#floodedforest

Bushroot is touch-starved, so he’ll be shocked by contact but never objects.

He was frowned upon by his family, classmates, and coworkers his whole life. The Fearsome Four are the first to show him friendship. Other than Spike of course.

We know he has a higher kill count than Negaduck. I headcanon most of these were accidents and he has no clue that he does.

He seems like he doesn’t have a backbone, but when someone hurts a person, or flytrap, he cares about, he goes X-games mode. People get thrown across rooms, mean words are said, and occasionally someone dies. When this happens, the rest of the F4 are terrified and suddenly understand how he has the highest kill-count.

He’s the most emotional out of the group, and doubles as a therapist.

Reggie has mastered herbal healing techniques, so the others tend to go to the greenhouse after a fight.

This man has unpacked trauma from living though his own death.

He will outlive everyone except for Liquidator.

The only way to kill him includes taking away his ability to regenerate (i.e. burning, complete cut off of oxygen, no sunlight at all for a long time, no water, etc.)

He will die a virgin.

But he’s a bi disaster.

(Tw: Abuse) Negaduck found a way to interrupt his regeneration, so he can actually injure Bushroot when he’s mad at him.

Quackerjack likes him because they’re both the emotional ones and the only ones capable of saying the ‘f’ word… ‘friends.’

PlayThyme is the right brain pair.

Megavolt likes him because they’re both sciency, and they play tug-o-war with each other’s sanity.

PowerPlant, or Megaroot, is a right-brain/left-brain couple.

Liquidator is fond of him for his collectedness, and they balance one another.

Liquiroot, or FloodedForest, is a left-brain/right-brain couple.

He is more sane than Megavolt and Quackerjack, but still out of it and will have random crazed moments.

Talking Science

Moonrise! Have some actual plot. I realized the mutants were immortal so I thought of this. Tw: Angst, past character death, sadness.

“Old St .Canard. Good to see it’s still standing,” Bushroot said, sighing at the familiar sight. He stood on the other side of Audubon Bay, gazing at the glittering city. Unless Ammonia Pine was still around, ruling the city, it was not under any villain’s control. The sun would set in about an hour. It might have been soon for the two of them to be there, but they doubted they’d be spotted. The plant-duck turned to Liquidator. “Shall we go?”

The water dog gazed out at the city a moment longer, watching how the bay glinted in the sunlight. Then he turned to his companion. “Of course. We shouldn’t be a moment late for our company reunion!”

The pair of mutants walked across the hill. They were by the edge of the forest, where they could view the city, but only got a glimpse of the bridge. It had been five years since they’d last visited, but the place had hardly changed. Though, they didn’t get a look from the inside, so society could be corrupt and they’d never know.

Bushroot clutched the knapsack slung over his shoulder, making sure it was still there and safe. For extra assurance, he unclipped it and reached a leaf in, and when he felt his precious cargo in there, he sighed and withdrew his arm. He clipped the knapsack again and continued clutching the strap.

Liquidator looked at his friend, sensing his apprehension. He didn’t know what to say. Ironically enough, it felt like his throat went dry whenever they did this. He just put a wet hand on his companion’s back, hoping the physical assurance would be enough.

When they made it to their meeting point, the silence got thicker. Both of the men stopped in their tracks. Still feeling unsure about what to do. They stood there. The only sounds were those of the waves and breeze. Bushroot stared at the flowerbeds they were now next to. He finally moved, going to kneel by them. “I’m glad to see they’re all still here.” There were two collections of flowers. One was a patch of sunflower-like plants, though they were only six inches tall and the centers were dark yellow. They gave off a soft glow that could hardly be seen in the daylight. The other patch next to it had roses, each one splitting into two blossoms, one red and one purple. There were eight of each flower there.

“Indeed. With the trees behind us to shield them from weather, they have insurance from water damage,” Liquidator told him proudly. “Not to mention the nature of their defense allows them a one hundred percent no-picking guarantee!”

Bushroot took off the knapsack and set it next to him. “Well that wasn’t intentional when we designed them. Just convenient.” He reached into the knapsack and pulled out two seeds. One was a long, cylindrical one, almost resembling a battery. The other was a near-perfect sphere that had several bright colors on it. “Hey, Megavolt. Hey, Quackerjack. Hope you haven’t been bored while you were waiting,” he said, half-joking. He buried the battery seed with the sun-flower patch, and the sphere with the double roses. Liquidator knelt by him and set his hands on each newly-dug spot, and they lost form as he gave water to the seeds. Bushroot put his leaves over the other’s paws, giving life force to the flowers. Within a minute, the flowers poked out of the dirt, then grew upwards, then budded, then bloomed into full flowers. They mutants withdrew their hands, and moved to sit on the other side of the rose bed.

Liquidator stared at the flowers, his eyes soon trailing up to the stones behind each patch. They’d been made roughly, but were beautiful in a way. Moss was growing up the sides, the engraving having been worn by rain and time. “Time got your memorial stones filthy and faded?” he said, breaking the silence and making Bushroot start. “Try Liquidator cleaning services!” He carefully brushed his hands over the stones, taking away the dirt and moss. Then the stones read clearly:

HERE LIES MEGAVOLT. VILLAIN, LIBERATOR OF ELECTRIC APPLIANCES, COMPLETE LOON, LOYAL ALLY.

and:

HERE LIES QUACKERJACK. VILLAIN, MASTER OF TOY MAKING, CRACKED NUT, PASSIONATE ALLY.

When Bushroot and Liquidator had first carved them, they didn’t bother using their legal names. They’d chosen their villain personas, and had abandoned their old ways. They were going to let it stay that way. Bushroot sighed deeply, hugging his knees as he gazed at the city. They’d chosen this spot for the graves so they could look upon the city as if they owned it, from the top of a hill.

“You’d think by now, this would feel a little more real,” Bushroot mused.

Liquidator settled next to him, putting a watery arm around his shoulders. “I know what you mean,” he said, dropping his slogans considering the mood. “Everytime we’re here, I half expect them to be standing there, laughing at our shocked faces.”

Bushroot snickered at the thought. “They were always unhinged. Broken sense of humor for sure.” He might have a heart attack and a meltdown if that happened. But by Gaia, would he be glad if it did.

There was a long silence again, with just the four of them in and on the hill. It was just the same as five years ago today, and five years before that, and so on. On this day, every five years, they came to visit the city and their friends. It was the anniversary of their deaths. It brought both men to uncharacteristic solemnity. Every visit, they’d add a flower to each grave, watch the sunset, say their goodbyes again, and leave. They wouldn’t let anyone see them. It was supposed to be like that tonight. They were so focused on the sunset and trying to feel someone with them, they didn’t notice someone was with them. They heard no footsteps, no gasps, and no rustling. They only heard when a dusty, though spirited voice revealed itself, “Keen gear…”

The mutants turned at the sudden interruption, facing someone they didn’t expect. There was an elderly woman standing there, staring at them. She was tall, especially for her age. She was also in good shape, thin but not frail. She had wrinkled, yellow-brown feathers. Her hair was a mix of red and white, making it seem pink, and pulled back in a tight bun. Her emerald green eyes were that of a teenager, full of spirit and youth her body didn’t have. She wore a green blouse and purple cardigan. Her words and that look in her eyes were familiar to them. She recognized them, it was clear. But what did they expect? They were infamous supervillains. Of course she knew them.

“Stay back!” Bushroot said, standing and holding his hands out in a hollow threat. He wasn’t going to hit an old woman. Even before they gave up major crime, he wouldn’t have. “Did you follow us?”

The woman crossed her arms. “I was on a walk. Patrolling the perimeter in case I saw anything, you know?” she said, walking closer, clearly unfazed. She was definitely familiar. When the mutants looked her up and down, she huffed. “Now don’t tell me you two don’t remember me.” She pulled her arms back, one drawn farther like she was holding a taut string. “I am the hero who gives the crooks the shaft!”

The two criminals stared at her in disbelief. It makes you feel old when a wrinkled, white-haired person is so much younger than you. “Quiverwing Quack!” Liquidator said, earning a nod and finger-guns from the other. “It has been decades since our last exchange. How fairs yourself and the city?”

Quiverwing sighed, gazing out at St. Canard, which the sun was setting over now. “I’ve been well. It’s still never boring around here, that’s for sure. You wouldn’t believe some of these new super criminals,” she said, as if she were catching up with old friends. “But it’s not under the rule of a psychotic villain.”

Bushroot and Liquidator knew what she was referring to instantly. Negaduck’s last attempt to take over the world, the same day their teammates had kicked the bucket. Bushroot shuddered at that, finally letting his guard down. If he knew Quiverwing, she would still take them down. But she didn’t seem to want that. “The Liquidator inquires: what other criminals have taken up the business?”

Quiver sat on the other side of Megavolt’s grave. “Oh, let me think. There’s Encore, she’s a singer and a thief. Kindle, some chick with a fiery personality. Dickie, a tech-savvy gold digger. Pinceau, who I think is Splatter Phoenix’s son. And Druvish, who’s really just never growing out of his goth phase.”

“Like your father?” Bushroot joked. It had been revealed years ago that Quiverwing and Darkwing were kin, though nobody had learned their names. “How is he?”

Quiverwing looked down at the bay. “Oh, he…”

Bushroot stared, waiting for her to finish, before realizing she wouldn’t. He was completely unprepared for the pang that hit him. Sure, he hated Darkwing Duck, and wanted to kill him, but he was also a prominent person in his life. Despite having been cut off from Darkwing for years, it saddened him to learn this. “I am so sorry,” he said, wishing that could begin to cut it. “I am so terribly sorry.”

Quiver shook her head. “Hey, don’t be sorry! I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did, really. With all the injuries he took, the doctors said he wouldn’t make it to sixty. He only passed seven years ago.”

That would make him.. Bushroot didn’t know. He’d lost track of years. Liquidator seemed to have a better time putting it together. “If we would have known, we would have visited the last time we were in the vicinity, and offered our condolences.”

Quiver waved a hand. “Don’t bother with pity. We’re all fine, really. Besides, if you showed your faces in there-” she put a hand out towards St. Canard, “You’d be arrested big time.” She sighed, folding her arms around her knees. “I miss him. So much. But at least he went out peacefully, in his sleep. But I imagine he was dreaming that he saved St. Canard. He was too stubborn to go out any other way.”

“That he was,” Liquidator declared. “Conceded, egotistical, stubborn, and devoted. Qualities like this are exactly what employers look for in a huge thorn in our sides.”

Bushroot glared at him. “Don’t talk like that about the deceased. It’s rude!”

Quiver shrugged. “The worst that could happen is he gets all puffy about not having an ego.”

Bushroot raised an eyebrow at the woman. She was calmer, but her eyes held that lively spirit. Maybe all these years had made her grow wise, after all it had been... How long? The plant-duck counted all his plants on the graves, and there were nine, times five- That meant it had been forty-five years since that fateful day. Gosh, that was insane to think about.

“You haven’t aged a day,” Quiverwing suddenly pointed out, facing the mutants. “How is that?”

Liquidator put up a hand. “Allow me to explain. Thanks to our transformations all those years ago, we have new abilities. Not only does this give us an original and bold appearance and powers, but it gives us immortality! We cannot be permanently wounded, nor can we age.”

Quiverwing looked shocked, and her face morphed. First, she looked bewildered. Then she seemed impressed. But her face suddenly dropped in pity. “How have you been spending your time? Not getting into too much trouble, I hope.”

Bushroot shook his head. “No. We’ve been traveling. By land and by sea, exploring nature's greatest wonders.” That wasn’t what he would have expected his retirement plan to look like. But as long as he still had one of his friends by him, he was ready for anything. He’d appreciated being able to see the beauty left in this world. It reminded him a little what Reginald Bushroot was like before he mutated. “What about you?” he asked, “I don’t suppose you’re still giving crooks the shaft?”

She laughed a bit. “I wished, but I’m getting older. I retired a couple decades ago. If I want to be of any use to the city, I’d better stay in one piece.”

“How old are you?” Liquidator asked. “You hardly look to be fifty! But you weren’t a little kid last we saw you.”

Quiver laughed at him. “Flattery won’t get anywhere with me.”

“It’s true,” Bushroot said, shrugging.

Rolling her eyes, the duck replied. “I’m seventy-one. I may not have mutant abilities, but galavanting around the city, fighting criminals keeps you healthy. And as much as I hate saying it, dad was right about vegetables.”

“If you’ve given up the mantle of protecting the city, the Liquidator inquires: Who is the new St. Canardian Guardian?” the ewater mutant asked.

Quiver shut her beak, looking them up and down, as if she was having second thoughts on trusting them. She finally took a breath and spoke. “I hate to remind you of that day. But do you remember the little boy Quackerjack saved?”

Bushroot felt all the chlorophyll drop from his face at the memory. “The kid Negaduck tried to kill?”

Nodding, Quiver continued. “That was my little boy, my firstborn, my only son. I wish I could repay the clown for what he did…” She stared down at the purple and red roses which Bushroot and Liquidator sat by. “He’s the new masked mallard. It’s been so long, even his girls are ready to take up the family business.”

Liquidator and Bushroot stared at her. Gosh, they’d missed out on so much. So much time and so many events had taken place. It was a shame they couldn’t set foot in the city.

There was a long silence as the sun dipped into the horizon. It wasn’t broken until Quiver gave up on restraining her curiosity. “What kinds of flowers are these?” she asked, stroking the petal of a flowing yellow flower. The ones on Megavolt’s grave illuminated the place with a bright yellow glow, like hundreds of lightning bugs in one place. “They don’t look natural.”

“They’re not,” Bushroot told her. “I designed these a long time ago. With Megavolt and Quackerjack, actually.” He stroked the leaves of a double-budded rose. “The ones you’re next to are Helianthus vivfulgur. The ones right here are called Rosa veneniocus.”

Quiverwing chuckled a bit. “These are definitely flowers they made. What? Will the roses squirt water if I smell them?”

Liquidator shook his head. “Quackerjack Brand Roses do not spray normal water, but a poison that can also be found in their thorns.”

Quiver snickered at that, completely unsurprised. “That sounds about right.” Once there was no more sunlight, and the moon and sunflowers were the only light, Quiver stood up. “I should be going home before the kids wonder where I am.”

The mutants frowned, feeling an unexpected sadness. They couldn’t return to the city. And they couldn’t stay here long. They had to move on as usual. “Wait,” Bushroot said, standing up. “We’re not going to see you again, are we?” he asked.

Quiverwing clamped her beak shut, her emerald eyes shining. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I might still be here in five years, but I doubt I’ll be able to meet you here.” It hurt to leave them. They were her sworn enemies, but there was no hatred in her heart for them. They’d fought since she was nine, through her teenage years, until she was in her mid twenties. Sure, she’d gone longer without them, but the Fearsome Four had played a huge part in her origin and rise as a heroine. She sighed, walking back to the grave of roses. She knelt by Quackerjack’s grave and gave a watery smile. “Thank you, Jackie. You saved my baby, and all of St. Canard. You lived a villain but died a hero.” She moved to Megavolt’s grave. “Elmo, whether you like it or not, you made Darkwing Duck, and gave this city a hero, a whole line of heroes. Thank you for the memories.”

She stood up and faced the mutants. Bushroot was holding the knapsack, and holding Liquidator’s hand. They were ready to leave again. “Reggie, you gave me a new view on criminals. You may be crazy, but you have compassion and kindness in your heart. You even saved our world. I hope you’re able to do something good. And Bud, I’m sorry for how my father created you. I’m glad you embraced it. Try to put that to good use, huh?”

“Farewell, Quiverwing,” Bushroot said, putting out a leaf to shake, but he pulled it back. “Can- Can I hug you?” The old duck nodded, pulling him into an embrace, as if they had been friends all these years.

“It’s Gosalyn,” she told him, unafraid. She pulled away from Bushroot, and he saw tear streaks on her cheeks.

Liquidator gave her a quick hug as well. “Take care, then, Gosalyn. Until next time, should we be fortunate enough to schedule another meeting.”

Gosalyn nodded, stepping back. “Take care and don’t kill anyone.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Bushroot said, nodding as he turned away. Liquidator waved as he also turned and walked away with Bushroot.

Gosalyn walked for a bit before she turned around to see their figures dip behind the hill, tears dripping down her face. It relieved her to make amends that her dear dad couldn’t. She wouldn’t be taking any hostility to the grave.

So she continued walking, going back to her home and seeing her son and granddaughters, still in costume after a crime bust.

Bushroot and Liquidator left the city and disappeared from the radar again, prepared to spend eternity with one another.

He knew enough about chemicals to make his competitors taste really bad, but didn’t intend harm. The toxic vat was because the whole thing got dumped. My point is he has a degree in business and in chemistry.

He is actually immortal. Closest thing you’ll get to killing him is capturing bits of him in different water-proof bottles and scattering them around the globe.

Liquidator is the only sane member of the Fearsome Four.

He also is the only one not struggling with mental health.

Bud keeps the team grounded. If it weren’t for him, the others would self-destruct.

You can’t tell me this man doesn’t have a family he left behind at some point before becoming Liquidator.

Bisexual KING.

He doesn’t mind physical touch. He’ll let QJ be all over him and affectionate and have no problem.

He will not, however, go touching people a ton. He normally puts his arm around them at the most.

People say he can’t hold his physical form while asleep, so he sleeps in random containers. I like to think he sleeps in Quackware (the stuff Herb Muddlefoot sells), Bushroot’s watering can, a tub the F4 dragged from the dumb (ya know, instead of the couch), bowls, or just a puddle in the corner of the room.

When he’s angry, he starts boiling.

When he’s sad, he gets all icy.

QuackerJack likes him because he’s so flexible and tolerant.

LiquiJack, or WaterPlay, is a left-brain/right-brain ship.

Megavolt likes him because opposites attract; Bud remembers everything he forgets.

Liquivolt is the left-brain ship.

Bushroot likes him because he’s sweet to him and has the confidence he never will.

Liquiroot, or FloodedForest, is a right-brain/left-brain ship.

In high school, he was super popular for being extroverted and had a way with words.