Bye, bro' Stick !

[[ • caaaasually rolls in

Watching the young boy use the goggles and experiencing the types of things the naked eye couldn’t see was always a sight to see. It just showed how much awe and wonder one could have in them as they dabbled further to try and understand what they were seeing. Definitely a wholesome feeling of joy and accomplishment was in the scientist, but he wanted to let Dugan have the moment to himself to feel unbound and free to explore with the goggles on. That very same technology will eventually get integrated into the Gizmosuit when he can make adjustments with it, but it would be nice to see how the public model will work too.

“\That can definitely happen with that type of vision! Usually it’s used to see certain rays or lasers that have a bit of a crimson hue to them. Might even find a secret or special agent using this type of vision to infiltrate places./” Fenton phrased, giving the duckling a hint or two as to the setting that he was on. No point in not letting Dugan figure it out for himself, but everyone did need a clue every once in a while, and this was just one of those times. Nothing too serious, but something to test the waters and see how far the kid’s really gotten in his studies!

Though considering that he was still working on Scrooge’s time and it being the laboratory that he was working in, he might have to get back to his work shift soon. As chill as things were down here, there were always those moments where if not enough work or progress was done, “\Oh, drat! I forgot that I was on break at the moment and it’s nearly over./” he exclaimed to himself after lightly slapping his forehead with the palm of his left hand. After taking a look back at Fethry’s nephew as he was still looking around the room, probably with a different vision on by now, he weighed his options of cutting their time short and taking the goggles off of the boy, or letting him have a little more time with it, if he was responsible enough. Maybe it was too much to ask of a child for that, but he did want to have that chance when he was a duckling. Yes, it was not for everyone and hardly did the situation go the exact same or would one’s reaction be to it compared to another situation, but he did not want to feel bad for separating the boy from the product. It wouldn’t be right for that in his eyes.

“\Dugan, would you… like to continue using those goggles more? You can as long as you stay in this area. I have to go back for my work shift, but I will try to check up on ya periodically. Can you keep things under control here?/” Fen prompted, hoping that the answer would be a yes so he could feel comfortable. If it was a no, then he’d have to think of an alternative quick.

“Whoa, really?” Raised brows and wide eyes — the thought of using the same tools as someone in that line of work was almost hard to believe, but none the less awe-inducing. Like a miniature Bond agent, Dugan struck a daring pose and bore the biggest grin he could manage. 

 “Maybe I’LL be a spy one day! And I’m gonna use... um, red vision! And kick butt while dodgin’ lasers!”

While an educated guess, Dugan had a lot to catch up on for a kid his age. And vision names... they weren’t exactly on the top of the list of things he needed to learn, not when he had to socially adjust. In the meantime, his face lit up as Fenton offered more time with the goggles. Time alone? With potential spy equipment? “YEAH!” How could a duckling say no to that? “I mean, it’ll be like I never even touched the place — promise!”

GROUNDED

“Aunt Daphne...?” 

Heh, that was a new name! Dugan tilted his head as he was placed onto the couch, and he started to relax. It was hard not to feel tense at the topic of family  – well, except for his prickle. He couldn’t recall the last time Stick and him had got in a tiff. And of course, Fethry was part of his prickle now. 

Yes, there was a difference between Family and Prickle. No one could convince Dugan otherwise.

{ ☆ } Classic Dugan, actually believing that those crackers are made of crumbled creatures. Cisquinho, however, knows better. After asking Unca Gladdy in a panic if he has been devouring his friends without realizing it, the gander had been quick to reassure the loon-duckling that the crackers are in fact, NOT made of real ‘aminals’. They are simply shaped that way, like when the boy makes his mud pies. Pretty-looking— with grass and twig embellishments —but not nearly as edible as a real baked good. Of course, everything that the gander says is immediately taken as fact… Their Unca Gladdy doesn’t lie to them. 

But unlike his pies, those glorious crackers are edible. Wonderfully so… Which is why Cisquinho has neglected to let Dugan in on this revelation. Hey, it’s A LOT easier to get them now that he doesn’t have to battle his brother for the boxes… and maybe he had been trying to use a little ‘reverse psycho-ography’ to make the battle to the tree easier as well.

“Nu-uh!” Cisquinho lies denies, arms crossing with a huff and an insulted pout tugging on his beak. The nerve! Suggesting that he’d stoop so low as to play mind games with his brother… “An’ it’s called reverse psychopathy. If you’re gonna ‘cuse someone, ‘least get it right. Geeze…” Latter statements are mumbled under his breath, eyes rolling before they suddenly dart back to the other boy hovering over him. An eye narrows suspiciously, body tending and brow raising at the sight of that smug grin… What are you up to, Dugan?

Eyes grow wide when his brother suddenly races away, Cisquinho quickly scrambling to his feet— kicking up dirt and grass as his shoes hit the ground —and scampering after the loon-duckling. “Hey! No fair!” Arms swinging and legs pumping, he starts to gain ground— going for an all-out burst of speed in an attempt to catch up, rather than try and save his everything for the long haul —words slipping out through labored breaths, “Doesn’t matter… anyway… ‘cause I’m still gonna… beat you!” Just a little further and he can try to pass him…

“Those crackers-” and bragging rights, something that is unspoken but VERY apparent to both of them, “-are gonna be mine!” Run Dugan, because defeat is hot on your tail… { ☆ } 

Before he took off, Dugan simply scoffed at the correction. At least, what little he'd heard from under his brother’s breath. It made Cisquinho’s shock all the more amusing as he watched him scramble from the growing distance. He laughed loudly at his brother’s expense, and for a moment didn’t notice that the other was catching up.

"Oh yeah?” A wide grin as he made the best of the tail end of his adrenaline rush. The downside of his starting sprint was getting to him, however. Though  Dugan kept up his competitive spirits, Cisquinho’s last boast was more than enough warning for the loss he might face. He turned to his twin with determination in his eyes, the truth behind the crackers finally starting to hit him. 

“You’ve– been hogging ‘em– for the last MONTH!” Cue the hardest shove he could manage between pants. It was shaky whether or not it threw Cisquinho off-balance – Dugan already slowed down into a jog to save energy from the sprint, but it wasn’t without effort.

@biquinhoduck

“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.

All loon vocalizations were way too feminine for Abner to make, in his opinion. But just this time… He would use it.

A panicked squeal as the familiar stranger pointed him out. Biquinho stuck his tongue out from above, but even that couldn’t hide the boy’s apprehension. That man, what if he tried to bring him back to his Uncle? The thought of it made him tremble within the branches, leaves shaking off in tandem with his fears.

Throwing away food? Of course he wasn’t! He could always pick off the apples from the ground. For a few good moments, Biquinho paid no mind to the bait. Not for a lack of temptation of course, but he couldn’t take the risk of being caught again.

After all, he was no one’s pet. No one’s toy to be played with, a mere thing to be tamed. Nothing could ever–

That voice.

It was familiar, so soothing, yet it was nothing like he’d ever remembered hearing. He stopped shaking the canopy to get a better listen, and could only wonder how such a sweet song could come from someone so gruff. Though he tried to ignore it, nostalgia overwhelmed him with a longing for something he’d never had.

Biquinho eyed the jar of peanut butter for a good ten seconds, then reluctantly climb down. As he carefully reached the forest floor, one had to wonder how the duckling became so disheveled. Matted feathers, tears in his sweater, and his shoes so worn that he was better off going barefoot. The poor thing looked like he hadn’t been preened in weeks on end.

As intended, he practically dug into the jar. Licking the sides, sticking his beak into the container, scooping out globs of peanut butter to eat out of his hands. It was messy for sure, but Biquinho’s squeaks and smacking bill were a good indication that he liked the meal. He’d sometimes glance at Abner between bites to see if he’d pull anything funny, but the bait was clearly working.