#mrs featherby

[hitchell-mope]

I’m not so sure that counts ma’am.

[theonetruegnome]

Small epilogue-y thing

It's been another 4 days and I feel extremely guilty again. The ADHDemon has not left me yet... But anyway, I felt like the Chamomile story needed an epilogue, so here it is! Also, don't be mad, but I lightened Cham's font so it'd be more distinguishable from the rest of them. Sorry!

It was nighttime at the Featherby's house, and as usual, Conk and his mother were putting his little sister to bed with a story.

'...So there stands the pecking-bird in his corner, never moving.' Recited Mrs Featherby, 'But they do say that every now and again the kind-hearted clockwork mouse takes out his key and puts it into the pecking bird. Then for a little time the bird comes to life again - But he isn't allowed to keep the key for long! No, the other toys don't trust him anymore, and I don't blame them, do you?'

Chamomile lazily shook her head No and snuggled herself down deeper under the covers. Conk started forward but his Mum got there first. She gently lifted up her topmost blanket and wrapped it around Cham's small exposed shoulders. She looked so peaceful and calm, wrapped in soft linen and hugging her favourite stuffed platypus, Edward.

The two turned to leave the room, taking extra care to muffle their footfalls so the young chick wasn't woken. Cham didn't stir, even when the door gently closed with a soft *click!*

'Whew! Getting out of the room's always the hardest part. Thanks again for helping out Conk, she always likes having you around.'

She puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close to her side.

'No p-p- *Yawn* Problem Mom. I always love putting her to bed with you.'

Mrs Featherby frowns down at her son for a second. 'Bedtime for you as well I think Little Sloth...' 'Mom, I'm not tired! Can I please stay up a bit longer?' 'Hmmm... Tell you what; We'll go to the living room and watch one episode of something. If you stay awake throughout the whole thing, you can stay up another hour. That alright with you?' 'Yeah, sure, whatever...'

The two walked to the living room and sat down, She in her armchair near the window, Conk next to his father. Mr Featherby smiled as his son sat down and patted his thighs. Conk put his head in his lap and stretched himself out on the sofa. The screen shifted between colour pictures and complete blackness as they flicked through the Channels. Conk's mind wandered. He wasn't a bad person, by any means. He was kind, calm, he always had a pen... But scenes from the day's events kept playing over and over in his mind...

'That ok with you bud?' 'Huh?' 'We're going to watch Big bang theory. You fine with that?' 'Oh, yeah, that's fine.'

The episode came on and Conk almost immediately let his mind wander. Cham loved him so much, and that was the best thing about his life. But... the way she ran over to Leah and cuddled her at once, just a few hours ago... Was she happy with him? Things kept swirling around his head; him walking home alone. saddling the others with Cham. Not being the one to tuck her in earlier...

Mr Featherby straightens up, pushing his son into a sitting position. 'Alright, Conk, what's up?' 'Wha? What do you mean?' 'Sheldon just fell down the stairs, that kinda thing always makes you laugh!' He shrugs, 'I guess I just didn't find it that funny.' Mr featherby grabs both of Conk's shoulders and looks his son straight in the eyes. 'You're lying. I can always tell when you're lying. Conk, if you're upset about something, just tell us. Please?' Conk inflates his chest, puffing himself up. He then sighs and hangs his head. 'I just feel useless as a brother. I really don't do much to help Cham...'

'Awww, Conk, you're not useless at all! Cham loves you!' 'But earlier she was so happy with the others; And as soon as I left, she wrapped herself around Leah's leg.' 'Cham does that with everyone, she just loves everyone. But you are, and always will be, her favourite person.' 'But I don't do anything to help her. Earlier I left her with my friends so I could go home and take a nap!' 'Buddy, you were exhausted. You looked like you were about to fall asleep on your feet. How could you have helped her in that condition?' 'I guess I couldn't really-' 'And you already do so many great things that are really useful! You help us take her places, look after her when we can't, let her cry on your shoulder hen she's upset and you always, without fail, tell her a story, every night.'

The conversation is interrupted by soft rustling and tiny footfalls from behind them. All three turn and see Chamomile standing there, looking at them all while squeezing Edward tightly to her chest. She's got tears in her eyes and looks terrified.

'Cham! Why are you up? What's wrong?' '*Sniff* I had a bad dweam. D-Daddy said he didn' want me anymore *Sniff* an'- an' he threw me out int-into the road *Sniff* an' a big truck came an'-' 'Oh, Chicklet, I'd never do that. You're my beautiful baby girl, I wouldn't ever want to throw you into the road.'

Mrs Featherby gets up, but Conk has reached Cham first. He bends down and lets Chamomile wrap an arm around his neck. He then straightens up and supports her with his arms.

'It was only a nightmare Cham, it can't hurt you. I know it was scary, but it's over now, you're safe and we wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. Do you wanna stay up a bit with us? Or shall we take you back to bed and I'll tell you a story?' '...Story...'

---

'-But if you think this cured Mrs Pepperpot of reading her fortune in a coffee cup you are very much mistaken. The only thing is, she does take more care not to pick up the wrong cup and read her husband's fortune instead of her own.' Conk finished reading the story and looked up. He had gotten Chamomile back into bed, tucked her in nice and cosy and settled her down. She looked much calmer now, but still on edge, like she was fighting off drowsiness. 'Time to go to sleep now Chicklet.' 'I can't. I'm too scawed of having another bad dream.' 'I promise you won't. These things never come in twos.' 'Pwease stay with me Conkie?' 'Of course. I'll stay here all night. If you have another bad dream, just cuddle up to me, I'll make it better.' 'Okie... I love you Conkie.' 'I love you too Cham. Now it's time to sleep. *Yawn* Go- *Ah* Go to... *Yawn* sleep...'

Before they went to bed, Mr and Mrs Featherby peeped in to check up on Cham. They saw her snoozing with a smile on her face. Next to her, slumped in his chair, was Conk. He looked peaceful, and his expression was a similar one of contentment. Silently, Mrs featherby entered, wrapped a blanket around her son's shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead. She left soundlessly and closed the door with a smart *Click!*

[sarroora]

Here are some more lovely character expressions!

[ducktales-crackships]

Miss Quackfaster x Mrs. Featherby

Requested by Anonymous. It’s selflove and no one would even know.

[dvlaunchpad-mcquack]

[Hello! DVLP’s Mun here. I did get the other asks but I wanted to do some research before I replied. So far my research is turning up nil so I can’t respond in character.

I have headcanons about Launchpad’s favorite and least favorite foods but it has been several years since I wrote about them and the site I rped on has been shut down so I’m not sure where to find the exact answer I am looking for. I know I referred to a Donald Duck comic for Launchpad’s least favorite food. I think it was Duckburg zucchini but I will not swear on my memory. 😆

I remember Scrooge replaced all of the food on the ship with nothing but the squash/zucchini, and forced Donald and the triplets to eat that for days on end. Then the Beagle Boys hijacked their ship. In the end, the zucchini turned out to be the key to getting what Scrooge wanted but everyone else was sick of it. I headcanoned that, because the zucchini was so prolific in Scrooge’s garden, he made Duckworth and Mrs. Beakley cook it, too, and gave some away to Gyro, Launchpad, Grandma Duck, Mrs. Featherby, and everyone else he knew, just to keep food from going to waste. And since everyone else would want to get rid of their unwanted zucchini, bottomless pit Launchpad would have been offered A Lot of it.

At first he would have been happy to take it. Zucchini bread is pretty tasty, and not much different from pumpkin bread and other sweet breads, after all, and there’s lots of ways to cook it. But by itself, it gets pretty flavorless after a while. And since Drake made zucchini meatloaf in an episode of Darkwing Duck, I decided to make that one of the few home cooked meals Launchpad will turn down at the Mallard house. 😆

As for Drake’s mental health, he casually said he gets manic depressive on weekends in one episode. I don’t remember which episode it was. I do remember he blew up the house over a house fly. I personally do headcanon that he has some kind of mental health disorder but I’m not qualified to diagnose him, nor do I feel comfortable in my limited knowledge to make my own headcanon off of that. I don’t think I can reply in character to it, either, other than having Launchpad come up with an excuse to avoid answering.

I just wanted to let you know I am not ignoring you or avoiding answering you. I just got a bit stuck. 🙃😄]

[ankkalinna]

Ms Quackfaster really has all those different forms but she has, for some reason, several names in English. The old grey-haired design has been called Emily Quackfaster, as well as Florence Quackfaster, and while I get why she would have different first names since she isn’t often called by it there’s also Ms Typefast, and Ducktales 87′ named her Mrs Featherby for some confusing reason.

Presumably some of them had different last names before they got married to the commune that is Scrooge’s flock of lesbian secretaries.

[the-record-newspaper]

The Killing of Rhonda Hinson Part 24

Detective James “Flash“ Pruett, formerly of the Burke County Sheriff’s Department, and his dog, Paiute.

By LARRY J. GRIFFIN

Special Investigative Reporter

For The Record

 When presented with competing hypotheses that make the same predictions, one should select the solution with the fewest assumptions. – Occam’s Razor

 It was in mid-December 1994, when 44-year-old Detective James “Flash” Pruett of the Burke County Sheriff’s Department began to look into the killing of Rhonda Hinson.  

Arguably the most perspicacious of all the investigators to scrub the case, Detective Pruett commenced his inquiries subsequent to an order from Sheriff Richard Epley.  “…Sheriff Epley instructed all investigators to look into the Rhonda Hinson homicide,” he wrote in his extensive case notes.  

Immediately, he located Rhonda’s grandmother, Julia Price—Judy Hinson’s mother—and interviewed her on Monday Dec. 19, 1994, six days after what would have been her granddaughter’s 32nd birthday. At the time, the 89-year-old lived alone in a home located on Rora Avenue in Valdese, approximately a mile from the Hinsons’ residence on Hillcrest Street.  

During the interview, Detective Pruett mainly listened as Ms. Price talked.  She provided little more than biographic information about her granddaughter; but Flash did inquire as to Rhonda’s confidantes.  “…I did ask who Rhonda would confide in or tell her innermost thoughts.  Julia said Rhonda was very close to Chris Price [Dr. Christina Hardin], her first cousin who is a schoolteacher in either South Jefferson or North   Augusta, S.C.  She said Rhonda told her problems to her during a family visit.  Another friend of Rhondas’s, Jill Turner [Mull] is married and living in Charlotte, NC.”

Additionally, Ms. Price did confirm that her granddaughter “spent a lot of time with the McDowell Family, would go to church, eat lunch, and come back home on Sundays.”

On Tuesday, Jan. 3, 1995, Detective Pruett purposed to locate a blue Chevy Nova that the McDowell Family owned in 1981. His objective:  to examine the automobile for any traces of Rhonda Hinson’s blood.

Flash contacted Shelia Robinson, secretary at Wilkies Grove Church, to inquire after a similar car belonging to her father-in-law, Jack Robinson.  She recalled observing a vehicle matching the description at his house but averred that he had sold it a year earlier.  

“I decided to talk with Jack today, and I located him at East Burke  High School.  He is a teacher there, and I was able to talk with him in a conference room near the front office.  Jack said he indeed had a blue 1969 Nova, but he had purchased it new.  It was never owned or used by the McDowells.”

Mr. Robinson confirmed that he had sold the automobile a year earlier to a Harold Cantrell; and, he had no recollection of a similar car being owned or utilized by the McDowells.  [Note:  In 1969, Mr. Robinson was teaching at Drexel High School.  He taught mathematics and physics to this writer who graduated in the same year that he purchased his blue Nova.]

According to Mr. Pruett’s case notes, it was during his first interview that Charles McDowell confirmed owning a blue four-door 1976 Chevy Nova.  Burke County property records, reviewed on Thursday, July 12, 1984, corroborated his claim.  Previously reported was a statement by Tonya Benge [Featherby]—who worked with Rhonda at Hickory Steel and attended the Dec. 22, 1981, company Christmas party with her and Sherry Pittman [Yoder]—in which she averred that she saw Greg McDowell picking up Rhonda Hinson at noon on the same day. The car was parked next to the building at Hickory Steel at lunchtime when Tonya and Rhonda exited the building together.

Before he concluded his interview with Mr. Robinson, Flash asked if Greg had ever “target practiced” around the church’s parsonage or near Jack’s home.  The pedagogue indicated that he was unaware of any firearms or target shooting by the neighboring McDowells.  

In an interview with Detective Pruett and—eventually—this writer, Judy Hinson maintained that Jack Robinson and student, Greg McDowell, were close.  Initially, Flash delayed talking with Mr. Robinson because of the alleged relationship between him and Greg; however, he decided to proceed.  

At the inception of his investigation, James Pruett was partnered with Detective Gene Franklin—the assignment was made by Richard Epley, Flash recollected, when asked about it over the weekend past.  In fact, on Friday Jan. 20, 1995, the sheriff issued an official case reassignment memorandum.  It read:

“On today’s date, Sheriff Richard Epley, Major Robert Lane and Lieutenant Greg Calloway assigned Detective James Pruett to be the lead investigator in the thirteen year old [sic] homicide of Rhonda Annette Hinson. Major Lane will assign Gene Franklin to assist Detective Pruett in the continuation of the investigation.”

Flash’s first mention of Detective Franklin, in his copious notes, was dated Monday, Jan. 30, 1995—10 days subsequent to the reassignment notice.  

“I met with Gene Franklin today to discuss his opinions on the case and to plan the re-creation of the crime scene…I was curious if Gene would come to the same conclusions I reached…. Gene’s conclusions were almost identical to mine.  He and I felt the previous investigators did an outstanding job, but were constantly under pressure to prove they were creditable.”

After a brief discussion of possible suspects and noting that the McDowells had credible alibis because “each member verifies where the other was at the time of the shooting,” the detective duo turned attention to re-creating the crime scene, aspiring to ascertain from which location the fatal shot had been fired.  They first visited the office of Norman Long in the county Tax Office.

“…[We] requested him to plot a rough field of fire from the angles I obtained from the photographs.  He made a large copy of the area and plotted the angles supplied. The 70-degree horizontal angle would have placed the gunman on the east side of [Hwy] 350 [Eldred Street] in a wooded area between Perkins Road and the off ramp at I-40.  The five-degree vertical angle was not plotted because of the lack of topographical maps.”  

After observing Mr. Long completing the map by marking off 25-foot increments from the exit ramp and extending north on Eldred St approximately 250 feet, the two detectives drove to the crime scene where they verified that it would be almost impossible to shoot into the vehicle on the 70-degree angle—the terrain was too steep.  They concluded that the fatal shot would have had to come from the eastside of Eldred Street.  

In 1995, Gene Franklin’s ex-brother-in-law, Jack Andrews maintained a surveyor���s office at 113 West McDowell Street in the city of Morganton.  Flash and Franklin visited the office to request that a survey team meet them on-site to plot the field of fire—a task that Mr. Andrews and his crew averred would be easy to complete with a scant few measurements.  It was agreed that all would meet at the location the next afternoon at 3:30 p.m.  

 The detective duo decided to meet the next day, in-advance of the crew’s arrival, to re-create the crime scene.  They also planned to wear off-duty casual clothes to conceal the renewed interest in the Hinson case.  There were two objectives to be attained:  First, determine the location at which the weapon fired the fatal shot; and two, to extensively comb the area for a shell casing that could have potentially been ejected from a rifle.  

Detectives, Pruett and Franklin arrived the next morning to stake-out the crime scene per their plans.  They also devoted some time to listening to motorists change gears as they navigated the incline of Eldred Street, after turning right off the I-40 Westbound exit ramp.

“We determined most of the time the drivers changed into third gear near the old torn down home driveway or near the power pole [where] the crime scene measurements were taken.  Gene and I feel the victim was in motion and changing the gears from second to third; but the shift was not complete when the projectile immediately killed the victim.”  

The survey team-of-three arrived at approximately 3:38 p.m.  The crew sprang to work immediately taking measurements from a previously located control point. Then, a moment of disappointment for Flash.  

“I immediately became disappointed when the vertical angle cleared the southern-most bank near the exit ramp.  I was wanting to completely discount the random-shooting from I-40 [theory].”  

The crew and the investigators left the scene approximately 5:14 PM, after deciding that they needed to reflect upon their angle logic.

Flash and Gene drove east on I-40, exited via the Rutherford College off-ramp before returning to the I-40 westerly direction from whence they came.  

“We were discussing the angle problems when suddenly Gene realized no one had compensated the six-percent grade into the formula.  We rushed to the surveyor’s office in Morganton and caught [two of the surveyors] in the parking lot.  We informed them of Gene’s finding, and they agreed the corrected formulas would lower the trajectory at least six-feet from the stake of the control 00 location. Due to that fact, it would be impossible for the projectile to have been fired from either Elmer Buff’s [located on a ridge south of the I-40 W off-ramp toward Mineral Springs Mountain and on the opposite side of the road from Hazel Street and Holly Hills] or I-40.  The angle would indicate it was absolutely possible the shooter could have ambushed the victim from or near the old logging road.”

For all intents and purposes—over 24-years ago—Detectives Pruett and Franklin eliminated the possibility that the killing of Rhonda Hinson was a random act.  

On Feb. 10, 1995, Gene Franklin wrote a synopsis of the Rhonda Hinson case, that not only questioned the efficacy of the investigation, but cast doubt upon its solvability.

[pick-and-shovel-laborer]

Scrooge’s secretary, Mrs. Featherby took the folder while Scrooge was on the phone.

“Hmph.  Now you listen here, Jeff Bozos!...I don’t care what your real name is!  You sure you can’t do any better?...Very well, $1,000,000 and not a penny more...We’ll meet tomorrow in the Amazon jungle, and don’t you forget to bring the scepter...good day.”  Scrooge angrily hung up.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. McDuck...” said Ms. Featherby.

“Oh, you must be Gyro’s lad,” he said to Mercury with a mild tone of voice and expression on his face.  “Gryo told me he was sending you up to give me a folder.  Well it’s nice to finally meet you.  I’m Scrooge McDuck.”

Scrooge got up from his desk, walked over to Mercury and extended his hand to shake.

@pick-and-shovel-laborer (closed starter)

Okay, Mercury, deep breaths. You can do this.

It was one thing to live with Dr. Gearloose and help in the lab, knowing that Scrooge McDuck, Mr. Moneybags himself, was up there somewhere in the building, being rich and successful and famous, with his oodles and oodles of money and his adventuring trophies and his... spats...

It was quite another to be asked to take a file up to his office because Dr. Gearloose was at a crucial stage of his latest work and couldn't leave it and that was what Mercury was for, right? Doing all those little jobs and chores that needed to be done but were not important enough for Dr. Gearloose himself?

But that didn't mean he wasn't nervous as hell. It was thanks to Scrooge McDuck that Mercury wasn't in jail right now, after he'd made the little problem of the old man... disappear. It was thanks to Scrooge McDuck that Dr. Gearloose was able to take care of him now, and so, indirectly, it was also thanks to Scrooge McDuck that Mercury had his cool jacket and swell boots and his beautiful new guitar, and all of the other wonderful things Dr. Gearloose had given him.

And what if Mr. McDuck didn't like him? What if after he met Mercury he decided it wasn't worth it to have helped him after all? Or if Mercury offended him in some way? What would he do if he called the police and told them what Mercury had done? That would put Dr. Gearloose in trouble too, for sheltering him.

"Get it together, Mercury," he chided himself. "You can do this. It's just handing over a folder. You just say, 'Dr. Gearloose sent this for you,' hand it over, wait a few seconds in case he has anything to send back, and then go. Okay. Deep breath."

He was outside the door. Obediently, he took a deep, deep breath, let it out, and knocked.

[sarroora]

There's a great Instagram channel that occasionally posts the ducks taking selfies and I LOVE it

[sarroora]

[sarroora]

@unclescrooge dat u