Well, I don’t anymore, least not like I did before we met,” she replied, meeting his eyes, mischief twinkling like a star. “You like me well enough, right?”

“You seriously need to ask me that?” He rested his elbow on his knee that was curled up close to his chest, the other leg comfortably laying under his relaxed slouch.

“That answers that,” Rivet said, sighing extravagantly in good humor before taking on a more serious tone. “Anyway, if one Lombax thinks I’m good enough, then that must mean others will think of me that way too. If not, well, then I got just the one and your approval is plenty for me.”

He smiled at her. “You think that highly of me? I’m touched.”

“Yeah, I do, and I’m not saying that because you’re the only other Lombax I know,” she told him, returning his smile with one of her own.

Ratchet seemed to consider his words, quiet for only a moment before he said anything. “Hey, Rivet?”

“Yeah, Ratchet?” “Thanks, for tonight, I mean. It helps,” he told her, appreciative as he met her eyes. “Kit and me dished some talk but guess I hadn’t gotten it all out, too much mayhem at the time.”

“It’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” Ratchet said, nodding his head.

They fell into a short silence, just looking at each other before Rivet decided to speak. "So… think you're finally ready for that little pit stop soon you promised me?" She arched a brow at him, a challenge he met with a toothy smirk teetering on a grin.

"I've been ready." He reached a hand out to her, bicep raised as Rivet met him halfway, robotic palm pressed into the glove of his as they met in a firm clap.

She squeezed his hand, mindful to not crush it with their arms pressed together from the grip. "That's what I like to hear."

"Good, because you'll be hearing a lot more from where that's coming, Rivet."

#ratchet & clank #ratchet and clank #ratchet and clank rift apart #my writing #my fanfiction

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crackcrocs · 3 years

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DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3

3. Transformation Central

the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:

‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’

sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.

SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.

{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}

~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.

here goes:

What is this part of my mind ?

If you want; delve inside-

I may look sweet like Alice,

but underneath it all

I deteste looking in the mirror

-cos I see the mad hatter.

my inner child needs a platter-

full of care not distortion & abuse pls.

less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.

now following the dead fish in the stream!

HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?

I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.

dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.

alone.

thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.

I sat and watched them grow.

In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)

and still they make me feel like the alien-

I cant take it.

Make it make sense ?

I can’t.

controller in my hand-

Off balance stance.

anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.

where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?

the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!

change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.

catch me sun gazing by the sea

head buzzin like a bee.

speaking from a dusty box

stuck on top of a forbidden shelf

cos I dunno how else.

I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive

How can i visualise? scenery foggy-

the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD

inner monk burning but at peace

Cos I refuse to believe

If the only way is the American dream

Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!

down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door

subcategories & divisions, it’s more!

than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built

do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?

will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?

well obviously not.

does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?

LABOUR YAY!

but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.

sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.

or maybe i’m enlightened-

Standing at the edge of the porch;

watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.

questioning eVERYTHING man made!

I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame

I can see the coal pollute the sky

I need to hop on the train-

but I’m comfortable

Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.

what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?

I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.

Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.

TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,

with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.

thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks

& building a kingdom of bliss.

guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.

might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.

I observe, cruisin in the sky.

dunno why..

I jus look @ the hills.

Only time & history reveals.

no thanks mr men-

I don’t want your prescription pills.

there’s enough propaganda as it is.

I won’t jump on the merry go round-

til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!

I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.

oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!

guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...

it’s not thrilling

system time killing everything-

mother nature’s oxygen

everything is nauseating

clock ticking, I better start creating.

they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.

If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.

Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.

they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.

In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.

More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.

zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!

Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.

we’ll be okay just hush.

Same Shan message told to every generational seed.

If we don’t TRY overpower-

we’ll never succeed!

it’s getting even more scary.

Artificial intelligence.

Societal negligence..

my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?

finger painting, cos it makes more sense.

struggling to blend.

borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;

moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.

who made the chalk? who set the lanes?

I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.

I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,

Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.

hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.

Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush

Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!

Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?

I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.

time is running out & ill go when I go.

I’m sitting inside the fly trap -

stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.

deep emotion is a curse.

still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-

flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.

I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.

Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise

-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.

sadomasochistic, messes.

but oblivion, seems like less stress.

Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes

empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.

Punching truth into the core of your chest!

It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..

My limbs are numb

& im done playing octopus alchemy.

I want minimalism & life can be simple,

Evil entities have made it hard.

Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.

But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,

I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.

I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-

Outside looking in, digesting confusion.

Is to be a product of environment a sin?

rummage through my messy brain.

personalities sardine packed in this tin

I’m the wizard of my mania

Scaring & attracting the black crows-

they’re my friends.

Sometimes still a cowardly lion

Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.

will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest

In to the cake i’m baking?

Probably not.

Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.

gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.

sometimes I stay in line

Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.

but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.

we all have a pace

I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.

It’s unfair!

Humanity does anyone care ??

Half lady

half fairy

Good MOOrning-

from my anagrams.

no I’m not a cow.

twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-

form of expression this time around lyrics.

feel I’m jus a silly rubix

& still mourning

I don’t like dairy

pass the oat milk.

Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?

we want peace!

the powerful elite-

perceive & deceive

the scene they want us to be.

chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-

every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.

evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.

working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.

It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?

Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!

it’s pure scary.

Pharmaceutics handshake.

with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.

I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk

If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.

why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.

every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.

I want real fruit, what next-

a seedless peach ???

what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?

layers & levels to the shit.

Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.

sponge soaked soaking up emotions

Suffocated by deduction of care in life

feel entrapped in this paradigm

what am I thinking ?

got the verbs & a cuppa tea

It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.

I’d rather be awake than asleep

When I get too comfy I feel weak

Demons they reap

underneath

rip the seems as I bleed

Concrete

Solid

Emotions

Is all you’re getting

It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting

people need care we seem to be forgetting

why are we in debt wit

a posse of clowns

pay the price so we can get a frown

here’s some seratonin

quit ya moaning

life is all sound

aw yeh¿ if you’re not an over thinker!

product of environment- Sirius flickers

theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca

now here’s your gold sticker..

for managing to co operate.

In this world fuelled off of evil n hate

waking ups a bloody disgrace

I am not amazed.

Man I love my fam n my friends

Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend

sometimes I feel insane

but I’m calm

need to escape so I don’t do harm

Gold lioness in the sky by the sea

with puff the magic dragon

fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe

I will shine bright

Promise imma be alright

even tho I’m not sure why

I function like this

I wanna be myself

It’s just hard to find the comfortability

To feel happy and pretty

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Ring around sing about overdose emotions

Sorry dunno how to communicate

Heads in a constant debate

Should I go or should I stay

My head clashes

Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.

#LCZABIBU #deathwillonlybethebeginning

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shigarakis-fifth-hand · 4 years

Text

Class of 1-A Imagine

The entire 1-A class got hit by a quirk swapping villain! It’s all randomized and I spent a bunch of time on this! Please draw what they would look like and dm me!

Lida

- He was lucky enough to get Denki’s quirk

- Didn't even notice for a few seconds

- Only realized when he couldn’t run anymore

- His engines were simply gone ~ POOF!

- It was only when he looked at his hair and saw bright yellow

- Immediately runs away as fast as his weak, human legs can take him

- When they tell him what happens, he forces Kaminari to tell him how to use it

- “I don’t know, you just... do the thing.”

- “Well what thing because on page four of using your quirk, it says that...”

- When Iida gets the hang of it, he doesn’t like to use it

- He’s terrified of hurting someone, and since he isn’t experienced, he doesn’t want to go brain-dead either

Asui

- She got Deku’s quirk

- She doesn’t like how big her arms get

- All Might immediately helps her since he doesn’t want her to break any bones

- She doesn’t fully grasp the concept and chooses not to use the quirk

- She’s seen how bad Deku can get

- She is overjoyed at something else though

- “My tongue Mina! Look at my tongue!”

- Everyone finds out Asui has a beautiful singing voice

- She’s almost sad to get her own quirk back

- But it’s okay

- She can’t hurt herself with her own quirk ~ribbit

Aoyama

- He was able to get Sero’s quirk

- “Well you didn’t hear this from me but it’s truly unfashionable.”

- “Look at me, the human tape dispenser of 1-A.”

- “Ugh, I can’t even wear my fur jacket because my elbows are too thick.”

- “Sero, how do you wear long sleeves with this thing?!”

- Aoyama doesn’t want to use the quirk, it’s just not “flowing with his vibe”

- He wears his fancy jackets for the entire month after the quirk wears off

( a picture of Bakugo trying to help Kirishima learn about molecules ^^^^)

Kirishima

- He got Momo’s quirk

- At first he’s sad, his unmanly quirk is gone for an entire week!

- But then he realizes that he can walk around shirtless for an entire week

- “It’s for my quirk!”

- He likes being able to make food in an instant, he just doesn’t like it when Aizawa insists that he know the basic molecules of certain things

- “When am I going to use this? I will never have to make an umbrella in my life!”

- He likes to stick to food, especially liking that he can make any meal better than Bakugo

- “Dude! I could solve world hunger from my abs!”

- “Woah, imagine if I could make a car from my abs.”

- “Can I make wings like Hawks?!

- When the week ends, Kirishima is kinda disappointed

- But Bakugo is happy he got his cooking buddy back

Koda

- He got Uraraka’s quirk

- He’s super excited honestly, he likes being able to fly

- “I feel like a feather.”

- Ochako is happy to be able to teach him how

- “Let’s just stay indoors. We don’t need you floating off to space.”

- Koda almost wants to go to space

- Once he learns how to use it, he uses all his time zooming around the dorms

- Once Aizawa takes them outside to train, he just floats around in the air

- Aizawa lets him

- He knows this precious baby needs some relaxation with the clouds

- He also likes the birds

- He can’t speak to them though, which is frustrating for him

- “How do you not remember me? I fed you dinner last night!”

Ojiro

- He got Tokoyami’s quirk

- One second his tail was there, the next second it was a mean looking bird

- Ojiro likes taking his bird on walks, he doesn’t really know what to do with it

- He talks to the bird sometimes, and for some reason he can understand it

- “Dark Shadow seems too emo. Let’s try Gregory.”

- The bird agrees 100%

- When Ojiro is training, Gregory is too powerful sometimes

- “How do you control your own shadow?!”

- Training sessions with Aizawa is just one big mess for Ojiro

- Nothing gets accomplished accept Ojiro talking to Thompson and Thompson trying to attack anyone who gets close

- Ojiro is so excited to get his tail back, but it sad that Tokoyami won’t take the same request

- rip Gregory

( Sato’s reaction to getting Mineta’s quirk^^ )

Sato

- Sato has Mineta’s quirk

- Sato doesn’t come out of his room for the entire week

- Everyone understands

Hagakure

- She got Sato’s quirk

- She makes a bunch of sweets as an excuse to eat all of it

- But that’s not a big deal at all to her

- She’s not invisible anymore!

- The moment she realizes that she isn’t invisible, she goes crazy

- She’s actually kind of tan

- Not only that but she’s gorgeous!

- Thick brown hair, green eyes, and she’s so skinny

- Her face alone has everyone in 1-A dropping dead

- Some of the guys can’t believe it

- They’ve chatted with this girl for months and had no idea

- She wants to ask Ojiro on a date, but what happens when the quirk wears off

- It does wear off, but nobody cares

- They always knew she was pretty, and this just confirmed it for sure

Shoji

- He got Hagakure’s quirk

- What’s not to love about being invisible?

- The strange part to him is that he can still see himself

- All of his extra arms are gone!

- That’s sad, all of his shirts were custom for those arms

- He borrows clothes from his friends

- It’s funny to see a robe and bunny slippers walking around at midnight though

Deku

- He got Todoroki’s quirk

- It’s okay though! He’s got his creepy notebook!

- Todoroki gladly give him teaching on how to use it

- “Remember, flames do damage and ice can be used to capture things.”

- Deku knows all of this from his “research”

- But that doesn’t stop them from spending everyday training together

- It’s fun... and “helpful”

- Deku loves being his own microwave and freezer

- He accidently catches things on fire from time to time

- He got scared by a movie and froze half the couch

- Todoroki kissed him and he burned half his shirt off

- “How do you control this thing?!”

Ururaka

- She got Mina’s quirk

- “Yay! I got acid hands! I got acid hands!”

- Mina makes her wear oven mitts

- She accidently burns a hole through her bed while having nightmares

- “High five! Wait... never mind.”

- “Mina, teach me how to do the thing!”

- Also let’s not forget that Ochako has pink skin, horns, and alien eyes

- “Ooh, I look so cute!”

- Ochako spends most of her time posing in front of the mirror

- “Look at my horns Kirishima!”

- “Mina, look at my eyes!”

Denki

- He got Iida’s quirk

- Whenever he runs, he ends up going sonic on people

- “Denki, take a lap!”

- “I don't think you want that Mr. Aizawa.”

- Whenever Denki tries to use Iida’s quirk, it’s always a quick fail

- So far Denki has taken out a trash can, Present Mic, tripped on a basketball, run into a tree, faceplant into dirt, and accidently swallow a bug

- The worst part is that Denki sleep walks

- Running into stuff, tripping over a potted plant, falling down a flight of stairs

- “This is better than being brain dead I guess.”

- Denki spends most of his time making fun of Iida by waving his arms like a robot and trying on multiple pairs of glasses at once

- Iida demands that Kaminari trains

- “Kaminari, you will read all of these books on how to operate engine legs or else!”

- Kaminari must admit the engine legs are cool

- Except when Kirishima put hot dogs in them

- The entire class room smelled like burnt meat

Jiro

- “Cool! I look like a frog!”

- She got Asui’s quirk

- Her hair turned green, her tongue grew, and her pupils dialated

- “Asui, look at this!”

- She uses her tongue to swing off the dusty chandelier when Iida isn’t looking

- “Ew! They should make tongue condoms!”

- Jiro and Ochako have a blast teasing Mina and Asui

- “Ribbit bitch! Your frog queen has arrived!”

- Denki gets Jiro a crown to wear around the dorms

- Ochako buys the four girls frog onesies

- “So kawaii!”

- Jiro never was into swimming until now

- She likes that her fingers don’t get wrinkly

Sero

- He got Ojiro’s quirk

- “Dude, look at my tail!”

- Bakugo makes fun of his “backwards dick”

- It’s funny, but not that funny

- In return Sero whips him with it

- “I feel like a monkey!”

- Sero hangs from everything he can

- “This thing has more muscles than I do!”

- He goes to a playground nearby with Denki and swings off the monkey bars

Tokayami

- He got Koda’s quirk

- “I’ve never been much about nature. Too much light, not enough darkness.”

- Bakugo jokes that he can finally talk to his pigeon brothers

- “Dude! The birds love you!”

- And everyone is right

- As soon as Tokoyami walks outside, a pigeon lands on his head

- “Why did that pigeon just speak to me?!”

- Tokoyami is scared of the outside now

- “I can hear their voices still!”

- Tokoyami has a panic attack over being able to hear the animal voices

- “Why do ants sound so manly?”

Todoroki

- He got Bakugo’s quirk

- “I’m not asking that bastard for help.”

- Instead, he goes to Deku for training

- “Deku, you have that stalker notebook still?”

- Bakugo’s quirk is like his own quirk

- “Seriosuly? Just heat?”

- “Kind of basic if you ask me.”

- Once Bakugo hears that, he goes beserk

- “Icyhot!”

- “Oh no no, you can’t call me that anymore.”

- Todoroki likes propelling himself in the air with explosions

- Bakugo’s quirk is too loud, like his personality

- He doesn’t like using the quirk honestly

- “It's not very good, very violent, and I don’t like getting sweaty.”

Bakugo

- He got Kirishima’s quirk

- “Yea bro, you can get hard too now!”

- Mina tries to stop him from saying that

- Poor bby doesn't understand

- Kirishima tries to help, but Bakugo is having no part in that

- “How difficult can your quirk be Shitty Hair?”

- It isn’t easy though, especially when Bakugo is forced to be shirtless.

- He’s used to his hero outfit covering his chest

- Bby is a little self conscious

- The best part is that he doesn’t sweat that much

- “Fuck yea! I don’t smell like fucking cinnamon and caramel!”

- Bakugo does miss his explosions and hand grenades

- Your quirk is too boring Kirishima, and it’s not loud at all

Momo

- She got Aoyama’s quirk

- Her immediate reaction is to read a bunch

- “Aoyama! Wait up, I have so many questions!”

- Next though, she has fun with it

- “It’s so pretty!”

- Along the way her and Aoyama become friends

- He brings her pain releivers to help with the stomach pains

- “It sucks but at least it’s pretty.”

Mina

- She got Jiro’s quirk!

- Immediately her skin isn’t pink, her horns are gone, and her eyes turn bright blue

- She’s still as spunky as ever though

- “Dude! Imagine all the hot gossip I can listen to!”

- Mina tries the teacher’s lounge with Asui and Ochako, only to hear Aizawa and Present Mic planning a date night

- “We should totally go as well!” Mina offers

- They go on all sorts of “spy missions”

- Mina also likes being able to tan with Momo from time to time

- She does miss her horns though

- She realizes quickly that Jiro’s earphone jacks are also Bluetooth

- Jiro just never told anyone before

- When Mina gets her quirk back, she is so happy to look “normal” again

Omg this took all day! Please comment down below your favorite combo and if I should do another one! Love you all! Stay safe! <3333

83 notes · View notes

masked-mallards · 4 years

Text

Masked Mallards, the Multiverse, and Everything else

Chapter 4 The Investigation of John Duck

A couple of Hours Earlier….

It was silent in the car as Elmo drove. He looked to the passenger seat, Negaduck seemed bored and lost in thought. They were no longer in their normal uniforms, didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. Negaduck was in a sporting an unbuttoned expensive coat over a red dress shirt and a loose black tie and pair of torn black jeans. What really caught Megavolt's attention was the pin he wore on the collar of his jacket. It depicted a white rabbit with a frown on its face. He thought Negaduck hated the lagomorphs, then again Negaduck told him that this was his disguise. He never really had a life outside of his criminal activity.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that he looked like Drake’s slightly younger brother, but Drake had no siblings. Negaduck had said at one point that the Negaverse was 4 years behind Primeverse. Oddly enough, Drake dressed that way before Gosalyn came into the picture. Megavolt looked in the rearview mirror. Gosalyn's eyes were still red from her fight she had with father as she looked through her school notes for her homework.

“So, squirt,” He started trying to break the silence. "Any chance you get to dissect a frog today?" Gosalyn continued to thumb through her notes. "No, the school won't let me, not after last time." She murmured. Negaduck snickered. Sputterspark ignored him and spoke again. "Look, kid, your dad just wants what is best for you, that's all." She looked up from what was she was doing. "That's what everyone says, he just wants Quiverquack out of the way so he can feed his ego." She responded.

Megavolt laughed for the first time since the night day before. “That does sound like Drake, but he was way worse during high school and his first few years as Darkwing Duck. He fought with our professors, got sent to the office for starting fights with other students who picked on any of his friends, which was mostly me. Remind you of anyone?” he asked, fully aware of the frequent phone calls Drake got from the school.

Gosalyn blushed but smile. ‘So, what changed?” she asked. Elmo smiled back. “The day he changed; was the day you came to live with him. He bought a house in the suburbs, a thing he swore he’d never do, he loved the city too much. Drake even swallowed his pride and got a stable job with me at Quackerwerks, until they closed down when the robots tried to take over.” They pulled in to the school parking lot. “He may not be perfect like me,’ he said jokingly.” But he does care about you, more than you’ll ever know.”. Gosalyn got out of the car and turned to her chauffeur.

“Thanks, Uncle Elmo," Gosalyn said as she swung her bag over her shoulders. "I needed that." Then she ran up the school steps and disappeared through the double doors. He turned his head to Negaduck, who had a smug toothy grin.” What so funny?’ he asked amused duck. “Oh, nothing,” Negaduck said with a pause trying not to laugh. “Uncle Elmo," he said in the sweetest tone he could muster. “Not a word of this to Bushroot and Liquidator!” Sputterspark said red in the face. “I've my own ego to maintain!”. Negaduck roared with laughter, as they spud off to the warehouse.

St. Canard Bridge

Launchpad sat up from his chair and rubbed his eyes. He had been studying over Darkwing's case files for a couple of hours and cross-referenced then with Negaduck's ledger. Nothing came close as to the description of the clone. Nor, a way for it to have crossed dimensions without getting on the Magica's train. Due to the clone's age, Negaduck suggested that he was from an alternate future. He got from the chair and paced around. He stopped in his tracks.

After the Darkwing invasion, he and Scrooge McDuck had had a little disagree. McDuck had believed if Darkwing Duck were to continue as he is, he should reveal his identity to the world, be held accountable for his actions, and aid in bring the Darkwing doppelgängers to justice. Launchpad had defended his friend, by stating that Darkwing was not going to get involved in politics again after the Inkblot tried to corrupt him and that most of the clones were under the influence of foul magic from Magica, an enemy Scrooge McDuck was all too familiar with.

Scrooge made it clear that was that the some that weren’t under her magic was what concerned him. He and his number one inventor Gyro Gearloose were already working on a way to make it possible to travel to different dimensions and timelines and had already begun to work on a prototype-like device. This was worth mentioning to D.W. once they met up again. Launchpad made his way to the elevator and took it down. Maybe Bushroot was having better luck than he was.

He entered the infirmary, the old Darkwing was on a hospital bed nailed to the floor and hooked up to various machines designed to keep him alive and monitor his progress. He was shackled by arms and ankles and had not wakened up. “If only he was this peace when he's awake.” A voice came from behind him. Launchpad turned to address it. "On that, we can agree" he responded. Bushroot came down a ramp in a wheelchair, his body had regrown expect for his legs.

It would be a little while longer before they would grow back. Until then he was wheelchair-bound. "How is he?" Launchpad asked. "He'll live," Bushroot answered, then proceed to make his way to sleeping mallard. "Come with me, I want to show you something,' He said. 'There may be more to the patient than we realized.”. Bushroot pulled out a notepad that he had been scribbling on. “What did ya learn doc?”

“The patient is around 50 years old, which puts him 20 years in the future of our own time.” Bushroot started. “Secondly, we brought him here for medical attention, yet when I was ready to operate on him, his bruises were gone, and the bleeding had stopped. Over the last two hours his stab wounds, given to him by Negaduck via broken shotgun, had cleared up with little medical interference, and bones that would have taken months to mend, have almost healed. There is also this.”

He put down the notebook he was reading from. Smack. Bushroot struck the clone across the face. "Normally," Bushroot said, waving his hand to hush Launchpad who was going to speak against the "doctor’s” treatment of the prisoner. "If a person has been knocked out cold, they would have awakened by now, or be awakened by an outside force or noise. However, as you can see…" Bushroot directed Launchpad to the still comatose duck. "So, what's your point," Launchpad asked trying piece it together.

" Last night, before the truce, Negaduck interrogated him in his way, via brutal beating." The plant scientist recalled. "He had escaped and forced open the door. I was surprised to see the tenacious mallard, in serious need of morphine, able to walk, much less able wield a weapon.” Bushroot grew quiet as remember to sounds that came from that room. “He escaped, but when we did find him this morning, his injuries were healed as if they were never there.” He continued. “The patient must have had time to sleep since then. My theory is, that he exhibits some sort of healing factor when sleeping or in a comatose state, whether or not it is connected to his inability to be made alert, I'm not sure." Bushroot wheeled around the bed near the clone’s head. “This may be why.”

During his time at the University, Reginald Bushroot was paving his way through the field of botany. He was trying to eliminate world hunger by finding a way to make animals photosynthesize like plants. Before he had tested his finding on himself, resulting in the plant duck he is today, he tested on plants and lab rats provided by the University of St. Canard. Each one had a barcode on them. Bushroot rolled the head of the John Duck to the side.

On the back nap of his neck was a barcode much like the ones he had used. “He was a victim of duck experimentation.,” Bushroot explained. Bushroot looked to Launchpad, the larger duck looked pained. Bushroot could also feel sympathy for the clone. It was a violently driven induvial, who tried to evade capture twice and had refused Darkwing’s help when he injured. Bushroot shook his head, the clone was their enemy, had killed Quackerjack in cold blood, and was hell-bent on killing Megavolt and anyone who got in his way. He couldn't afford to pity it.

The Warehouse

Negaduck and Megavolt appeared across the street from the warehouse. They had hidden the car at a nearby Hippo Burger, the same one Megavolt had visited last night. The Warehouse was deserted, not a single cop or reporter in sight. Negaduck had flipped through the radio after they had dropped off Gosalyn. The story was dead, not on a single station. He'd almost feel insulted if weren't considering the circumstances. "Looks like my counterpart made good on his end of the bargain,” he said. “Let’s not get shown up.”. He looked to Megavolt, who wasn’t paying attention. The rat was carrying a bouquet of brightly colored flowers he had "bought" from a local street vendor.

They entered through the broken window that the clone made when he had attacked. Negaduck landed on his feet like a cat, while as Megavolt landed on his stomach clumsily. The place was a mess of broken glass, bullet shells, and caution tape. Negaduck looked to the overturned table. Quackerjack was gone, all that was left was a white outline. The feeling came back strong, but after spending some time with Megavolt, he believed he finally placed it. “Remorse." He thought to himself. Did his time in this disgusting reality make him soft? The last thing he did to the clown was snap his arm two and failed to keep him out of harm’s way.

Megavolt made his way to the chalk outline. He stared at it somberly, his eyes were wide and red, but he was not about to cry in front of Negaduck. He placed the flowers near the overturned table. Silence filled the room. Negaduck grabbed his right arm with his left hand and shifted uncomfortably. He scowled. He was not about to let empathy, find its way to his corrupted soul, or ruin his reputation as a psychopath. “Once you’re done with your soapbox,” he said impatiently. “let’s get our gear and ditch this place.”. The electric rodent glared at the rude duck, yet this kind of behavior is what expected of him.

Negaduck scanned the area. There was nothing worthy of note, the police must have been thorough. It was a go thing the Fearsome 5 had stored backup gear in another part of the facility. The duck and the rat weaved their way through the maze of large empty containers, hallways, and stairs until they reach their destination. No one spoke. Negaduck stopped in his tracks forcing Megavolt to bump into him. The iron to their make shifted operational area had blown clear of its hinges, and left mangled on the ground. The pair entered the exposed room.

Everything was in disrepair. Negaduck's Dobermans were making a racket as they yanked against the chains that held them to a pole, Bushroot's lab had been destroyed, glass bottles and paper was everywhere. A trashcan fire was dying out, it was filled with notes, blueprints, etc., or what was left of them. Quackerjack's and Megavolt's equipment were smashed by a sledgehammer, which lay nearby. The mess, however, was organized and was sorted into piles of metal, glass, and plastic.

There was a warped piece of metal in the middle of the room. The piece of art was melted and tied in knots, but it was still a little recognizable. It was Megavolt’s Tron Splitter “What happened in here?” Megavolt blurted. Negaduck waved his hand at the dogs and they fell silent. He examined the trash fire. A crumpled paper that survived the blaze. He picked it up and brushed the ash off. Part of it had been burned off, but for the most part, readable.

---------- log.

Prime-verse: 2100 hours

Tron Splitter: destroyed

Eye of Quackzalcoatl: location unknown

Megavolt: at large

--------------lt: at large

Nega-Sc-----: at large

----------------: at large

A green flash of movement came from under Bushroot's lab and wrapped itself around Megavolt's leg. “Spike!”. The pint-sized flytrap had been there the whole night. Megavolt pried him off his leg. It hissed at the sight of Negaduck, which Negaduck hissed back. Negaduck had gone about and beyond to make Spike hate him. From trying to make him into a salad, to "accidentally" setting his roots on fire. There was no particular reason Negaduck fought with the plant, he had no hatred toward Spike. It was just something he wanted to do. It was just the way things were. Negaduck gave himself a mental sigh of relief. Spike was a reminder that he was Negaduck, the biggest asshole in the freakin world. Nothing was going to change that.

The carnivorous plant slithered up and nestled Megavolt’s arms.” What happened boy?” Megavolt asked the plant. Spike’s vine-like arm pointed to a far wall on the other side of the room. Buckets of paint scattered the floor. On the wall was a symbol. It was a red circle outline with a purple stroke. A maroon duck head with one red eye and one blue. A slash of orange paint divided it in half diagonally. “Looks like the geezer clone, made a pitstop here before he attacked us.” Negaduck said, amused that the Darkwing clone took the time to paint this symbol. The clone, like his goody-two-shoes counterpart, shared the same attention-seeking ego.

He looked at the remains of the note he had found. “The fool also left a list of targets and items of interest.” he continued as he shoved the note into Megavolt’s hand. “Killing you is only part of his plan. He had succeeded in his first task in destroying your toy.” Negaduck point to the mangled tron splitter in the center of the room. “He’s also is looking for Eye of Quackzalcoatl, a magical artifact. Unfortunately, the rest of the list has been burned away, so we can’t learn much else.” Negaduck tucked the note into his coat. “Didn’t Drak-Darkwing already destroy the Eye?’ Megavolt asked. “Yeah, but the clone didn’t get the memo.” Negaduck answered.

Negaduck released his Dobermans. They bolted outside the door and disappeared down the hall, their barks echoing throughout the building then faded into silence. "Aw, look at them go," Negaduck said sounding like a proud parent. "I hope they bite pedestrians and maul a few children before they get shot down.”. Spike’s vines tightened around Megavolt’s arms and torso as he held him. The flytrap felt safer that way. “you, never gave them their shots, did you?” Megavolt said a little afraid for anyone that met those monsters. “Never even took them to see a vet.” Negaduck retorted. The trio salvaged what they could then headed back to the Mallard Residence.

Mallard residence.

4:30 p.m.

Gosalyn opened the door to her house. The only one there was the Liquidator. He was slumped on the couch in a sitting position, head tilted back and passed out. The wall was fixed and had a fresh coat of paint. “I thought he said he didn’t sleep?” she said aloud quietly. “No, but the mutt seems to like it as a pass time.” A deadpan voice came from behind her. She turned around to see the evil duck enter the house followed by Megavolt trying to free his arms from Spike. Negaduck stared at the child. The last time she saw him, he led a hostile takeover the St. Canard Penitentiary and turned it into his personal playground.

Negaduck eyed the broken device on the table. Gosalyn had shattered it when she had shot it with an arrow. She had a knack for causing chaos everywhere she went, such raw talent was wasted in the service of Darkwing Duck, who wouldn’t even let her fight. “I still stand by what I said at the penitentiary, you’ve always been a bad seed.” Negaduck said in a serious tone, as he put a burnt note on the table with the rest of the clone’s belongings. “You could reach your true potential if you came to work for me, and not have to be held back by your Dipwing father.” Gosalyn tossed her schoolbag the floor in anger and marched up to the Mallard twice her size.

“Thanks, but no thanks. In fact, you can take your offer and- “. She colorfully told where he could stick his proposal, causing Megavolt to put himself between the two if Negaduck tried to do anything, but to their astonishment, Negaduck smirked and shrugged. "My offer still stands." He said coolly. Negaduck turned his attention to table cover in the various item obtained from the clone. Gosalyn watch as Megavolt hurried after his leader. She could not understand why any of his men followed him at all. He treats them horribly, and the majority of them could easily tear him to shreds. The dog on the couch murmured something inaudible. “Was he dreaming?” she thought herself.

Negaduck picked up the trench coat. It was made of dark purple leather and the inside was lined with a yellow-orange fabric in its inside. The coat had no pockets and was rather plain, yet the otherworldly Darkwing was able to pull an arsenal from it. The night he captured him at the warehouse captured the first time, they had confiscated his weapons and armor, leaving him only with his clothes and his trench coat. He was able to procure two knives, tear gas, and a chainsaw. His eye flickered.

Negaduck recalled the time he had been reduced to atoms by Megavolt’s tron splitter. He had become an ink-like substance, that imposed his chaotic personality on anyone who touched it. Magica de Spell conducted experiments on it, which eventually led to Negaduck to returning body and soul. One of the experiments was giving an unstable ballplayer, a trench coat that had been tainted by the ink. “One-shot.” Negaduck thought.

Carmichael Q. Anthony was once a rising star in the sport of baseball as a pitcher. However, his fame caused him to down spiral. He developed a severe case O.C.D and felt compelled to never make the same pitch twice. It got to the point where he threw everything but the ball. The monkey was eventually suspended after throwing a puppy at the batter. De Spell gifted him a coat that acted as an endless supply of things to throw, some of which were deadly. From that point on, Anthony did her bidding under the influence of the ink, and gain a reputation under the name One-Shot.

Negaduck held the coat lengthwise and put his hand it, disappearing into the fabric. "I wonder," he said aloud. He searched around the fabric, until his hand wrapped around a metal handle. He pulled out a large claymore, it was way larger coat itself. Megavolt jumped at the sight of it. “So that’s how he did it,” said Negaduck mildly impressed. “He must have nicked this beauty off of One-Shot and used it as his personal arsenal”. Megavolt gave him a confused look. “I thought Darkwing burned it because of its dark magic.” He stated. Negaduck put the trench coat back on the table and tossed the sword aside. “True,” Negaduck responded. “We have to remember, that the geezer clone came from another dimension. He might have got it from another unfortunate baseball-playing monkey."

Megavolt turned his attention to the shattered device. "That is one mystery solve, but what about this," he said directing Negaduck's attention. Negaduck stared at the pile of loose wire and broken grey and green metal. He hadn't the foggiest idea of what to make of it. The John Duck lost its mind after Gosalyn shot it. Gosalyn made her way over to the table, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Hey, I think these wires go together.” Said Megavolt as he reached to put them together. “Uncle Elmo,” Gosalyn said sounding a little worried. “We don’t know what that thing does, we probably shouldn’t- “. It was too late. The small device sparked to life and the green metal began to glow.

Boom. The device of the leaped off the table with energy. Blue lighting came bursting out of it, items in the house were flung around with a violent force as it did so. The lightning formed a distorted circle above. Negaduck recognized immediately what it was, he had seen one since he got cut off from the Negaverse. It was a warp hole. The clone was carrying around technology that could rival S.H.U.S.H. It explained how the clone was able to follow the train undetected; he was jumping through warp holes.

The warp hole was growing unstable, it pulsed and cracked as it began to suck in everything in its proximity. Gosalyn was swept off her and was pulled toward the portal. To everyone's surprise, including his own, Negaduck grabbed the child and tucked her his arm. He used the other to hold on the couch, so he would get pulled in. “Sparky!” Negaduck roared. “Turn it off!!”. Megavolt, who was hugging the table leg, reached for the device to force it to shut done but instead knocked to further down the table by accident. "You idiot!" Negaduck roared in a rage.

A large icy mallet smashed the unstable device. It cracked and popped before it went dead. Smoke rose from under the Liquidator's hammer-like hand and the warp hole vanished. The disturbance had woken him up, the living area was a mess again, he was sure Darkwing was going blame him for it. The front door opened. Drake mallard enter, having had shed his purple uniform and spoke before he saw the living room. “Consider yourselves of the hook,” he said in a tired voice. “So please, for the sake of peace, don’t-“ his eyes fell on the scene that was once was his living room.

It was like a tornado had struck, walls were torn, furniture and appliances toppled over. Megavolt, and apparently Spike, were holding on the table leg as it were the safest place to be. Gosalyn was tucked protectively in Negaduck's arm, and Liquidator was on the table, his hand formed into a mallet. A part of the attic floor finally gave way and crashed on what was left of the coffee table. “Do I want to know who or what caused this?” Darkwing asked as calmly as he could.

The Liquidator reduced his hand to normal size to reveal the broken device, and then the lot of them pointed at Megavolt, who was still hugging the table. Darkwing took a moment to compose himself.” I got a call from Launchpad; the clone has woken up.” He said as he snatched Gosalyn from Negaduck and glowered at him. “Let’s see if he is more willing to talk now.”

Later…

“No, I am not wearing it.” Negaduck said stubbornly when Darkwing handed him the blindfold. “I will not allow myself to guided like a blind man, by you especially." Negaduck and Darkwing have already gotten in back into their uniforms. 'It's bad enough you know where I live, the last thing I need is for you to learn where I work." Darkwing argued. They had been at it for the last 30 minutes. Gosalyn sat next to the Liquidator on the couch, both were growing impatient with the bickering doppelgängers. Megavolt and Liquidator had already agreed to be blindfolded, it didn't matter to them much, though it would be nice to know where Darkwing's hideout in the future. Megavolt and Spike had already left with Launchpad, who had come by to pick the evidence they had gathered.

"Look," Darkwing yelled, starting to lose his patience with his yellow clan double. "The only way for us to continue the case is to question the clone himself. We had to take him to the tower for treatment, thanks to you, and we are not going to risk removing him from there. So, you either put on the blindfold and go with us, or you can stay here, frankly, I'm hoping for the ladder." Negaduck went silent for a moment, then he snatched the blindfold out of Darkwing's hand and placed himself on the couch next to Liquidator, defeated.

Gosalyn watched her father rub his eyes. He seemed tired, more than usual. According to the Liquidator, he was the last one to get back to the house today. It had been a while since he went to S.H.U.S.H. on his own, and not because of J. Gander. Hooter summoned him for a job. Gosalyn turner her gaze to the Aquatic dog next to her. His eyes have been locked on Darkwing since he got here.

"Gosalyn," Darkwing said grabbing her attention. She faced her father; they had not spoken since this morning. "I want you to know, that what you did this morning was incredibly dangerous, he could have killed you and you are very lucky." His arms were crossed and he was waving his finger at her, it was an indication of an impending lecture. Gosalyn braced for the yelling. "Young lady….," He began. "That was the bravest and selfless thing I have ever seen, and I have never been so proud of you.".

Gosalyn opened her eyes, her father smiled warmly at her. Out of relief of gaining his approval, the red-haired girl jumped off the couch, and into her father's arms who hugged her back. "Now, don't get me wrong, you're still grounded till your 30!" he said in a fake stern tone. He handed her bow, he had confiscated it from her this morning, with its quiver full of arrows. "You can have this back, but you only if you're going to use it from a distance, as it was intended to be used. Right?” his tone turning serious. The little daredevil looked him dead in the eye. "You can count on me!" she said with determination, yet both father and daughter knew she made no promises.

"Aww…" the Liquidator said forgetting that he for a moment that he was ever angry with Darkwing. Negaduck pointed his finger to his mouth and made a gagging noise. There were times when the Liquidator swore Negaduck had the maturity of a 14-year-old boy. The pair ignored the peanut gallery on their couch. Nothing going to ruin the moment. Negaduck sat up and spoke so only his hound could hear.

“Truce states that we can’t harm the geezer clone and he is going to jail.” He stated. “But I beg a differ. That duck is going to die tonight, he has escaped death by my hand one too many times, I am not going to sit here and let him breathe for another day.” Negaduck was shaking slightly, he hated not leaving a job unfinished and transgressors unpunished. “When He has given what we want as far as answers, I gonna kill him,” he said in hostel tone. “However, Dorkwing is probably aware of my intentions and will be keeping a very close watch on me. “

If I can’t get near him, I want you to put him down. Darkwing can defend the geezer from me and the others, but not from you." The liquidator nodded in agreement. He may not always do so, but the clone still had to answer for the attack at the warehouse. Besides the hound never disobeyed an order from Negaduck and always came through. There were times, though he won't admit it, Negaduck considered the Liquidator to be his right hand. It has always been this way since the formation of the Fearsome 5. Since that day……...

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

All he could see was him as his body sank to the bottom of the vat of contaminated water. Budd's body hit the bottom of the vial container of his own making. Darkwing was just standing there, just staring at him. The Masked Mallard disappeared from the water's edge and left the hound to his fate. Budd Flood watched the last of his oxygen leave him as it bubbled up to the surface, and he waited for oblivion. However, it wasn't the end of the hound. He found himself alive, somehow, but his body filled the container of his would-be grave.

After a while, a liquid hand reached out of the vat. Flood pulled his aquatic body out of the vat and fell forming a puddle. “This is my life now.” He thought. Darkwing has no doubt had reported him to the police about his sabotage of competing water company. He was ruined, not to mention was no longer made of flesh. It was his fault, and he was going to make him pay. It took 3 days, but the determined hound learned to control his newfound power. He was no longer Budd Flood; he was the Liquidator.

-----several weeks later.

The Liquidator’s head plowed out of the water, and he rested his upper body on a ledge above the water. He was somewhere in the sewers of St. Canard. Darkwing had beaten him again, no matter how much stronger Liquidator was compared the duck. It infuriated him. "Sounds like you’re up shit creek…. Literally” a foul voice said a few feet away. Liquidator looked up to see a mallard. If it weren’t for his canine instinct, he would have thought it was Darkwing coming down to taunt him. However, this guy wore a yellow-orange version of the Masked Mallard’s uniform and his face was full of malice.

Negaduck knelt to the dog's eye level smirking a toothy grin. The liquidator snarled like a dog backed in a corner, he didn't know who this Darkwing look-alike was, but he sensed danger from his presence. "What's the matter?" the duck asked. 'Do l remind you of the one who did this to you? Did Darkwing beat you with a simple kitchen sponge?". The Liquidator extended his body and pinned Negaduck against a brick wall. Half his body was still in the water. "Who are you?" Liquidator demanded. "Names, Negaduck," he said. "I might look like the Purple Blunder, but besides that, we are nothing alike, morally anyway”. The Liquidator glowered at Negaduck, there was something not right. “What do you want?” the hound asked.

Negaduck was still smirking, not caring for the danger he was in. "You're, not the only one with a bone to pick with Darkwing Duck," he spoke in a calm tone. "What if I told you, I was putting together a team of like-minded individuals, who want nothing more to lay waste to St. Canard, robbing banks, burning down a building, etc., and kill Darkwing to boot." Liquidator loosened his grip but didn't let go. He was a crooked businessman, but he drew the line at terrorism. Negaduck continued. "I've heard reports of a monster in the waters of St. Canard. How he came to be." He laughed. "Yet is defeated by a clad purple duck, despite his power in hydrokinesis.". The liquidator growled. "Get to the point." The hound said, he hated long-winded pitches when someone was trying to sell him something.

"I offer you an opportunity," Negaduck answered. "Your power alone can only get you so far, it needs a guiding hand. I can provide that, especially against Darkwing Duck. All that I ask is that join me in my crew of misfits.". The Liquidator released his hold on duck and reformed to stand on the ledge. "I don't need your help to kill the Masked Mallard," Liquidator barked. "Oh really?" Negaduck responded sarcastically." How many times have you ended down here, because he forced you down a pipe? How many more times are you going to have to sit someone's yard, collecting pigeon shit, because he turned you into a statue? How long will it take for you to realize, that you can't beat him, at least not on your own." The Liquidator's body began to boil in rage.

“And what makes you think you can help me? What’s in it for you?” the hound demanded. He was from a world of commerce and dirty business, there was always a catch. Negaduck didn’t flinch a muscle as the Liquidator released him and flooded around him. “Simple really,” Negaduck said his smirk disappearing leaving his face without expression.” I want to make my goody-two-shoes clone suffer, then when I am bored with him, I’ll kill him.” Negaduck paused for a moment. “He is everything I hate in the world, then some. His mere existents makes my blood boil." Negaduck turned his attention to the hound. "However," he said as if he was forcing himself to talk. "I can't do it alone, just like you. So, I am assembling a team of people to raise hell on St. Canard, who has a personal vendetta against Darkwing Duck, and I require a hound."

The Liquidator's body began cool off from its high temperature, and steam rose with a hiss. Once the steam dissipated, a normal size dog appeared in a watery form. The liquidator stood in front of the Mallard, easily towering him. "Do we have a deal?" Negaduck asked sticking his hand out. Ignoring every instinct that shouted at him to refuse the duck's offer, to stay behind the line he drew for himself, he shook the hand of a devil. He followed Negaduck into the darkness of the sewer and started his new life as a member of the soon to be Fearsome 5.

Later that same day…...

Negaduck pushed open an iron door. "Welcome to your new quarters." Negaduck said as he entered the building. He had explained that it was once a factory but was shut down because it failed inspection. It mostly made and sold candy. "Don't make yourself at home Mutty Water, we might move out soon if I can't the smell of chocolate out of the walls." Negaduck had come up with a list of insulting nicknames for the hound as they traveled to the factory. Liquidator wonder if the foul duck did this to everyone he met. No matter. The Liquidator didn't come along with him to be his friend. It was his new mission to kill Darkwing duck, even if it meant being loyal to a psychopath.

Something scurried across the floor and planted itself in front of Negaduck. It was a mutated venus flytrap about a couple of feet tall. It growled aggressively at Negaduck. Negaduck glowered at the bold house plant, then kicked square across the room. The plant hit a cabinet and bounced on to the floor. It pulled itself up whimpering. Negaduck continued on his way without a care. With one final hiss at Negaduck, it retreated down the hall. The Liquidator followed it out of curiosity. The flytrap led him to a small room with no windows and cover in plants. Due to the lack of sunlight, they were undernourished and turning brown, yet everything was in bloom.

A hand reached out from under a nearby desk and grabbed his ankle. The sudden motion almost gave him a heart attack. "Is he out there?" asked a timid voice from under the table. The hound looked under the desk, and saw what he could only assume was the owner of the flytrap. It was duck/plant hybrid, cowering under the desk. Negaduck had said that he had already recruited someone else, who had suffered at Darkwing's hand. A botanist by the name of Bushroot. He like the Liquidator had gone under an untraversable mutation. Bushroot was in a fetal position, he had angered Negaduck that morning and was hiding from his chainsaw. The hound knelt so he was partly under the desk. He now had another mission in life, other than ridding of Darkwing. "No," the liquidator said calmly and reach out his paw. "But I am."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Negaduck and the Liquidator finally had been blindfolded. Gosalyn took the Liquidator and guided him to one of the chairs and sat him in one. She proceeded to sit in the next chair over and pressed the button on the mouse statue. They disappeared into the floor. Negaduck and Darkwing followed suit. His house was now empty, the only evidence that something was there was a destroyed ceiling and broken furniture.

Chapter 5

https://masked-mallards.tumblr.com/post/190704477979/masked-mallards-the-multiverse-and-everything

Chapter 3

https://masked-mallards.tumblr.com/post/190654237374/masked-mallards-the-multiverse-and-everything

Chapter1

https://masked-mallards.tumblr.com/post/190578269234/masked-mallards-the-multiverse-and-everything

#fanfic #oc #darkwing duck #negaduck #fearsome five #gosalyn mallard #launchpad mcquack #scrooge mcduck #one shot #phantom blot

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mitchmarner · 4 years

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i too am loving all the mitch content... if you want to break up the photos, what are your three favorite things about him ?? :)

This ask never showed up on my mobile app so I didn’t see this until I logged into desktop but I’m so grateful to be asked this question, even if it’s cruel to choose three. Shit is about to get cheesy. Disclaimer that when I speak about something as fact, it’s just me assuming these things about him because I do not know him or what he’s like, I can only observe from what others who do know him say and from content of him over the years.

I really hope for everyone’s sanity that the read more works.

1.) The effect he has on everyone else and the position he fills on the team. I mean, besides the iconic JT quote about sometimes loving Mitch but sometimes wanting to punch him, it’s been made pretty evident by the rest of his teammates that he is so integral to their culture and bringing up everyone else around him. He always seems like he’s hyped up on 12 espresso shots and 4 handfuls of sugar and he spreads that around to everyone else. I just expect a shot of Mitch doing a really embarrassing dance in the dressing room in every single Blueprint video. Also you have him singing in the background of Zach’s interview without no reservations and he’s just pretty shamelessly himself at all times. He just seems like the kind of guy who can sit down with you and have a conversation as if you’ve known him for 12 years. He’s so easygoing; in my mind (because obviously I don’t know him to say this) he comes across as being pretty simple with what he needs to make him happy. He really loves hockey and playing for the Leafs, he loves being around his family and Steph and Zeus and his friends, and it just seems like he was blessed with a “why would I ever be sad when I have good friends and like my job?” mindset. He’s so good at passing along the ease and lightheartedness to everyone else.

2.) He’s really good at back-and-forth like he’s so funny just in watching him have conversations with people. We most often just get to see him in pre/post-games in which everyone is a robot because saying anything even remotely interesting in front of Toronto media starts shit, but in the videos where you do get to see him actually being himself without the pressure of a giant media scrum asking the same 5 questions, he’s so interesting. His Leaf to Leafs are so great (his one with Patty makes me want to cry and his one with Matt makes me laugh out loud- the peak example of how I imagine a lot of his conversations go is that banter about bringing a house to the island). I also ADORE this video of him. Every video of him in the Leafs chel tournament is really funny and he goes so hard. There’s so many moments of him being quick-witted and throwing out a funny side comment (I really love the Cabbie video from World Juniors where he mocks Dylan).

3.) He seems like a genuinely good person. He kinda wears his heart on his sleeve. Mitch is such an intentionally carefree and energetic person that when he becomes genuine, it really stands out. His relationship with Hayden was really beautiful, and I’m not going to expand on that in such a casual forum like this ask, but I will link the postgame where he talks about her in the end because he spoke very eloquently and meaningfully, and this older article about them. He cares about people and he cares what people think of him - not in a self-absorbed way, but in a way that he wants to be the best person he can be, and he very seriously considers the way people around him perceive him as a reflection of himself. I’ve never heard a bad word about the way he treats people - I remember in one SDP episode, they were talking about how loved Mitch is in Toronto and Steve said that someone around the Leafs confirmed what lots of others who work around the Leafs (media, insiders, whoever) say, which is that Mitch is genuinely really kind to every single person he meets. I really like the saying about who you are as a person can be displayed in how you treat people that can do nothing for you, and by all available accounts of people who have interacted with Mitch, he’s respectful and kind to everyone he meets.

4.) Screw the rules, I’m doing 4. I can’t just not address his hockey. There’s a really great Athletic article I don’t feel like finding the link to at the moment that is about him in general but details how hard-working he is and how he brings trainers on vacation and how on New Year’s Eve when the Leafs were in I think Vegas, Mitch was working out with a trainer rather than being out partying (I mean, I’m sure he went out and partied after, but the point being that he didn’t until he put in the work for hockey first). You don’t make it into the NHL by not putting in the work, but his dedication is always admirable. But more importantly, watching Mitch play hockey is amazing. He’s always a few plays ahead of everyone else, and his highlights are the kinds that you could show to someone who has never watched hockey and they’ll be really drawn in. It’s so funny watching really old highlight reels of him when he’s like 13 or 14 and he’s this tiny force showing up everyone else on the ice. This article where it says Mitch was a year younger than his teammates in peewee and 85 pounds compared to one of his teammates, who was over a foot taller and 160 pounds, and those were the kinds of guys Mitch was on the ice against… I have thoughts about that. I know everyone jokes now about Mitch being small but even though he has a small frame, he really isn’t short/skinny compared to other guys in the league and he’s filled out a lot, but it’s crazy to know how much hockey he went through where he was just set up to be killed on the ice. It’s cool to watch old videos of him absolutely slicing through these giant guys because he doesn’t have to be scared of their hits, since his skating and puck skills are a billion times better. His dekes and creative playmaking were why I started paying so much attention to him in the first place, and I just want to watch him work on skills all day. It’d be so cool seeing what he’s capable of considering what he can do in a time-sensitive, high-paced game (my Mitch for the ASG hopes are definitely non-existent for the season with his slower start and now being out until December, but next year please). There's a lot more I could say, but I just really appreciate a lot of really good qualities he has. Plus, I love the frog in his mouth and dumb red bull hats and I love listening to him talk because he has a really nice voice.

#ask #i am... so sorry #thank you so much for asking this question holy shit #what its like to be my friend is to get texts like these too often

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dreamchoerry · 5 years

Text

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT EACH LOONA MEMBER

HEEJIN

ah our beautiful centre

i admire this girl so much for everything she does

she is so so so talented

basically a full package - beautiful singer, dancer and personality

since she debuted first out of loona i’m sure that it must have been extremely hard for her to promote as loona literally came out of nowhere

always lovingly supporting her members

VISUALLLSSSSS

vivid was an absolute bop

OH MY GOSH YES

SAY OH MY GOODNESs

went through some hard times in mixnine but still pushed through which i am extremely proud of

the center that loona deserves and needs

HYUNJIN

ah the bread lover

our beloved second member

first of all - what she did for heejin in mixnine was extremely brave and amazing and despite all the unnecessary hate she got for it; she did IT FOR HEEJIN’S GOOD

VISUAL GODDESS #2

also MAIN DANCER pop off!!!!!!!

her voice is absolutely beautiful

like around you was such a beautiful song?!!!!!???

like woowwwwww

this bih is also so EXTRA

like same

her personality is also relatable and funny and she always cracks me up

give this girl a lot more love orbits because she truly truly truly deserves it

i honestly can’t wait to see more of her talent in future comebacks, hyunjin is truly talented!!???

HASEUL

ah the mother and leader of loona

first of all VOCAL QUEENNNNN!!!!!!

have you heard this woman sing opera?!????!!

she honestly hits those high notes with such ease

i honestly cried when i heard her angelic voice

also let me in was such a beautiful mv and song

VIsuAL goddess #3

i always love how she’s takes care of the members especially yeojin and vivi

also she is so kind and beautiful and talented

yg can shut up

also have you seen this girl in loona’s appearances on variety shows so far?

like i can’t believe she wants to be in a cf for a bank

we stan an ambitious queen

YEOJIN

ah the loud maknae

this child is honestly such a crackhead

but i love her so much

i honestly got biaswrecked by her so much in the favOrite mv

she’s loud asf but she is honestly so kind and caring and cute

like i just want to squish her cheeks and keep her in my pocket

this girl is deadass only 16 but so so so so talented

also ehm ViSUALLL GODDESS #4

kiss later is such a bop as well

i loved everyhting about it

the only i would mention is that there weren’t enough frogs

please give our maknae heaps and heaps of love and support

debuting at such a young age has it’s hardships and obstacles so orbits shower our talented frog with the love that she deserves

VIVI

our robot queen

um Visual GOddess #5 obviously

such a precious cinnamon roll i swear

the fact that she came to South Korea to become a trainee when she wasn’t good at Korean

also she my poor baby had such a hard time during her trainee days she got through it!!!!

everyday i love you was the cutest song and i was deadass squealing the whole time

and have you seen this woman’s predebut model photos

we stan a world class model

extremely underrated tbh

so orbits give her all your support!!!

the cutest and most beautiful human being in the world

she is so talented and hardworking and i love her to death

KIM LIP

it’s kim lippington!!!!!

she made me her bitch during eclipse

like everything about that song and mv was perfection

one of my fave loona songs for sure

main dancer can get it

also her vocals are so gorgeous???!!!!!

she can pull off any look tbh

VISUal GOddess #6

she’s so talented and beautiful, basically a full package

the amount of love that she receives from orbits makes me so happy

from loonatv it is so obvious to see how hardworking she is

and how much she cares about her members even when she’s not the oldest

basically i love this girl so much and i know she will absolutely slay the next comeback

JINSOUL

our beautiful blue beta fish

singing in the rain was the biggest bop and such a beautiful mv

we stan a mermaid guys

VISUALLLL GODDESSSS #7

i think she basically ruined everyone when she debuted

i don’t blame anyone though

i died and was resurrected ten times while watching that video

humble queen

also she says her charm is being dumb but was really smart at school???!?!?!?!

doesn’t give herself enough credit

super talented: can play the piano, dance, sing like an angel and dance with an eyepatch on

overall this girl is such a sweetheart and she deserves all the love from orbits all over the world

CHOERRY

finally the time has come for my biassss

CHOI YERIM is literally the most amazing, beautiful girl ever

VIsual GOddesss #8

like i just literally fell in love with her since love cherry motion

WHICh is SUch A bOp

that PURPLE DRESS

and the beat drop!!!!!

she is so positive and kind and beautiful and adorable

you can tell from a mile away how much she loves every single one of members

it has come to my attention that choerry’s vocals are so so so so gorgeous and it just shocks that she doesn’t get more lines

bbc please

once again a full package: dancing, visuals, vocals

also have you seen her purple hair in the xx teaserrrr!!!!!!!

YVES

MAIN DANCER SWAN!!!!!!

dude this girl

dude

first of all VISUAL GODDESSS!!!!

new was such an amazing and unique song and i loved every second of it

she’s is such an amazing dancer and so graceful just like her representative animal lol

i’m so glad she’s getting alot of appreciation for her dancing, visuals and vocals

also her vocals!!!!! have you heard the high notes she has done!!!!

CHUU

and now it comes to literally the cutest girl alive

you’re lying if you say that she hasn’t bias wrecked you yet

VISUAL GODDESS #10

CHUURIAH CAREY !!!!!

her vocals are just amazing. she has such wonderful voice colour and thos high notes she sometimes hits are absolutely amazing

has such a cute face and personality

but when a badass song comes on she literally changes

like have you seen fancams of her performing favOrite

like woowwww

i love like choerry how chuu would be one of the people to cheer up her members especially when things get hard

GOWON

yesss the crunchy queen

first of all the biggest crackhead and dork in loona

don’t fight me on that

she is such a kid hahahah

VISUAL GODDESS #11

but literally her vocals and her rapping voice is so unique

they’re both crunchy

dude even her normal speaking voice is crunchy

but seriously she is such a talented member and i’m so so so glad she debuted with loona

also i’m so excited to see her in this next comeback

like whoooo let’s go orbits

OLIVIA HYE

we have arrived at the last member

aka as our baby wolf

aka as my biaswrecker

first of all VISUAL GODDESS #12 (let’s be real everyone in loona is a visual)

egoist has to be my favorite loona solo song

like the aesthetics and the mv were sooo goodddd

she may only be the 2nd youngest but this girl can pop off

like her part in hi high and favorite and love4eva

we STANNNN

also another dork

we stan a gamer girl

deadass olivia’s voice is so unique and i love her and her voice so much!!!!

#loona #orbits #loona 1/3 #loona yyxy #loona oec #heejin #hyunjin #haseul #yeojin #vivi #kimlip #jinsoul #choerry #yves #chuu #gowon #olivia hye

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room-on-broom · 5 years

Note

Hi, your vampire!hb drawings are amazing! For the au ask: What do you think about hb on a (your favourite) space ship?

I’ve only just saw this ask this afternoon I am so sorry! here we go!

The Tuesday had been normal. Extremely boringly normal… until it got really weird. One moment Mildred had been nipping to the shops for her mum, then she swept along in the adventure. And not a fun one. Sure she’d made a new friends in Maud and Tabby at least. But Maud was purple. Tabby was actually Kit-10, a robot. And people had DIED. Aliens. Witches. Robots. The woods coming to life. An angry lady in an almost Edwardian black dress. Magic… Mum would be back at the flat (if there was still a flat!) wondering where she was.

Right now though, they need to be going. Earlier she’d seen the witchy looking lady ( Maud had said she was her teacher, but she looked like no teacher Mildred had ever seen) had given Maud a bottle of red stuff then vanished. Later cornered the green alien tree thing, Maud had thrown a bottle of red stuff at it and yelled “Run!”

Mildred had done as she was told but not knowing where to go had followed Maud. The potion had given them a head start on the monster but not much. Mildred could hear it not far behind them as they tore down the back alleys, roaring and knocking over wheelie bins.

“It’s a dead end this way!” Mildred gasped. They were zigzagging toward the scrap yard Mil knew the gates where high and locked. Normally. Someone had left them open and Maud dragged her on regardless. Then Mildred saw what they were aiming for. It was wooden and blue and had not been there this morning when she’d cycled past.

“But it’s box!”

“Just Come on!” Maud urged. And yanked her inside and slammed the door. Mildred put all her small weight against it barricading it shut. “Hover! Up and AWAY!”

Mildred was almost thrown back at the lurch. The alien must have hit the door.

“How will this help? It can smash though walls!”

“Not these ones! We’re not in that place in time and space anymore, we’ve moved.” Maud grinned. “Or are moving? HB was ready with a transfer at any rate-“

“Why is there a human in here?!”

Both Mildred and Maud jumped at the voice and turned around.

“Mistress!”

Mildred fell to the floor as Maud ran up to her teacher. A teacher stood with her arms folded looking even more cross the she’d done earlier.

“Let me re phrase that,” she said coldly. “Why have you brought that particular untidy and clumsy non-magical human child in here on to my ship?”

But Mildred wasn’t paying attention. Instead of the inside of a shed or a cupboard like she’d expected the inside of the blue box was- well it was hard too describe. But it was enormous!

A stone cavern that had been built into, Metal and brass and wood and glass floor runways. but as if it had grown up from the rockface, lined with shelves of books and bottles and jars and cupboards looking Like a ancient library and a laboratory all in one. Candelabras hung High above from a Ceiling like hallowed hall dotted with a galaxy of stars, lighting the place in soft oranges and blues. In the centre, where Maud and the ‘HB’ stood, There was a large pink and silver crystal Colom stretching from the floor below to almost the roof. It moved slowly up and downas if the very place was breathing. A big table or alter hugged the middle of it, covered in instruments and strange systems.

“Maud Warlock Moonshine Spellbody There is absolutely no excuse-!”

“But she is magic! I saw her! She’s what Agatha’s cronies, were after not me.”

“So you brought her here?!”

“She was in trouble! I couldn’t leave just her. And she helped me earlier! I think she knows where the others are.”

Mildred blinked, turning back to her new friend. Maud was apparently trying to vouch for her. Judging by glare, the Time Witch was not impressed.

“Think? Is this some kind of joke?” she said approaching Mildred.

“it’s -it’s-“ Mildred stammered.

“Bigger on the inside. Yes, I’m aware, heard it all before.” Snapped the stranger. Suddenly she grabbed Mildred’s hand and dragging her up the steps to the middle of the room, and held her hand onto a handle forcing it down. “Hold that down. Do not let go under any circumstance.”

She then addressed Maud stalking around the console. “Humans are trouble. That one will be trouble. You can’t keep them. Why isn’t it in a school? They have compulsory education in this era.”

“ ‘She’. Millie doesn’t have school Mistress.” Maud shrugged. She was taking the collection of things out her bag and carefully measuring them out into smoking pot that had sprung up from somewhere. ‘Tabby’ was next to her curled up on the table, his silver wire fur reflecting the light around it. If it was wasn’t for the cable plugged into his belly, he would look like he was asleep. “It’s something they call ‘sommer holladay’.”

“Oh, those. I don’t believe in them.” The lady scoffed and pulled a screen around to her, studying whatever gibberish it was saying intently. But said nothing else.

No one did for a while. For the first time since the high street had exploded, it was quiet. And time was slow. Mildred could catch her breath. Mildred could only hear Maud as she worked, tabby’s whirring purr. and some far away hum deep and rubbling. She Feel the vibrations up through her feet as if this big place were flying.

The woman didn’t relax, although she’d shed her elegant black cloak from earlier. Mildred took a better look at her. She stood as straight backed as ever, even more Tall and thin and all angles now without the robes. She wore a Black blouse with a high collar, its funny cuffs rolled up her for arms and a embraided black waist coat with matching- Mildred wasn’t sure if it was a tight long skirt or a pair of trousers but it matched. And Pocket watch too. but its chain went twice around the women waist with a bunch of keys attached, then looped around her neck so the watch hung down like a necklace. Hair piled up high on her head, and a pale profile with burgundy lipstick. She wasn’t pretty. But there was something handsome in her face, like the old paintings. There was the energy about her too, like a crouching panther or an oncoming snow storm…

A large book had popped into existence and hovered helpfully at the teacher’s side. She kept switching from reading it to adjusting the controls. All the while carefully watching Maud doing whatever it was Maud was doing and offering up the occasional instruction.

“Stir it three hundred and forty three degrees withershins. Then leave it half an witching hour and it should be done.”

“Will it be enough Mistress?” Maud asked, putting away her bits and bobs. A wave of her hand had the pot, precious contents and all stored neatly under the metal flooring.

“It’ll have to do.” Her teacher sighed. “It reverse some ot the effects at least.”

“Excuse me? Miss?” Mildred pipped up timidly. The lady’s head snapped up, as if she’d forgotten Mildred was there. “What’s going to happen to Rowen?”

“Who?” the stranger said.

“Her next door neiabour. He’s a frog.” Maud added helpfully.

“You live next door to a frog?” Her mistress said frowning at Mildred.

“No, he wasn’t a frog he was Rowan Webb but that thing-!” Mildred said. Suddenly she felt her eyes watering, the day catching up on her. “It- It turned Rowan in to a frog! He saved us but-! And the others-!”

A hanky on sprung out of the console , thrust in her face by a claw. Followed by a glass of water. Maud came around and hugged her tight.

“they’ll be fine.” The time witch said after a pause. Awkwardly. And possibly lying. “there there. don’t cry. You’re no use crying. Tell me exactly what you saw today.”

Mildred did albeit with a sniffle.

“Was that an alien?” She asked afterwards.

“Technically not for you. It originated from earth.” The lady sighed.

“Have we really moved? From the junk yard?”

“Yes. We transferred.”

“How?” Mildred asked.

“You would even understand if I told you so I’m not going to waste my breath.”

“So where are we?”

“No where yet I haven’t decided.”

“What about home? My Mum? All the people?” Mildred asked. “Who are you?”

“Oh will you stop asking questions I’m trying to concentrate!” the lady snapped standing up to tower over Mildred.

“Now now, HB.” Said a voice. A soft laughing voice that echoed around the console, the grey pink light flickering with each syllable. “She’s a child, be gentle with her.”

Mildred shrieked in surprise letting go of the lever.

Aliens. Witches. Robots. The woods. Magic. Up till now she’d coped quite well but now spaceships that talked was really far too much on top of everything else!

“I said Not to let that go.” ‘HB’ scowled. “It was a very simple instruction.”

“What will it do?” Maud asked helping Mildred to her feet.

“Absolutely nothing. I just needed her away from the door and not to wander off or break anything.” Maud’s teacher said.

The voice made a disagreeable noise. HB made one right back.

Only it sounded like a name.

“Ada...”

“Don’t worry. It’s only the CACKLE.” Maud reassured to Mildred in a stage whisper. “Part of the TARDIS interface. That’s what we’re in by the way. It stands for Time And Relative Dimi-”

HB glared at the girls, stopping Maud mid flow.

“Moonshine go make yourself useful and make some calming tea or something.” she grumbled. “The stray you’ve picked up is in shock!”

Maud shot off into the belly of the TARDIS with “Yes Miss Hardbroom.”

“You can’t keep calling the poor girl things like that!” CACKLE admonished. Mildred felt as if, even with no visible eyes, it was peering at her. Kindly at least. “…What is you name my dear? Maud called you ‘Millie’, is that correct?”

“I’m not calling her by Millie.” Miss Hardbroom insisted then addressed Mildred. “Haven’t you a proper name?”

Mildred was too stunned to speak. HB rolled her eyes and came around behind her; seizing her jumper by the scruff of her neck.

“Mildred Hubble.” The Time Witch read aloud from the sewn in name tag. with a sneer. She turned back to the console. “Fine. Welcome aboard Mildred Hubble. But you’re not staying! You’re here on a trial basis till I-”

“with our help.” The Cackle added.

“Till We Save your silly little planet.” HB finished but while still very grouchy when Hardbroom spoke again, her face and voice had gone all soft. “Once this is over, Mildred we’ll take you home to you mother. You’ll be safe here. Now. Hold on tight…”

(my fave ship is the tardis so allonsy!)

#worst witch #doctor who #tardis #hackle if you squint super hard maybe?#au #crossover #the worst witch #cakeeatingwingedcat #hecate hardbroom

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jayraephoenix · 7 years

Text

Rainbow

All his life the Engineer had been colour-blind. He only found out when he was five, and when his teacher told him to paint the frog a light shade of green. He ended up with a neon pink amphibian. How was he supposed to know the difference between the two shades of grey> When his parents found out, they were devastated; how was their son going to survive in a world without colour? Remarkably well, actually.

At the age of seven, he found his love for maths, and from there he moved onto circuitry in science. By the age of nine he’d built himself a robot who followed him around, much like a small dog. The way his mind worked was fascinating, but his real stroke of genius was at the age of thirteen.

After living so many years in a monotone world, why couldn’t he build something to fix his eyesight? He spent many hours in his room planning, calculating, making, until finally he’d solved his problem. He had created a pair of goggles that, when worn, acted like the three cones in a human eye, and let him see in full colour. He had some minor tweaks he need to mend, of course, but the first time he put them on he nearly cried. Everything was beautiful, and finally he fit in.

Except he didn’t.

Fast-forward years of bullying, either over his goggles, height, intellect, or some other stupid subject, and here he was, standing in front of his new workplace. He’d been approached by a lady in purple, who’d asked if he wanted to get paid for building machines. She didn’t even need to say anymore; he’d accepted as soon as she said the word ‘engineering’.

He wasn’t jumping into the deep end blindfolded though. He’d been smart enough to read the entire contract, including the small print, before signing anything, and once he’d put his name on the dotted line he received a welcome pack explaining his job, and what it implied. He was not allowed to tell anyone his name, but rather use the title of the ‘Engineer’, or talk about his private life and disclose sensitive information about himself, family and friends. This was completely fine by him. He’d also been provided with multiple blueprints, some things he need to build and others, like the one labelled ‘Respawn’, that were already in place and he just needed to maintain. Sure, he had to shoot at fellas in blue, but they wouldn’t die. At least, not permanently. That was what the impressively complex piece of machinery was for, bringing them back from beyond the grave.

When he arrived at his workplace, he was greeted by the same lady from before, and eight other mercenaries with a range of impressive skills suitable for their titles. There were two women amongst the men, the ones that he had to refer to as the Pyro and Spy. On the opposing team he learned they also had women fighting for them, but the classes were different: Medic and Scout. The old-fashioned Texan in him felt uncomfortable hurting a lady, but after seeing his own colleagues in the training room, the idea of them being vulnerable left him. These women were deadly.

Over the first few weeks of working with the RED, the Engineer had started to form professional relationships with some of the members of his team. He and the Doc got on quite well, as both were on the same level intellectually. He’d even made some improvements on his medigun, so the soft-speaking Texan was always welcome in the medibay. Another beneficial friendship he had was with the Pyro, which made sense. She was good at spy-checking, and often guarded his sentries while he went searching for scrap metal. Like the Heavy and Medic, the pair were an unstoppable duo.

It was a little more surprising that they spent a lot of free-time together, because they had next-to-nothing in common with one another. She was uneducated, he had seven PhDs, she was from England and he from the South, but somehow they could find things to talk about. She seemed to think of him as a father figure, and he was more than happy to spend time with the bubbly arsonist.

Day had become night, and after struggling to gain any ground against the BLU in the blistering heat, the Engineer was thankful to fall into his bed and sleep. His joints ached, his brain was buzzing, and when he’d managed to pull off most of his clothes he closed his eyes blissfully. Wearing overalls in the desert was crazy, but it was his uniform so couldn’t complain. Next were his goggles. No, he did not sleep in them, though sometimes he wished he could. Falling to sleep surrounded by colour would be a nice change to the bleak shades of grey.

He was starting to drift when a shy knocking rose him from this state. “What in tarnations…?” He asked nobody in particular as he sat up in his bed, turning his head to look at the door. The light was white against the dark wood, and standing he shuffled over to open it. He didn’t care all too much about his appearance- just pyjama bottoms were reasonable enough- so he opened the door without a second thought.

For a minute he was stunned into silence, and he could suddenly see as if he’d been blind before.

The Pyro stood in his doorway, clutching a pudgy unicorn and dressed in the official team pyjama’s, her symbol dotted over the fabric. It wasn’t seeing her that shocked him, but… It was HER that shocked him. Bathed in the hallway light, he could see the bright red of her clothing, the flush of colour on her cheeks, the dark brown of her short, slightly curly hair and how deep her eyes were, like chocolate he’d happily drown in. “Engie…?” She broke his train of thought with a single soft word. Her voice, unlike most women, was scratchy and rough, through a mixture of smoke inhalation and her fondness for cigarettes, but it surprisingly suited her. “Engie, I had… I had a nightmare. Can I stay with you tonight?” She squeezed the toy in her arms, which he’d noticed was pink. “U-Uh, yeah, ‘course yah can darlin’.” He held the door open for her, his mind still trying to process what was happening. He wasn’t wearing his goggles still, was he? No, she was the only thing in colour, and he could clearly see his goggles on the bedside table.

Closing the door, he watched as she put the unicorn down on his bed, only to crawl onto the sheets. When she let go of the soft toy it lost its colour, fading to a dull grey, but when she touched the duvet the crimson burst to life under her fingers, staining the material and brightening his bed. Anything she touched bloomed like a flower in spring, and he was in awe.

“What… What was yah dream about honey?” He asked, slowly sitting beside her. His hands were trembling, so he bunched the sheets beneath his fingers. “The BLU Spy. He was laughing at me, and I could see you… But you didn’t look like you. You were all grey, and you looked sad…” The Engineer breathed in deeply through his nose when she explained what she had seen; only the Medic knew about his condition, and that’s because he had access to his medical files. He wouldn’t be surprised if their own Spy knew too, the way she asked questions about his goggles. “Well I’m fine, don’t you worry ‘bout me. There ain’t any spies round here, ‘cept the one in her room.” “But what if he is here?” Worry was swimming in her eyes as she bit her lip, and he felt his heart break a little. “Well, I said that yah could stay the night, and I’m a man of mah word. If I see a Spy, I’ll wake yah up, yeah?” “Yeah.” She smiled a little, before leaning forward and giving him a hug. She usually tackled him into a bear hug if they won a match, so he wasn’t surprised by the gesture, but rather what it did to him. Returning the embrace, his eyes widened when he saw his skin start to brighten, basking in the colour the Pyro was unknowingly giving him.

The cuddle didn’t even stop, which was the best thing. He felt his nerves tingle when she pulled him down onto the bed with her, and shuffling a little closer he pulled the blankets over them both. She was warm, like a hot water bottle, and the way she lay her head on his chest made his heart go funny. Was it her touch that was causing his cheeks to heat up, or the fact that he could enjoy the sort of colours she was giving him without watching through a sheet of glass? He didn’t know, but he wasn’t too worried about searching for the answer.

Slowly running his fingers through her hair, he heard her let out a content sigh, relaxing into his touch. He wouldn’t mind her visiting more often, staying over the night to snuggle, nothing more. He’d always wanted to protect her (he supposed it was a part of his nature), but now she was even more precious to him. “Sweet dreams, mah little rainbow.”

#short story #team fortress 2 #tf2 pyro #tf2 engineer #tf2 pyro OC #engineer x pyro #Texas Toast #yes it is Firebug #shamelessly putting my oc in here #colourblind #fluff

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unionrising · 7 years

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4chan: The Skeleton Key to the Rise of Trump -- Trump’s younger supporters know he’s an incompetent joke; in fact, that’s why they support him.

Again, here we can understand this group as people who have failed at the real world and have checked out of it and into the fantasy worlds of internet forums and video games. These are men without jobs, without prospects, and by extension (so they declaimed) without girlfriends. Their only recourse, the only place they feel effective, is the safe, perfectly cultivated worlds of the games they enter. By consequence of their defeat, the distant, abstract concept of women in the flesh makes them feel humiliated and rejected. Yet, in the one space they feel they can escape the realities of this, the world of the video game, here (to them, it seems) women want to assert their presence and power.

Yiannopoulos’ rambling “arguments” against feminism, are not arguments at all, as much as pep talks, ways of making these dis-empowered men feel empowered by discarding the symbol of their failure — women. As an openly gay man, he argues that men no longer need be interested in women, that they can and should walk away from the female sex en masse. For example in a long incoherent set of bullet points on feminism he states: “The rise of feminism has fatally coincided with the rise of video games, internet porn, and, sometime in the near future, sex robots. With all these options available, and the growing perils of real-world relationships, men are simply walking away.”

Here Yiannopoulos has inverted what has actually happened to make his audience feel good. Men who have retreated to video games and internet porn can now characterize their helpless flight as an empowered conscious choice to reject women for something else. In other words, it justifies a lifestyle which in their hearts they previously regarded helplessly as a mark of shame.

Anon was going to get “SJW”s (ie. empowered women) out of their safe spaces — video games — the place from which they retreated from women by indulging in fantasies in which they were in control (that is to say, ones which demeaned women).

It was almost as if all these disaffected young men were waiting for a figure to come along who, having achieved nothing in his life, pretended as though he had achieved everything, who by using the tools of fantasy, could transmute their loserdom (in 4chan parlance, their “fail”), into “win”.

Trump supporters hold a different sort of ideology, not one of “when will my horse come in”, but a trolling self-effacing, “I know my horse will never come in”. That is to say, younger Trump supporters know they are handing their money to someone who will never place their bets — only his own — because, after all, it’s plain as day there was never any other option.

In this sense, Trump’s incompetent, variable, and ridiculous behavior is the central pillar upon which his younger support rests. Such an idea — one of utter contemptuous despair — is embodied in one image more than any other, one storied personage who has become a(n) hero to millions, the voice of a generation. I am speaking, of course, of Pepe the Frog.

The grotesque, frowning, sleepy eyed, out of shape, swamp dweller, peeing with his pants pulled down because-it-feels-good-man frog is an ideology, one which steers into the skid of its own patheticness. Pepe symbolizes embracing your loserdom, owning it. That is to say, it is what all the millions of forum-goers of 4chan met to commune about. It is, in other words, a value system, one reveling in deplorableness and being pridefully dispossessed. It is a culture of hopelessness, of knowing “the system is rigged”. But instead of fight the response is flight, knowing you’re trapped in your circumstances is cause to celebrate. For these young men, voting Trump is not a solution, but a new spiteful prank.

We know, by this point, that Trump is funny. Even to us leftists, horrified by his every move, he is hilarious. Someone who is all brash confidence and then outrageously incompetent at everything he does is — from an objective standpoint — comedy gold. Someone who accuses his enemies of the faults he at that very moment is portraying is comedy gold. But, strangely, as the left realized after the election, pointing out Trump was a joke was not helpful. In fact, Trump’s farcical nature didn’t seem to be a liability, rather, to his supporters, it was an asset.

All the left’s mockery of Trump served to reinforce his message as not only an outsider, but as an expression of rage, despair, and ultimate pathetic Pepe-style hopelessness.

4chan’s value system, like Trump’s ideology, is obsessed with masculine competition (and the subsequent humiliation when the competition is lost). Note the terms 4chan invented, now so popular among grade schoolers everywhere: “fail” and “win”, “alpha” males and “beta cucks”. This system is defined by its childlike innocence, that is to say, the inventor’s inexperience with any sort of “IRL” romantic interaction. And like Trump, since these men wear their insecurities on their sleeve, they fling these insults in wild rabid bursts at everyone else.

Trump the loser, the outsider, the hot mess, the pathetic joke, embodies this duality. Trump represents both the alpha and the beta. He is a successful person who, as the left often notes, is also the exact opposite — a grotesque loser, sensitive and prideful about his outsider status, ready at the drop of a hat to go on the attack, self-obsessed, selfish, abrogating, unquestioning of his own mansplaining and spreading, so insecure he must assault women. In other words, to paraphrase Truman Capote, he is someone with his nose pressed so hard up against the glass he looks ridiculous.

But, what the left doesn’t realize is, this is not a problem for Trump’s supporters, rather, the reason why they support him. Trump supporters voted for the con-man, the labyrinth with no center, because the labyrinth with no center is how they feel, how they feel the world works around them. A labyrinth with no center is a perfect description of their mother’s basement with a terminal to an endless array of escapist fantasy worlds.

Trump’s bizarre, inconstant, incompetent, embarrassing, ridiculous behavior — what the left (naturally) perceives as his weaknesses — are to his supporters his strengths. In other words, Trump is 4chan. Trump is steering into the skid embodied. Trump is Pepe. Trump is loserdom embraced.

Support for Trump is an acknowledgement that the promise is empty.

In other words, we can append a third category to the two classically understood division of Trump supporters: 1) Generally older people who naively believe Trump will “make America great again”, that is to say, return it to its 1950s ideal evoked by both Trump and Clinton. 2) The 1 percent, who know this promise is empty, but also know it will be beneficial to short term business interests. 3) Younger members of the 99 percent, like Anon, who also know this promise is empty, but who support Trump as a defiant expression of despair.

To the deplorables, whose central complaint is one of masculine frailty, pride, and failure - to deny their identities as men is to deny their complaint. They are a group who define themselves by their powerlessness, by being trapped into defeat.

in post-war hyper-capitalist 1950s America (the baseline America to which both Trump and Hillary harken back) a new role was invented for men. A man’s wage and his Playboy “bachelor pad” linked his earning potential to his role as a ladies man. This replaced a previous, more conservative ideology in which your earning potential meant you were able to support a wife and children. These two schemes, Ehrenreich maintained, are still the dominant ideas that control men’s behavior in the U.S.

Recall the central themes of Gamergate: women represent Anon’s “beta” failure in capitalism. Anons have achieved neither of these ideological ideals; they are not playboys with bachelor pads or wage earners with families. If the U.S. were in fact what it pretended to be, that is to say, the best way to become either the playboy or the family man, Anon would not exist. But it is this gap between ideological expectation and cruel reality which created him. Instead, Anon resides in the very opposite of bachelor pads: his mother’s basement. We learned from the New Yorker profile of the alt-right leader Mike Cernovich, that he broadcasts from his girlfriend’s parent’s house, letting his male viewers believe the pool in the background of his webcasts is his, not theirs.

To the deplorables, whose central complaint is one of masculine frailty, pride, and failure — to deny their identities as men is to deny their complaint. They are a group who define themselves by their powerlessness, by being trapped into defeat. But if they are to accept the left’s viewpoint, they must accept that the problem at core of their being is all in their heads. That is to say, the left’s viewpoint of sexual-difference-as-illusion is exactly what they don’t want to hear — that they have cornered themselves into their mother’s basements.

The notion of sexual-difference-as-illusion is not performing the work it was built to do, rather the opposite. Ironically, it works to convince alienated men that sex/gender has marked them as a unique sort of outsider/failures, who cannot be accepted even into the multicultural coalitions that define themselves by their capacity for acceptance. In this way, 4chan’s virulent hatred of gender-bending “safe spaces”, though not justified, makes at least a perverse sort of sense, one tangled in wounded masculine pride.

https://medium.com/@DaleBeran/4chan-the-skeleton-key-to-the-rise-of-trump-624e7cb798cb

https://antropolemico.wordpress.com/2017/01/22/donald-pepe-e-la-guerra-dei-meme/

#pepe the frog #losers #stop trump #gamergate #yiannopoulos

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