#listofevilinventions

{ ☆ } ❝  Uh- Yeah... Pinky. Promise.  ❞  Fenton firmly repeats, pointing a finger at his still-extended pinky to emphasize each word. Hand going to rest on his hip, brows are furrowed and beak is cutely-scrunched in slight annoyance at the other’s confusion. It’s pretty straight-forward, actually... You hook pinkies and make a promise. Easy-peasy, not-gonna-be-abandoned-yet-again-hopefully. What’s so surprising about that? 

And why is his pinky still not promised upon?

❝  No. Of course not, Gearsy...  ❞  He retorts, aghast at the accusation as arms cross in front of himself with an audible huff. Feathers ruffled with unease, he quirks a brow and explains,  ❝  But I AM gonna be loud and obnoxious and ME...  ❞  There’s no point in denying it. They both know what they’re getting into. And if for some inconceivable reason Gyro didn’t, well... he probably should.  ❝  And people tend to leave when I’m loud and obnoxious—  ❞  Counting it out on his fingers, they outstretch on one hand as his pointer finger pokes at them as each trait is listed, faltering much like his voice as he winces and adds-  ❝  —and... me.  ❞  

Gaze averted, hands clasp behind his back as a foot lightly kicks at the ground.  ❝  I just... Yeah, I know it’s stupid. But I- I like promises, okay?  ❞  Even though he’s aware that they don’t ACTUALLY have any way of enforcing things. That in the end, words are fragile and pointless things that can be broken without the slightest difficulty. But still... call it delusional, call it denial, call it anything you want. Fenton feels... safer, being promised something. Perhaps because no one’s ever really seen fit to give him one before. Most just get weirded out by his request.

Kinda like Gyro just did.

It's been a while since Louie had seen Gyro. In fact, he thinks that he hasn't seen him since the whole dime incident. He could be wrong, but his memory was shot besides that moment, which was tramatic, so there was no forgetting about that any time soon. The money bin was a bit destroyed, but the lab stayed standing. That's where Louie was headed. He was somewhat interested, but Scrooge also gave him a job. He trusted him enough, oddly, to go, and check out Gyro's new inventions, judge them, and then decide on a good price for the invention. Louie was good at conning, and being cheap, so it would sort of make sense for him to be told to do this type of thing.

The duckling made his way to the lab, adjusting his green tuxedo that he previously wore to Doofus Drake's house. It was still in good condition, and made him look more professional, so why not? Hands behind his back, he smiled as he raised a fist up to knock on the door gently. There was no answer at first, so he had decided to knock, again. "It's Scrooge McDuck's very rich nephew here to check up on everything, Gyro!" He still wasn't letting that go, and he was confident in what he was doing. He's still a kid, afterall, so you can't blame him.

     “Yes,” she answered, although she appeared to take a moment to think of an explanation for wanting to be lifted. But think of one she did, and Webby’s hands stretched out to him instead of upward. Tiny hands holding his beak, she kissed the top of said beak.

Gyro kisses Fenton on the forehead " Lo .Siento. "

- ✩ { @listofevilinventions​ } ✩

{ ☆ } To say that things have been... tense lately would be an understatement. A horrendous one, all things considered. Not that many would realize, what with the performance Fenton has been putting on. A constant mask FIRMLY secured over his face, even more prominent than the shielding visor he often dons. One of understanding and patience and compassion... Not false, of course. Not by a long shot. But still misleading nonetheless; veiling the uncertainty and frustration and HURT that lingered beneath what he felt- what he wanted to feel.

It’d be so much easier if the mask was the complete truth, rather than merely a portion of it.