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

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toss a coin to your witcher (dumb duck trio)

"She used her dark magics on my husband, and now he sees her shadow in the mirror every night!"
"He killed an entire farm-hands livestock, all for his own twisted amusement."
"They have a garden full of statues that were once children, now frozen in time forever..."

As Scrooge McDuck - world's richest duck, famed adventurer, and also expert monster hunter - continued his research into the "mages of the mountain", he found each new rumor was more outlandish than the last. Sure, there were a few things that were consistent - the two were twins, beautiful in their own way, and fiercely loyal to one another - but after that, each new round of gossip could make them sound like petulant children or gods themselves. Whatever troubles the villagers were having, be it bad weather or failing crops, it was surely the fault of the De Spell family.

And yes, perhaps the manor of the twins - lofted right into the side of the highest hill, with decaying greenery entwined all around the massive stone steps - was a little something out of a gothic horror novel. Dark colors, eerie structure, and maybe a cracked gargoyle or two. The cry of a raven could be found in the distance. But if these twins were as powerful as so whispered, why couldn't they afford to fix the twisted rafters from the windows, or cover the drafts from moldy holes? The land itself was probably pricey property, and many would pay handsomely for it... if some particular vermin was exterminated.

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Poe frowned as he watched Scrooge go. Clearly this was a rich man, but how rich was not something Poe would have guessed. With a sigh, he went to join his sister and make sure the list was more reasonable than desirable. Tempting as it would be to take advantage of Scrooge's supposed generosity, one wrong move could break things apart sooner rather than later. If they could at least have him keep his word until the manor was more... livable, to put it lightly, then they'd be satisfied.

Also, make sure to put away any family heirlooms locked away with magic. If they didn't trust Scrooge, they especially didn't trust random strangers coming into their home. No need to tempt any would-be thieves.

Scrooge returned that afternoon in a van with a quiet-run generator, a miniature cell tower, an engineer, and five very excited renovators.

This wasn't the full team, of course. These people were to do the assessments, to figure out where potential trouble spots were such as wood rot or mold. The engineer had a special assignment: setting up a means of harnessing the geothermal energy of the volcano to supply steady power to the manor to get around having to rely on anything the villagers might be able to cut off. The man was also tasked with coming up with ideas to do the same for water. That would remain even after he'd gone so the De Spells could have access to amenities without having to pull from their magical resources.

If things worked out, the people down below might snap back to their senses, but Scrooge wasn't betting on it.

He left his bags and revolver in the van this time, relieved that it was something he could lock instead of worrying that he'd step outside and find everything gone.

"Well, everyone? First assessments?" Scrooge asked.

One sparkly-eyed young assessor -- one of the seniors' apprentice -- looked to him. "It's beautiful!"

Scrooge chuckled. "Well, lad, with a little elbow grease, we'll polish her to be the envy of Italy." He approached the front door and knocked.

Ratface, again, was standing guard on the roof. He grumbled about the number of people, but flitted into the house without any wise-cracks or warnings.

The door opened, and inside, the twins were standing at the ready, with several stacks of papers in their arms - the "list" they'd complied. They were doing their best to put on a cold, calm air of indifference in order to retain their dignity and status - but it was clear from how far away they were standing, and how close they were to one another, how nervous they were about this many people in their house. Since they tended to avoid the village as much as possible, it was likely they weren't used to "crowds" in general.

"Is this everyone?" Magica asked.

"These people are here to do a basic assessment of things. The full crew is going to be much larger," Scrooge explained. "I wanted as many people on top of this as I could to get things done as swiftly as possible. That way you don't have to put up with people trampling all over your home for weeks on end."

Scrooge turned to his team.

"Everyone, these are Mr. Poe De Spell and Miss Magica De Spell. That there..." He pointed in the direction of the familiar. "...is their familiar Ratface. All three of them? You treat their word as gospel. They tell you to not go somewhere or not touch something, you obey immediately. If there is a reason that you need to go into one of those places, it needs to be discussed to ensure that both sides understand the situation and things can move smoothly forward. We want this place to be in the best shape it's been since it was built if not better, but we are ultimately guests here. There is zero tolerance for disrespect. Always mind your manners. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Scrooge's forward troops answered.

"Good. Giancarlo, you have some idea of where you want to set up your generator and get started on those ground assessments?"

"I'll need to walk the perimeter first to pick out some spots."

"Very well." He looked towards the De Spells. "Will him wandering around outside be all right or would you be more comfortable having someone keeping an eye on him?"

Edited 2022-02-11 21:39 (UTC)

The full crew was going to be larger? Even though Magica badly wanted the money, the idea of the house full of strangers made her stomach churn. Still, she swallowed through it, and snapped her fingers. "Ratface, watch and report him."

"Yes, mistress." Ratface nodded, moving to perch closer to the small crowd.

Poe used a free hand to snap his fingers as well - some of the doors in the manor were carved with symbols, and now those symbols began to glow in different colors.

"Colorless doors mean you can come and go as you please. Green doors mean you may enter but only after asking our permission first. Yellow doors mean you cannot enter without one of us present. And red doors you do not enter under any circumstances whatsoever. You touch the doorknob of those and you'll suffer for it."

Giancarlo started a bit at the raven talking but he gave an awkward grin. Working for Scrooge McDuck meant you met some interesting people.

"Oh goddammit," one of the renovators muttered.

Scrooge whipped his head towards him, making the man jump. "Problem?"

"Not with the rules, sir. I just..." The mallard rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm red-green colorblind."

"Got it handled!" the apprentice eagerly chirped. "I'll stick with you so you don't go for the wrong door."

"Thanks."

Scrooge relaxed. "Any other issues? No? Good. Off you get."

And like a pack of hounds released to start sniffing out prey, the renovators entered, each taking the time to make sure they wiped their feet so they didn't track in anything.

The twins mutually grumbled - couldn't these cronies at least pretend their were intimated? The Spells were supposed to be superior! At least a little whispering or shaking would do!

Poe let out a heavy sigh, hoping their ancestors wouldn't be angry at all these invaders, while Magica headed towards Scrooge with the first stack of papers. "Here's an itemized list of what we'll need going forward. It's numbered by most important to least." And it was reasonable, for the most part. On the 'least important' side is where things got a bit silly, at least as far as the twins agreed on.

Sure, they'd like new wardrobes and shoes and such, but they weren't dying without them.

Scrooge very carefully looked over the list, brow furrowing as he softly muttered numbers under his breath like financial incantations. This was actually surprisingly reasonable all things considered. However...

"Some of these items aren't available anymore. I'll need to arrange for them to be specially-made if they can't be swapped with more modern equivalents." He glanced at Poe. "I could ask one of my people to bring over some burners that run on electricity for you to test and see if they'd make suitable replacements for at least the time being while the new pieces are made."

Their uneasy faces went back to befuddlement - modern equivalents? How were these not modern? Given how rarely they stepped outside the manor, or even the village, it was very likely the twins were very behind when it came to most technology.

Poe didn't want to admit he was intrigued by such a concept. Magica's forte was creativity, while his was learning. Still, couldn't let that happiness show! "If you must, then by all means."

"I'll get that for you then."

Things were going just swimmingly!

His eyes finally fell to the bottom of the list. He gave a thoughtful frown.

"I don't know much about fashion," he admitted. "But I can call in a designer to discuss your needs with you. Not just for the appearance but also what materials would work best living on the side of a volcano. I don't imagine regular contact with sulfur does good things to clothing."

... If he didn't know much about fashion, then how did the know that?! It was like every sentence out of his mouth came with a surprise!

Magica "broke character", sighing with clear relief. "Oh, thank the gods, I've been wearing mother's hand-me-downs for too long."

Poe nudged her, trying to make her get back to Serious Spell mode. "You don't have an argument against anything? You'll actually do it all?"

"I gave you my word, didn't I? Besides, this isn't in the least bit unreasonable." He raised a brow. "Why? Was there more you cut from the list?"

Magica gave Poe a look. "Plenty, actually."

Poe held his hand up defensively. "We're not selling our souls to the highest bidder. This man is still a stranger to us. I won't have us dependent on him, especially when we don't know how long this whole affair will take."

If Poe was expecting Scrooge to get indignant, he was about to be shocked:

Scrooge's beak spread in a wide smile. "Now that's what I like to hear! Good on you, lad!" He held up the list. "Yes, this'll be good for a start. Then if later on you decide to draw more things to my attention, we'll go over them."

Oh, these De Spells were interesting!

"Sir, we've got a potential situation."

Scrooge turned to the renovator who stood with her phone held out to him. He took the phone, looking at the photograph. His face sobered. "What am I looking at?"

"Wood rot but we're just seeing the surface level." She pointed towards the back of the house. "It's growing beneath the floorboards back there. A few more weeks, and that section of the floor would collapse at the slightest touch. Even the familiar landing on it would do the trick."

"It can be replaced?"

"Yes, but I need permission to get down into the cellar to examine the foundation. Wood rot could be just the tip of the iceberg." She then gave a rueful smile. "And I'm not colorblind and know better than to touch a red door."

Edited 2022-02-12 01:17 (UTC)

Godsdammit, get indignant, get angry, get annoyed, do something he can work with!

But today would be full of distractions. The mention of the cellar gave both twins grave pause, and Poe was quick to grab Magica's hand to offer a comforting squeeze.

"... That's where we lay the bones of past Spells." Magica said quietly. The flesh was given to the earth to help renew it and give in death what they couldn't in life. Bones were sacred, and had to be kept safe. "... Poe, let them in."

"Magica-" But Poe stopped himself, rubbing his temples. If the rot was that bad, they had little choice about it. A finger snap, no doubt making the door safe. "Look. But do not touch anything."

If Poe and Magica were upset that the renovators weren't scared of them, well, this one shivered. "So it's not a cellar, it's a crypt?"

"Apparently so," Scrooge murmured. He pocketed handed the woman back her phone as he focused on the twins. "Would one of you mind accompanying us to take a look at the foundation? I doubt either of us are familiar with how you lay your ancestors to rest, and I don't want to risk disturbing them."

And not simply because as a medium a pissed-off spirit would make his life a living hell.

Poe was clearly about to volunteer, but this time Magica cut him off. "I can handle this. Go watch over the others."

He clearly wasn't happy about this, but stroked her hair. "... Call for me and I'll be there in a second."

"I know." She squeezed his shoulder before heading to the cellar. The door itself looked plain and ordinary, definitely not something one would think was holding souls of the dead - which was possibly the point.

After Magica opened the door and took the first step, torches lit up on their own - but even they were dim, suggesting this place had not been visited in ages. It was cold and damp down below, and seemed far bigger on the inside than the outside suggested it could have held. All along the back wall were murals of past Spell family members, with large coffin-like boxes beneath them, the keepers of the bones.

Magica was doing her best not to look at the final set of murals - her mother and father, no doubt.

Given what he'd found out about their parents, Scrooge wasn't in the least bit surprised that the twins avoided the crypt at all costs. His old heart twisted as he looked at the tapestries that acted as murals for the dead. And the two last ones had the newest tapestries.

So these were the senior De Spells.

The renovator formed the sign of the cross as she shivered. "Please don't curse me for all eternity. I promise I'm just here to help fix the place up."

"Calm down, Irabella. Just do your job and be respectful about it," Scrooge chided.

"Y-yes, sir." She swallowed and turned on her phone's flashlight. She then very carefully began walking around, checking the floor, the ceiling, and the walls.

Meanwhile, Scrooge looked to Magica. "I'm sorry to bring you down here, lass."

Funny, now that they had struck fear into the strangers, Magica didn't seem to like it quite as much. She rubbed her arms, though it wasn't from the cold, and didn't look at Scrooge either.

"... You might as well ask."

Did he want to know what led to the end of the elder Spells?

"Only if you want to talk about it, lass," Scrooge said. "It might help with figuring out what's going on, but...those are your parents. Not some stranger to you like Marzia was."

If it would help, what choice did she really have?

Magica sighed, and then reached over to plunge her fingers into the flames of a torch - but instead of burning her, the fire came with her. She pressed her fingers together, then wove them all about, and when she spread her hands open, there was a small image of four family members made out of flame. As she began her story, the characters moved accordingly...

"Once upon a time, there was a happy family that lived up in a manor high on the hill. Even though they didn't have much in the way of possessions, they had each other, and it was all they needed. Mother and Father taught Son and Daughter all they knew of witchcraft and spells, but also taught them love and kindness, and that they would always have each other."

"Mother and Father had a very important job in the village nearby. It was their job to keep the very bad things away. Sometimes only one of them needed to go, sometimes they both had to. But every time they did, they promised Son and Daughter they would come back. Sometimes when they came home, Mother and Father were very sad, or very hurt, but they kept on smiling for their beloved children."

"One day, Mother and Father were taking a very, very long time to come back. The sun rose and fell many times. The children weren't afraid at first - after all, Mother and Father had promised to come back, and they always had before. But they were getting hungry and lonely, so Son and Daughter decided to see if they could go find Mother and Father and they could all go home together."

"Mother and Father had never meant to break their promise. But the villagers had started to think that instead of getting rid of the Very Bad Things, Mother and Father were the cause of the Very Bad Things. Mother and Father were very tired after defeating the latest Very Bad Thing. They had no strength left."

"So when Son and Daughter came to the village, they found Mother and Father together as always."

The reason Magica had chosen flames to recreate the story? Because that was their final fate - burnt at the stake, just as the old trials from centuries past.

Scrooge listened silently, heart aching for the pair. He reached out with his spiritual senses, instinctively seeking out any wandering spirits. It wasn't likely but...he somewhat hoped he could reach out to their parents to at least assure the senior De Spells that their children had people in their corner.

"I'm sorry you had to share that," Scrooge said.

The strange thing was... Scrooge wouldn't sense any spirits. The other Spells had always been reassured that the next generation was fine. But why weren't the parent Spells there? Whether to watch over in love or fume in agony, they didn't appear to be there at all. If he tried harder, he might be able to discover why.

The bones of all the other Spells had a wisp of lingering spirituality, but more like leftover crumbs from breakfast. But the boxes underneath Mother and Father were barren of any sense... as if they were completely empty. As if there were no bones within.

Magica clapped her hands, snuffing out the flames. "It was inevitable. If you want to work with us, you're tainted. Now and forever."

"Already tainted enough on my own," Scrooge said. He then looked sadly to her parents' coffins. "What did they do with your parents' bones?"

"The hell if we know." Magica snorted with contempt. "Once we realized what had happened, Poe grabbed me and took me home as soon as possible, before the villagers noticed we were there... likely they would have added us as kindling. Mother and Father didn't even tell anyone they had children... I guess they always figured, in the back of their minds, it was always a possibility this could happen. So by the time the villagers realized they hadn't snuffed us all out, we were old enough to be considered too dangerous to confront."

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...One more tag before errands.

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