Repository: Darkwing Duck

Chapter 7: Technically Not, Technically Am (Conversations On An Off Day)

The Fearsome Five were having an off day. Negaduck had gone off to wherever he disappeared when they were between capers, so the other four had decided to relax in Megavolt's apartment. Quackerjack had voted for the lighthouse, but apparently the list of people Megavolt would let step foot in there was rather short and didn't include a certain water-based villain, so the apartment it was.

Bushroot's thin form was balanced on the narrow windowsill, getting whatever sunlight he could in the gloomy part of the city Megavolt sometimes called home, one leaf absentmindedly trailing through the water in the large fishtank on the floor beside him. Liquidator, meanwhile, was trying to pretend his current puddle-like state was just him taking the concept of relaxing seriously and was not due in the slightest to the soothing hand running through his form.

Megavolt had locked himself in the bedroom, which he used as a space to work rather than sleep, and thus was unavailable to distract Quackerjack. Luckily for all of them, the hyperactive toymaker was in one of his rare calm moods and was quietly laying on the couch, idly working on a half-finished toy.

So the day ticked on, the four teammates quiet and each relaxing in his own way. As afternoon hit and notions of maybe getting up to eat were starting to form in some of their minds, a peculiar thought occured to Quackerjack. He sat up on the couch, setting his toy aside, and squinted at Liquidator.

"Hey, Likky?" The jester waited for Liquidator to gurgle in acknowledgment that he'd spoken before continuing, "Are you still a guy?"

"W-w-what?" In his surprise, Liquidator didn't bother to try spinning his words to salesmanese, so his stammer was free to make itself known. His head reformed and lifted partially out of the fishtank just to blink at Quackerjack. "E-excuse me?"

"Ya know, 'cause you're all melty now?" Quackerjack waved his hands to gesture at Liquidator's general form. "You don't really have any guy parts anymore, you don't even have hormones or anything..."

"Yeah, an-and?" Liquidator gurgled, still looking confused. Bushroot was staring at Quackerjack in interest, his leaf raising out of the fishtank.

"And what does that make ya?" Quackerjack exclaimed, sounding mildly frustrated. "Are you still a guy? Or are you a 'they'? Or an 'it'? Or..?"

"I..." Liquidator paused, as if he'd never given it much thought before. After a moment, he simply said "Guy." and sank back into his fishtank. Surprisingly, he was a dog of few words when he wasn't particularly excited or angry.

Though it hadn't been cleared up as much as he would've liked, Quackerjack accepted that the matter had been settled, and so went back to his toy. Mr Banana Brain, however, still had something to say.

"What about Melonhead, Fred?"

"What about him, Mr Banana Brain?" Quackerjack asked, though for a moment he considered not doing so. He was in one of his saner states, and the part of him that knew he was talking to himself and that such behavior wasn't exactly healthy was much louder than usual.

Quackerjack's saner states were dangerous things. It was in such a state that he had manipulated a king into making him his advisor, that he had sent Darkwing into such a depression that he quit being a superhero, that he remembered his toys weren't fun playthings meant for children but weapons meant for revenge.

This particular time, however, was different. There were no designs to be finished, no Whiffleboy conventions to destroy, nothing that had particularly annoyed or interested him. He would've come up with a scheme eventually, but Bushbrain had suggested they spend an off day together, and now here they were. Which left his brilliant, almost-but-not-quite sane mind to think about things not related to revenge nor playtime (one and the same in most cases).

Which was how he found himself asking, through Mr Banana Brain, "Aren't plants sexless? Where does that leave Fertilizerbreath, Beth?"

"Not all plants, just some." Bushroot answered from the windowsill, not looking at the two of them him. "And I, uh, I technically do have... What I mean to say is, the plants I absorbed had, they had..." He sighed, sounding a bit embarrassed, "My biological sex is a little complicated now, is the short version. But I've been a guy all my life, and I'm not exactly not a guy, so can we just leave it at that? Please?"

"'Course, Bushy. Didn' mean to make ya uncomfortable." Quackerjack shrugged, going to work on his toy again. It was supposed to be a spinning top with several hidden razor blades, but the release mechanism kept getting stuck and chipped the wood almost every time it did work properly, and he was seriously considering feeding it to his mechanical teeth when he got home. While digging a small screwdriver into it, he absently added, "I'm a guy too, case you were wondering."

"I wasn't." Bushroot shrugged, still looking out the window. His leaf was back in Liquidator's tank. "But good to know, I guess."

"Hmm." Quackerjack hummed. He exclaimed in delight as his toy finally worked, only to pout when it then decided to not close back up again. Damn thing.

"YaaaAAAaaah..." Megavolt yawned as he exited his bedroom workshop. None of them knew quite what he had been working on, but his 'lazy day' dress was stained with machine oil and his hair was sticking up as if he'd been shocked at least a few times, so they could make a reasonable guess that Darkwing wouldn't like it. He plopped onto the couch with a self-satisfied smile, his legs propped up on the arm of the couch and his head leaning against Quackerjack. "Hey Quackie. Wat'cha working on?"

"A spinning top." Quackerjack grumbled, scowling at his increasingly rebellious toy. He turned to Megavolt, as if just realizing he was there, and smiled. It wasn't one of his trademark Supervillain smiles, but it was still fairly wide. "Megsy! Finally decided to come out and play with the rest of us, huh?"

"I doubt there's been much playing going on out here; nothing's on fire." Megavolt snorted. "Hmmm. You know, Bushy, this was actually a pretty good idea. I wouldn't want to go too long without working on liberating my electric brethren, but maybe we should do this again sometime. It was nice."

"I'd be up for it again." Bushroot answered happily, finally climbing out of the window as the sun went entirely out of view behind the surrounding buildings. He stretched, more out of habit than anything else considering he no longer had joints or muscles to grow stiff, and frowned at Quackerjack. "Of course, I doubt we'll catch QJ this calm next time..."

"Quackerjack Brand Insanity is just the thing to make any group gathering 25% more fun, gaurunteed!" Liquidator gurgled. Smiling in a way that reminded the others that dogs were technically hunters, he added, "Fun for the live audience, anyways."

"I don't have to come, guys." Quackerjack said, focused once more on his spinning top.

"We wouldn't leave you out, Quackie." Megavolt promised.

"Trying to make myself relax when I don't feel like it is never nice anyways." Quackerjack dismissed. "You guys schedule the off days, I'll come if I'm calm and skip if I'm not. That way I won't try to stay still for your sakes. Trust me, St Canard is better off if I'm not a duck-shaped ball of pent up energy."

Snorting at his rather candid view of himself, the others agreed to having more off days with or without him, though they'd be hypocrites if they weren't willing to put up with a bit of destructive behavior now and again, so of course he could come even if he wasn't feeling calm, really–

Rolling his eyes at their assurances that he was valued and loved no matter how hyperactive and downright annoying he was (ugh, this was getting to be too much, it reminded him of the time Bushy had a panic attack about being alone forever or something like that), Quackerjack quickly searched his mind for a change of topic. Oh! There was a question he wanted to ask, actually!

"Hey, Megsy?" He looked down at the rat, who'd slowly slipped from leaning against his arm to laying his head in Quackerjack's lap. "You're a guy, right?"

"Far as I can remember, yeah." Megavolt scratched his head, trying a little harder as always to remember the most basic of details about himself. But the important thing was that he did remember this time. Which meant that his memory hadn't finally gone out for good. Megavolt tilted his head back to meet Quackerjack's eyes with his own. "Why?"

"He's been asking everyone." Bushroot sighed, a little exasperated and a little fond. He was thin, being a plant and all, so was able to fit himself on the couch between Quackerjack and the arm on the opposite side to the one Megavolt's feet were on. "Turns out we're all guys, more or less."

"Neat." Megavolt said genuinely, missing the mild sarcasm in Bushroot's voice. The other two noticed it, but Quackerjack didn't care and Liquidator found it funny. His whiskers sparked as he thought of something, "Wait, but Mr Banana Brain isn't a guy, it's a doll."

With a very loud gasp, Quackerjack shot off the couch, pushing the other two off it in the process. Holding his favorite toy close to his chest, he pointed at the dazed rat, his voice filled with indignation as he insisted, "Mr Banana Brain isn't an 'it'! He is a 'he'!"

(He wasn't, though. It's a doll, it's a doll, it's just you, Quackerjack screamed at himself. But he knew that he'd long ago passed the threshold of no return, so he ignored himself, letting his delusions drown out the voice that spoke the truth. The voice that spoke words of hope that he'd be sent to an asylum instead of jail during every arrest. The voice that said children should be kept very far away from him and his inventions. The voice he'd gotten very good at believing wasn't there).

"Why? What makes him a 'he'?" Megavolt asked, sounding annoyed as he got back on the couch. "If he's not a doll, he's at least a banana — do plants even have gender?"

"Technically–" Bushroot began, but was interrupted by Quackerjack.

"I never said he wasn't a doll." Quackerjack snapped (the voice mourned his slipping lucidity). He looked at Mr Banana Brain, anger fading into thoughtfulness. "Say, what does make ya a 'he'? I've never seen any parts on ya, and you weren't changed like Bushbrain and Likky, so..."

"Isn't it obvious, Russ?" Mr Banana Brain asked "I've got 'Mr' in my name, Graham!"

"Ooooh!" Megavolt said, as if this cleared the matter up wonderfully. Whether he actually thought such or was just playing along to make Quackerjack feel better, it was impossible to tell. "I guess we are all guys, then. Neat! ...did I already say that?"

"Now that we're done discussing the finer points of doll gender," Bushroot said, dragging Liquidator's tank over to the couch (Liquidator would do it himself, but he was only allowed to move freely in a very limited area of the apartment, considering how many live wires and such were around the place), "anyone up for a movie?"

It was after the movie, when everyone but Megavolt was getting ready to go home, that one last thing occurred to Quackerjack. "Ya know," he began, "we actually don't know that we're all guys."

"Quackie, you already asked everyone here." Megavolt told him. "Remember?"

Deciding to ignore the irony of Megavolt questioning his memory, Quackerjack continued, "I asked everyone here, but not all of us are here! We didn't ask Negs."

Everyone collectively froze. Though none of the three mutants possessed true psychic power (beyond talking to plants or controlling water), they seemed to mentally connect as they turned in unison to stare at Quackerjack. Quackerjack, meanwhile, was staring back at them in confusion, completely oblivious as to what the matter was.

"Feeling too safe and secure recently?" Liquidator garbled, saying what they were all thinking in his own way. "Miss the comfort of the prison hospital? Well then, have I got a deal for you! Question the savage maniac we call a boss–" none of them called him their Lord and Master, no matter what Darkwing thought "–about his manhood! Guaranteed to deal with any pesky issues, like being in one piece, fast fast fast!"

With the last bit of sanity he had for the day, Quackerjack thought it over and said "Okay, fair point." He swallowed, pulling at his collar, thinking of how Negaduck might react to such a question. Then he grinned. "Ya know, the night's still young, and our off day is over now..."

"So who's up to taking a little trip to the bank, Frank?" Mr Banana Brain finished (there was something wrong with that. He didn't want to couldn't remember what it was).

"I have been falling behind on my errands lately..." Bushroot said slowly, grinning back. His grins couldn't really manage to be sinister, not unless he was doing something involving highly inadvisable and possibly unethical science, but he did a pretty decent job at sly and mischievous. "Bud?"

"Liquidator Brand Water is always open to a little after-hours business." Liquidator agreed, flowing from the tank and out the apartment door before Megavolt could complain about him getting things wet.

"You guys have fun." Megavolt yawned, a hand on the door as the others filtered out. "I need to charge for a while. See you whenever we planned next."

Megavolt rarely remembered when heists or planning sessions or other such get-togethers were scheduled. Luckily, the others usually knew where to find him and made minimal complaints about retrieving him.

"B-bye, El-elmo."

"See you soon, Megs."

"Catch ya later, Megsy!"

"Smell ya later, Sparky."

"DON'T CALL ME SPARKY!" Megavolt yelled through the door. Almost no-one lived in the apartment complex, and those that did were long used to him, so he didn't worry about being loud. Not that he would've particularly worried about it anyways, but still.

Quackerjack giggled and hopped after Likky and Melonhead. He was in a good mood.

Technically, his day had been very boring; he'd mostly just sat around and fiddled with one of his simpler toys (which still didn't work right), he didn't see Megsy for a large portion of the day, and the most they'd really done was watch a b-rate movie Liquidator liked that had come out two decades before he'd even been hatched.

Still, though, there was something nice about it. No schemes, no plots, no mass destruction or high speed chases or... Any of that, really. Just some friends relaxing in the general proximity of each other, talking about dumb stuff (because, yes, it was dumb. Interesting, but dumb). He'd never really had that before.

Soon afterwards, a bank alarm was blaring and lights were flashing. Smoke was thick in the air, a voice that both haunted their nightmares yet spurred on their dreams warning the three thieves that no crime would go unpunished while the terror flapped in the night. He was running, and he'd lost sight of the others, and his arms were heavy with far too much money to properly carry. Darkwing was almost on him and he was probably going to jail.

All in all, a perfect ending to a great day. :)