Power Play
Chapter 2: Toil and Trouble
By perper
Quackerjack couldn't remember the last time that he had been in civilian clothing, and he wasn't enjoying it; the jeans and wifebeater- he'd refused to remove the mask- didn't do a thing for him. Then again, he wasn't about to destroy his jester outfit in this mess. Negaduck had assigned him the meaningless task of sorting and repairing a weapon stockpile so massive Quackerjack was sure that there would be a UN investigation sooner or later.
Despite the horrifying knowledge of how many different ways he could die that day, Quackerjack was kind of happy that he was making some headway. Another day and he might finish. And at least Negaduck wasn't…At that very moment the terrorizing mallard strolled in and looked around.
'Speak of the devil!' Quackerjack hid a his resentment as best as he could.
"Mmm-hmmm…" Negaduck took his time looking around and, therefore, making Quackerjack all the more apprehensive. Eventually he stopped, picked up a cross-bow, and deliberately broke it. Afterwards, he kicked at some neatly organized weaponry and then, putting his hand on Quackerjack's shoulder, said, "Looks like you won't be done too soon." Quackerjack wilted as Negaduck exited with a satisfied smirk.
"That'll keep that joker busy." Negaduck's beak fell into a scowl; slightly disturbed by his own preoccupation with the other powerless member of his team and then disturbed for being disturbed.
- - - - - - - - - -
Topheth sat on a crate; depressed. A pair of furry, charcoal gray hands slid across his shoulders and around his neck. "I heard you had a bad day," Purred the female cat that stood behind him. She rubbed their cheeks together; her whiskers tickling his muzzle. Slinking around in front of him, she sat down on his lap. "There was this guy," Topheth ran his fingers though her mid-length, navy hair, "He hit me with a wrench."
"A wrench?"
"Yeah. After the water."
"Poor sweetie."
"Get. A. Room." They were joined by a brown canine mutt. Though nicely built, he was small compared to Topheth, but then again, who wasn't? "Okay," he began, "I'll need both of you soon. I've already started gathering some of our kind. I knew that St. Canard was a hot spot for the supers but I had no idea that there were so many here. The numbers seem to be growing too."
"Don't forget Duckberg. They have an interesting- albeit small- super community. Also, I already sent out a mutated virus into the city. Most of those with inferior DNA will fair badly." The cat purred.
"I've noticed. Good work, Plague. As for your earlier experience, Topheth, I'm starting to believe that some of the weaklings and non-supers have had to learn to deal with the supers here. I'm sure against more than one of us, he would fail."
Topheth still looked rather downhearted. The dog gazed at him with a glassy stare for a moment. "Apollo! You said you wouldn't use that on us!" Plague wrapped her arms around Topheth's head and pulled his face to look at hers. "You'll get him, baby." She was a more effective encouragement.
"Whatever. Anyway, make sure you're ready. We have to persuade a few misguided ones toward our cause," Apollo paused. "Do you hear it? The shackles are breaking…"
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"It's hard for me to even be here! Gos is sick and poor LP needs a break!" Darkwing was failing in an attempt to be understanding. "Of course you'd try to guilt trip me on this!" So was Morgana.
Watching from a distance was an odd-looking grey duck. He was tall, gaunt- almost a dead appearance, really- and had short, sleek locks of jet-black hair. He wore a white lab coat and complimentary black gloves. All of this wasn't what gave him an air of peculiarity though. It was the fact that he was perpetually smiling. Not just any smile but a smile that said he was plotting, satisfied, and generally knew all sorts of things that you didn't. "Now, now…" he calmly made a mock attempt at calming the quarrelling lovers.
"You stay out of this, Tybalt!" Morgana snapped. "Dark, you've been too busy for me for a long time. Gosalyn getting sick is just a convenient excuse. You're married to crime-fighting; I'm just your mistress!"
"What do you want me to do?" Dark had meant the question to be rhetorical. Morgana; however, answered, "Make a choice."
"What!"
"The crime-fighting goes or I go."
"No. I'm not choosing. That's not fair, Morg!"
"Fine. I'll choose for you. We're through."
Darkwing didn't know what to do. Everything began to blur and all he could see was Morgana pointing at the door with her face turned away in disgust. She didn't even seem to be crying. He made a move to plead with her but she smacked him and ran from the room.
As Darkwing left, he felt a certain chill running through him. Was it just him or had the smile on Tybalt's face grown bigger?
- - - - - - - - - -
"Finished? Well aren't we a hard worker." Negaduck was feeling better and, according to the laws of nature, everyone else was going to feel horrible. "Hmmmm….I think my attack dogs need a walk, I need some shopping done, and you can help Megavolt fix the mess you made." Quackerjack gritted his teeth, visibly. "Ah ah ah, we wouldn't want any of our friends to be hurt, would we?" Negaduck held up the confiscated Mr. Bananabrain and a pair of scissors. Quackerjack went back to looking pitiful and scuttled off to do the work.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"Dad, are you okay?"
Which was harder, managing a city and a disgruntled girlfriend or managing a city and a broken heart?
To Be Continued…
Perper says: A big thank you goes out to my reviewers and all those who patiently waited for this. Sorry about the wait. As for Gosalyn, she won't be getting better for a while and I haven't decided her fate yet. It'll all play together, I promise. In other news, I hate introducing my characters. It's annoying to write but I hope you enjoy reading it. I complain because I'm not exactly skilled at it. If you have any suggestions or ideas, I'd love to hear it. Thanks.