▶ 𝙶𝙸𝚉𝙼𝙾𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙺™

I’m officially moving Fenton to @royalmuses !!!

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅 ?  

【 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄  】

           ▶  whether   it’s   your   sweet   nature,   breakaway cover,  or your natural displays of intimacy,  you have the undercurrent of the orange.  a love language in itself,  your nature makes others want to take a bite  &  enjoy the tang that you leave behind with your laughter.  you remind others of a summer day,  hot air,  long nights,  always hopeful you’ll never go away.  in her poem  ❛  the  orange  ❜   by wendy cope she said,    ❛  i  peeled  it   &   shared  it  with  robert   &   dave,   they  had  quarters   &   i  had  a  half  ❜    you’re generous  &  have much to give.  she also said,   ❛  this  is  peace   &   contentment,   it’s  new. ❜    well i say,   it’s  you.

Darkwing noticed the pride disappearing from his voice, but didn’t comment on it, simply scowling out in the distance. 

“First thing we should do is see what kind of environment we’re dealing with!” He repeated as if Gizmoduck hadn’t said anything. He started out of the plane, then paused and turned to the other. 

“Can your wheel even go over different types of terrain?” He asked. “Are you going to be able to patrol the island?” 

         ▶ ❝ — Naturally !! ❞    Gizmoduck declared,  sparing a huff at the older duck’s arrogant dismissal,    ❝ How effective would I be if my wheel couldn’t traverse over any kind of terrain ? ❞    He gestured toward it with a sweep of a large steely hand.  The wheel was incredibly versatile,  its tyre’s tread designed to cross uneven terrain with ease.  Gyro might have been an oddball,  but he knew his stuff.

Lena pauses, giving a loud sigh as she rubs at the back of her head. “Fine, fine, yeah, it was me– it was an accident, though, really!” And she wasn’t lying about that, either. She’s not that bothered about admitting it, considering it was an accident.

“I didn’t notice I even hit you until you said something.”

          ▶ On  that,  Fenton softens a little,  feathers smoothing.  Still a little bemused,  but he’s got no reason to keep her on the hook   (  &   is  he  mistaken,   or  does  she  seem  like  she’s  used  to  getting  into  trouble  ?  ).

▶ LENA

“What? No. Why would I do that?” She did, in fact, hit him-- it wasn’t really on purpose, though. “Maybe someone else did it and you just didn’t notice them? Maybe a mole monster or something.”

         ▶  She  was  laying  it  on  a  little  thick  to be telling the truth  ‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒   even Fenton could have told you that.  He tilted his head,  more puzzled than annoyed.  Dark eyes appraising.  His tongue clicked against his bill before he spoke again.  

【 🕯️ 】 — “…This way.” It wasn’t a request. Combined with the person(?)’s size and the oversized knife he held horizontally, he was not-so-subtly blocking his side of the hallway in order to push the fowl forward, down the hallway and into the lobby, then motioned at the set of double doors propped open by antique door-stoppers.

       The two doors led to a quaint, dimly-lit dining room, with the long, white table-clothed dining table taking up most of the room that could seat up to almost 18-20 people. A massive, ornate chandelier made diminished by the cobwebs clinging to it hung overhead, just in the center, and along the walls of the peeling red wallpaper were tarnished gold wall-mounted candles, flickering and dripping with wax that strangely never seemed to fall to the floor.

        The eerily quiet of the atmosphere was suddenly broken when the Chef dropped his knife into the floor, splintering the wood just behind Fenton, right at the only exit, save for the swinging door that led to the kitchen.

         “Beef stew or pork loin?” He asked. “I also have… vegetarian options…” No vegan though, they didn’t do vegan food here.

           ▶  Fenton  jumped  at  the  crash  of the knife smashing into the ground,  wheeling round with a sharp gasp that broke into a hiss.  Heart suddenly pounding.  Felt like the air went out of the room.  He swallowed hard as he looked back to the chef,  forcing himself to meet the red circles that burned in place of eyes. 

          ❝ Uhm  .  .  .   whaddaya got for vegetarian options,  yeah ? ❞    While not actually vegetarian himself   (  nor  vegan  ),   Fenton was cautious to accept meats from a guy who conducted himself like that in a place that looked like this.  For all he knew,  it’d turn out to be made out of people or something.  His surroundings  &  inability to recollect how he’d gotten here had him feeling like he’d been sucked into a horror movie ;   he figured he may as well treat it as such.

          The room was in a state of such disrepair that it was kind of hard to believe anybody still used it.  Not that the rest of the hotel was really in much better shape.  Everything looked like it had been out of use for hundreds of years,  only to wake itself unceremoniously from its slumber after long enough alone,  unassisted by any mortal hands.  

▶ @candyodo​ : Sends to your invoice the accumulated bill of accumulated flights. ↳ unprompted

          ▶  ❝ — Hhhhuh.  It’s uh.  It’s a little more than I thought it would wind up bein’  for such a small airline. ❞

▶ MR. McDUCK

Scrooge emerged angrily out of his vault, carrying a large bag of money.  “Hmph,” he grumbled, walking over to Fenton’s desk.  “Few things sour my mood like finding counterfeit currency.”  He removed a dollar out of his pocket.  “Look at this.  The color’s not changing on the bottom right and there’s no doggoned watermark.”  He put down the bag.  “If you’re not too busy with anything else now.  Check this big for any more counterfeits.”

          ▶ Fenton  leaned  forward  to look at the dollar,  stretching his neck.  So it was.  Fortunately,  how busy he was tended to depend on his boss’s current needs more than anything.  Opened the bag  &  spread its contents over his desk.  

🍃🏹➳ She took his words with a grain of salt, as she did when she recieved most flirts or praise– her jaded experience told her that men usually only wanted something from her when these sorts of overt situations arose, so she was already on alert from his greeting.

        “I mean, I do kinda live here,” she replied. Not entirely true, she lived in the forest on the other side of the portal, but she was still familiar enough with the area that she knew it like the back of her hand. 

         “It would probably be wise to not wander off the park path, next time, though,” she added as she led him. “Trust me, there’s a lot around here that’d love to make a meal outta ya, buddy.”

           ▶  Trust  that  he  knew  that perfectly well,   &  if it weren’t for his close personal association with Scrooge McDuck   (  to  say  nothing  of  a  certain  superhero  who  was  unfortunately  not  available  at  present,   as  it  were  ),  he’d probably feel quite out of his depth in his current conundrum.  As things stood,  however,  he could posture with the best of them.

▶ @virtuetm​ : " Well , you have to let me thank you somehow. You did save me after all. It is the least I can do ! " ( Daisy !!! ) ↳ unprompted

          ▶  ❝ — Oh,   it’s  really  not  necessary, ❞    is Gizmoduck’s natural response,  but of course he can see how much it means to her,   &  goodness knows he’d love a break as much as anybody.  His body aches inside the armor.  There’s warmth in him,  though,  too.  He softens visibly with the sound of a  hush  from the inner workings of the machinery itself.