The Doll

Chapter 6: The Rules

"You have to explain to him that he's safe here!" Bushroot demanded, a stern look on his features. Oh, how Negaduck missed the snivelling coward the plant once was.

"And what makes you think he's safe?" Negaduck sneered. "He belongs to the most volatile duck in St Canard. Who knows what I might do to him?"

"That might've worked on me a year ago, but I know you now." The plant didn't back down. "You don't hurt people unless they piss you off."

"And you're getting dangerously close to that, Weed." Negaduck warned.

"So get out the woodchipper, Boss." Bushroot shrugged, annoyingly calm. "I know what I'm getting into being a part of this team, and I know the consequences. He doesn't. That poor duck is afraid of smiling, Nigel."

He has a point. The shadow added, sounding completely not mocking for once. Paddywhack doesn't mess around.

Maybe it was the sound of his chosen name (few knew it, fewer could get away with saying it), maybe it was reminder that Paddywhack had done this, or maybe he just knew it was wrong, but Negaduck sighed, visibly deflating as he gave in.

"I guess he will be pretty useless if he has panic attacks all the time." Negaduck walked over to his slave, a tiny pang of concern annoyance going through him at how done with everything the other duck looked. "Quackerjack."

"Milord." Quackerjack repositioned himself so he was kneeling on the ground rather than sitting on it, looking as if he expected to be hit. Worse, looking as if he accepted he was going to be hit. As if it was the only proper, logical outcome.

"Everyone but Quackerjack out, now." Negaduck barked, rewarded with instance obedience. They were more rebellious nowadays, since they'd wormed their way into his heart, but still knew who was in charge. He sat cross-legged on the ground in front of Quackerjack, thinking for a few moments on what to say. What does one say in this sort of situation, what did the other need to hear? "Quackerjack, I'm not Paddywhack."

"I know that, My Lord." Quackerjack answered, flinching when his doll added Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Gus!

Negaduck smirked at the banana. He looked at Quackerjack. "I don't think you do. I don't feed off misery, it doesn't give me strength. You're allowed to show happiness, you're allowed to calm yourself."

He tugged on the side of the jester hat, causing Quackerjack to suck in a breath, hands twitching. Negaduck briefly wondered what would happen if he just pulled it off, but for once decided to ignore it for reasons he didn't think too hard about.

"I think it's probably past time I explained somethin' important." Negaduck rolled his eyes. "Listen up, because I'm getting sick and tired of tellin' this story."

He explained the concept of the Negaverse, a difficult one but he had practice describing it, and of the Friendly Four. He explained how the Four worked well together, how he'd often wondered what they'd be like as villains, how his plan to make his own team with their counterparts formed. He took a risk and explained that Quackerjack was an equal with the other members of the Fearsome Four, serving under him but still free (to a certain extent, he was a dictator after all).

And to help things along, he even gave Quackerjack a list of rules.

1. Don't call Negaduck Master, he's a Lord 

2. Call anyone whatever he wanted

3. It was fine to do things like smile, laugh, or pull his hat -- so long as he didn't bug Negaduck

4. Don't skip meals, and obey Bushroot when it comes to food

5. Don't leave the castle without another member of the team

6. Use the furniture

7. Don't kneel

8. Look people in the eyes, if he wants

9. Clean any messes he creates

10. He can speak without being spoken to, but will only interrupt Negaduck if it's urgent.

11. He could keep Sir Banana Brain, and remake him if he gets destroyed.

Quackerjack followed Lord Negaduck through the castle hallways, head still spinning. After their talk (parallel realities -- why did that seem familiar?) Quackerjack had drank the dark liquid, which was called Hot Chocolate (the single best thing in the entire world, he'd been stuck grinning for three minutes afterwards), then his Lord had told him to come with him.

He wasn't sure where they were going, and he didn't care, he was too busy thinking. The rules were simple, easy to obey, but incredibly difficult to comprehend. He was to act like a Freeman, but a subservient one? And he was to be a 'supervillain', whatever that was, attacking real Freemen? It didn't make any sense!

And if his 'counterpart' was his Lord's enemy, why was Lord Negaduck not taking out his frustrations on him? Surely seeing the likeness of his opponent was infuriating.

And to think, there was a version of him that was not only free, but actively rebelled! The horror (the temptation).

He grabbed his hat, pulling down as he thought, since his Lord had said he could. Honestly, he wasn't panicking as badly as he might've been. He had Banana Brain, the tugging of cloth was soothing, and there was no Misery Demon to please by worsening his own panic. Maybe, just maybe, he could adapt to this. Well, not to the idea of being equal to anyone, even amongst slaves he was bottom rung.

But the rest? Maybe. Someday. Definitely not any day soon, but eventually. Maybe?

"Here we are." Lord Negaduck said, stopping at a dead end. A tapestry hung on the wall, of the Lord himself, with two doors on each of the side walls. Signs were attached to each door.

A yellow door had a messily scrawled sign with Elmo's Room Megavolt's Lab, disturb at own risk!!! written on it

The blue door's sign said Property Of Liquidator Brand Water, No Trespassing in a handwriting that was probably once neat, but looked as if water had been run over it shortly after writing.

The green door had elegant curls reading Scholar Reginald Bushroot.

Then there was the red door, with the letters QJ marked simply onto its sign. Wait...

"Milord, that doesn't look like a cell." Lord Negaduck had told him to speak up more, but he still flinched at his own boldness. "It looks like a bedroom."

"Gee, maybe that's because it is a bedroom." Lord Negaduck said mockingly, making Quackerjack cower. His Lord's head turned to the side for a second, as if listening to someone, then his features slackened for a second. He groaned and turned back to Quackerjack, looking tired. "I mean, I get a whole wing of the castle to myself, you each get a room. Unfairly fair, in my opinion. Stay in your room until at least sunrise, and stay with one of the others when out of it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Milord." Quackerjack bowed his head as the other walked off.

Sweet dreams, Reams!

"Is that even a name?" Quackerjack asked, moving towards the -- his..? -- door. He hesitated to open it, but the Binding pushed him to follow the order to stay in his room. He put his hand on the silver doorknob, taking a breath before he twisted it.

It was a simple room, with no windows but plenty of light coming from somewhere. The floor had a green carpet, though the walls were the same rough, dark stone as the rest of the castle. A desk was pushed against one wall, with one of the 'screens' (the same things that showed different images in the hallways) and a board with the alphabet along with stranger symbols on it. A small round mattress with a red blanket and pillows - pillows! - was in another corner.

But all of this -- even sleeping on a bed -- paled compared to the wooden chest in the center of the room, and what he found inside it. The note read 'A little welcome home gift, hope you enjoy -- Megs, Likky, Reg (and the Boss, but he'll deny it so don't ask).'

Board games, a set of playing cards, wood and basic tools, cloth and stuffing and sewing supplies, a handful of unusual toys he'd never seen before -- it was the best gift he'd ever gotten. Well, technically, it was the only gift he'd ever gotten, but still.

And he knew exactly what he wanted to do with it, spending a good chunk of the night working while Sir Banana Brain chattered happily on. There was a mirror behind the door, and he admired his work in it.

It was his suit, but clean and without patches. Bright red and deep purple-blue, soft white and striking yellow, tinkling bells and curled shoes -- for the first time in his memory, his reflection actually looked like it belonged to him.

He wasn't free, he wasn't stupid enough to believe he ever would be, but for the first time in years...

He was happy. Happy enough to play...