Get off my lawn!

“Y'all seriously fighting over Superheroes? Darn, grow up. Who the hell cares!? Pathetic.”

@ducktales-wco-oo

“We have nothin’ in common, geeky boy.” Abner got closer, tensing arms and trying to make clear how bigger he was compared to Fenton.

“Yer my little brother coworker, so what!? I really have no idea what’s wrong with you people to go outta yer way to confront me over… nothin’!

Abner sighed, gesticulating and acting seemly surprised on why people always ended up having a problem with him even when he just wanted to be left alone. Of course, the lumberjack saw nothing wrong with his own behaviour.

“I have no problem with you, I barely know you. Be nice to my brother and I don’t see why we would ever have a problem…

Even ‘cause I could eat a poor little nerd like you fer breakfast.”

He chuckled, eyes carefully studying the other body language.

“…But I’m listenin’. Go on, so I can understand this truce of yours…”

{ ☆ } Again with the insults. Although, the unoriginal name doesn’t cut nearly as deep as Abner was probably hoping it would. Fenton has been called far worse things, even during his previous encounter with the temperamental male. If anything, it’s the clear attempt to make the (already quite noticeable) size difference between them even more apparent that causes Fenton to take another deep breath, shoulders tensing and fists clenching in an attempt to subdue his own bubbling temper. Now is NOT the time to lose sight of why he’s here. Losing his patience, and his wits, won’t help anyone or solve anything… 

He came to make things better, after all. Not WORSE.

Still, Abner seems like he’ll be a formidable challenge. It doesn’t seem like he understands what he’s done wrong or how he’s hurt people. Frankly, Fenton doesn’t know if that makes things easier or more difficult. Ignorance is not the same as hatred… and someone can be informed and assisted to grow when enlightened. Then again, one who doesn’t understand to THIS extent could merely be someone set in their backward ways to a frustrating extent. Optimistic to a fault, he chooses to hope for the best and mentally prepare for the worst.

“Um… For someone who supposedly doesn’t have a problem with me, you’ve managed to insult me three times so far within the span of this conversation.” Fenton points out, tone not confrontational. Just- confounded. “Not to mention, our previous encounter was far from friendly.” Thankfully, he’s had time to calm down… and the urge to ram his fist into Abner’s beak is but a faint, lingering memory. “But nevermind that!” Hands wave in front of himself, trying to prevent past feelings from being dragged into the current conversation. Internally chastising himself for mentioning it, he awkwardly clears his throat and tries again, “Believe it or not, we DO have something in common. Something incredibly important…” 

A hand moves to rest on his chest, tone filled with that (frustrating to some) sincerity Fenton is known for, “I care deeply about Fethry, and I know you do too. That alone should be MORE than enough for us to find an understanding. One that allows us to interact in a respectful manner, to prevent from causing Fethry any further distress.” Gesturing at Abner, he takes a small step forward as an act of goodwill, rather than a challenge, “But for us to achieve this, first I have to inform you that- Well… There needs to be some boundaries put in place.” 

A polite way of saying, there WILL be some… or they have a PROBLEM. 

"GOOD LORD! Y'all get offended at nothin'! We havin' this darned conversation then, as long as you lemme be after that!"

Abner pulled a metallic flask from his shirt and took a deep sip, he really needed some alcohol in his system to explain himself.

He then sat on log stump, fingers firmly holding the flask.

"...Fethry gets all happy talkin' 'bout you, and 'cause of that I'm givin' you a chance. Come on, sit."

Abner gestured at another tree stump.

"You were collateral damage." Abner looked down, a glimmer of shame on his contenance.

"I ain't going after people no more, I did a lot of soul searching... I was worried about losin' him again, 'bout he disappearin' in another adventure. I don't wanna Scrooge exploring my brother again. So I was tryin' to protect him, but I fucked up big time..."

He took another chug. It had been quite a long time since Abner let his defences drop so low.

"...Since he came back he changed my view in a lotta things... Yer mexican people, for example, can be really nice, and tacos are great and all - But I ain't mad at you 'cause of that, It was more about... I was furious that Fethry may... like you."

Oh God, he stopped to drink even more.

"...'Cause Fethry was always weird, playing pretend n' wearin' our mom's clothes and stuff... But he did have a girlfriend at some point. And he never had a care in the World, he was always rambling about ABCDE people rights and gender and liberal nonsense."

Siiiigh.

"And it took me a while to accept that I'm gay. And I ended up lashing at everyone else, yer included. And about that...

I'm sorry.

Just like I said, as long as you be good to my brother I will have no problem with you... But I really, really would rather not hear a peep about the nature of this relationship of yours... So yer coworkers... And if somethin' else that is none of my business and I don't care and yer not talking 'bout that in my presence!"

He stood up suddenly, trying to hide how embarrassed and frustrated this particular subject was, literally covering his face with his hands. Abner was tense and clearly tipsy.

@soul-heart-and-beyond

“BWAHAHAHA! Kiddo, you’re totally nuts! But you’re also darn bold, and I respect that!”

He pats Dewey’s hair - even if they weren’t close, the duckling was still Abner’s nephew.

“…But seriously, these woods can be pretty dangerous; if I get you at the bear’s area again you better be sure I’m shovin’ you into a cage and sending you back to yer mother the same minute!”

He gave a small smirk and he closed his eyes as he was being patted on the head for being applauded about his bravado. It was only natural as he was the boldest of him and his brothers. 

That smirk didn’t stick around for long when the older duck mentioned bears.

“ Dangerous? Pssh, come on, when you’ve gone on adventures long enough, danger just seems like something to run towards, not from! I’ll take care of one of those bears if I got to! I’ll show you! “

@soul-heart-and-beyond

"I know there's like three of you, but I can't let you wander around and get hurt. Yer welcome exploring 'round these parts when you get older and with proper equipment..."

{Open Starter}

“Wow, you’re really a special kind of stupid. You must be an endangered species, I could put you in display at the Duckburg’s National Park and people would make a line for photos…”

{ ☆ } It’s… unnerving how quickly a scathing retort forms in Fenton’s mind, crossing lines that should NOT be crossed and bringing to light insults that should NOT be spoken. ‘And you are a special kind of insufferable spawned of unresolved father issues, general ignorance, and a sense of inadequacy you’re foolishly attempting to counteract through an overcompensation of stereotypical masculinity displayed in toxic and obnoxious behavior… Or in layman’s terms- You idiotic asshole, parading around like a ‘man’ to hide the fact you’re an insecure little bitch in need of a good cry and possibly a solid smack.’ 

All thoughts Fenton keeps bottled up inside, for EVERYONE’S benefit. Choosing instead to take a deep breath, shake his head to clear his mind, and aim an already exasperated look the rude male’s way. The conversation hasn’t even officially begun yet and he’s already feeling so… so… tired. But he’ll push onward; for Fethry. And Abner, believe it or not. Even if one person is inspiring and strengthening him more than the other.

"We have nothin' in common, geeky boy." Abner got closer, tensing arms and trying to make clear how bigger he was compared to Fenton.

"Yer my little brother coworker, so what!? I really have no idea what's wrong with you people to go outta yer way to confront me over... nothin'!

Abner sighed, gesticulating and acting seemly surprised on why people always ended up having a problem with him even when he just wanted to be left alone. Of course, the lumberjack saw nothing wrong with his own behaviour.

"I have no problem with you, I barely know you. Be nice to my brother and I don't see why we would ever have a problem...

Even 'cause I could eat a poor little nerd like you fer breakfast."

He chuckled, eyes carefully studying the other body language.

{Open Starter}

“Wow, you’re really a special kind of stupid. You must be an endangered species, I could put you in display at the Duckburg’s National Park and people would make a line for photos…”

"BWAHAHAHA! Kiddo, you're totally nuts! But you're also darn bold, and I respect that!"

He pats Dewey's hair - even if they weren't close, the duckling was still Abner's nephew.

@ducktales-wco-oo

“I really think you shoulda stop daydreaming about these dumb hobbies of yours and get into the ‘hard work’ part of you plan. Darn Fethry, you’re an adult! Yet your ‘goal’ last week was to be the best Magic player of the world!” Abner barks, crossing his arms.

“And you’re working for Scrooge yet again, for basically no money! Do you really think your nerd friends at the lab will teach you how to be a scientist? No! You’re supposed to go to college for that, and it’s not like people like us could afford college. Get your head in the game! Use these brains you claim to have!”

The older half loon looks away, something sad or maybe even hurt in the tone of his voice.

“…Or will you vanish into thin air again?… But you know what? Whatever. It’s not like it’s my problem.”

{ ☆ } Abner’s initial reaction isn’t too surprising; even after all these years, it’s familiar as ever. So, Fethry has already prepared himself for it. Mentally and emotionally, as best he can. Disheartening as it may be, it still brings a sense of relief to hear his brother’s voice again. To see him and be around him. Be around ANYONE. He can’t help but wonder how long that’ll last. Hopefully a while. Gaze is riveted on Abner, wide-eyed as he lightly nods to show that he’s paying attention, little hums slipping past his lips for good measure.

Brows knit thoughtfully, pointed beak tightening into a concerned frown at Abner’s words. At his point of view. “You’re too pessimistic.” Stated as a fact, a hand reaches out to rest on Abner’s arm, giving it a few light pats… and then staying there. Holding onto his brother’s sleeve without a second thought, as if Abner will vanish the moment he lets go. “You’re going to start molting like Donnie if you keep this up.” Grip grows tighter, gaze wandering to the side as he quietly adds in a lower, more serious tone, “And I’m NEVER vanishing again…”

The underwater lab is destroyed, after all. And Scrooge would never fork over the money to repair it from scratch. Not when he can shove Fethry to Gyro and Fenton instead. Still, these remain silent thoughts; as they SHOULD. Abner is grouchy enough without knowing about the exact circumstances that caused him to ‘vanish into thin air’. He’d never understand anyway. He’d only focus on the bad; on where their Uncle was… less-than-fair. Their family is strained enough as is. No need to add further conflict. Feathers ruffle, Fethry shaking his head and forcing them to flatten before looking over at Abner, donning an optimistic smile.

“You know, you should have more faith in people!” A questionable stance, considering everything he’s been though. They’ve been through. But one Feth makes nonetheless. “I believe in Dr. Gearloose and Fenton, and I KNOW they can help me be a real scientist! With a lab coat and- and a desk… and those cool goggles that prevent them from going blind.” Releasing Abner’s sleeve, Fethry moves to stand in front of him, lanky arms outstretching to the sides and chest puffing, “Plus, there are correspondence courses I can take too, right? And books I can read! And I already have loooooots of firsthand experience with marine life!”

"Oho, I'm a pessimist? Tell me something I don't know!" Abner answered, eyes looking away and feathers starting to puff up. "...And you're way too gullible! And I'm tired of seeing people taking advantage of it!"

The grumpy loon-duck's feathers puffed up even more when Fethry started to cling at his shirt - exactly as he used to do when he was a duckling and was afraid of something.

Abner had the impulse of pulling his baby brother into a hug, of protecting him, of telling him how much he missed him and how worried he was. But no. He should remain unmoved! What was him, a woman? What would he do next, cry!?

"If my feathers were to fall I would already be bald by now! And you better stop telling me that you won't be vanishing again because you're full of shit! You were always getting bewitched by some random stupid thing and running away from home! I'm not even sure how I keep giving a damn..." That being said Abner lightly tapped Fethry on the shoulder, in a subtly sign of affection.

"Why the fuck would I have faith in people only for them to break my expectations?" He frowned "What? Isn't that the chicken guy who sent Della to space!? Darn! Yeah, now I'm sure you're in great hands... of course." Abner huffed angrily "If they put you in a spaceship I swear to God I'll tear their bills out of their faces!".

No, don't let go of the sleeve, don't go away.

Yes, Abner knew about the 'do it yourself' books, and the correspondence and online courses and all that nerd/intellectual jazz Fethry were in, and he was sure most if not all of these were a fraud. Yet again, people using Fethry's naivety to scam him! HOW COULD HE BE SO BLIND!?

"Scrooge!? Scrooge is the biggest leech of them all! Fethry! He may have worked hard or something in the past, but... He uses people to get richer! Nothing is more important to him to get even more money!"

Abner now holds Fethry by both his arms to be sure he was paying attention and looking at him. He wasn't exactly angry; he was frankly concerned with Fethry's well being.

"I wish I could introduce you to uncle Douglas McDuck... He is the real deal! He never left Klondike to become a pampered city duck! ...I don't care what Scrooge's claim to have, I know he doesn't give a damn about you... They really tried to find Della, but what about you? And Donald had three kids to take care of and a lot of issues but... But frankly, Fethry, he was always pushing you away way before that."

A sad but sincere gaze at his brother's face.

@ducktales-wco-oo

“Tsc, I can’t believe you’re still awake, you pathetic scamp! But huh, never mind, the next one will kiss you goodnight… if you were really that lucky, I would’ve knocked you out with just one punch!”

With an evil grin on his bill Abner waits for Gladstone to fight back - he was eager to see how ridiculous the weak punch would be… But instead of trying to hit him the goose decided to taunt the hillbilly… So he wanted more!?

“I’M GONNA SHOW YOU THE BITCH! I’M GONNA PULVERIZE YOUR FUCKING BILL - AFTER I FINISH EVEN YOUR MUM WOULDN’T RECOGNIZE YOU - But you’re in luck, you ALREADY KILLED HER!”

The enraged loon duck raises his right fist, now aiming to hit Gladstone in the face; Abner was hopping mad and clearly out of control, ready to do something he would be sorry for… But Fortuna acted fast. 

Abner manages to hit Gladstone once right on his face; then everything started to collapse. The loud creak of the trees made the lumberjack jump back, a terrified look on his face; Abner knew very well the sound of an incoming disaster.

“NO! THE TREES!”

He skillfully dodges two of the falling trees, but the third one falls right on his right foot. Abner shouts and curses, wriggling desperately while trying to escape; but he was trapped. Another tree trunk falls over the mess, one of its branches impaling the loon duck on the torso; its only then, when blood starts dripping from his mouth that he realizes…

He was going to die.

Abner coughs, trying to keep grinning at Gladstone. “MURDERER! THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE! Y-you must be so proud… of… y-yourself… winning without doing… no…thi…ng…” The lumberjack spits blood and uses his last forces to give Gladstone the finger. 

He finally faints, a red pool growing and growing beneath him. But, honestly? He was thankful for going down while fighting.

{ ☆ } Once again, the tried and true insult rings clearly in the air. How many times can Abner bring up Gladstone’s deceased mother and the fact that the gander killed her, in a single fight? Words and accusatory tone feel SHARP as shards of glass, cutting straight through Glad and making his heart bleed. Blood mirrored in the palms of his hands, pale surface adorned with red welts that sting and ooze crimson, and his lips as he spats out another round of blood. This time, aiming at the other’s feet in a bout of disgust and disrespect. A clear challenge to shut the fuck up and HIT him already… 

Turns out, Abner’s timing couldn’t have been BETTER. 

Thrust backward by the force of the punch, pain blossoms across Gladstone’s bill, enticing a ringing in his ears and warmth to flow from his nostrils. Stumbling back, eyes closed and blood cascading down his face, arms flail in an attempt to regain his balance before he can hit the ground. Steps are wobbly, Glad ‘tripping’ over divets in the ground and branches that fell long ago, each one guiding him from the fray in a dance of perfect chaos. Dodging whatever stray branches threaten to come his way— the majority seemed riveted on his assailant —the morbid string of luck ends with him slumped against a tree.

This one, solid and sturdy as can be, with a canopy of greenery sheltering him from above. 

Chest heaving from the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, a hand shakily wipes at his face, smearing scarlet on disheveled snowy feathers and coating his lips with a metallic taste. Scrunching his beak at it, hissing at the ache it elicits, eyes flutter open with difficulty… only to snap open completely at the sight of the destruction Fortuna had wrought. No; had wrought in HIS defense. He might have well brought down the forest with his own two hands. Swallowing thickly, body tremors from the sight. Heart pounding heavily and blood rushing to his ears, drowning out everything aside from a muffled, headache-inducing ringing.

Look at what he did… Look at what he caused…  

Horror doesn’t even begin to describe what is shining in emerald hues when his attention snaps back to where he remembers Abner being, all color draining from his red-tinted face and heart stalling in his chest. His entire being seems to grow cold, the world growing still and silent as death… Well, save for Abner’s voice. Glad can hear HIS words loud and clear, despite how weakly they are spoken. What has  he done? Somehow, Abner’s statement manages to hit even harder than before. What is Fethry going to think of this? Than anything he’s ever spoken; if that’s even possible. What is he going to think of him? 

He killed him… Fethry’s brother… His cousin… His family… A bitch, but still family.

He just can’t seem to stop hurting people. No matter what he does, he always ends up ‘victorious’ in the end. That’s how it’s supposed to be. That’s how the world works, right? So, then why… WHY is it that he never feels that way? That in order for him to win, someone else has to severely lose. Is this really winning? Has he ever TRULY won anything? Draining those around him dry. Feeding off their misfortune… A leech. A murderous leech. 

He should have never left that casino.

Abner's body slowly became limp, his last offensive act finally succumbing to the blood loss. After all, he was but a tiny duck; maybe beefier than most of his fellow waterfowl but overall insignificant against the wrath of a true goddess.

The tree kept him standing up, the now red leaves still all in place, like some particularly macabre taxidermy mount. Gladstone was given front seat to watch the loon-duck's breath getting slower and slower until it seemly stopped.

It was impossible for the half-goose to apply pressure on the wound without disturbing the branch perforating the other male's torso, and as the minutes passed Abner's bill started to dim to light orange, his hands twitching lightly.

Gladstone's jacket was completely caked in red and while the hillbilly had indeed stopped bleeding he appeared to be completely gone. How could anyone survive such a severe injury?

...

The sudden sound of air being inhaled deeply and in desperation.

Starting in an almost inaudible volume and growing on intensity Gladstone started to hear a call; a haunting, melodic vocalization. It was Abner, the barely conscious half-loon was wailing.

{ ☆ } “Nerds use their brains!” Feth says with a slightly-strained lighthearted laugh, waving a hand dismissively at Abner’s far-fetched notion he should be insulted someone haphazardly decided to call him one. “I set goals for myself, and then through education and hard work, I figure out ways to achieve them!” How successfully he ‘achieves’ them, is up for debate.

"I really think you shoulda stop daydreaming about these dumb hobbies of yours and get into the 'hard work' part of you plan. Darn Fethry, you're an adult! Yet your 'goal' last week was to be the best Magic player of the world!" Abner barks, crossing his arms.

"And you're working for Scrooge yet again, for basically no money! Do you really think your nerd friends at the lab will teach you how to be a scientist? No! You're supposed to go to college for that, and it's not like people like us could afford college. Get your head in the game! Use these brains you claim to have!"

The older half loon looks away, something sad or maybe even hurt in the tone of his voice.

“Honestly there are a lot of more important things you should prioritize instead of spending on Halloween decoration and making a costume… Like, darn, act your age! Are you really going to spend Halloween dressed like a complete moron?”  

“….”

Quietly hides magical girl cosplay behind his back.

"...You look sad..."

Abner puts a hand on Mark's shoulder.

"You have a dumb silly costume done already, didn't you?"

The lumberjack sighs, a lot of thoughts going on his head.

"When I'm trying to make fun and provoke people... You're not included, alright? You can do whatever you want and you'll keep being amazing... Okay?"

The loon duck smiles and blushes a little, giving Mark a peck on his bill.

"Go have fun and let me keep on trying to pick fights with random people, right?"

“You… DIED? What the hell, dude! THAT’S NOT FUNNY! AT ALL! …Y-you’re a ZOMBIE! You’ll go after our DAMN BRAINS!”

Abner put his hands defensively in front of his body and began to wake back.

“Aw c’mon, stop doin’ that!” He pleaded, keeping his distance so as to not further any panic. “I will not! I don’t even like brains! I like hot dogs wrapped in bacon and ice cream sandwich pizzas!”

"Had you TRIED brains to know you're not going on a murderous rampage for more!? ...Can you even digest these other things...?"

But he had a point... He wasn't trying to eat the woodsman... Yet.

"How exactly did you die to be cursed like that...? Are you... Rotting away?"

"You... DIED? What the hell, dude! THAT'S NOT FUNNY! AT ALL! ...Y-you're a ZOMBIE! You'll go after our DAMN BRAINS!"

Abner put his hands defensively in front of his body and began to wake back.

Munch, munch, munch!

The forests in his midst felt more like home than the littered wastes of the Duckburg he knew. Fresh air, no turf wars between ne’er-do-wells and the ever vicious ranks of Scrooge’s iron-fist monopoly over the city he was taken to. If anything, Biquinho likened the place to the jungle he grew up in. More chilly, yes, but peaceful.

However, the duckling wasn’t alone. Headfeathers bristled at the sound of someone making their way through the trail, and his contented smile fell flat as he narrowed his eyes.

That face down below. It was familiar. Someone from a photograph. Someone that his dear “uncle” never wanted him to see. Someone who looked a lot more menacing in person, now that he thought of it. As he quickly receded to hide within the trees, autumn leaves began to shake off. Biquinho didn’t want to me seen, but being recognized was even worse.

"Found him!"

Abner whispered to himself, a victorious grin on his bill.

He had his own ways of knowing that Mary's child had run away once again - And even if Abner and Fethry had parted ways after series of heated squabbles about their father, Fethry wasn't there to give his opinion about nothing.

Abner was an experienced woodsman but even to him, it took several days deep in the woods to find the feral boy.

He ignores the apples being thrown at him. "You shouldn't throw away food..." Abner talks nonchalantly, sitting right below the tree Biquinho was.

As a good hunter, he knew he needed a good bait. He took into consideration what Fethry would like and what was normally effective on attracting wild animals.

Peanut butter.

The lumberjack opened a large jar of peanut butter and put it in his side for the boy to smell. The loon duck was next to it, but completely still, as he didn't want to spook Biquinho.

As a last lure he sang the loon wail, a call loons would use to call their own young; Abner was really thankful no one else was here to listen to him making the delicate and sweet sound his mother would sing for him, Mary and Fethry when she wanted to soothe them down.