happilyeverbeginning | toss a coin to your witcher (dumb duck trio)

Scrooge had been at this nonsense for almost two days now and he was done with it. Not that he'd solved the issue but he just wanted to get away from the villagers.

Unfortunately, things were bound to escalate if he just gave them back their money and left. They'd likely hire someone else who was more interested in the money than in actually fixing things. Days like this, he wished he'd hung up his proverbial decades ago and simply focused on his business. But no. Here he was. Dealing with this kind of garbage again.

He looked through the various reports that he'd typed up onto his tablet, rubbing at his eyes. There was definitely something here, but each new report -- once he stripped out the baseless accusations -- proved that it wasn't likely a spellcaster at work.

This was getting him nowhere.

Snapping the cover on his tablet clothes, he slid it into his backpack and started making his way towards the crumbling manor. It was time to see what these twins were really like for himself.

The cry of the raven echoed again, and this time Scrooge would see the bird for himself, flapping out a window and sitting on the very edge of the roof. Not only did it seem to watch Scrooge, but it also appeared to be glaring at him. At least it was a pretty bird, well-kept and almost plump with spoils.

However, any evidence that this was an ordinary if not fat little raven would vanish after it spoke.

"State your business."

Well, well. That was a rather well-fed familiar, wasn't it?

Scrooge glanced at the house again before looking back to the raven. Clearly the bird was in excellent health which meant that the De Spells had at least enough money and power to manage that but not enough to fix the manor itself.

"My name is Scrooge McDuck. I was hoping to speak with either Mister or Miss De Spell about some trouble going on in the village." He paused for a moment before continuing with "I was hoping their expertise with magic might have meant they noticed something the villagers didn't."

The bird tilted its head this way and that, trying to decide if this was friend or foe.

"Many have come here for aide, only to stab them in the back when the deed is done. How do we all know you're not here to attack my masters?"

"You don't," Scrooge admitted bluntly. "And I don't blame you for being cautious. So how about this?"

Scrooge slid the backpack off of his back and tossed it out of reach, the well-padded knapsack making a hollow thump on the ground that wouldn't damage the tablet tucked inside it. He then reached into his pocket to remove his trusty revolver and tossed it onto the pack.

Now disarmed, he looked up at the familiar. "A decent start, I hope?"

Hmmm. A good start. The raven eyed him a little more, and then turned to fly into the house, presumably to alert the masters know what was going on.

Like any good horror movie, the front door began to open on its own... or maybe the door was so old and weak that a gentle breeze had opened it.

As Scrooge would inevitably approach the house, the quiet backstory of the Spells could be revealed just by looking - once upon a time this family was no doubt very wealthy, or at least had the high social standings to justify such expenses. But with dwindling family members and a lack of funds, the mansion was falling apart. There simply was no time, enough hands, or money to keep up with a house that big. Even magic had its limits.

He'd find the twins sitting in the lounge, awaiting him reluctantly. The "pretty" part was true, at least - even those not looking for romantic interests couldn't deny they were equal in attractiveness. The sister was sitting on a faded loveseat, her dress simple and perhaps patched up once or twice, wringing her wrists while trying to appear calm and collected. The brother was on his feet - whatever money he had might go to his clothes, since his was were in much better shape - while tapping the back of his sister's seat. While both weren't exactly wearing friendly faces, the brother seemed to be glowering much harsher.

"Scrooge, was it?" said the woman.

"Just because we allowed you inside," said the man, "doesn't mean we've agreed to anything."

Scrooge entered the house, a little itchy at having to leave his things behind, but hopefully nobody would swipe them while he was there. He looked with interest around, easily reading the same sad story as the slow degradation of Clan McDuck.

The twins themselves were quite a pair. Little wonder people accused the duo of bewitching them.

He swiftly decided on his course of action, choosing to use the same politeness he used when addressing Countess Morgana. The duo were mages from a powerful family line. Extending respect would be the best way forward.

"I'm sorry that I came without sending a message ahead, but I wasn't sure how to reach you," he said, giving them a polite bow. "And I doubted your neighbors would be willing to play messenger." He straightened. "I was hired to come and put an end to the trouble going on, but what I've found so far doesn't fit the narrative the villagers gave me. I was hoping to call upon your magical expertise to see if it's possible to properly nail down the real cause."

Even though they desired respect, the two had apparently gone so long without it that actually receiving it showed clear surprise on their faces. They exchanged a quick look, each making their own decisions.

"Seeing as their narrative is usually 'Blame the Spells'", the woman said dryly, "it still doesn't mean you're not a threat."

"But we are willing to admit there are calamites going down in that quaint little mudspot they call home." The brother reached out to stroke his sister's hair, perhaps to calm her mood. "Though why we should bother to help them is the real question you'll have to answer. "

"Quite frankly, if I were in your position, I'd tell the lot of them to rot, too," Scrooge said dryly. "However, if I leave, I'm worried they'll call in someone else who might not bother to deal with the true source of all these issues and instead focus on you two like the villagers want." Scrooge looked them dead in the eye, wanting them to see how genuine his words were. "From what I've seen, you two might cause a bit of mischief here and there -- not entirely undeserved, I'm sure -- but you haven't hurt anyone. In which case my stance is 'find a compromise and then live and let live'."

The woman scoffed, tossing hair over her shoulder. "We could handle any measly whelp they send our way."

The man squeezed her shoulder and then moved to sit next to her - his posing was now a little more relaxed, perhaps because Scrooge was talking sense. "Perhaps we could, Magica dear, but the less people in our hair, the better." With that, he addressed Scrooge. "Just to make sure we're on the same lane... what can you tell us about the vexing problems the villagers are supposedly having?"

Scrooge smiled at Poe, seeing the younger man (or at least younger-seeming man) sitting down as a sign that he was allowing at least some trust.

"If your familiar would be agreeable, I'd like to bring in my knapsack. I have notes from all of their reports, and it might be simpler to share those with you directly. I squeezed as much detail as I could out of each person and my notes are organized."

He then glanced in the direction of the raven.

"I'd also like to bring in my revolver to give to you two to hang on to during my visit. I always keep a weapon on me for personal protection but I left it outside to show you I meant you no harm. However, I don't like the idea of it sitting out there unattended where someone with an axe to grind against you could grab it and use it against you later. I want it in your possession so that way you don't have to worry about me suddenly aiming and opening fire on you."

"That's... almost stupidly trustful." The brother couldn't help but snark - after all, putting the gun with them meant they could use it on him.

Magica looked at the direction of the raven, and snapped her fingers. "Ratface! Fetch his things."

With a caw, the bird flew off to obtain just that - even though the pack was fairly heavy, the bird appeared to carry it with ease, setting it gently between the siblings. Magica scratched his beak, pleased. "That's a good boy. You'll get extra helpings tonight."

"Magica, if you'd feed yourself as often as you do that rat with wings-"

"Hush, Poe, he deserves it." And now Scrooge knew the second name.

Scrooge gave a grin. "You ever tried firing a gun before, Mr. De Spell? I can aim and fire incredibly quickly but I guarantee you'd have hit me with two or three spells before I could finish drawing. Coming here openly is automatically putting me at the disadvantage. I did it because I want to resolve the situation even if it means my ego takes a hit."

He watched the familiar fly in and out, taking his things as soon as they were offered. "Thank you," he told the raven, bowing his head slightly in a show of direct respect to the familiar.

Even if he didn't see how much the young lady valued their familiar, it was stupid to anger a familiar in general. They had the potential for power in their own right. Offend a familiar and you might not live to see its master.

He set the bag down for the moment and walked over to the De Spells with revolver in hand. He held it by the barrel, the grip facing the twins. If they wanted to, they could grab the weapon and squeeze the trigger to shoot him first.

"Best to hold it with both hands. I'll let go once I'm sure you've got it. It's not likely to go off if you drop it, but better to be safe than sorry."

It was a decent-sized revolver, but most people would've been shocked by how heavy it was. Most people's exposure to guns were the movies where the actors aimed, fired, and did all manner of things with them easily. Save the grip, the weapon and all its intricate parts were solid metal. Scrooge's weapon in particular was further modified to accommodate having to fire different sorts of rounds such as salt, silver, iron, and blessed lead.

Magica, clearly not liking being told she didn't know what she was talking about, huffed and snootily turned her beak up, continuing to pet her familiar. That left Poe to take the weapon, and judging from his surprised expression, Scrooge was right that the two were unfamiliar in the ways of firearms. Poe held it with one hand, noticing the weight, and ran his fingers over it with his other hand.

"Not the ugliest thing I've ever put my hands on," he couldn't help but quip.

The raven hopped onto Magica's shoulder so she could start going through the papers. "For future reference, I wouldn't rely on Countess Morgana's opinion on anything. Word through the magical realm is that she's gone lovesick over some idiot in a mask."

Poe tsked, setting the gun aside on a lopsided coffee table. "A shame, I used to think she had good taste."

"I've met the idiot in the mask and, honestly, I don't know what she sees in him. But that's none of my business." He shrugged as he went back to his knapsack, bending over to pick it up and unintentionally giving the twins a solid view of his rear end. He started rooting around in it, retrieving the tablet and opening it up. "There really is someone out there for everyone, I suppose."

He turned back towards the De Spells, fingers deftly working the touch screen as he pulled up his notes.

"The main complaints center around a female specter that can be seen at midday. She's lured in two of the villagers so far but one managed to get away. Said he was drawn in by her singing." He glanced up at the twins. "Initially sounds like a banshee until you take into account the 'midday' portion, so I'm inclined to think she's a noonwraith. The villagers aren't hearing it though. They think it's some sort of curse you've put on the grounds she haunts."

Edited 2022-01-28 21:31 (UTC)

Well now. They appreciated the view, tilting their heads a bit, but made sure to be be upright when he was. They then exchanged glances as soon as certain terminology was used, one silently nodding to the other. Often they didn't even need to say anything out loud to have the other understand. But since Scrooge didn't share the "connection"...

"There was a bride who threw herself off the mountain two months ago." Magica began to explain. "As far as the gossip goes, the supposed groom was caught with a richer girl before he even walked down the aisle... she was a farmer's daughter, you see, and he wanted to have his cake and eat it too."

Poe got up to examine the tablet a bit better over Scrooge's shoulder, taking a note at the name of the victims. "Mmm... First one she offed was the groom. The second one, who escaped, is the brother of the rich girl. If it is her corrupted spirit, she's likely going after anyone related to the whole filthy show."

He beamed at the duo. "Seems coming here is already paying off. The poor lass never even came up when I was asking around town."

Poor girl. As uncharitable as it was, Scrooge was glad that her former fiancee got his just desserts.

"Tell me more about her? I'd rather dispel her peacefully if possible. Destroying a specter..." He shook his head. "Poor girl's gone through enough if you ask me."

"In this neck of the woods, they think the best way to honor the dead is to pretend they never existed." Magica groused, although since Scrooge had done the right thing and praised her, the attitude wasn't directly towards him. "Besides, why blame the bastard when they accuse Poe of cursing the bride?"

"Or of Magica being the evil songstress luring men to their deaths?" Poe paused briefly. "Though you do have a lovely singing voice, sister dear."

"Regardless," Magica ignored the compliment for now. "I'm afraid there's not much to tell after that. As you already know, we're not exactly warm and cuddly with anyone within the village. A lot of what I know is from what Ratface overhears when he takes his flights."

"And when I glean anything," Poe continued, "It's when I go out for supplies in disguise. Not everyone is willing to swap stories with a stranger." He sat by Magica again, at least trying to think of any hints or clues. "Devoted father's girl, if I had to wager a guess - he spent all savings on a lavish wedding, only for it to be ruined."

"Anything you can tell me is better than nothing. Do we know what happened to the rest of her family? Their fate might further root her to this world." His eyes turned sad. "I've seen too many ghosts of those who committed suicide and realized too late that an end to their current agonies only led to far more pain for their loved ones due to the loss of them. All while they were unable to do anything to ease that pain."

Clan McDuck had fae blood in their veins, granting them increased longevity but at times random abilities. Scrooge had a frightfully strong talent for spirits, a talent that had taken him decades to realize he'd possessed due to seeing the dead as clearly as he could the living.

He sounded sincere, at least. Poe sighed quietly, a bit uncomfortable as he crossed his arms. "... We still can't promise it's all accurate information. And even if it is, you should know many a Noonwraith can't be soothed. By the time they've reached that form, their anger is solidified, and eventually they'll begin to grab victims that aren't even related to the 'crime' at hand. They just want everyone to suffer as they have."

Magica closed her eyes for a moment, trying to rack her brain for any further information. "No mother in the picture, I believe. The father couldn't get back his money from the wedding... had to sell the farm, and now takes whatever job's available. There were never any apologies or condolences. Everyone distanced themselves from it - if it wasn't their problem, they didn't have to think about it. Few times I've seen the man, he looks ready to be at death's door himself... he might even welcome it."

Scrooge sighed. "I know. I just have to try."

And if the De Spells were studying him closely enough, they might notice that he did have some magical evidence of the fae blood in him.

More importantly was the determined look on his face.

"Regardless, I'm not going to be stupid and go entirely unarmed in case things don't work out. Now that I know what I'm up against, I'll need to adjust what I have on hand.

"I believe that the villagers mentioned that one or both of you is good with alchemy...?"

Magica made a wave-y gesture to Poe, who did indeed raise his hand. "That would be me. Magica's better at creating and experimentation, whereas my strength is in memorization and application."

"And fashion." Magica quipped.

"And fashion." No love loss there. "When it comes to creatures like Noonwraiths, your best bet is a good helping of moon dust and specter oil... both of which I have in abundance. Never know when you might need them." He rose from his seat, likely intending to get it.

"Though they are rare ingredients," Magica pointed out, eyebrow raised. "So handing them over so easily should come with some... compensation."

"After all this, you think I'm going to try and rob you blind?" Scrooge teased. He waved a hand carelessly. "Feel free to mark up the price a bit. I'll just add it to my fee down in the village. I told them I expected to be reimbursed for any additional supplies I might need. Just write me up a receipt in case they try to challenge it."

He smirked.

"They don't need to know where I purchased those supplies from."

"That does leave the door open to robbing you blind." Magica said with a snort, and her raven tried to imitate the noise.

Poe tsked. "Now now, sister... a man who came all this way, and knows this much, probably can tell when he's being swindled. Let's make sure we leave him a fair amount." He then flashed his own similar smirk. "Depending on how one defines fair." And with a chuckle, he walked off into room.

"I'm no idiot. I know what I'm asking for is worth. If you inflate the price too much, I'll haggle it down." He tapped the brim of his hat. "It's the Scotsman in me. We're cheap. However, it's not my money I'm spending in this case so I'm willing to be a little less ruthless."

Which amused him to no end. Ah, it was so nice to buy and trade in-person for once instead of the massive piles of stocks and other goods he worked with on a regular basis.

"Would you two mind if I sat down for a bit?"

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