The city of St. Canard never slept, and partly due to the simple fact that it was a magnet for high levels of criminal activity. The criminals were everything from run-of-the-mill thieves to costumed, elaborate spectacles of entertaining, murdering psychopaths. Things never seemed to change here, it had been run this way for at least twenty years, and no matter what came and went, no matter what promises politicians made to clean up the city, it always fell through, and things remained on the decline.
You either beat it, or join it. Nobody had beaten it yet.
The Scapelli family decided long ago that it wasn't going to lie in the muck, it would rise above it, even through the dirtiest of means. Tony 'Trigger' Scapelli was patriarch and business man of the seedy underbelly of St. Canard. He ran the casinos, clubs- laundered money and filtered it through legitimate businesses. Though even if anyone came close to doing something about it, change didn't come easily within the city. Even the police had trouble keeping loyal cops on the payroll. It was so much easier to just turn your head and look away.
With a name like Scapelli, she had a lot to live up to. She thought about how much her father had supported the city, when the mayor watched it crumble away and did nothing. Her father gave people jobs, breathed life back into businesses. Sure, his ways weren't always the most tactful, but he was always honest. He was a better man than most she had met in her life. He was truthful about who he was and what he did, and how he did it. He owned up to his sins.
But that didn't make him a good person. That didn't make him a hero. That didn't make him right.
What did that make her?
She was just supplying people with ways to protect themselves, right? What they did with what she sold them was their business. She didn't put a gun into anyone's hand and force them to shoot it. It wasn't anything personal. Why did she have to feel badly about the actions of others? She didn't. She wouldn't. She made weapons because she liked inventing them. Why shouldn't she make money off of what she was good at?
"Boss. You got a visitor."
The woman sat up in her seat, eyes lazily flickering over her glasses towards the door, where one of her bouncers stood. Her nose scrunched up, and she waved a hand through the air.
"Put that cigar out, it stinks. Who's smoking?"
"That'd be me."
The voice that came crawling towards her from the doorway was enough to make her skin crawl. It just oozed malice to the core. She sat up straighter then, squinting into the dim hallway, and out from the bouncer's side squeezed a very familiar looking duck, a large brimmed hat and dramatic looking cape adorning him.
She instantly went pale, swallowing, and he strode up to her table, sinking down into a chair, dark eyes on her and making her feel as though one false movement might end up in a lost limb.
"Negaduck." A small twitch of a nervous smile spread over her mouth, and it was gone as quickly as it came. She drummed her fingers on the table before clasping them tightly together. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
His grin was much wider, seeing how she squirmed in her seat, and he leaned forward. "Glad you know who you're talking to, kid. I came to you for a specific reason, and you being aware of my line of work is crucial to what I want from you."
She gave a sharp nod to show she was listening, but all she could hear was the sound of the light buzzing above her. Boy, was it ever hot in here. He apparently brought hell with him when he walked in.
"I need you to build me something that'll blow this city off the map in a permanent sort of way. And I want Darkwing to go with it."
Darkwing, now there was a name that struck a chord. He was a persistent fella, always poking his beak where it didn't belong. Why couldn't he just go along with the program like everyone else? A lot of people thought his whole charade of dressing up and parading around the city only added to the growing chaos, as if his actions encouraged other costumed freaks to emerge. Maybe they had a point, but then again, maybe they just had a lot of wackos living here. With her sales in weaponry, she believed it.
"Alright, you have anything speci-" She started, but he held up a hand to cut her off abruptly.
"I came to you because you're supposedly the 'best'." He made quotations at her, raising a brow mockingly, "I don't know whether you really are that good, but even if you ain't, you will be." Negaduck stood then, circling over to her. "Because whatever you give me, IS gonna be the best. It'll blow the city sky high, and if it DOESN'T..." He grabbed her chair, yanking it back and peering into her frozen features. "I'll blow YOU sky high. You got that, kid?"
She forgot how to breathe for a moment before nodding. "So. So you're good with anything then, is that...is that what I'm hearing?"
"You make something worthy of my name, or-"
"Or you blow me sky high, that part I did hear, yeah."
"Oh good, I thought I'd have to repeat myself again." He let the back of the chair go, and her along with it, sending it crashing back to the floor.
She groaned as she felt the heavy thud of a headache forming where her skull landed against the floor, and she blinked up at the ceiling, hearing his footsteps against the creaking floorboards.
"You got two weeks."
"T-TWO?!" She sat up so quickly, it only added to her swimming head pain. "You gave me enough time to blink, is that it?! This kinda thing takes time, man, you can't rush perfection!"
"Who's asking for perfection? How hard is it to give me something that'll wipe out a city. Maybe I made a mistake coming here, to some hack who ain't even worthy of the name her daddy gave her."
She pushed herself to her feet, dusting herself off. "I'm a lot of things, but don't you ever say I'm a hack. I'm more than just my father's daughter. I don't need his name to prove myself."
"Yet you fling it around when it's useful, am I right? 'Course I'm right. You use his reputation."
"I'm good at what I do." She reiterated, her eyes blazing with anger.
Negaduck looked unimpressed, giving her a shrug as he flicked his cigar to the floor, stuffing a hand into the pocket of his coat. "Then prove it." He didn't await her answer, if there was one, and left her there. It seemed more of a threat than a challenge.
She glared at the spot he had stood in for a little longer before retrieving her chair, setting it up to plop back down into it tiredly.
"Great, now it reeks in here."
One week had practically flown by, she might as well have been waiting for the countdown to her execution. He hadn't specified anything specific and yet had managed to ask so much of her. She needed more time, that was a definite. The rest she could pull off maybe, somehow. She'd think about it later, with all the time she'd have, because Negaduck surely would see some kind of logic and reasoning to her request.
She stood outside of a large warehouse close to Audubon Bay, which wasn't suspicious simply because there were so many abandoned facilities in the area. She hoped she'd knocked on the right one at least.
"WHOOOOO'S THEEEEEEERE?!"
Maybe she should recant that.
"Uhhh." She stared up at the metal siding. "It's a pizza delivery. Someone in there ordered a triple cheese with mushrooms."
"OOH, DID THEY?! Wait, no one asked me what topping I wanted! I can't believe you guys!" There was a loud whine. Then a very large door slid open, revealing a loudly dressed individual.
"...Hey! You don't have any pizza!"
"It's true, I'm a sham, I'm afraid. I'm here to see your boss, Negaduck."
"Pffft! He's not our boss." The large duck waved it off, as if it was the most offensive thing anyone had ever said to him. "Not mine, anyway. We just let him pretend, to stroke his big ego." The duck was all colors and teeth, and taller than most people. It was a little intimidating, to stare down a grown man dressed as a clown with no qualms about it whatsoever. He was a child's nightmare!
"Soooo, I didn't get your actual name, lady. Negsy's gonna wanna know who came to see him, y'know."
She nearly spat a laugh, forcing herself to hold back. "He lets you call him that?"
"It's better than Lemon-Drop. That one earned me a black eye once!"
She finally relented, "Fine, since you're the self appointed receptionist. Tell him Ellie Scapelli is here, with blueprints, for his new toy."
"TOY?!" He reeled back, placing a hand to his chest, mortified. "He hired a toymaker?! The NERVE! If he wanted a new toy, all he had to do was ask me! I've never even heard of you! What kind of toys could you possibly make, huh, those brain-numbing discs that Whiffle-Barf puts out, gluing kids to their televisions all day!?"
She looked on in confusion, "Hey now, I'm not a TOYMAKER, it was just bad wording on my part! I'm a weapons specialist, I make and deal weapons for the black market. Didn't mean to upset you or anything, geez."
The jester looked pacified, but only slightly, eyes narrowed suspiciously before he upturned his large bill at her. "Upset? Moi? HAH! Hardly. Even if you did make toys, yours would pale in comparison to mine! There wouldn't be a reason for me to even be concerned, I'm the best there is!"
"Right, sure. And you are?"
"QUACKERJACK!" He yelled out, stomping a foot in frustration, which didn't serve as menacingly as he'd wanted it to, accompanied by a jingling sound from the bells he wore. "...You owned a toy of mine, surely?"
"Well. I'm sure I did." She grinned at him in a placating manner, but he wasn't buying it, sulking more. "I don't remember every toy I ever owned, buddy, and I had a gun in my hand by the time I was four. Not really the most colorful of childhoods."
"You kids and your guns." He scowled, turning to hop away from her. "All you brats want to do is shoot things! This is why everything's so topsy-turvy now!" He grabbed the ends of his hat, yanking them, and she took her cue to walk in, sliding the door closed.
"Right, yeah, it's us kids with our guns, not Bozo the Clown antics or megalomaniacs." She looked around as she spoke, noting the piles of electronics in the corner, a few old chairs and a mini fridge. The rest of the spacious area was dark and dipped into other rooms she guessed were just as large and vacant. "Not much for decoration, is he?"
"This isn't his place. This is just a temporary hideout. Changes every week!" Quackerjack flapped a hand at her. "Annnnnd, he's not here, also."
"...What do you mean he isn't here? That's why I'M here. You mean to tell me he went out?"
"Uh yeah. He went out like a half hour ago. Or an hour ago. Or a day ago. I didn't really pay attention to when he left, but he's definitely not back yet."
"Where did he go?!" She threw down her papers onto the table, a scowl forming. "I mean he's the one that commissioned this, and he doesn't even have the decency to give me half a second?"
"Thaaaaat's good ol' Negsy for ya!~" Quackerjack grinned at her, and plopped down on one of the chairs, kicking his legs over the side of it.
"So what am I supposed to do, WAIT here, like some dog?"
Quackerjack eyed her with a growing grin. "You could hang out with meeeee!~ You ARE a dog though, too, aren't you?"
She fixed him with an irritated look, "I'm real tired of the stereotyping dogs get, you know we aren't that patient and loyal, that's a load of crock. And what if I don't want to wait around with you? Maybe I have things to do."
"Maybe you and I could play a game." He waggled his brows at her, and she looked horrified. "Not that kind of game, you sicko! This is a G-rated warehouse! Don't even flatter yourself, you're young enough to be my sister!"
"That doesn't even make sense, you can have sisters that are like one year younger, you realize that?"
"You're like a lot of one years put together though."
"...This is my cue to leave, I'm thinking. Tell Negaduck I stopped by, there's the blueprints, leaving them there. He just has to approve them, also tell him I maaaaay need another week. You got all that, Quackers?"
He blew a loud raspberry at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Some henchman YOU are!"
"Hey, they don't just let ANYONE into the Fearsome Five, y'know! You have to be a really top tier villain!"
"And what are you, like, number forty-nine on the list? He couldn't get anyone else stupid or crazy enough to join, you just happened to be one of the few?"
"You're a rude little person, you know that?! The nerve!" The crazed mallard yanked a banana shaped doll from his pocket and waved it around, putting on a silly voice. "'You don't even know who you're messin' with, Quackerjack's games have put people into the hospital, you know! He's a very competitive fella, Bella!~'"
"My name isn't Bella."
"'See if I give a hoot, Scoot!'"
"Alright, I'm done, I'm not talking to a banana. I was here, I did my part, I dragged my butt across town, he's just gonna have to deal with it, I got stuff to d-" Ellie swung around towards the door, slamming into something that gave her a rather painful shock. She jumped back with a yelp, her nerves on fire, and it took a moment for her to wonder what in the heck had just happened. There wasn't any carpeting in here, had she walked across a live wire or something? She shook herself out of the jolt, staring up at none other than the notorious Megavolt, which everyone knew because he was utterly insane, and he also continuously caused power problems throughout the city. So even when he wasn't being an electronics hoarding psychopath, he was just an inconvenience at the worst of times.
"Hey, watch it lady! Just what do you think you're doing here?" The rat snapped down at her irritably, before his sneer turned into a crooked grin. "Nice hair-do."
She frowned, glancing upwards at her hair, reaching up self consciously before feeling the static clinging to every strand, and Quackerjack howled with laughter from his spot. "Oh shut up!" She yelled over at him, trying to smooth down her locks in vain, face going scarlet. "Well, thanks for that. I was gonna go out today, but now I'll just settle for dunking my head in the bay."
"You might be better off just leaving it, do you even know what they pour into that water?" Megavolt stepped out of her way, snickering.
"Are you saying they're dumping chemicals into the bay? I'm shocked! How could this happen?" She replied with dramatics, before scowling, "I might as well become radioactive, I threw some papers into a warehouse in hopes that Negaduck will ever come back and see them, and I won't be anywhere close to being done with what he wants in another week! I might as well just end it here, he'll strangle me."
"He wouldn't strangle you." Quackerjack soothed, bouncing over. "Maim...break...burn...twist...crush...flatten...-"
"Unpleasant things, yes, we can surmise whatever he DOES do, it won't tickle."
"Seeeee? You should've hung out with me, MY activities could involve tickling!"
"Coming from you, a fate worse than death. Now if you'll exc- is he stroking that toaster?" She pointed to Megavolt, who was hunched over the pile of electronics in the corner, and he only clutched the item closer to himself.
"Mind your own business, lady! Geez, a guy can't have a moment alone?!"
"You can't be alone in a room with two other people in it."
"That's true, although, it's three other people, you so rudely forgot Mr. Banana Brain."
"The only thing I wanted to really forget about today, yes." Ellie raked her hands through her hair in vain, "Whoever's the least crazy out of the two of you, please inform Negaduck that I was here, and please tell him he can reach me by the number I wrote on the blueprint. Okay? Goodbye. Hopefully, I won't be back." She gave them a salute, and started on her way back to the door, hefting it open.
"What were we supposed to say?" Megavolt replied, squinting distractedly into the toaster.
"Beats me, I wasn't listening!" Quackerjack began to laugh obnoxiously then, as Ellie pulled a water bottle from her car outside, dumping the contents over herself.