#* ( study. jim starling. )

[o-dandelion-o]

Finally done with my little big study of Ken Sugimori’s traditional watercolor style from his earliest Pokemon paintings before he transitioned to digital. Real watercolor is hard to emulate and I know it’s not 100% but it’s always room for improvement later on ✨🌷

[ezkezpez]

Another scene study. Im finding these so useful for learning

[raeloganthesonic06fangirl]

How often do you think Quackerjack goes to the dentist?

Judging by how pleasantly well kept and gleaming those teeth are, I'd have to assume either quite often, or he practices oral hygiene very well and probably flosses more than anyone else does. Also, he brushes his little chattering teeth, so I assume he'd at least take care of his own as well.

I actually, interestingly enough, had this elaborate headcanon for DT17!QuackerJack that stems entirely on the possibility that the in-universe actor for the in-universe version of DWD was the one who might have been injured on set during one of the stunts (perhaps a spiral fractured femur or a lower back injury), retired from acting because of said injury, and later studied and became a pediatric dentist, where he can still make children smile, and has a basket of toys to give out the the patients as well as the pay for this sort of job would help cover the expenses of the consequences of the injury he had, and also it would be a job he could sit down at and not constantly agitated the old injury as much. Also, swivel chair, that's important.

His name would be "Mike Bill", to emulate the naming convection of Jim Starling.

Mostly based around this segment in "Beware the B.U.D.D.Y. System" episode:

In which QuackerJack eats the pavement and doesn't move for the rest of the scene. So I thought maybe he was who Jim was referring to with the quip "one little boo boo, and they fall right to pieces" in the later episode. Co-star gets hurt, leaves the show, others follow suit, budget drops, no one will answer casting call because word gets out that Jim injured another actor during a stunt on accident, and that leads to Jim having to do all the acting and shoddy editing for the final episode that he was screening at the furniture store?

... Obviously, I didn't want to get my hopes up with such an elaborate thought, so I never really did much with the idea beyond writing it down to get it out of my head after the "The Duck Knight Returns" episode aired, since that all came about on one continuous train of thought. It's a curse. 👀

Anyway, dentists. I think QuackerJack probably either takes good enough care of his own teeth, or at the very least, someone in his family could be in the orthodontics profession.

... Then again, there is that one moment where his teeth straight up ran out of his face and while it might be a gag, it might also be hinting that he's got dentures from poor self care habits, and probably why his beak is way too soft here too, since that CAN'T be healthy.

Or it could just be a gag for the sake of being a gag. Because ha ha screaming teeth funny.

Who knows? This show never had any solid continuity, Darkwing's got like three origin stories that are likely fake.

[bandgeek4life8]

Guardians - chapter two the lost city of atlantis

Chapter 1

WC: 3, 453

Season 1, Episode 2: The Lost City of Atlantis

Previously on Guardian in Jim's POV "The Nightmares have emerged once more." Pabbie told everyone.

"GREAT GRONKA MORKA!!" Blinky exclaimed.

"And they attend to assimilate an army. They already have the witch Gothel, the bogeyman Pitch Black, the dragon tamer Drago Bludvist with his mother of dragons Red Death, the prince Hans of Southern Isles and Duke of Weselton, the cursed bear Mor'du, the Pirate "Captain Hook" Killian James, and the Boggan Mandrake. And I have a list of who they want. From my visions. But only two people I wish to say it to: Vendel and... James Lake Jr. Because she wishes it."

"Who wishes for me to know?" I asked him.

"Starling."

Some people are chosen for this life and have no choice but to accept its transgressions. Others spend their life completely in the dark about this life we lead. Some, like me, choose to live this life. It is a lot of work for anybody. Not just anybody can get into this life and survive its trials and tribulations. But we were born for this. To become guardians. But I'm not a guardian yet. I'm just an apprentice.

|{[INSERT_OPENING_SEQUENCE]}|

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Druidia Order." I announced.

"Did you have to name us after a planet in your favorite Star Wars movie?" asked the raven-haired time-traveller Wilbur Robinson.

"Spaceballs is not a Star Wars movie, Wilbur." Currently undercover spy, Walter Beckett told him.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Did your dad teach you anything about Star Wars?" asked blonde enpath/ hockey-player from Wisconsin, Riley Anderson.

"Only that he hated the sequels, he loves the originals, and respects what the prequels tried to do." Wilbur said.

"Can we please get to the topic at hand please?" I asked everyone.

Everyone in the room grumbled out a yes and we continued with the precedings. Wow. That sounds way too formal for me.

"Well what can we do? We already made allies with the Arendelle trolls via Elsa and Anna. We had Grand Pabbie alert the Trollhunter of the Nightmares." said Ted Wiggins.

"Which means a group of you have to go find the essence stones." Megamind appeared with a plate of, "who wants cookies?"

"Are you growing soft on us, Meg?" Megamind basically growled at Wilbur for the nickname he used.

"I am trying to babysit Gru's oldest daughter and her friends." Megamind told him looking the kid dead in the eye.

"What do you know of the essence stones?" I asked him, ignoring the intense staredown happening between the two makes.

Megamind turned his attention away from Wilbur only for the time-traveller to blow a raspberry at him and Megamind to turn back and glare at him I rolled my eyes. The same old stupid antics. "I know where you can find the essence stone of the ocean."

"If you tell me we have to befriend Poseidon or-."

"It's in Atlantis." Megamind said.

"Or that." I facepalmed. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I have an evil underwater lair in the city of Atlantis." Cue another facepalm from me.

"And why...? You know what? I don't want to know. So how are we getting there?" I asked.

"It's not a matter of how we, but rather how who is getting there." Megamind said.

"That makes no sense whatsoever, dude." Hiro said as he walked into the room followed by Lucy Tuchi.

"Some of us will go on the mission while the rest research the rest of the essence stones." Megamind suggested.

"You know... your ideas are normally terrible. But this one is actually a good idea." Wilbur told him.

The alien growled. "Easy now, Megamind. When we heading out? And who is coming along for the ride?"

"You, Rayla, Ezran, Callum, Sisu, Hiccup, Jack, Light Furry, Walter, and Toothless." Megamind told us. "And you will leave tomorrow. After school."

"Alright. Before we do anymore planning, I need pizza." I walked over to where Hiro plopped the pizza on.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL HERE]}| "

I cannot believe he has the audacity for this! He knows we're not on the best of terms, and yet he does this." I sighed.

"I'm sure he has a reason." said Hiro.

"It's Megamind. It's a stupid-ass reason." I told him.

Hiro sighed. "But you miss hanging out with Toby and Jim. And you-."

"Don't even finish that sentence. I know what you were going to say." Hiro gapped at me. "I know what you were going to say. Only three people know it. And one betrayed me."

My phone vibrated in my hoodie's pocket and I opened it up to see a text from my grandmother, Margaret. "Is that Marge? What she said?"

"She's wondering about the you-know-what with the you-know-who." I told him. She wants to know about James Lake Jr being the Trollhunter. Grandpa would not be pleased with this anyway. But he's dead. And he doesn't matter.

"You have gym next block right?" I groaned. Of course I forgot. And why of all days did we have to do the Pacer test today!

"And we're doing the pacer test today too!" I would have banged my head on a locker if we weren't coming from History. "Kill me now! Woe is me!"

"Stop being overdramatic. And I'm off my way to Robotics." Hiro said once we got to the hall where we would part ways.

"Don't take over the world of robotics without your team first." I called out to gim.

"Yeah, yeah. Just focus on making chemistry after gym, but preferably during." the smart-ass called back.

I'm gonna kill him one of these days. Just you wait, Hiro Hamada. I grumbled and continued on my way to the ends of the earth. Also known as gym. Because I lack the athletic ability of a worm. My arms are basically noodles before submerged in H20. I got dressed in my PE clothes and walked outside to the bleachers where I plopped myself down on. Gym. The one class I don't have my safety net to catch me. The one block where I feel alone. Completely and helplessly alone.

"Hey, [Y/N]. Mind if we sit here?" asked Toby.

It was just him and Jim. What on Earth are they up to? I scooted some ways away from my spot and patted the spot beside me. Jim took the spot beside me while Toby took the bench in front of us.

"We haven't hung out just the three of us in awhile, huh?" Toby remarked.

"You both seem busy since the semester started. I can't blame you for that one."  I told them. The pair shrugged at me, but it was a lying shrug. I would know. I do the same ones. "Anyway, what are we doing for our History Project, Jamie?" I looked over at him.

"I don't know. Wanna brainstorm some ideas after school?" Jim asked me.

"Can't. I have a family thing." Lying to them has gotten harder since I found out. Hopefully they don't catch. But they're idiots. They won't catch on... I hope. "I can come over tomorrow after school if you want."

"That... Th-th-th-that'll be gr-gr-gr-great." What's with the stammer? It's weird. "Oh, don't forget about Pig Zombies on Saturday."

"Don't worry. I have it all set in my calendar. So, what time is the movie?" I asked them.

Toby and Jim shared a look. Oh that is never good. "We don't actually know."

"Then, what are we going to do about Saturday?" I asked them.

"We're more of idea men." Like they're any close to being men. "Creating a plan is someone else's problem." Of course.

"You two haven't changed at all, have you? I'll get to work on that sometime this evening. You guys still have email, righr?" I asked them.

"Who still uses e-mail anymore?" Toby inquired.

"Good point. I'll just have Lucy drive us to the theater anyway." I replied. "So, how are you and Claire going, Jamie?"

"O-o-o-oh, m-m-me and Claire?" stammered Jim. That's strange.

"Yes, you and Claire. You two are dating, aren't you?" I asked him.

"Oh, y-y-yeah. We're g-g-g-good." Hmm. Peculiar. But Jim's always been like this when pertaining to Claire. Nothing suspicious about that.

I hope.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

Jim

"So, you have a study date with [Y/N] tomorrow huh?" Claire teased me while we walked to Blinky's library.

"What-. Wait! You told her!" I exclaimed to Toby who was on my left side.

"Of course, I did. Dude, you've been hopelessly obliviously in love with this girl since she stole your first kiss on the monkey bars when we were nine. And she-."

"She clearly has feelings for you, but she's not gonna act upon them since you know we're fake dating and all that jazz." Claire said.

I sighed. "You're the smart one. Couldn't you have come up with something... um... better?"

"What? Because a wuss like you was going to ask her out if I didn't say we were dating?" Claire asked him, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

I sighed once more. She clearly had a point. And Tobes seemed to catch it too. "He tried to ask her if she wanted to go see Pig Zombie 6 for her sixteenth birthday, but dragged me along with them because he wussed out of calling it a date."

Claire tapped her chin in thought. I do not understand girls. Then, she did the thing where you smack your fist against your hand in an aha! idea moment. Which is what transpired next. "I have a perfect idea for your movie date on Saturday."

"Am I going to regret this?" I asked her.

"I hope not. I'm helping you whether you want me to or not." Yea me! Internal frown.

We made it Blinky's library in which the four arm troll was talking animatedly to Vendell. About Essence Stones? What the fuzz buckets are those?

"Um, what are the Essence Stones?" I piped up.

"The Essence Stones are the only thing that can combat the Oncoming Storm." Vendel explained.

"Which is why we should be looking for them! We already know where one is! The Sea Stone!" Blinky told him.

"I already told you the Starling has this under control. This is her fight. Not ours. We shouldn't-."

"But then why have Pabbie tell us about the resurgence anyways?!" Blinky cut him off. I don't think Blinky has ever interrupted Vendel before. This is a first.

"Because to warn us of an even greater danger, Blinkous!! One that we have to face on our own! As Trolls!" the elder roared.

I never saw a look of fear as intense as the look that crossed Blinky's face when Vendel told him that. A greater danger? Even Aaarrrggghh! and Draal had the same look as Blinky. What did it all mean? Vendel left the library.

"I don't care what the goat says. We're getting the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"And how do we acquire it?" asked Claire.

"Hate Gyre." Aaarrrgghh! cried. Oh.

"And where would we find the Sea Stone?" Toby asked. "It's underwater right? And we can't breathe in water? So is it in an aquarium? Washed up on a beach?"

"I'll tell you where when we get to the Gyre." Claire, Toby, and I shared a look before shrugging our shoulders and following Blinky to the Gyre.

When we got there, we reached the Gyre and hopped in. "So, where are we going?"

"Under the sea. In an underwater palace where there is no water inside located in what you humans refer to as The Bermuda Triangle. Get ready for Atlantis." And before the three of us could protest, Blinky put in the coordinates and we zipped off towards... did he really say Atlantis? And the Bermuda Triangle?

But I didn't have time to question it as we arrived in a palace? And our clothes were soaking wet. But we never submerged in water? You know what? I shouldn't question it. Me and my friends huddled for warmth. It'll be awhile before we're dry. But why isn't- you know what? Never mind. I don't care.

"Okay, so where do we go first?" asked Toby.

"We head for the treasure room. The Jewel of Atlantis is the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"Why are we wet, but you aren't?" asked Claire.

"No clue." Blinky shrugged his shoulders.

The three of us grumbled but followed after Blinky with Aaarrrgghh! and Draal taking the rear. This is going to be a long evening. Our little group trudged, our squeaky footprints giving our location to anyone who would be here. And I think someone was here. Because a familiar ball of silver and blue was charging at us. Not us. Me. Followed by a march larger greenish-blue dragon.

"Hi, Azymondias." I said to the baby dragon when he jumped into my arms.

"I see you humans have already met the Prince. Starling's Zym seems to like you Mr Lake." the green-ish blue dragon said. Um... do dragons normally...

"YOU TALK?!?!" Thanks for that, Tobes.

"Of course, I do. I'm Sisu. Starling sent me after Little Azymondias to make sure he stayed out of trouble." Why aren't Blinky, Aarrrgghh!, and Draal freaking out about there being another dragon? And the elf being here?

"You six, now-seven, looking for the Treasure Room?" asked Sisu.

I shivered as a breeze went by. Why was there a breeze? We're in a dry castle underwater! This is just too weird.

"We were headed that way right now!" Blinky told the dragon.

Azymondias coughed. Or sneezed? I don't know. But he zapped me and I yelped and I'm... dry? Well alot dryer than before. Uh, thank you. Living dryer thay could kill me at any given moment. But you're still cute. So you're forgiven if you do.

"Well I wouldn't go that way! That's where Meg put his evil lair at." Sisu told us.

"Lair?" "Meg?"

"Meg is what the time-traveler calls Megamind. And he placed a lair here when he was going through his 'evil' phase." I did not know Dragons did air quotes.

"Time Traveler? Like the Doctor? Or Loki?" askes Toby.

"Looks like a mix of Matt Smith and Loki as a tween with too much hair gel. Alright, kids follow me." Sisu told us.

Zym appeared on my shoulder, wrapping his small body around on my shoulder and we followed the hopping dragon towards the treasure room. We had reached the treasure room, avoiding all the traps (that was on the ceiling for some strange reason). We arrived there. And Sisu peered inside before letting us enter. Strange.

But I couldn't help peering over Sisu's sboulder "Are you really angry that the Trollhunter keeps unknowingly stealing your pet?" That sounded like... no it can't be.

"Azymondias is not my pet. My pet sounds like I chose to take care of him. The bundle of zappy madness chose me to take care of him. So if anything, I'm his pet." Please tell me that's not who I think it is. But the-I'm guessing- Startouch Elf looks nothing like her. Not one bit. Well maybe except for the nose. And the eyes.

"You make absolutely no sense. And yet you love him anyway." the other voice said. A male with slick-back hair. This must be the time-traveler Wow. Sisu was spot on.

"Kids, easy now. We wouldn't want this to get into the wrong hands. Not this close to the Cotillion." A brunette male that appeared to be the oldest of the group. Why does he look so familiar to me?

"I have a question for you, pig snout. Meg said you wouldn't be here. Why the hell are you here? And why are you even here?" the elf asked.

"I stowed away because none of you are smart." the time-traveller said.

"Says the royal dumbass." the female elf sighed. "I'm so young and yet I feel so old." she emphasized. I was half expecting her to do a dramatic fall like they always seem to do in soap operas notthatIwatchsoapoperasinthefirstplacethat'sabsurd.

"I already knew that, dumbass." time-traveler said.

"Go on, Trollhunter." Sisu used her tail to push me toward the elf's group to retrieve the essence stone. "Introduce yourself."

And suddenly I stumbled upon the room making the group's attention turn to me. "Um...hi." Cue the awkward wave. "I'm... James Lake Jr? I'm the... Trollhunter." I held out the Amulet of Merlin. I could practically sense Toby and Claire facepalming at this.

"Starling, I think this one is for you to handle." I now noticed the brunette boy that stood beside the other elf. Is that... Callum Schlott?? Um... I hope if that is him, he doesn't tell [Y/N] about this.

"I am the one they refer to as Starling as you must know. And we don't need you here. To help us." The girl's hand were running up and down a strand of her waist length periwinkle hair. [Y/N] did the same thing when she had long hair. Not the time Jim.

"I think we do. Because the Seastone is missing if you've forgotten." the other elf said. She sounds like Rayla. And sort of looks like her too.

"THE SEASTONE IS GONE!?!?!?" Blinky exclaimed.

"Unfortunately so. Now, one advantage turns out to be a setback." I didn't notice the other brunette who had a black dragon that was acting like a cat by his feet.

"Do you have any leads?" asked Claire as she stepped forward.

"Just a Roman Penny. No clue from where though." Starling told us. "Now, I think it's time you kids return to California. Don'tyouthink."

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

"So Atlantis was a flopp?" I had already told Draal about the whole atlantis situation.

Luckily mom had another night shift at the hospital, so Draal could walk around freely while I made dinner for myself. Elbow Pasta and Meat Sauce it appears to be.

"Yes, it was, Draal." I turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels to find the one I wanted. "At least, I met Starling. She was not what I was expecting."

"Most elves aren't. You humans expect them to be small and cute because of the Claus, but they aren't." Draal told me.

"Actually, I think," I found what I was looking for. The French food competition show the World's Greatest Chef Competiton. "she was the exact opposite of what all of you were saying. Sure she was a tad harsh to us, but I think she didn't want to involve us in the Essence Stones. Like she didn't want anymore added help. I don't know." A knock sounded on the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" asked Draal.

"Not that I know. Toby and Claire wouldn't knock. They'll just barge on in." I told him.

And before I got to the door, the door opened to reveal a boy with white hair, incredibly pale skin wearing a blue sweatshirt and brown trousers. "Don't be such a pussy, Hiccup." That was Sisu.

"Yeah, we're only here since Zym wants the trollhunter to be his dragon rider and to train him how to combat magic." white hair said.

"Um... what are you doing at my house?" I asked them as I held my wooden spoon in my hand, ready to strike them if necessary.

"You and Punzie would be great friends, squirt." The platinum blonde ruffled my brown hair to make it messy. My hair now looks like the dragon boy's hair.

"We're here to train you. I'm Hiccup. And this is Jack. Jack Frost." Wait. What? I'm lost. "I live over in Berk Manor. And you have wandered in a den where you cannot get out of." the brunnette introduced.

"Which is why Starling didn't want you to get involved. By trying to help us with the Seastone, you and your friends have put a target on your back. Starling didn't want that. But now we have to help you. To train you. Hiccup here is a Dragon Rider. And even though Azymondias isn't big enough to be ridden. He will be. I suspect sooner than you think, so he's going to train you to ride him. And I and many others are going come here to help you train against magic. Since the people who will come after you to kill you will have magic." Jack Frost told me. Now I'm really lost.

"So let's begin."

@trollhuntersfanatic

[schadenfredde]

Behold! The only picture I have ever put effort in!

It's a zine piece I worked on for the Negaduck zine organised by @cataradical. It was very fun to do! And so many talented artists and writers have participated.

The zine is still available for purchase, all proceeds go to charity! Get one in the link below!

[colleenmurphy]

“We were supposed to turn back there onto that second road, babe…”

They had been on the road for the better part of three hours now and the sheer amount of run ins with deer, turkeys and the occasional cow had peppered their adventure to the lake house left to her in her mother’s will. She had spent many a summer and just as many christmases there with her family growing up. After her father, Jim had passed they spent the better part of a year there regrouping as the family three bedroom apartment and other assets were sold.

“We’ll be fine. We’ll just double back to it. There has to be place to turn around.”

He had assured her with a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. She smiled for a moment as she fiddled with the knob to the radio of the ancient jeep she had thrown the keys to him to drive. It had also been her mother’s, she still hand’t changed out the keyring on it. It was absolutely Minnie’s  sense of self emblazoned in it.  As much as her mother adored her father ( and Colleen knew Minerva did with every beat of her heart.) she never did take his last name. Purely because with the romance novels she wrote it rolled off the tongue. Minerva Delancey. Much more interesting than Minerva Murphy, but after Jim’s passing and the move here for a while the writing turned from romance to heartbreak to crime thrillers, as if Minnie’s need or sense for romance had died with her husband.

“Really? A tiki head?”

He had said holding her keys back out to her to take and she waved him off.

“Yes, he was a gift from my Dad as a reminder of the honeymoon they would have taken.”

“Would have?”

“He was about $300 short for a honeymoon to Hawaii so they went to Niagara Falls instead. Picked this little guy up at a faux Benny Hana to commemorate it. My Dad had twin to it. It’s in my jewelry box.”

The end part of that sentence was a fib. It was secure in her pocket with a brand-new lake house key on it. Her gift to him, giving him a quiet place to take a moment for himself if he needed it. This was her favorite place on earth besides anywhere she was with him.

Glancing over she spotted him staring at her.  Laughing softly she patted his hand.

“Watch the road you goof.”

The last of her moving boxes had been shoved into what was the old study her mother used. Not much had been taken from the apartment she had formerly shared. Just the necessities along with a few boxes of warmer clothes. Helene had offered to drive up with her and spend a few days with her there to make sure she was ok but Colleen had refused. Now, walking into the place she hadn’t been in nearly a year somehow felt wrong. Like everything had been moved an inch or two to the left. There was a stack of books Cian had brought with him the autumn they had come up together and she had given him the grand tour of where she’d spent most of her growing up years.

“So…remind me how your parents met again?”

“Woodstock. Somewhere between Hendrix and Joplin they decided it was love after a three day drive in a VW microbus to actually get to the festival. They bought this place right after they were married and originally wanted to settle here. Live off the land.”

Tears had welled up in her eyes as he pulled her in for a hug. He’d known about her father’s passing when she was just 12. Very sudden and it had rocked the tiny family of three and their friends the Starlings to the core. Now she stood in the living room in front of the massive stone fireplace staring at the stack of books they had left there. Picking one up she flicked through and her eyes settled on the page. For a moment she felt like someone was squeezing her shoulder as she read.

‘Love is so short, forgetting is so long.’

Somewhere in her chest she felt something crack. It was her heart all over again. Weeping she held the book to her chest and wept body shaking sobs and the cry of a wounded animal had escaped her as she sank to her knees and curled up into a ball on the floor still wrapped in the ancient quilt her grandmother had made.

“I know what you meant now, Mama.”

Tired tear filled eyes drifted closed as she watched the fire’s flames dance.

[wordshakerofgallifrey]

really into the idea of Morgana being an actress and she and Drake knowing each other from Back In The Day™️, and they both had their breakout roles in some cheesy teen movie where Drake was basically a young Chris Evans in Not Another Teen Movie and Morgana was Rachel Leigh Cook in She’s All That but Goth and Spookier and he was like the baseball star who was dared to go out with the outcast, goth, “weird” girl, but *gasp* falls in love with her in the end??

And they bond over the fact that they can’t believe this is what people want to see, but, hey. A job’s a job and they’re starving actors so they can’t really afford to be picky. But when you’ve dreamt your whole life about being the next action star like Jim Starling (Drake), and studied extensively the works of Drakespeare (Morgana), a high school teen movie when you’re in your twenties isn’t exactly what you expected.

[drax-is-inthefandom]

My take on Ducktales!2017 Drake Mallard's past!

Practiced parkour since childhood, since fighting crime was a no-no from his parents, studying this sport in which they could supervise him was ok if he wanted to feel as DW as much as he could.

He obviously started doing parkour on places where he shouldn't lol

He did sparring with his dad and his mom took him to acting classes once he decided he wanted to be an actor. That was after the first time he got to a meet and great with Jim Starling himself.

He became a stunt man at 18, but his incomings were not secure, he needed a new source of money.

That is where SHUSH arrives. His fighting skills were good, he was the exact amount of known and unknown to pass unnoticed AND his dad was a SHUSH retiree.

Being on SHUSH is where he met Double Duck aka Donald Duck! They got to team up a few times and just like Beakley and Scrooge, kept in contact after Donald stepped away from the agency.

Drake had a good amount of money and wanted to step away so he could focus on acting, but he was a good agent, they didn't wanted to let him go.

It was a lot of work, plenty "Last suicidal mission" and even a cry of help to his dad, but he got out. And he doesn't want to go back.

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“You’re not going out in that outfit.” ( Jim @ Drake when he starts getting controlling and possessive :P )

- ✩ { @infinitexdarkwings​ } ✩

{ ☆ } ❝  What?  ❞  Drake asks, a hand hovered over the doorknob as he turns to glance over his shoulder at the older male. Brow raised and a frown quirking his beak, grasp retracts and fingers curl inward, hand raised by his chest as he turns to fully face Jim. Studying his concerned partner, brows knit and beak purses into a contemplative pout, trying to discern just how serious the other’s foul mood is. From the look in his face... it’s pretty bad.

That’s... disconcerting. And frankly, confusing.

Glancing down at his outfit, consisting of an older Darkwing Duck shirt— one that had been thought lost, but was rummaged from the back of his closet —that no longer fit quite as loosely as it used to, he supposes he can see why it might arise some concern. But definitely not enough to permit Jim’s intervening... Well, okay- it is a BIT snug, hugging his toned body in a manner that displays the work that goes into maintaining it. With sleeves torn off for comfort, rippling arms free to breathe, and a neckline that may swoop a smidge lower than his other shirts, displaying silky tufts of plumage, it is one of his more... flattering shirts.

And he’d be lying if he said that it wouldn’t entice even more looks than usual... which is saying something.

❝  I don’t see a problem with it.  ❞  Drake bluffs with a shrug, arms crossing over his chest, fabric stretching and muscles firm as he regards Jim. A stubborn set to his jaw, even if his gaze is tainted with something far less certain, snowy feathers ruffle slightly as he claims,  ❝  And even if there was something wrong with my outfit... It’s not exactly your job to mentor me on how I dress.  ❞  Normally, Drake wouldn’t dream of being so upfront with the older actor. Would have sooner believed that he’d bite off his own tongue rather than use it to talk against Jim Starling’s instructions.

But this whole interaction just rubs him the wrong way. Perhaps he’s gotten a bit bolder thanks to the frequency of their little ‘mentorship’ sessions... Or maybe it’s his pride taking the front seat, his ego refusing to let even Darkwing Duck try to stifle how he chooses to display himself. It’s always been a sore subject for the mallard. Whatever the reason, it can hardly lead to anything good. { ☆ }

[duckverse-imaginations-archived]

Random head cannons

Trying to get the ball rolling sooo I'm just gonna post random head cannons for random charaters. So my favorite dorks.

Fenton Cracksell Cabrera

• comes from a single parent home but was always content with just his mother.

•Fenton loves all things science. More of a since dork than a pop culture one.

• Fenton learned to help around the house as a kid to give his mom a hand.

• Fenton learned most his health care solutions through his moms home remedies.

Launchpad McQuack

• only went through k-12 because he didnt need college to pursue his dream of being pilot

• launchpad is unconventionally smart. He might not know technical terms but it's never really hinder him.

• Launchpads first crush was on Jim Starling as Darkwing Duck.

•writes letters to his family cause they seem speical.

Drake Mallard

• left home young and isnt incontact with his parents.

• did some performing when he was younger

• practiced his movie lines outloud and studied Jim's every move from the show for his audition

• got the role of Darkwing Duck because he was willing to do his own stunts and make the costume himself (cheap hire.)

[o-dandelion-o]

Jim Starling/Negaduck study 🦆

[masked-mallards]

Masked Mallards, The Multiverse, and Everything else

Chapter 5 Lesson in the Multiverse

Gosalyn stared at the elder clone from behind the mirror side of the one-way mirror room. He sat in a steel chair in front of a table, both bolted to the ground. The clone's ankles were shackled to the chair, his arms were wrapped tightly around his torso in a straightjacket which was hooked to the back of his seat, he wasn’t going anywhere. Launchpad and the Fearsome 4 were in the observation room with her. When she had gotten here, Launchpad had finished moving him into the interrogation room. The large duck’s face was flushed, when she had asked Bushroot what had happened, he simply said that the clone was a little too happy to see him.

Megavolt was livid as he stood watching the clone. He was so close to the duck who killed Quackerjack, he had to restrain himself not to break the truce. He has had enough of Darkwing clones. Negaduck was a horrible boss, Drake had lied to him for years, and now one has taken the life of the one he had loved most. Sparks flew from him as the glowered at the clone. He looked around the small room they were in, everyone looked like a cat ready to pounce, just daring the clone to try anything though he couldn’t see them. Their attention was caught when the door to the interrogation room slide open and closed with a click.

Darkwing laid a box on the table, then sat across from the clone. Neither spoke for a few minutes.” First, I want your name,��� Darkwing started. “I am not calling you Clone all night.” The clone smirked then snickered. “Come now, my name should be that hard to figure out, we are the same person aren’t we Drake?” the second voice said. Drake went silent for a moment then continued. “Don’t even try to pull the same tricks, unlike Negaduck, I gladly have a life outside of my nightly activities... Nice try though.” He responded. The clone scoffed. “It was worth a shot.” The clone replied. “As for our name, Clone works fine for now.” The 1st voice answered.

“Ok then, “Clone” let’s get started.” Darkwing in a slightly annoyed tone. “So, what brings you to our little corner of the multi-verse?” he asked. Clone wisecracked, still wanting to play games. “The Primeverse is where we get our breakfast, though we always have to come back, we forget the milk.” Darkwing ignored his quip. “Funny,” Darkwing retorted in a deadpan. “Your to-do list didn’t mention milk.” He reached inside the box, pulled out a thin clear envelope, and placed it in front of Clone. It was the burned note that Negaduck had found at the warehouse. Clone’s smirk disappeared.

“You moron! I told you not to make that fucking list!” Clone barked. “It’s not my fault he got it, you wanted to try and burn it, rather put it in the coat," he argued back in his 1st voice. Drake watched as Clone continues to argue with between his two personalities, to get a better idea about to proceed with them.” For the last time, we do not need a list to do our damn job, it is the same thing over and over again. Besides, it’s not like we’re going to forget 6 targets” the 2nd voice said.” Forget?!”, the 1st voice exclaimed. “You can’t even remember what universe we are in, let alone to feed Jekyll.” Clone’s expression changed to confusion. “Who?” the 1st voice asked. 2nd voice answered flustered “You wonder why I keep a list; it is to keep us organized.” Clone’s expression changed to annoyance. “No, it’s not,” the 1st voice responded. “It’s you feeding your O.C.D.” Clone’s expression shifted to anger. “It’s not O.C.D., its C.D.O!”. “Neat freak.”. “Slob”.

Clone’s body shook violently for a moment, then he fell forward and hit the table hard. “Your fault!” the voices said in unison. Darkwing wonder how long they would have continued; they fight like children on the playground. After a minute, Clone picked himself up from the table. “So, what does bring you to the Primeverse then?” Darkwing pressed. “Don’t you have this in your own world?’ Darkwing waved the burned note in front of him. Clone's eye began to dart around, looking for a way out. The stubborn old duck was determined to be uncooperative. Darkwing began to get fed up with his behavior.

“Don’t bother trying to escape,” Darkwing said firmly." We took precautions, and it's not like you jump into another warp hole." He said as he reached into the box, pulled out Clone's broken device then placed it on the table. Clone studied the pile of scrap metal. "If it is no longer functioning, how did you learn its purpose?” Clone asked out of curiosity. Darkwing answered plainly. “Megavolt figured it out, almost fixed it too, unfortunate for you though we had to destroy it again. It is beyond repair now. How did you get it anyway?” Clone frowned and avoided the question. “Pity,” the 2nd voice said in disappointment. “You should have killed him when we told you to, it will be better in the long run.”.

Darkwing put back the device and left the box open. “The both of you have a one-track mind, don’t you? Quit stalling and answer the questions I give you." He said finally tiring of Clone's games. Darkwing felt his temper begin to rise and glanced at his hand. It was wrapped in a bandage after the incident with Steelbeak, so far, the only one who knew about it was Gryzlikoff and he wanted to keep it that way. The last thing he wanted was Gosalyn and Launchpad to find out, it would mean that he would have to confront it. Also, Negaduck would enjoy the fact that he was slowly losing it, adding to his self-loathing.

Clone began to laugh uncontrollably in both voices and fell forward again still laughing. "What is so funny?" Darkwing asked. Clone picked himself up catching his breath. "It is always Déjà vu when dealing with Masked Mallards. We had a similar conversation with Jim Starling…. Oops, we meant Negaduck the night before-" The 1st voice responded still smiling. There was a crash outside the door. It swung open as Negaduck, in a rage, tried to fight off Bushroot, who was trying to hold him back. Vines constricted around the rabid ducks’ arms and torso, trying to reel him back to the entrance. “Negaduck,” Bushroot pleading. “Darkwings’ got this, let it go.” Negaduck stopped his attack, considering the plant’s plea.

Negaduck turned his back to the old mallard and began to head back through the mirror door. Clone wasn’t finished yet. “What is the matter Jim?”, the 2nd voice said, "Hate having a name like everyone else, hate the fact that it is your father’s?” That was the last straw, Negaduck drew out a switchblade he had hidden before coming here, pushed down Bushroot who tried to stop him and made a beeline for viper-tongued cloned. Darkwing intercepted the duck and disarmed him of the knife, which landed on the table and slide in front of Clone. Darkwing and Negaduck were scuffling on the ground.

Clone sat back in his chair, watching as the scene unfold with slight amusement of his handy work until the glint of Negaduck's switchblade caught his eye. Bushroot took notice Clone eyeing the knife in front of him. In the span of a few seconds Bushroot darted to swat the knife away as Clone attempted to grab it with his mouth, but he had no traction on the slick floor of the interrogation room and fell on the table pushing the knife on to the floor. Drake pulled Jim to his feet, both slightly bruised. Darkwing’s senses began to leave him as he heaved a furious Negaduck to his feet, holding him by the collar. The yellow glared at the purple, daring him to finish the job.  

A cry of pain snapped both of their attention in Clone's direction. Clone had Bushroot's neck his mouth like a steel beartrap with his fanged like teeth. If Bushroot had been made of flesh and bone instead of stem and leaf, his neck would have snapped on impact. Clone began to speak, though it was gargled at first, the message was very clear. “Release us or kill us, we do not care which.” The 1st voice snarled. “We will not be broken, and we will not stay here.” The 2nd voice continued. “Do it, or you’re going to another body on your hands.” The Liquidator rushed in, but didn’t dare test Clone’s threat.

Nobody said a word. Negaduck approached the violent captive and stood behind him. He grabbed him by the hair of his head and lifted him as far as Clone’s restrains would allow it. Clone grunted in pain but didn’t let go of Bushroot. “1st of all,” Negaduck said still in a rage.” Nobody tortures Bush-rot but me.” He let him go and picked up his blade. “2nd If you wanted to die so badly, all you had to do was ask me, I will happily fulfill the request." He handed the switchblade to Darkwing and moved back behind clone." Finally, much to my disappointment, I am under a truce that says you live. So sorry request denied." Negaduck wrapped his hands Clone's neck and began to choke him. Darkwing moved in ready to pry them apart. "Don't interfere, Drake," Negaduck snapped. "trust me.”

Darkwing didn't know why he felt compelled to listen to him, but he stood down. Clone struggled for two minutes, as his body jerked around, he still kept Bushroot in his mouth. Finally, he gagged and was forced to release Bushroot. Negaduck let go of elder. Bushroot stood on his feet with a start as Clone coughed and gasped for air. His plant-like neck looked like it met a weedwhacker, but otherwise, he was fine. "When deprived of oxygen, the body has an involuntary reflex that forces them to breathe for air after a certain amount of time." Negaduck explained. "It is a reason people drown." He turned and went back to the observation room and stopped at the entrance. "If Clone knew what say about me to make me tick, imagine what he'll say about you." He said before going in his tone was calmer. Liquidator gathered a shaken Bushroot and followed him out. The door shut with a click.

Clone continued to cough and wheeze but stopped after 4 minutes. He sat up, glowering at Darkwing. "Looks like you banking on Negaduck to kill you backfired," Darkwing said as he sat back down in the chair across from Clone. Clone growled at the sound of his defeat. Bushroot had told Darkwing about the possibility that Clone had probably been a test subject of some sort, and it might be the reason he's been incredibly hostile. (“We will not be broken, and we will not stay here.”). Clone’s words rang in Darkwing’s head. “What happened to him to make him want death over captivity?” He wondered.

“Are you ready to corporate now?” Darkwing asked though he already the answer. “Piss off!” Clone responded angrily. “We have nothing to say.” He continued stubbornly. "When will you learn that you are not getting out of this?" Darkwing said as if he were trying to make Gosalyn clean her room. The clone looked him dead in the eye and snickered. “You Masked Mallards are all the same when you think you are in control, you're not.” Clone’s 1st voice replied. "Your games are not going to work on me," Darkwing said coolly. "As much as I want to test that theory,” the 2nd voice said. “we believe a more direct approach is in order.”

Clone let out a high-pitched whistle. The opened box on the table convulsed and jolted off it. Bushroot startled by the box's involuntary movement leaned into Liquidator for protection. He immediately stood up again, somewhat embarrassed. The box fell on its side, and a possessed trench coat came out. Darkwing had already backed away from the table. The coat jerked around as something was trying to get out. A large dog appeared from thin air. It was the size of a wolf with long fur, its ears, and fur color was that of a Doberman Pinscher. Clone's stunt with Negaduck was just a warm-up.

“Jekyll assault!” Clone said in a command voice. The beast turned its attention to Darkwing, bared its teeth and lunged. Jekyll forced Darkwing the ground pinning him. Darkwing pressed against Jekyll's neck, preventing him from biting his face. Launchpad was the first one to the door and swung it open, however, Gosalyn beat him through. She launched an arrow at the dog, nearly missing its head. Jekyll had his attention on Gosalyn. He released Darkwing and went barreling toward the red-haired archer. Darkwing and Launchpad tried to stop the dog from reaching Gosalyn, but it was faster than them.

Jekyll came to a screeching halt and sat on his hindquarters. Gosalyn lower her bow and gave him a puzzled look as he wagged his tail in excitement. “Jekyll heel “. Clone commanded in his 1st. The dog happily returned to Clone’s side. “Get that brat out of here.” The 2nd voice snarled, not wanting a repeat of the last time Gosalyn interfered. Gosalyn drew her bow loaded with another arrow and waited. Clone got the point. “Jekyll withdrawal" he commanded. Jekyll looked at him in protest, but Clone reminded the dog who was boss. "HOME!” the 1st voice roared. Defeated, Jekyll's ears lower recessively and he disappeared into the coat. Launchpad stuffed the coat back into the box and slammed it shut. Gosalyn rushed over to her father to help him up.

Darkwing tried to drag Gosalyn out, but the stubborn child didn't budge. She knew deep down, that even though Clone was an unstable Darkwing copy, he still cared for his child. He had blown another chance at freedom is proof of that. “I’m not leaving until he swears, he’ll cooperate with the investigation.” She said coolly pointing at Clone. Clone and Gosalyn glowered at each other. Clone irrevocably conceded and bowed his head.” Fine,” Clone’s 2nd voice hissed. “Just leave," his 1st voice said in a less hostile tone.

Gosalyn jerked her arm free from Darkwing and went back to the observation room. The door shut behind her and Clone slumped in his chair. “Your devotion to the child is going to get us both killed one day.” The 2nd voice said aloud. “Hey,” Clone responded in his 2nd personality. “don’t act like you don’t miss her to, and you are probably right, but until then shut up!” ‘Darkwing gave Launchpad the box who took it out of interrogation. “Are you ready to comply?” Darkwing asked not fully believing Clone’s change of heart. Clone peered at his younger doppelgänger. “Yes,” he growled. “but first…” A low growl filled the room and Clone fell to the table and dropped the tough guy act. "We haven’t eaten in two days,” he said in an almost whine.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Darkwing replied in disbelief. Clone shook his head. “Could you feed Jekyll too?” he asked. Darkwing stood up. “That beast just tried to kill me!” he barked. “That is because we told him to.” Clone’s 2nd voice explained. “He’s normally a big teddy bear, when he is not listening to us.” Darkwing tapped his fingers on the table. “Look, trust goes both ways, please feed Jekyll. If you worried about controlling the dog, have Gosalyn feed him. Aside from me, he is loyal to her. In fact, the hybrid likes her better than us.” Darkwing’s fatherly instinct kicked in.” I AM NOT PUTTING MY GOSALYN IN DANGER TO FEED YOUR MUTT!” Clone looked at him with a serious expression for once. “We’re not.” He replied.

There were shouts, and scuffing behind the mirrored door and the Liquidator came through. “What, now! Drake said infuriated by the 3rd interruption. “Gosalyn grabbed the box, and ran out!” he exclaimed. “Everyone dashed after!”. Darkwing rushed out the door. ‘Don’t let Clone go anywhere!” he shouted as the door slammed behind him. The salvia hound looked at bound duck in the chair. “seriously!?” he thought.

Gosalyn had already opened the box by the time the adults reached her. She was tired of the distrust displayed tonight, and wanted to end it. If Jekyll was as loyal as clone said he was to her, then he had told the truth and the investigation could continue without there being any doubt in Clone’s testimony. “Jekyll Come” she said with the same kind of command that Clone had used. The trench coat thrusted violently out of the box, and Jekyll popped out of thin air. The dog looked growled at Darkwing and the others who posed a threat. “Jekyll Heel!” Gosalyn barked. The vicious dog relaxed and went to Gosalyn’s side. Gosalyn knew how the trench coat worked. Megavolt had told her back the house. She reached in and pulled out a turkey leg. “Sit.” She commanded. The dog obeyed and everyone relaxed, Clone had been telling the truth like he said he would.

Gosalyn tossed the leg to floor.  Jekyll didn’t go for the meat. Gosalyn stared at him puzzled. “He’s not going to eat it until you tell him to,” Negaduck spoke up, having trained dogs for years. Gosalyn saw that he was clinging to his collar close to his heart. “Did he actually worry for my safety?” she thought. No, he isn’t capable of such a thing. “Eat.” Gosalyn directed. The war dog attacked the turkey leg, eating it greedily. Darkwing looked like was about to have a heart attack, it was the second time today she could have gotten hurt. He wanted to yell at her again for testing fate when it came to Clone. However, she had proved her point that Clone would corporate, and that she wasn’t in any danger to begin with.

  Sometime later

  Darkwing waited patiently in the kitchen as the electric can opener did its job, he had laid fruit on the counter with a knife and cutting board. He had used Clone’s other request for a meal as an excuse to get some fresh air. Launchpad had followed, and everyone else went back to the observation area. Something had been bothering Launchpad since he and Bushroot examined Clone. The old doppelgänger had gravely affected everyone in the last 24 hours. Launchpad stared at Darkwing in the dark kitchen. If he was going to voice his worry. Now would be the time.

“Hey, D.W.,” he started, as he entered the kitchen. “You know it is not health to sit in a dark room.”. Darkwing spoke without looking up. “You know I thrive in the dark.”. The can opener stopped with a click. Launchpad walked up to Drake who had snatch up the can and poured it into a blender. “Drake,” he said cutting to the point. “I have a feeling that Clone is from an alternate future of another world, much like Darkwarrior in our world.”. Darkwing looked at his pilot.

Darkwarrior duck was another clone that plagued the Prime-verse, even though he is trapped in an alternate time line. He is example of the worst that Darkwing could become if he didn’t tread carefully. “What’s your point launchpad?” Darkwing asked not liking where the conversation was going. “Clone is 30 years your senior,” Launchpad explained “That puts him 5 years after Darkwarrior.” The large duck paused. “You already dodged the “Darkwarrior” bullet, what if Clone is the next one.”

Darkwing glowered, “I think you over thinking this Launchpad,” he said. “Besides, for all we know, he is not even from Primeverse.” Darkwing felt his tenor raise, at the sound of his friend putting him the same boat as Clone. “True,” Launchpad responded. “but it doesn’t mean it can’t happen in Primeverse.”. Darkwing turned his attention the fruit on the counter and chopped them up. Launchpad continued. “I am scared for you Drake,” he went quiet. “Clone is messed up, he clearly had psychiatric break down at some point, killed someone in cold blood, and he almost shot Gos, he set that beast on you, and that just what we know about. Plus, after I heard the message agent Gryzlikoff left – “

Drake flew in a rage and caught hold of the nearest thing, which happen to be launchpad. “That goddamn bear!” he shouted angrily. “I knew he was out to get me, I bet he reported me to J. Gander as well. How did he get the number to the house anyway?!” he let go of his sidekick and wandered near a window. “When I get my hand on that paper-pushing, two-faced- “. Darkwing stopped his tangent when he saw Launchpad’s startled expression, and realized he had been waving a kitchen knife around like a lunatic.

Darkwing dropped the knife to the ground and put his hands to his face. He could have hurt Launchpad, someone close him. Launchpad approached him. “Vlad called the tower,” he said. “He said something about a progress report on Darkwing duck clones. He didn’t say anything else, I only brought it up because I thought he knew about Clone.” Darkwing leaded against a wall, hung his head and felt like an idiot.” Did something happen while you were there?” His pilot asked concerned. Drake wanted to avoid answering the question, but then he remembered that Clone would done the same thing. He was determined not to go down that same path, even it meant confronting his demons. He picked up the knife, resumed his task, and told Launchpad about Steelbeak.

Launchpad quietly listened to Darkwing recount of the incident with Steelbeak. Drake had avoided S.H.U.S.H. like the plague since Duckthulhu, he must have known Steelbeak was there waiting for him. He had blamed himself for Morgana’s disappearance. Granted, Steelbeak had it coming, but he never thought Darkwing be the one to do it. Darkwing, also had always had problem accepting the existence of other dimensional Darkwings. The clones he had the most contact with, being Negaduck and Darkwarrior, haven’t been the greatest examples. On top of that, Clone shows up, and wreaks havoc in his wake. Launchpad realized he hadn’t made thing easier by suggesting that Clone was a possible future for D.W to fall into.

“I sorry for doubting you.” Launchpad said ‘I should have a little more faith in you. Besides, you have one thing that Negaduck and Clone don’t.” Darkwing dumped the fruit in the blender. “And what’s that?” Darkwing asked. Launchpad put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “The ability to admit something is wrong and Me” he replied Launchpad leaned in close in protectively. “I will always be here for you and Gosalyn, you are like family to me.” Darkwing looked at friend, he knew that Launchpad cared for him, but not this much. Maybe he did, but was too devastated by Morgana to notice.

Launchpad had always been there for him. Drake grabbed the hand on his shoulder, accepting its comfort, and love. Maybe it was time to move on, just maybe. Darkwing tugged Launchpad’s arm, pulling the giant closer. Launchpad wrapped his arms around him in return. The comfort of the pilot was just Darkwing needed. He released his hold on Launchpad, blended the concoction of fruit and what appeared to be spinach, or at least what Darkwing thought was spinach. The Hero and his pilot made their way back the interrogation room.

 Meanwhile…

 “All it took was Gosalyn.” Megavolt said aloud. “It took 5 chapters to finally be able to learn anything from that stubborn old duck. If we had known that Clone, like Darkwing, would be putty in her hands. We would have had her ask the questions.” Megavolt had been ranting since Darkwing went to fetch Clone something to eat. “Sparky,” Negaduck said, speaking for everyone at this point. “Stop addressing the ghosts”. Negaduck glowered at Clone. If it were up to him, he would have let Clone starve for all he cared.

“Survey says, he must have a Gosalyn and Launchpad from his home dimension.” The Liquidator said, trying to change the subject before Megavolt could start ranting again. “Maybe,” Bushroot said. “He did recognize the both of them. Hey Negaduck, what about you? Is there a Gosalyn and Launchpad in the Negaverse?” Negaduck glared at the plant and the room went silent.” Yes”, Negaduck responded. “Nega-Launchpad is my right-hand duck; I leave him charge of St. Canard in the Negaverse when I’m gone.” He went silent. “What about a Nega-Gosalyn?” Liquidator blurted. Negaduck turned his gaze to Gosalyn who looked at him inquisitively. Megavolt smacked the hound aside the for asking such a question in front of her. “She’s there to.” Negaduck replied, and said nothing more on the matter. The Negaverse was 4 years behind Primeverse, but was more advanced in technology. He tugged at his collar again. Nega-Gosalyn would be 10 this year. It had been 5 years since Darkwing pulled the universal plug and had cut him off from the Negaverse….

  /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

5 years ago

Negaverse: St. Canard

  The streets of St. Canard were filled with unkept roads, neglected building, and its people running free and under little to no regulation. The only law was his law, it was Negaduck's haven. As he walked down the street, the St. Canardians would either run or bowed, he didn’t care for which and mostly ignored them. It was their way of showing respect to their lord. To some he was one of the few that Nega- Scrooge never challenged out right, or because of the freedom he gave them to do as they please. For other it was either the independent country of St. Canard, or under Nega- Scrooge McDuck’s iron curtain of New Duckburg. None could make the journey to the Cape Suzette Stronghold, the last safe place in a world gone mad.

He made his way home on foot. Since Negaduck had cut off St. Canard from the rest of the world, transportation was hard to come by. The only way to travel was by boat or plane, there hadn’t been any cars around in working condition since Negaduck cut ties with Duckburg. Transportation was one of the few things he did regulate. Negaduck had made it clear, that you can live here, but no one can leave. Nobody crossed the border without him knowing about it. This is how they came across Nega-Gosalyn, and a way to keep Nega- Scrooge at bay.

Nega-Waddlemeyer once developed weapons of mass destruction for Nega –Mcduck, his employer. Most of his weapons required a code to operate. When he inherited Nega- Gosalyn from his dead son, he taught her the codes, indirectly in way she could not understand, as a failsafe if anything were to happen and to him.  Unfortunately, for him Nega- Taura Bulba, under the order of Nega-F.O.W.L, killed Waddlemeyer and abducted Gosalyn. Unable to reach F.O.W.L headquarters, Bulba sought to transfer Nega-Gosalyn to the Primeverse, a place Nega-Mcduck could never reach. He and his team crossed the border St. Canard illegally, with Gosalyn in tow.

Negaduck had caught wind of the trespassers. Once he heard that they were F.O.W.L agents, he went after them personally, he didn’t want the international organization in his country. After dispatching of Bulba and his men, he met Gosalyn and learned about the Waddlemeyer codes. From that point on Negaduck was Gosalyn’s “guardian” and he made it abundantly clear to Nega-Scrooge, that if he set foot in St. Canard, he’d kill the girl. Negaduck, with exception of Nega-Launchpad, had no love for the child. Or so he thought.

The yellow clad dictator turned down his street and saw three children on his front lawn. One of them was Nega- Gosalyn, the other two were the Muddlefoot children. The children of St. Canard ran wild, the schools had either been closed or burned down, the only time they listen to their parents, was when they threaten to kill them, which some did. Nega- Launchpad however, home schooled Gosalyn, and he always babied her, though Negaduck never understood why his lover and right hand didn’t let Gosalyn toughen up. He didn’t care what the pilot did on his own time.

“Hand it over” Honker demanded, reaching in Gosalyn’s direction. “She earned that fair and square, leave her alone.” Tank asked politely. “I don’t care if she stole like a good little girl, I want it, don’t make me ask again.” Honker growled. Tank pushed Gosalyn behind him defensively. He normally wouldn’t fight, but he will to protect Gosalyn. Honker pulled out a long iron chain. “Now, for the last time-“ Honker stopped and grew quiet as soon as his brother turn pale as a sheet, and he saw Negaduck's silhouette.

“Muddlefoot,” Negaduck said in a calmly, though he was far from it. “You should know better than to ask once for something you want, let alone twice. I thought your father raised you better than that.” He had placed himself between Honker and the other two. “So disappointing, oh well.” Negaduck said, his voice growing more aggressive. Negaduck kicked the delinquent hard and he fell to the ground. Honker curled in a little ball bracing for what was coming. Negaduck continued to beat the boy while he was on the ground, ignoring pleas made by Gosalyn and Tank to have mercy. Honker eventually stopped moving, Negaduck didn’t kill him, he wanted the Honker Muddlefoot to remember this.

The child beating duck turned his attention to Tank, who stood between him and Gosalyn. It was known that the eldest child of Herbert Muddlefoot had a crush on Gosalyn and wanted to protect her on the streets of St. Canard. Negaduck always hated him for that, though he didn’t understand why, or at least he denied it. “Boy, Gosalyn needs to learn to fight her own battles and grow a backbone” Negaduck said no longer hiding his malice. He lifted Tank of the ground by his wrist. Tank squirmed to get away, and Gosalyn was crying, she knew what her father planned to do.

Negaduck used his free hand and slowly snapped Tank’s fingers. Tank screams drowned out Gosalyn begging for Negaduck to stop. Before he released Tank, Negaduck broke his wrist with a twist of his hand. He had left the boy, with a swollen broken hand. “Gather your brother, and get off my property.” Negaduck said without a hint of remorse. Tank did as he was told, and heaved Honker over his shoulder. They disappeared down the street.

Negaduck dragged a sobbing Gosalyn in to the house and sat her at the table in the kitchen. He waited for her to pull herself together, this wasn’t first time he had attacked her friends and it wouldn’t be the last. Gosalyn finally, stopped crying and dried her eyes. Unknown to the both of them, Nega-Launchpad had crept around the corner and was watching them. He had saw the commotion outside and had grabbed a rocket launcher. He was good to blast Honker to kingdom come, until Negaduck came along and did away with him.

The foul duck glowered at his daughter, she had pleaded for him to show mercy to Honker, even when he was trying mug her. Her kindness and sweet disposition, was rare in Nega- St. Canard. It often made her a target for thieves and local gangs. If Launchpad didn’t rain fire upon them, Negaduck would surely break bones, and/or kill those stupid enough to try. He didn’t want harm to come to his hostage. It wasn’t because of his parental instinct to protect Gosalyn. He had no love for her. She was just there.

“So, what did you steal that Muddlefoot wanted so badly?” Negaduck asked. He knew she wouldn’t lie to him, Hell anytime she broke a plate, she’d rat herself out. Gosalyn looked to him, her eyes were still red. “I never stole anything,” she croaked, her voice still horse. “Dad said you were coming home from Primeverse and I wanted to get you a welcome home present.” She reached in to the bag she had been caring prior to the attack. “You were gone for such a long time, I missed you, so I went to the market and spent my savings.” She continued. She rummaged through the bag, and produced an apple and a pin shaped like a rabbit with a frown on his face.

Gosalyn gave the items to Negaduck. Fruit such as apples, were considered a treat in St. Canard, the only way to get them was through Cape Suzette. Cape Suzette was ruled by Sheer Khan, and was the fickle ally of St. Canard. Negaduck and Khan had a simple agreement, they would come to the aid of if the other was attack by New Duckburg, and Cape Suzette would been the only trade partner of St. Canard. This often led to pricey tariffs that St. Canard had to pay, usually by fishing and cheap labor for Khan Industries, who had set up there.

The flip side of the one-sided trade arrangement, was Khan Industries had to deal with lawless that was Nega-St. Canard, there was no one there to protect them from its inhabitance. However, since most St. Canardians chose to fend for themselves, trade with Cape Suzette was seldom. Only one boat came in every 3 months. Because of this, produce like this cost an arm and leg, sometimes even a kidney. Gosalyn had paid for it in cash.

The second item was a pin of a white rabbit with it ears drooped and had a sour expression on his face. Negaduck examined the piece of plastic, it was a relic of a time before New Duckburg and before he took over St. Canard. He hated to small fuzzy creatures; they did taste good though. “I know you don’t like rabbits, because they don’t have a mean bone a mean bone in their body” Nega-Gosalyn explained. “So, when I saw an angry one amongst the rubble of an old abandoned Duckburgian cargo hold at the docks, I thought you might like it.” She grew silent. “Do you like it?” she asked sweetly. “No,” Negaduck said, though he shoved both items into his coat pocket, rather throw them out like he did with most things she had brought him in the past.

He looked around the suburban home. It was spotless. Gosalyn must have cleaned it for his arrival. Negaduck grabbed a nearby newspaper and pretended to read it. “Gos,’ he said with his head hidden behind the paper. “Do me a favor and dirty up the house, its nauseating.”. The duckling hopped to her feet with a smile on her face, and went upon her task. After everything she still wanted to please the horrid father. After she had left, Negaduck took out the rabbit pin and pinned to the inside of his coat. He went to over to a nearby wall mirror to adjust it.

After that he leaned against the wall and continued to read the newspaper, thinking he was alone. However, the fist whirling past his head and smashing the glass mirror proved him wrong. Negaduck look from the paper, knowing full well it was the only one bold enough to attack him in his own home. Nega-Launchpad glowered at Negaduck, who simply stared back. They had a staring contest for about a minute before Negaduck cracked a smirk and Launchpad leaned his massive head against the wall. “Hey Babe,” Negaduck said in a cocky tone. “You miss me?”

Nega-Mcquack growled, trying not to sound happy to see him. “You know I fucking hate being in charge.” he replied. “Every time you leave to Primeverse, you stay longer and longer. This put St. Canard at risk, what if Mcduck takes notices of your absent and attacks? Megavolt and his “friendly” 4 certainly do. They tried twice to take over. I might be your General, but I am no Goddamn leader.” Launchpad stopped his tangent for a moment.

Nega-Megavolt had always been a torn in the side of St. Canard. He had assembled a group of likeminded individuals, who wanted to take back St. Canard, and return it to its former glory. The organization was known as the Friendly 4, and its leaders Nega- Megavolt, Liquidator, Bushroot, and Quackerjack. To Nega- Launchpad, the liberators were nothing more than terrorist. According to Negaduck, Nega-Megavolt used to be his friend prior to his violent takeover of St. Canard, but they had a falling out.

“Plus” Launchpad continued “Half the time you do comeback, you look like Darkwing ate you then shit you out, and who has to put your dumbass back together? Me, that’s fucking who” He paused. “So yes, I am happy fucking happy you’re back you asshole!” Launchpad had always had a mouth, and was the only one that got to talk that way to Negaduck and live. It was part of his charm.

“You don’t think dad is a really an asshole, do you?” a worried Gosalyn asked from the stairs. She had finished destroyed her room when she the commotion downstairs. Launchpad directed his attention to Gosalyn and turned slightly green and red. He made it a point to not to curse in front of her, it was one of his little ways of protecting her. “Yes, he is,” he responded as he left Negaduck and made his way to the bottom of the stairwell. I know it, you know it, everyone in the fu-… err world knows it!” Negaduck tried to suppress a snicker, he agreed. Launchpad ignored him. “And don’t say that word again” he continued in a disciplinary tonality. “it is only for dads and other assholes to use.” Gosalyn answered back innocently. “But would that kind of logic make you both as- that word?”

Negaduck could help it anymore and almost kneeled over laughing at his pilot, there were times Gosalyn’s innocence was too much. He pulled himself together and smiled at the girl, something he rarely did. “Go finish your chores brat, and makes to break something expensive” He ordered reminding himself that he didn’t like her. “The adults need to talk.”. Nega- Gosalyn saluted her father and hurried off. He turned to face launchpad, who had was smirking with his arms crossed. “What?” Negaduck asked his smile disappearing. “Still going to deny it after today?” Nega-Launchpad snickered. “Ready to admit that you care for Gosalyn?”. Negaduck glowered at his pilot. “I don’t,” he replied. “She just lives here.”. The larger duck continued. “Oh really?” he said sarcastically. “What happen to “She is just a hostage”? Don’t think I didn’t see that little exchange between the two of you in the kitchen.”

Negaduck glared at eavesdropping aviator, “That meant nothing, don’t read too much into it” he growled. Launchpad leaned in close to his commander and placed on hand on the wall so Negaduck couldn’t get away easily. “Prove it then,” Launchpad challenged. “Give me the little trinket she gave you, since you are going to trash anyway.” Negaduck suddenly changed his tune. “I haven’t the slightest idea of what you're talking about.” The yellow clad mallard responded. “You can’t lie your way out of this one Negs.” Launchpad said as he closed in on Negaduck.

“What did she give you anyway?” Launchpad asked. Negaduck slide from against the wall and tried to flee to the living room, Launchpad followed. “I serious, don’t know what you’re talking about” Negaduck said. However, it was a fruitless effort, he never could fool his companion. Launchpad lunged at Negaduck in an attempt to grab his coat. Unfortunately for him, what the small duck lacked in size, he made up for in speed. *“Anas, Anas!” Negaduck said as if he were a bull fighter, then he expertly evaded his opponent and tripped him so he’d fall on the couch on his stomach.

Nega-Launchpad forgot all about Negaduck’s pin, rolled over and tried to get up. Negaduck didn’t give him the opportunity. He jumped on top of his pilot, subduing him. Launchpad struggled for a moment then stopped. Negaduck used his free hand to pull up his head tugging on his shirt, and looked at him wantonly. Launchpad didn’t protest, it had been awhile since he and Negaduck preformed any of the “love” in lovers. Frankly, even though he was still mad at him for leaving, he missed it and him.

Negaduck released him, and got off the couch. It was nothing more than a tease. “As much as I want to, I am only here for a supply.” Negaduck said. “I am heading out again, have to maintain the warp hole on the Prime-verse side of things”. Launchpad sat up. “You just got back!” he barked angry. “Look babe,” Negaduck said. Nega-Launchpad was one of the few people he didn’t want to disappoint, not on purpose anyway. “Once this job is done, I’ll have some down time until the portal reopens again.” Negaduck retrieved a duffel bag and started to fill it. “I’ll stay home during that time and do whatever you want do.”. Negaduck heaved the bag over his shoulder. “Promise?” Launchpad inquired, not fully believing him. Negaduck turned to his general. “You know I don’t make promises.” He answered.

He left the house for the last time that day. One that unfornate day, Darkwing discover his warp hole, and enter the Negaverse. He trained the Friendly 4 to be more affective in their goal to liberate St. Canard from Negaduck. As a result, they took Gosalyn away, but they didn’t dare take her out of Nega-St. Canard. They hated Negaduck, but the last thing they want is for Nega- Scrooge to invade. Negaduck tried to trap Darkwing in the Negaverse, via destroying the warp hole on the other side. However, Darkwing followed him in pursuit. The purple clad mallard pulled the universal plug, sending them both to Primeverse, and making it almost impossible for Negaduck to go back to his home world.

  Two days later….

Abandon candy factory

Primeverse: St. Canard.

 Negaduck had been growing more hostile as of late. Quackerjack watched as Bushroot comforted Spike, as he tinkered with his ‘toys”. Apparently, Negaduck tried to set the carnivorous plant on fire again. After Negaduck got cut off from the Negaverse, he had been taking a more active role as their leader and started to live with them. The clown, unlike the others, didn’t mind. Negaduck was an unstable madman like himself, and always found the duck’s mischief entertaining. Negaduck appeared from the main office, he was eating an apple, and sat at the table at the other end of the room. He ignored Spike who hissed at him. Quackerjack took note that Negaduck had developed a nervous tick, he would touch the inside his yellow coat, as if he was checking for something.

Negaduck's heart skipped a beat. “It’s gone, where is it?” he thought to himself. He began to feel himself panic, but didn’t show it. It was all he had left, and it was missing. Megavolt enter the common area with a load of laundry from the laundry mat. Since Megavolt looked the most normal out of the Fearsome 5, and could go out and about as Elmo Sputterspark, he was the designate errand rat. He dropped the basket on to the floor, a shiny piece of plastic bounced out. Megavolt picked it up and examined it. It was a pin of a white rabbit with a frown on his face.

Negaduck bolted over to Megavolt and jabbed him the gut, knock the wind out of him. Megavolt dropped the pin, which Negaduck caught midair, and crammed it into his pocket. It all happened so fast nobody registered what had occurred until Negaduck had disappeared down the hallway. When he was sure he was alone, the took out the rabbit shaped button and placed it back in the inside of his coat. “No,” he said to himself. “I do not care for the brat.” Though he wasn’t quite sure that anymore.

  /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

  The sound of a door opening, snapped Negaduck out his reminisce, and back to the present. Darkwing and Launchpad had come back. Drake entered the interrogation room and placed a sealed cup of green mush in front of Clone. Clone wasn’t chained to the chair anymore, but he was still wrapped tightly in a straightjacket. He sat there and stared at the cup. “How are we supposed to eat this, what is it anyway?” Clone asked, trying to find a reason to get out of the jacket. “Looks like something Launchpad made.”  Clone’s other personality answered. A mildly amused Darkwing put one of Gosalyn’s silly straws in to the cup. Clone shrugged and gulped it down in one sitting. He gagged. “It definitely tastes like his cooking!” both personalities said turning as green as the concoction Clone had consumed.

“Take it that, there is a Launchpad from your universe to?” Darkwing asked. Though it was a rhetorical question, Clone didn’t treat it as such.” There is not “a” Launchpad in a single universe,” Clone corrected him. “There are two, like every living thing in the Multiverse.” Darkwing gave him a puzzled look. “No,” he said confused. “There is only one Launchpad in the Primeverse, the only time I met another one is was when in the Negaverse.” Clone rolled his eyes. “The Negaverse is part of Primeverse, in fact they are the same universe.” His second personality answered. Darkwing stared at the older clone. “What are you talking about?” he quizzed. Darkwing still had his prior obligation, to investigate the Darkwing clones for S.H.U.S.H. If Clone had insight on the subject, he be a fool not take advantage of it.

“We keep forgetting that, most of the Multiverse is insolated, with the except of a few, no one in the multiverse is aware that they are mirrors.” Clone said bluntly. Darkwing listened carefully. “A single universe, acts like a magnetic field,” Clone’s second personality explained. “They have a positive poll called the Posiverse, which is you, and Negative poll, which is the Negaverse. The Posiverse and the Negaverse make up Primeverse, and balance each other, if one goes the other will fail. This true for all dimensions in the Multiverse.”

Darkwing gave Clone a perplexed stare.” I thought you say cooperate,” He said in an annoyed tone. “Whether you chose to believe us or not doesn’t change to the facts.” Clone answered in his 1st voice. “We intend to honor our agreement and answer your questions.’ Drake rubbed his eyes, and got right down to business. “Let’s start where we left off” he stated. “Why are you here? Why does Primeverse Megavolt need to die? Don’t you have your own Megavolt…. Sorry Megavolts, in your universe?” Darkwing paused. “Prove to me, that I should trust you Clone, what is your real name. You know mine.”

Clone was silent. Darkwing saw him twitch and knew that the personalities were arguing again internally. Clone spoke. “We no longer have a “real” name.” he replied with personalities in union. “If you must know it is Negawing Duck.” Darkwing jotted down the name in his notes. Negawing, continued. “As for the other questions, let me tell you a fact, and the tale of how We became how we came to be.” Darkwing gave him his undivided attention. “As a clone of Darkwing Duck,” Negawing started. “It is our primary job to protect the city, or in some cases country, of St. Canard. However, we have another job as its guardian.” He paused. “There are many different universes out there, but they all have a shared trait. The vail between the Posiverse and Negaverse is thin enough for people to cross over into them easily. 3 guesses as to where.” After the Darkwing Crisis, Drake had pretty good idea.” St. Canard.” He replied.

“Correct.” Negawing said. “Warp holes appear all over the city, most of them are small and unnoticeable, others are large enough for someone to cross through. Some lead to the Void, a network that connects the Multiverse. After the Darkwing Crises, some of the Darkwing clones began to monitor warp holes or outright destroy them” Darkwing listen quietly, his curiosity peaked. “Every Masked Mallard in existence, to some extent is a Quadworth, a person with the ability sense the warp holes. The level of this ability varies from those who can find warp holes and/ or maintain them, to those who can create them, we can only maintain them, find them. The power to perform all three is rare, yet one of the few able to do it is in your observation room.” Negawing went quiet and looked toward the mirrored wall. He knew Negaduck was in there.

Darkwing scoffed. He hated magic and didn’t want to believe that he was some sort of warp hole homing device. “That’s impossible” he retorted. “I am no wizard or a quadworth.” The older duck raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so?” Negawing’s second personality answered. “Do think it is a coincidence, that magical incidents happen to you, your connection to the summoning of Duckthulhu, or the fact of all the brainwashable people in the Multiverse, Magica De Spell chose Darkwings?” Drake didn’t know what was harder to believe. The fact he was a quadworth, or Negawing knew about Duckthulhu. Then again Negawing was older that he was and had probably lived through it.

“Anyway,” Negawing continued, “We do not expect you to believe us, take it as it is” Negawing said as if he were talking to a stubborn child. “Now that you know how the Multiverse works and your role in it, let us tell you a tale of the Duck Knights who fail in their duty, and lost everything.” His voiced turned somber. “This is not an origin story is it?” Darkwing said in an irritated tone. Negawing answered just as annoyed. “Unfortunately, yes, yes, it is! Hopefully, you and Negaduck can learn from this cautionary tale.” Darkwing and the peanut gallery in the observation room gave a collectively groaned. They had asked for answers, now they were going get it and then some.

Chapter 6

https://masked-mallards.tumblr.com/post/190716333084/masked-mallards-the-multiverse-and-everything

Chapter 4

https://masked-mallards.tumblr.com/post/612626971235631104/masked-mallards-the-multiverse-and-everything

Chapter1

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

[msephy]

Upbringing chap 8/?

And here is chapter 8 :)

There should be 13 or 14 chapters in total.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

Cross-posted to AO3

Earth 53 - Jason Todd

Speeding through Gotham alongside Bruce was all kinds of wrong. First of all because if felt right. Of course. Damnit, and damn him, and damn the original him, and… Fuck.

Now wasn’t the time to think about how fucked up Jason’s life was. Now was the time to find a lost Robin. Or Damian. Or whatever name he used.

“Nothing on the North side, either,” Dick (Robin) (this was going to be confusing) said in his ear.

He’d received his own earpiece right after jumping into his gear, Dick slipping it to him as he accompanied them to the Batmobile, explaining he’d use the cameras to help them out.

His gear had been washed. Not the armor, but the clothes. Nobody had touched the weapons. His guns were still there.

This whole thing was confusing.

“Thank you, Robin,” Bruce answered, his voice tight, without even slowing down. Of course he wouldn’t.

“What his codename?” Jason asked, mostly to distract himself from the worry churning at his belly. Probably for nothing, too. Damian was though, his own remarks notwithstanding.

“Who? Robin?”

“Obviously not, I heard that one. I meant the kid. Younger kid. Whatever.”

“Ah. Shadow.”

“Of fucking course,” Jason grumbled. “At least it’s not a bird.”

“I tried to make him chose Crow, but it’s already taken,” Dick babbled in his ear, his good humor hiding badly is own worry. “Or Blackbird. Or Nightbird.” Jason snorted. “Or Starling. He threw a fit at that one. Or…”

The enumeration stopped abruptly. Jason and Bruce froze in a same movement. “Robin?” Bruce called, ordered. Jason felt his spine straightened.

“Not Damian,” Dick said. “I mean Shadow. But I spotted something.”

“Elaborate.”

“Please,” Jason mocked. Bruce glared at him.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Dick was saying. “But I think it was Talia.”

Jason swore. Then swore again when he saw Bruce relax. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s bad news.”

“She wouldn’t hurt Shadow,” Bruce said with the assurance of the unaware.

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’ll obey Ra’s, whatever the cost.” Jason argued. Then he frowned. “What she can do is find a loophole and make sure things go the way she wants them to anyway. She’ll obey the letter of his words, not the meaning.”

“You think she showed herself on purpose.”

“I think that no camera would have caught her if she hadn’t meant it to.”

“But what could Ra’s possibly want from Damian?” Bruce exclaimed. He’d never sounded so much younger than his counterpart.

Jason shrugged. “The same he’s wanted from the start. I mean. Why else would he have allowed Talia to keep him? If he didn’t order her to have him to start with.”

Bruce winced visibly despite the cowl. Looked like it was a sore point.

“Anyway, we’d better find out if Ra’s is around before he possesses Damian or something.”

“Ra’s wouldn’t hurt Shadow,” Bruce said pointedly.

Jason stared. But he seemed to mean it. “Are you a moron?” Jason asked, unbelieving. “Ra’s is a criminal. Him not behaving as destructively as the Joker doesn’t give him a pass. You of all people should know that!”

And Jason couldn’t believe he was the one who had to say it. God knew how often he’d secretly hoped Bruce would give him a pass. But no, no, that was reserved for beautiful, dangerous women.

Jason inspired, trying to calm down. “Besides,” he managed. “I wasn’t pulling that out of my ass, that’s what Ra’s actually tried to pull off, in our world. I don’t have the details, only as much as Drake told me.”

“More birds?” Dick whispered, Jason assumed, in his ear only, because Bruce didn’t snap back at him. It really wasn’t a good time. Yet the joke loosened something inside Jason; something bad, that had been growing since the morning and which retreated suddenly in the depths of his feelings.

Jason relaxed. Bruce, on the other hand, was so wired you could have broken stone on him.

“Where did you see her?” he finally asked Dick.

“The Bowery, next to the flower shop.”

Bruce fired his line and Jason followed. It was too early for the Demon Head to want Damian’s body. No?

Please let it be too early.

###

Earth 1 – Jason Wayne

Jason got out of the shower feeling invigorated. They hadn’t made a full patrol, just half, allegedly to discharge Bruce a bit. The only thing Jason didn’t know was if Dick had taken the patrol as excuse to observe him, or if he’d observed him as excuse to actually discharge Bruce a bit.

Either way, they’d had fun without tiring themselves so much.

Jason sat down at the computer and started updating the files, checking on the latest updates from GCPD and some information sent by Oracle.

“Who is this Oracle? They’re amazing,” Jason said absentmindedly when he heard Dick get out of his own shower.

“Bruce allows you to use the batcomputer? I wouldn’t have expected him to.”

“I didn’t really give him the choice. Checking what I do will take him less time than doing it himself. I log all the details, to make sure of it.”

Dick snorted, sitting on the table. Jason raised his eyebrows. Dick made a face. “You’re not Alfred.”

“He’s old and cleaning after you boys all the time.”

“I’m not getting anything dirty! Also, you are barely older than me.”

“Still older.”

“Jackass.”

“Love you too.” Jason blinked. “I mean,” he laughed. “We barely know each other. But clearly, we both have siblings.”

“Clearly,” Dick echoed. Then he sighed.

“He’ll be back,” Jason assured him. “I don’t intend to stay here and I’m pretty sure your Bruce wouldn’t leave one of his sons in another world, even the prodigal one.”

“How is your world? Is he going to be alright?”

Jason shrugged. “It’s pretty much similar to this one. Very nice way to guilt me into giving you intel, by the way.” Dick grinned. Jason smiled. “In any case,” he continued. “I think my Gotham is a bit better off than yours, but there are still dangerous people out there. Bruce – my brother I mean – won’t let your Jason get hurt, though.”

Dick darkened. It looked like his Bruce had let his Jason get hurt. It happened, in this kind of life. Jason would rather not know the details.

“So, Oracle?” Jason asked to distract him. “Who are they?”

“Oh.” Dick blinked. “It’s Barbara. She doesn’t help, in your world?”

“In my world, she’s busy studying law and determined to become a cop. Can’t say that Jim is delighted, but I think he’s secretly proud.”

“A cop? Babs?” Dick seemed to think about it, then shrugged. “I guess I always thought she had too much of a tendency to find trouble to follow that path.”

“Oh, she still does. She kicked Luthor in the balls once.”

“And she survived?” Dick marveled.

Jason grinned dreamily at the memory. “She was pretending to be drunk at the time. He had to let it slide.”

“Oh god, I wished I’d been there.”

“It was very satisfying,” Jason confirmed, smiling broadly. “Especially since, you know, we had an informal meeting right after. I plucked some of Lex’s feathers. He was very offended. And had a hard time sitting.”

“You do business with Luthor?”

Jason shrugged. “We’re mainly competitors but his R&D department does have some significant advancements that we can’t ignore. Mostly it’s not with LexCorp directly but one of his subsidiaries. He does own a lot of them. Isn’t it the same here?”

“I guess so. Clark is the one who handles him, mostly.”

“But in regard to WayneEnt?”

“You’ll have to ask Tim,” Dick shrugged. “He’s the brain of the operation. I merely show up on galas or support one specific project from time to time but handling the day to day of a business that huge? That’s not for me.”

“No, I guess it’s not,” Jason said, thinking about how the younger Dick from his world struggled to even learn to sit down for classes for more than an hour.

“You’re thinking of who to throw to the wolves in your own world?” Nightwing laughed.

“I doubt it will be you. Damian, maybe, if he settles when growing up.”

“Is Bruce the one with all the kids?”

“I didn’t think accepting Talia’s offer would be a good idea,” Jason smiled, before realizing it was a mistake. Nightwing’s head titled slightly. Ah, well. It didn’t really matter, if someone from another world knew about his bitterness.

“She seduced you both?”

“We seduced her back. We went to train to the League together, Bruce and I, or rather,” Jason laughed, “I refused to let Bruce leave by himself. To be honest, I loved it.”

“And Talia, too.”

“It doesn’t matter much. She wasn’t going to leave her life for either of us, and neither would we. It was a moot point.”

“Mhm. Sounds like I’m not the only one who should take more care of myself.”

Jason sighed. “I guess you aren’t.”

[themurphyzone]

Rosieverse: Alistair Boorswan

1. The Boorswan family is in show business. His father is Arnold Boorswan, a director of buddy cop movies. His mother is Audrey Boorswan, an actress who looks young enough to pass for a teenager in teen films. His older sister is Angelina Boorswan, who’s studying film at St. Canard University. They’re a happy family. 

2. Alistair’s nickname is Al, and he’s Rosie’s age. 

3. Al’s always had the British accent. Normally it’s mild, but he can it lay on thick if he’s irritated. 

4. Audrey knits scarves for her Al, and he loves wearing them even in the summer. 

5. Al prefers sitting in the back of the classroom, where he can write poetry in peace. He loves making dark and gritty poems about tragedy and angst. 

6. He’s slow to warm up to new people because he used to be bullied over the scarves his mother knit for him, so it took two months for him to properly consider Rosie a friend. 

7. Rosie and Al met in the 6th grade. Rosie had never been to a proper school before (she was tutored privately until the studio closed down). They bonded in a theater program their school had. 

8. Whenever there’s a middle/high school play, Al’s parents will record it and post it to their online blog. 

9. One time Al noticed that Rosie looked sad when she saw the Friendly Four in the audience next to an empty seat. When he asks why, Rosie admits that Jim rarely shows up to her plays. Al disliked Jim ever since. 

10. Al had to go over to Rosie’s house to work on a project together. That’s when he learned that Jim played Darkwing Duck and that he’s related to Basil Starling,(OC belongs to @cannedtins). Al grew up with horror stories about how Basil treated his actors. 

11. Al disliked how Jim ignored Rosie when she tried to ask him if he needed anything. 

12. Rosie’s always welcome in the Boorswan household, and Al’s always welcome in the Friendly Four household. 

13. Al studied filmmaking in St. Canard University like his sister, then traveled the world to see how foreign studios made their movies. He kept in contact with Rosie the entire time. 

14. Al loves psychological thrillers and is always hunting for symbolism he can use in a movie. Rosie doesn’t understand half of the symbolism in his work, but she always compliments him for making the movie. 

15. Al is inspired to do a Darkwing Duck movie when Rosie and the Friendly Four invite him for dinner. Michael offhandedly mentions that several of Starling’s traits seemed more fitting for a villain than hero, and the inspiration struck him. He makes a contract with McDuck Studios and begins the auditions for the Darkwing Duck movie. He purposely doesn’t contact Jim. 

[7r0773r]

The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson

I was leaving the South To fling myself into the unknown. . . . I was taking a part of the South  To transplant in alien soil, To see if it could grow differently, If it could drink of new and cool rains, Bend in strange winds, Respond to the warmth of other suns And, perhaps, to bloom.                            —RICHARD WRIGHT

***

Across the South, someone was hanged or burned alive every four days from 1889 to 1929, according to the 1933 book The Tragedy of Lynching, for such alleged crimes as “stealing hogs, horse-stealing, poisoning mules, jumping labor contract, suspected of killing cattle, boastful remarks” or “trying to act like a white person.” Sixty-six were killed after being accused of “insult to a white person.” One was killed for stealing seventy-five cents. (p.39)

***

Throughout the South, the conventional rules of the road did not apply when a colored motorist was behind the wheel. If he reached an intersection first, he had to let the white motorist go ahead of him. He could not pass a white motorist on the road no matter how slowly the white motorist was going and had to take extreme caution to avoid an accident because he would likely be blamed no matter who was at fault. In everyday interactions, a black person could not contradict a white person or speak unless spoken to first. A black person could not be the first to offer to shake a white person’s hand. A handshake could occur only if a white person so gestured, leaving many people having never shaken hands with a person of the other race. The consequences for the slightest misstep were swift and brutal. Two whites beat a black tenant farmer in Louise, Mississippi, in 1948, wrote the historian James C. Cobb, because the man “asked for a receipt after paying his water bill.”

It was against the law for a colored person and a white person to play checkers together in Birmingham. White and colored gamblers had to place their bets at separate windows and sit in separate aisles at racetracks in Arkansas. At saloons in Atlanta, the bars were segregated; Whites drank on stools at one end of the bar and blacks on stools at the other end, until the city outlawed even that, resulting in white-only and colored-only saloons. There were white parking spaces and colored parking spaces in the town square in Calhoun City, Mississippi. In one North Carolina courthouse, there was a white Bible and a black Bible to swear to tell the truth on. (pp. 44-45)

***

[In 1861] Florida heartily joined a new country whose cornerstone, according to the Confederacy’s vice president, Alexander Hamilton Stephens, was “the great truth that the negro is not equal to the white man; that slavery—subordination to the superior race—is his natural and normal condition.” This new government, Stephens declared, “is the first, in the history of the world, based upon this great physical, philosophical, and moral truth.” (pp. 58-59)

***

But the masses did not pour out of the South until they had something to go to. They got their chance when the North began courting them, hard and in secret, in the face of southern hostility, during the labor crisis of World War I. Word had spread like wildfire that the North was finally “opening up.” (p. 161)

***

When the people kept leaving, the South resorted to coercion and interception worthy of the Soviet Union, which was forming at the same time across the Atlantic. Those trying to leave were  rendered fugitives by definition and could not be certain they would be able to make it out. In Brookhaven, Mississippi, authorities stopped a train with fifty colored migrants on it and sidetracked it for three days. In Albany, Georgia, the police tore up the tickets of colored passengers as they stood waiting to board, dashing their hopes of escape. A minister in South Carolina, having seen his parishioners off, was arrested at the station on the charge of helping colored people get out. In Savannah, Georgia, the police arrested every colored person at the station regardless of where he or she was going. In Summit, Mississippi, authorities simply closed the ticket office and did not let northbound trains stop for the colored people waiting to get on. (p. 163)

***

Fewer than one out of five sharecroppers ever saw a profit at the end of the year. Of the few who got anything, their pay came to between $30 and $150 in the 1930s for a year of hard toil in the field, according to a leading Yale anthropologist of the era, or between nine and forty-eight cents a day. The remaining eighty percent either broke even, meaning they got nothing, or stayed in debt, which meant they were as bound to the planter as a slave was to his master. (p. 167)

***

Yet the hardened and peculiar institution of Jim Crow made the Great Migration different from ordinary human migrations. In their desperation to escape what might be considered a man-made pestilence, southern blacks challenged some scholarly assumptions about human migration. One theory had it that, due to human pragmatism and inertia, migrating people tend to “go no further from their homes in search of work than is absolutely necessary,” [British historian E. G.] Ravenstein observed.

“The bulk of migrants prefers a short journey to a long one,” he wrote. “The more enterprising long-journey migrants are the exceptions and not the rule.” Southern blacks were the exception. They traveled deep into far-flung regions of their own country and in some cases clear across the continent. Thus the Great Migration had more in common with the vast movements of refugees from famine, war, and genocide in other parts of the world, where oppressed people, whether fleeing twenty-first-century Darfur or nineteenth-century Ireland, go great distances, journey across rivers, deserts, and oceans or as far as it takes to reach safety with the hope that life will be better wherever they land. (p. 179)

***

Against nearly every assumption about the Migration, the 1965 census study found that the migrants of the 1950s—particularly those who came from towns and cities, as had George Starling and Robert Foster—had more education than even the northern white population they joined. (p. 262)

***

Overall, however, what was becoming clear was that, north or south, wherever colored labor was introduced, a rivalrous sense of unease and insecurity washed over the working-class people who were already there, an unease that was economically not without merit but rose to near hysteria when race and xenophobia were added to preexisting fears. The reality was that Jim Crow filtered through the economy, north and south, and pressed down on poor and working-class people of all races. The southern caste system that held down the wages of colored people also undercut the earning power of the whites around them, who could not command higher pay as long as colored people were forced to accept subsistence wages. (p. 317)

***

[George Starling] and his co-worker barely noticed that everyone else at the bar happened to be white as they regaled each other with stories from riding the rails. When it was time to go, they paid their tab and put their glasses down.

The bartender had said very little to them the whole time they were there. Now the bartender calmly picked up their glasses, and instead of loading them into a tray to be washed, he took them and smashed them under the counter. The sound of glass breaking on concrete startled George and his co-worker, even though this wasn’t the first time this had happened to them, just not at this bar, and it attracted the attention of other patrons. 

“They do it right in front of us,” George said. “That’s the way they let us know they didn’t want us in there. As fast as you drink out of a glass and set it down, they break it.”

There were not colored or white signs in New York. That was the unnerving and tricky part of making your way through a place that looked free. You never knew when perfect strangers would remind you that, as far as they were concerned, you weren’t equal and might never be. (pp. 340-41)

***

“Even in the North, refugees were not always safe,” wrote Arna Bontemps and Jack Conroy in the 1945 book Anyplace but Here. “One hard-working migrant was astonished when a detective from Atlanta approached him and informed him that he was wanted back home for ‘spitting on the sidewalk.’”(p. 367)

***

Contrary to conventional wisdom, the decline in property values and neighborhood prestige was a by-product of the fear and tension itself, sociologists found. The decline often began, they noted, in barely perceptible ways, before the first colored buyer moved in.

The instability of a white neighborhood under pressure from the very possibility of integration put the neighborhood into a kind of real estate purgatory. It set off a downward cycle of anticipation, in which worried whites no longer bought homes in white neighborhoods that might one day attract colored residents even if none lived there at the time. Rents and purchase prices were dropped “in a futile attempt to attract white residents,” as Hirsch put it. With prices falling and the neighborhood’s future uncertain, lenders refused to grant mortgages or made them more difficult to obtain. Panicked whites sold at low prices to salvage what equity they had left, giving the homeowners who remained little incentive to invest any further to keep up or improve their properties.

Thus many white neighborhoods began declining before colored residents even arrived, Hirsch noted. There emerged a perfect storm of nervous owners, falling prices, vacancies unfillable with white tenants or buyers, and a market of colored buyers who may not have been able to afford the neighborhood at first but now could with prices within their reach. The arrival of colored home buyers was often the final verdict on a neighborhood’s falling property value rather than the cause of it. (pp. 376-77)

***

[Martin Luther] King was running headlong into what the sociologist Gunnar Myrdal called the Northern Paradox. In the North, Myrdal wrote, “almost everybody is against discrimination in general, but, at the same time, almost everybody practices discrimination in his own personal affairs”—that is, by not allowing blacks into unions or clubhouses, certain jobs, and white neighborhoods, indeed, avoiding social interaction overall.

“It is the culmination of all these personal discriminations,” he continued, “which creates the color bar in the North, and, for the Negro, causes unusually severe unemployment, crowded housing conditions, crime and vice. About this social process, the ordinary white Northerner keeps sublimely ignorant and unconcerned.” (p. 387)

[a-midwinter-night-dream-86]

Christina Pond, Disney Duck-Verse OC

The latest episode of DuckTales managed to pull me out of the emotional dump that was Avengers: Endgame, thank God. I've said it before, I love Darkwing Duck and The Duck Knight Returns made me happier than I'd been when I received my Loki plushie from Funko in the mail.

That's a different story. Moral: don't go on Amazon at 3am. You'll sleep shop.

It also spurred me to finish the last few episodes of the original series in my rewatch, and amidst all the duckiness, I felt inspired, as one does, to create an OC. A . . . ducksona?

Christina Pond exists both in the original Darkwing Duck and in the DuckTales (2017) universes. In both she's a nurse, but in the one, she works in St. Canard and in the other, in Duckburg. Cos you've got to be where the action's at, right? Right.

In Darkwing Duck, she first meets our hero when Mr. Overprotective Dad has to take Gosalyn to the ER because she broke her arm or sprained her wrist (etc.) during a particularly rough sporting game. Chrissy is just another nurse, abate a kind and careful one, and is easily forgettable. Except sometime later, maybe in the next two weeks, Drake does something really dangerous, or majorly stupid — something that prompts a freaking out Launchpad to rush the masked mallard to the ER. As Darkwing. Because DW gets into far more trouble as Darkwing than Drake. That is a fact of life.

Anyway, DW is brought to the ER by Launchpad and Christina hurries to help stabilize whatever the heck is wrong with Darkwing. She's doing her job and doesn't suspect anything at all until Darkwing wakes up and starts talking. Talking in the same exasperated but also kinda worried and scared tone Drake Mallard used when he brought Gosalyn in. The tone strikes Christina as familiar, and that's when she starts to wonder.

(That's as far as I got with DWD!Christina, and it still has some kinks to be worked out.)

In DuckTales, Christina was around six or seven when she first saw the Darkwing Duck TV show. She was enthralled from the first:

"Now, Chrissy, just stay in here and watch TV while I settle your brother down, all right?" Mrs. Pond told her daughter, bouncing a squalling baby on her hip. She fumbled with the remote for a moment before the television switched on. A jazzy song came on, competing with the crying baby for loudest noisemaker. "Just, just turn it down, okay?" she said, slipping the little girl the controller.

Little Christina watched her mother disappear with her crying brother before her eyes strayed back to the television. A dark figure in a purple cape leapt through shadows on rooftops, talking to himself — narrating the story — before a shaft of moonlight revealed a masked face beneath a grey fedora. And in that moment, Christina was hooked.

When Mrs. Pond returned to the living room a half hour later, baby finally settled down for a nap, she found her daughter clutching a throw pillow to her chest, her eyes riveted to the screen. With a tired sigh, she plopped down on the couch next to Christina. The child didn't so much as acknowledge her, fixated as she was on the TV. Mrs. Pond found herself glancing between the purple clad hero monologuing during a fight scene with a toy wielding clown and her daughter in confusion. Because at six years old, Christina Jane Pond had made two things perfectly clear: she didn't like action scenes and clowns were the stuff of nightmares. So this, this was new.

"Hey, sweetheart, what are you watching?"

"Darkwing Duck," Chrissy said, awe blooming over her face as the masked hero delivered a well aimed web kick to the bucktoothed clown.

Mrs. Pond blinked at her. "Okay, and do you like it?" A redundant question, she was sure.

Christina's curls bobbled with her frantic nodding. "I'm gonna marry him one day."

Mrs. Pond regarded the hero, this Darkwing Duck, for a moment. Most girls Christina's age wanted to marry princes or their dad. She'd never pictured her little girl with her blue sundresses and flower fixation picking a dark superhero for her first crush. The contrast was so different . . . She ran a gentle hand through her daughter's deep red curls. "That's wonderful, sweetie."

Of course, Darkwing Duck was so much more to Little Christina Pond than a first crush and cool TV show. She'd carry a Darkwing doll to school everyday, safe in her sunflower backpack. She wasn't as outward with her love as a young Drake Mallard was, being a shy and somewhat closed off girl with her head in the clouds. But instead of princesses and unicorns, she imagined Darkwing saving her, or her him, and their adventures together. She dreamed of and doodled a caped hero and his sundress wearing sidekick in the margins of daisy patterned notebooks and worn textbooks.

The Darkwing doll stayed home for the first time when the show was cancelled. She was devastated and full of so many worries and questions. Her classmates picked up on her mood and soon wheedled out the source of Christina's misery. But Darkwing Duck was a lame show that wasn't even for dumb girls anyway, and Christina gained the moniker of Nerd. She never left her doll home again.

When she was thirteen, she decided she was going to be a nurse. She couldn't be a superhero like her Darkwing, that'd be too crazy, but nurses helped people. They took care of the little things. They saved lives. She'd study and study, often alone save for the company of her old doll. She'd bounce off ideas and equations and quiz problems to the toy. When she went off to college, she made sure to tuck him safely beneath her pillow, because if her roommate found him, certainly she'd call Christina a nerd, too. Or else something worse. And she'd been called worse.

At her heart, Christina was still shy, so very sensitive, and terrified of the world beneath her castle of clouds.

Years afterward, as a certified nurse working in Duckburg, she learns Jim Starling — "Darkwing!" would be in town. In all the years she'd been a fan, she'd never thought to go and meet the actor. She'd be too nervous, too scared, worried the dream from childhood would be shattered in an instant, but he was there and so she went to meet him in a parking lot at a mattress store.

And days later after an explosion that changes everything, Negaduck didn't forget the kind face of a nurse standing in a parking lot, gazing at him with all the hope and innocence of a devoted child.

. . . DT!Christina is a bit more expanded than her DWD! counterpart. But that's okay. There's a lot that could be explored there. She's pinned all her dreams of Darkwing on Jim, only for him to potentially use her and shatter them, but then there's Drake Mallard, who is Darkwing in spirit and action, who could be the hero Christina desperately wants. And maybe she'd be able to save him, too. Who knows?

I'm kinda shipping a Jim Starling x Christina Pond x Drake Mallard love triangle here. It's better than any clandestine Legomance written when I was thirteen, that's for sure.