#AOoP: Duck Sanctuary

[after-out-of-place]

Epilogue - They Don’t Know (Pt.3)

Rubber ducks were an odd phenomenon in this world. Sure, children loved to pretend to see them all the time and people kept them as lawn ornaments: sitting near ponds; wearing hats; guarding vegetable patches and the like, but they were largely considered mythological and at best 'plausible'. The most commonly believed folklore placed the "Duck" as a mythological creature responsible for clean sanitation, the growth of crops and their laughter was said capable of creating earthquakes - but nobody had ever actually seen one alive, and considering illustrations of them closely resemble geese, the "Duck" had largely been considered pure fiction.

But here Bubble-Glub and Horace stood, both of them leaning forward against a hip-high wooden fence, overlooking an artificial pond while in conversation with a placid; purple; rubber duck by the name of Marcie. Marcie had climbed up on the side of the pond, her little webbed feet making careful 'plap, plap, plap' noises as she paraded herself around for Horace. "I have feet!", Marcie quacked, squeaking happily, "Two! They help me walk and swim." "I know how to swim," said Horace, "but I use my arms too." "But you have feet as well? Why only use your arms?" "Uh, I mean I don't just use my arms, you use your whole body." Horace tried to explain in further detail, but quickly found himself explaining the concept of swimming as humanoid.. to a duck. Despite his surprisingly impressive knowledge on the sport, Marcie could only look at him quizzically through the whole ordeal. She then shifted the topic back to herself for a while, explaining her vast knowledge on ducks - or rather one duck in particular: Marcie. "And I have wings!", Marcie concluded. She then demonstrated her use of them briefly before exiting the little pond area, quacking a tiny goodbye and leaving Horace with a rather good feeling of what a real duck looks like.

"So, uh, has purple become like, your whole thing? Because I might have to change the posters..", Horace asked not long after Marcie left. He'd noticed DD dressed in royal purple today and Bubble-Glub would usually wear similar colors to complement their green appearance - and Marcie happened to be purple as well. Bubble-Glub reassured him that, no, purple wasn't 'their whole thing' and it happened to be rather circumstantial. Horace turned around, leaning back against the fence instead. "So, like, how hard is it to run your own business?" "I'm a ex-bartender and currently musician, bub. You've more experience being your own boss." "As a swimming instructor? Or? I mean, I guess coffee is a liquid too, just like water?" "Only if you brew it wrong." replied Bubble-Glub, nodding. Horace took a moment to determine it was meant humorously, but then laughed wholeheartedly. "Okay, but if purple isn't your thing, what's with the style? Like, you both look good in whatever you're wearing right now, but I don't think ducks would like suits?" "Oh." Bubble-Glub fell silent for a moment, thinking. "DD wanted to be extra presentable today." "Yeah, but how about you?" "Gotta match Dee, don't I?" "But you're always dressed like that, though, so isn't she matching you instead?"

Horace, for as simple as he seemed sometimes, hit right on target. Bubble-Glub generally liked to dress snappy, even when just being at home. Today was a day for dress pants and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled most of the way up, the top few buttons left undone so their skin could breathe better. They preferred wearing suits - not out of wanting to be formal, but because they made them look capable; respectable. Therein lied the rub, or at least in Bubble-Glub's perception. It took a while before they answered, mulling over what words to use before ultimately deciding that Horace wouldn't care about the how - only the what of was being said. "Horace, be real with me. How do I look to you?" "Uh, nice?" Horace looked over Bubble-Glub, caught off-guard by the sudden question. "… Can you see it?" Bubble-Glub followed up, stepping away from the fence and trying to pose casually. They failed to do so, looking awkward with a bothered expression. Horace looked closely, noticing their translucent green skin catching the sunlight rather well - and the faint outlines of a humanoid skeleton beneath the skin of their face, torso and arms. "Yeah, I guess? The skeleton? I mean, if I look real hard. It's kind of cool, like one of those, uh, hidden picture pictures." "Thanks Horace." Bubble-Glub let out a sigh, dropping the tension from their posture. "Wish everyone thought like you."

The two stood in relative silence for a while, before Horace leaned away from the fence and focused on Bubble-Glub again. Horace figured that essentially every slime-person would be at least a little see-through, though it'd be rude to stare. To him, everyone had their differences worth celebrating - but Bubble-Glub seemed self-conscious about theirs. "Wait, Bro-Glub, are you bothered by it?" "Nah. You can say Bro-Glub." "No, I mean, the skeleton thing." "Oh, I ain't bothered by that. Some folks are, and they ain't nice about it. That bothers me." "Man, Bro-Glub," Horace shook his head, "People can be seriously uncool about things you can't control, dude. But that makes them uncool. Not you." "You really think it's cool? D'ya think D-" "Yeah dude. It's cool, Like … like iced coffee." "You're really into the whole coffee thing now, huh?" "Always have been, man. And like, Wallace LOVES it, so."

There was some more talk about coffee, some more talk about ducks and how appreciated Horace felt now that he found his place in After Out Of Place: he'd doubted himself very hard, but all the band's members made him feel celebrated - and celebrating differences is rad as hell, Horace insisted. Having had such good conversation while soaking up some later-afternoon sun (as well as having a good idea of what ducks now look like), Horace asked to go collect his papers to show both owners of the Duck Sanctuary his designs for promotional material - because now that ducks exist, they need all the help they can get. "And hey … Bubble-Glub?" "Yeah?" "Hey, so, do you think it's true? That ducks cause earthquakes when they laugh?" "Hmmmm, nah. Marcie laughs and we're still safe. She says her quacks don't echo, though." "Dude. That's wack." "Yeah."

[after-out-of-place]

Epilogue - They Don’t Know (Pt.2)

Wallace and Horace arrived in the afternoon, with Horace carrying a small bag with rolled up papers over his one shoulder while holding his other arm around his boyfriend. It took a while for him to figure out how to enter the Duck Sanctuary however, since he did not want to let go of Wallace while simultaneously wanting to hold open the door so Wallace could enter first. The situation got resolved by Wallace holding open the door instead, leaning in as Horace passed to give him a sneaky peck on the cheek. It was DD, in royal purple, greeting the two of them first, Bubble-Glub giving them a well-meant nod. "Oh, uh, yeah, hi!" Horace said in reply, still blushing. He slung his bag onto the floor, with a few rolls of papers already escaping. "I've been working on something! D'you guys want to see? Oh, shit, uh, no offense." "None taken." both DD and Bubble-Glub replied in tandem. "Okay, so, uh, actually, is it okay if I get to see the ducks first? I want to really do them justice but I forgot what they look like." Horace asked, with Wallace already nodding while carefully peeling Horace's large arm from around his waist. "Oh, and, babe, uh, you can go ahead and ask them for tips about how to run 'Our Place' better?"

They soon split off into two groups, with Bubble-Glub taking Horace to go see the ducks (while reassuring the large bear-eared individual that ducks do, in fact, have feet) and DD showing Wallace the small office space Bubble-Glub had claimed and had been doing their best attempts at proper, legally sound paperwork in. There were papers sorted in neat stacks, most of them with careful handwriting, in anticipation of Wallace's visit. There were a few notes left through-out, inviting Wallace to sit down to peer into the word salad of legalese. "Grand." was his response, taking the first few papers in hand. His hair remained in front of most of his face while his antennae carefully twitched about, leaving DD unable to really tell whether or not the young man had any trouble reading this. "Right. Business plan. Trademarks." "Glub's mentioned something about a 'Point of Sale' system, if that helpful?"

It was clear that Bubble-Glub had been writing from experience rather than from a business point of view and their penmanship was more crude in comparison to Wallace's, but it was not illegible. A helpful list of things was left on a separate note, titled 'Getting All Your Ducks In A Row'. Wallace groaned, his antennae adjusting slightly, seeming amused anyway. "What's it say?" asked DD. "Pun. Bad one, at that." Wallace took the note and put it aside for later, annoyed but not surprised that running a business seemed far more trouble than they'd originally hoped it'd be. The two of them continued exchanging some light banter: talk about their day; how DD looked cute in Glub's fedora; how to balance hobbies and work; how Horace found out that 'goat milk' isn't just 'oat milk with something extra'. Around the seventeenth page and umpteenth note Wallace leaned back and stretched out, not pleased with how this felt much like homework back at the University - but at least Bubble-Glub's handwriting alleviated the legal jargon with helpful explanations. Curiously, it had only been Bubble-Glub's writing. Wallace relaxed after his stretch, pulling his fringe down further over his face before letting go and it springing back into place. "Really left their mark." Wallace grimaced, facing DD while holding up a page with a particularly lengthy paragraph of Bubble-Glub's notes. “You’re not pulling your weight on the old paperwork then, eh DD?”

The remark had been meant as a lighthearted jab at the young woman, who had been sitting cross-legged on a different chair and absentmindedly plucking the six strings of her bass-guitar when the two started talking about how to balance their hobbies and work. Wallace's antennae had been twitching lightly along with the beat, until DD's fingers tensed and the instrument let out a soft, barely off-key note. She shifted in her seat, then continued to pluck. "Is it- is it not by choice?" Wallace's normally blunt tone sunk to one of concern; of deeply caring for a friend. DD didn't answer. Wallace carefully continued. "Can you … not read?"

[after-out-of-place]

Epilogue - They Don't Know (Pt.1)

DD looked at herself in the mirror, checking all sides of herself as best as possible, determining which style to go for: business, or casual? Bubble-Glub turned out to be a snappy dresser even during off-hours, despite (or perhaps because of?) their particular condition of being relatively gelatinous, and she wanted to try and at least match their vibe. Perhaps … perhaps if she changed into this one royal purple dress suit? It'd be cute, she decided, but only if 'BG' wouldn't mind sharing their one fedora. "Looks fine to me." Bubble-Glub derailed her train of thought, having appeared in the doorway and looking her current attire up and down. "It needs to be presentable." "You are. Then again, I might carry some particularly sticky bias." "Pff." came the answer, a quick exhale. "Dee, this is the Duck Sanctuary. I'm pretty sure ducks don't care." "I do." "I'm just saying, you've got the freedom to do whatever you want."

DD's eyes glazed over for a moment, shifting her weight as if she suddenly felt intensely uncomfortable in her own skin after hearing that. Bubble-Glub did not notice her doing so, thankfully, but did react on the lack of response. "Dee? You good?" "Yeah." she hadn't intended to make that sound so dismissive, the cold tone of her own voice startled her. Not wanting to dwell on that, or the rest of her current feelings, she followed it up quickly with a passing thought. "Just thinking about Wallace and Horace coming over later." "Ah, right, that's what this is for. Heard the big lug's working on promotional material for us? Didn't think he'd halt his potential singing hobby to pursue the arts, but maybe we're all better off for it. Especially Wallace."

DD responded with a gentle laugh, more out of etiquette than amusement. As Bubble-Glub left the room, smiling to themself, DD took a long look in the mirror at herself. She had total freedom, right, of course, but why did Bubble-Glub have to stress that? There were so many things she hadn't told them, and yet they were perfectly happy to simply exist in the same space with her. Maybe they knew more than they let on? That one particular day (it felt like ages ago already) she had intended to enter the Out Of Place to look for a late-night business opportunity, but found an eclectic bunch of folks trying to make music for a dwindling crowd. A dimly glowing bartender addressed her with a 'you look like you ain't from 'round here'. It was the first thing Bubble-Glub ever said to her. DD bit her lip thinking about it. If only Bubble-Glub knew how right they were back then. She had never told them; couldn't tell them, especially not now: the thought of Bubble-Glub expressing any negativity at all if she were to tell them that she came from beyond San Bearino; beyond the planet.. left her with a deeply unpleasant feeling.