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  Passing Down the Torch
Posted by: Ghost Cat - 04-12-2020, 07:54 AM - Forum: Fanfiction - No Replies

Passing Down the Torch
Summary: Taking place over a decade - approximately fifteen years - after the events of “There Was No One Left to Speak Out”, Posiwing Duck had always known that death is a common thing, even when it happens, he must move on. Still those who remember the dead will forever carry a part of them.
Disclaimer I do not know Darkwing Duck or any Disney characters except my old OCs and a couple of new ones, otherwise I’d be as filthy rich as Scrooge McDuck and swimming in my own private money bin right about now. I certainly could envision the benefits of being a quad-zillionaire, though. Anyhow, this little pet project is a sequel of “There Was No One Left to Speak Out”. Let’s just say that a certain OC vampiress of mine turned to be wrong, but that's fine since not everyone can be right. ;)

Somewhere in the city of St. Canard, hiding under the cloak of night, a lone figure moved through the shadows stealthily, unseen, unheard. Her sharp green eyes surveyed her surroundings, watching valiantly for any signs of trouble. Everything is quiet, but she knew this can’t last.
She is somewhat uneasy at the moment. This is her first time out on her own. But, somehow, it felt natural to her, being out in the darkness of night. Then the hush of night is shattered by the sound of gunfire. The shots seem to be coming from the next block. The figure moved quickly. She arrived on the scene, still hidden under the cover of night.
Outside a the Last National Bank, police officers are exchanging laser fire with somebody held up inside. Police backup arrived, sirens wailing while police cars screeched to a halt. Officers in bulletproof vests and police dogs jumped from the vehicles, fully armed. The laws show of force is greeted with a small black marble ball tossed from a shattered window of the store. "Incoming!" One of the authorities shouted desperately to his companions. The police officers can only run to evade the violent explosion that followed. Large chunks of debris from exploding police cruisers rain down upon the city streets causing massive destruction. In the chaos, nobody noticed a lone caped figure stalking around the back of the building.
Inside the store, standing amidst the broken glass and rubble, a large figure watched through the broken windows, with great amusement, as St. Canard’s finest are helpless to stop him. He was a massive jaguar with muscles that made his triple extra-large clothes seemed painted, hulk of a man. He had shoulder length onyx black hair with a matching mutton chop, right green eye, and was wearing a pair of brown boots, desert cammo pants, a black t-shirt, a bandolier of bullets strapped around his chest, and a desert cammo jacket. He had a scar running from his left eyebrow to his cheek and a ebony eyepatch covering his eye. He stood laughing in the room for a while, then caressed the contents of his opened sack, which have been money, gold, jewelry, etc that stood behind him. It’s quite apparent that these are the spoils from his earlier plunders that night.
“Buffoons!” He taunted in his deep, menacing voice, “Do you losers really think you’re a match for Major Demolition? Ha, in your dreams. Not even SHUSH’s agents could defeat me!” He touched every piece in the bag more than once, sometimes looking down with guilty pleasure, other times with deep satisfaction, but most often laughing maniacally. Looking at a gold and diamond-encrusted pocket watch, he paused in his jubilation and frowned. “Tch, this is almost too easy nowadays,” He grumbled bitterly to himself. “I was actually expecting better opposition, but I suppose that’s what happens when this city's last hero has kicked the bucket two decades ago. I was hoping to bring out the heavy artillery.”
“Major Demolition?” A voice echoed from the darkness.
Major Demolition startled. Picking up the pocket-watch again, he hastily tucked it into his jacket. He pulled out a black bazooka with a red trim as he spun around, looking for the owner of the voice. “Who’s there!” The jaguar demanded harshly. “Come out where I can see you!” There was no answer. Major Demolition is growing nervous with each passing second. “I said, ‘who’s there?’ Don't make me repeat myself thrice!" He screamed again, his clawed finger tightening the trigger of his plasma cannon.
Silence… for a long moment he is answered with only silence, then… “you are Major Demolition, the most wanted terrorist in Calisota?” Came the voice from the shadows, in a questioning tone.
“Yeah, what of it? Stop cowering in the shadows and meet your marker!” Major Demolition retorted anxiously. He felt like the prey being stalked by an unseen predator. It’s usually not a feeling that the anarchist's accustomed to.
A silhouette moved in the shadows of the unlit room. Without hesitation, Major Demolition fired cylinders of red plasma, repeatedly. When he ceases fire, he’s sure he’s hit his target. He’s wrong. He felt a hand tapping his shoulder from behind. Major Demolition jumped in surprise and spun around. In the glow of the moonlight that shone through the shattered windows he can vaguely make out the form of a lone mallard that had a distinctively feminine shape, slender waist, a short beak, and was dressed in contrasting shades of blue with a white cape with blue lining, a wide brimmed ivory fedora on her head, cyan double breasted over a lavender turtleneck with a matching cloth strip mask, and steel-toed boots. She had long black hair with white streaks in it, which was braided into a ponytail dangling from out underneath her hat and surprisingly, she was rather slim being at 5’7. There is something strangely familiar about this girl, but Major Demolition can’t quite put his finger on it… at first.
Through the moonlight, the answer is staring back at him, that outfit and those sharp ice-cold green eyes glaring at him in defiance. Major Demolition knew this person all too well, but it’s impossible! “What?! N-no, that's not possible! You… you’re not… you’re not him! He’s dead! You can’t be…”
“You’re right for once, I can’t,” the figure agreed as she landed a spinning kick to Major Demolition’s forehead, knocking him backwards by a few feet.
The jaguar’s jaw dropped; his eyes filled with disbelief as his enemy slowly advanced towards him. “No, this can’t be happening! You’re not real! You’re not real!” Major Demolition screamed, his eyes glinting with madness. He hurled a marble-sized grenade at the figure, who deftly moved out of the explosion's radius just in time.
“You can deny it all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m bringing you down. This night will end when you’re placed behind bars… or a straitjacket in a padded cell at Duckham Asylum,” The blue-clad mallard proclaimed as she pulled out her own equivalent of a gas gun, only this one matched the color scheme of her outfit perfectly. She fired a bolt of cobalt energy at the anarchist, who dodged it at the last possible second.
“I don’t know how you came back from the grave, but there’s no way in hell that you're going to prevent me from taking down this corrupted system,” Major Demolition growled threateningly, his single eye blazing with contempt.
The blue-clad mallard blinked several times. “Corrupted system?” She repeated, scratching the back of her neck in confusion. “Seriously, I've no idea what you’re blathering on about,” She came up to Major Demolition and launched a punch directly underneath the villain's chin.
The jaguar stumbled back from the force of the blow. “You don’t see that news leading to us about the world and that corruption is feeding us communist propaganda!” He growled, wiping some blood from his lips with the back of his hand. “I sacrificed the best fifteen years of my life by fighting in the Middle East for this country only to realize that I’ve been stabbed in the back when I was dishonorably discharged by my superiors for being a ‘loose cannon’ and disobeying their orders! Well, they’re dead wrong! It’s their fault that got my brigade killed, not me! This entire city’s infected with a disease and the best treatment for it is to cleanse it with fire so it can be reforged from the ashes like a phoenix! You, the police, the politicians, and the rest of St. Canard must be destroyed so the city can be reborn!” Major Demolition ranted as he fired his weapon repeatedly, and the caped duckette barely dodged the several streams of scarlet energy.
“I can see that your psychological profile wasn’t exaggerating Major, because that might be the craziest thing I ever heard! It’s definitely the looney bin for you,” The blue-clad mallard commented as the anarchist redirected his aim and pulled the trigger repeatedly in a blind fury. He watched with surprise as the woman effortlessly backflipped several times, dodging each particle beam with dramatic flair. But with every attempt Major Demolition had made, his opponent kept dodging the scarlet blasts, determined to avoid his enemy’s attacks until his plasma cannon began to click rather than fire. The weapon’s energy cells have been depleted. He frantically reached to his belt to retrieve his marble-sized grenades, but it was too late.
Not paying as much attention as he should have, Major Demolition gave the heroic mallard an opening for a flying kick. Bringing his plasma cannon in front of him to block the blow, he was startled when his opponent vanished entirely from sight right before impact. “What the-?” He exclaimed incredulously. “Where did she-?” Looking around wildly, he was unprepared for the hard blow to the back of his head. His opponent had used a low-level teleportation spell to get behind him and land the final blow. The villain froze for a moment, then he smiled drunkenly and groaned wearily, "Rubber baby buggy bumpers..." Weakened from his enemy’s blows, Major Demolition's eyes rolled upward before he collapsed forward unconscious, the jaguar's bulky body hitting the floor with a heavy *thud!*. Just like that, the battle was over.
Within the next few moments, Major Demolition's snoring deeply as he was tied up on the floor of the Jewelry Store for the police to find. The stolen bag of money, gold, and jewelry was lying right next to the fallen villain. The mysterious heroine is gone.

An hour later, in a vacant park on the edge of the city, we found our twenty-year-old heroine now sitting quietly at the base of a monument that stood in the center of the park. She had made a quick stop at the safehouse that the government had provided her - which looked like a converted warehouse – so she could changed into fresh set of clothes. Her hair ran past her shoulders, and has one blue hairpin on the right side of her head. She wore purple lipstick on her petite bill, red oval-shaped glasses, bracelets on both of her wrists, a black tank top with a checkered pattern, a black mini-skirt, a pair of large boots that went up her calves, and a red scarf intended to protect her face from the chilly breeze. While Major Demolition was dressed for war, she didn’t. But then, she preferred fashion over function.
She didn’t considered the events that had taken place earlier that day. She felt fatigued now, and this concerned her. She will need to get some much needed sleep soon and with sleep came the dreams. The dreams of a past and a life that are not her own.
She recalled every dream so vividly, although they were a little hazy most of the time. She dreamt of battles she never fought, people she’s never met. She knew secrets that were never passed down to her. All this she saw through the eyes of another, one who no longer walked among land of the living. She recalled that he was a vigilant like her, thwarting a crime here or there. Even the memories of his confrontations with the notorious mercenary Ghost Hunter, his deceased diabolical double Negawing Duck, and Major Demolition from the earliest period of his criminal record, whom she herself had never met until that night. Yet, somehow, she knew the anarchist all too well.
More over, she saw an entire life, that is not her own, passing before her eyes in a fleeting moment. And at the end of that moment, she caught a glimpse of a utopia that awaited on the other side of Heaven... with turquoise waterfalls, and grassland as far as the eye could see. Farther, she saw mountains covered in snow. This was his fantasy, the place that he always wished existed. It was an enrapturing paradise. Her thoughts were interrupted by the whirring sound of an armored jeep hovering above the parking lot and landing fifteen feet behind her. The motor hushed, soon she heard a door opening and shutting. She never bothered to look back as the sound of scraping footsteps leaving the pavement to tread upon the soft grass, moving towards her. Soon, the footsteps stop only a few feet away from the black-clad woman. She gazed into the darkness, nonchalantly. “Hello Director Phosphorus,” she greeted in a timid tone. Only now did she lifted her eyes to look at an elderly cougar towering above her. He was sporting a high-ranking military black outfit and had a graying crew cut.
“Greetings Agent Delilah, we monitored your performance at the Jewelry Store.” He beamed proudly down at her. “Bringing down Major Demolition single-handedly was an impressive feat, considering that he’s at the top of our most wanted list.”
“Thank you very much, sir. I hardly used my magic and martial arts to take him down, although I’ve still got much to learn when it comes to sorcery and crimefighting since it’s apparent that I require more training,” the young woman bowed respectfully, trying to look polite.
The elderly cougar smiled understandingly. “That’s fine. You’ve shown great potential tonight, Delilah. You’ll be a great hero someday.”
“But I can never be him or Darkwing. You know that don’t you, sir?” Delilah sighed, softly motioning toward the statue.
Director Phosphorus gazed fondly up at the marble statue that was mounted upon the monument. “When Darkwing Duck tragically died in the final showdown against Necrowing, only then did the government realized how much we needed him. Then eleven years later, his successor - Posiwing Duck – perished after taking down the entire branch of Neo F.O.W.L. With Darkwing’s team long dead and gone, Morgana Macawber and Sonia Zimmerman disappeared without a trace, we needed a savior so badly that SHUSH attempted to create one… hence the name “Project Genesis”. By using a few feathers from the original Posiwing Duck that we extracted several months after his death, our top geneticists were able to grow those genetic materials into a full-bodied organism, thus creating you.
We were unable to retrieve any DNA samples from Darkwing, which is why we chosen your progenitor as we hoped you’d be an exact replica of his descendant. We foolishly thought we could, in a sense, bring at least one of those Masked Mallards back from the grave even if the cultivation process took decades. But now we know that can never be as it turns out that our cloning technology’s has many flaws.” He sighed, sorrow rising in his voice. “They’re gone… forever.” The SHUSH Director drew a ragged breath. “You are what you are, my girl, and you’ll continue to progress with the right amount of rigorous regimen. You have Posiwing’s DNA, Morgana Macawber’s and Darkwing’s, and it has served you well… all you can do is your best.”
“I’ll always try my best, Director Phosphorus…” She said, closing her eyes and bowing in respect once more.
“I know you will, my daughter, I know you will.” He smiled confidently, patting Delilah on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get back to the regional headquarters before somebody sees us. Heck, I’ll even treat you with rocky road ice cream on the way there since I know it’s your favorite. You still have much training ahead of you before you’re ready then we’ll assign you with a new codename, which we both know is for the best. It’s a good thing that the police wouldn’t believe Major Demolition as he will without a doubt be soon spouting tall tales of your progenitor’s ghost haunting the city since there are no such things. There’s a good chance that nutcase will probably be carted off to Duckham Asylum for a good portion of his life instead of prison. I know I won’t lose any sleep over it, that’s for sure, as it means it's one less megalomaniac causing troubles and a lot of citizens will be sleeping better tonight."
The elderly cougar winked knowingly before he turned and started towards the hover-craft. The young mallard smirked, shaking her head in amusement and standing to her feet. She looked up at the statue thoughtfully. She studied the carved granite figure of a duck in a purple, pink and gray costume and mask, complete with cape and fedora. She lowered her gaze to the inscription etched in the pedestal. She could not read the words in the darkness, no matter she knew them by heart: “In Honor of Darkwing Duck, Launchpad McQuack, Quiverwing Quack, Magnesium Mallard, and Posiwing Duck. St. Canard’s True Heroes. We will never forget you and your team, the Terrors That Flaps In The Night.” Delilah swallowed hard, feeling a lump rising in the back of her throat. She carried more than just Posiwing’s DNA with her. She carried his memories, even unto death and beyond. The torch has been passed down to her, and soon a new Masked Mallard with a different name will rise to defend St. Canard from threats like Ghost Hunter, Major Demolition, and many others that might threaten her beloved city in the foreseeable future.
Delilah recalled Posiwing’s final moments in this life after he took down Neo F.O.W.L. with everything he had, despite the fact he was at a great disadvantage when his arsenal malfunctioned. Inside Neo F.O.W.L.'s central command, bodies of Eggmen, Agents and the Dark Legion - General Marcus, Kleiser, Caibon, Timsu and Beelo - lay strewn about as they were either unconscious or in great pain. Posiwing himself was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, having sustaining internal bleeding and severe injuries from the brutal battle against the Dark Legion supervillain mercenaries. Despite being heavily battered and his body broken, the young man wasn’t afraid in the slightest. Ever since he first donned the cape and mask he knew of the risks that came with the job that he signed up for. He had always known that death is a common thing, even when it happens, life must move on. Still those who remember the dead will forever carry a part of them. However, he felt concerned for the loved ones he leaves behind. Mostly of his family, his wife Bianca, his daughters and son, and hoping that they will find happiness in their lives, ones they will have to live without him. But in that fleeting moment as Posiwing crossed over into the afterlife, he had one last plea from the heart, “Please, don’t forget me.”
“Wherever you are right now Darkwing and Posiwing Ducks, I hope that you can see this and I hope you know… you both and the rest of our family are remembered and your legacy will live forever. I swear I will do whatever it takes to defend St. Canard.” She vowed, a determined look resting on her features.

The End

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  There Was No One Left to Speak Out
Posted by: Ghost Cat - 04-06-2020, 12:59 AM - Forum: Fanfiction - No Replies

There Was No One Left to Speak Out

Summary: It was an end of an era and being a vampiress, Sonia Zimmerman knew that she would eventually outlived them all, the closest people she considered as her family.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any characters in this story that are associated with Darkwing Duck, except for my vampire OC “Sonia Zimmerman”, “Posiwing Duck” , “Negawing/Necrowing Duck” , "Ghost Cat", "Unknown" and several others back from my old role-playing days between 2011-12. Although not exactly a hero herself as she considers herself to be an “outcast”, Sonia would occasionally aided Darkwing’s gang and constantly rages an internal war with herself to retain her humanity so she wouldn’t be overcame by her vampiric feral nature. This story was also written with the lyrics of "Gone Away" by the rock bands The Offspring and Five Finger Death Punch. Anyway, relax, sit back, and enjoy this bittersweet story.
(Maybe in another life...
I could find you there...
Pulled away before your time...
I can't deal, it's so unfair...)

Just like that, it was over. Posiwing Duck was killed five years ago, and his death marked the end of an era. His demise - like the others - was unfair since his life was tragically cut short, but unfortunately that's the grim part of life sometimes. A large bat flew down from the sky and glided through the single window at the top of Audubon Bay Bridge's northwestern tower. It flapped its wings against the frigid breeze as it hovered in midair for a few moments, as if it was carefully analyzing its surroundings. Without warning, the creature began metamorphizing, assuming its natural form. From what used to be a bat, now stood a duck woman in dark clothing. The woman frowned as she looked around in her new environment, then brushed some of her black hair out of her eyes. "So, this is Darkwing Tower?" She asked to no one in particular with an Hungarian accent. "Has it really been over eight years? It seems like ages since I've last been here." She sighed, shoulders slumping. "I knew that I'd eventually outlived them all... all the closest people I considered as my family, which is why I've always hated being a vampire. I had better carry on with my task and take my leave soon before daylight arrives."

This woman, Sonia Zimmerman, as known as “Nightingale”, knew that time was of the essence as she made a promise to fulfill an important mission that Posiwing’s parents pleaded her to on the fifth year anniversary of their son’s death. They requested her assistance so they could find closure before moving on with their lives and Sonia had no intention of letting them down since it was the least she could do for them. She was a curly female duck, tall and thin as a European supermodel, with a mane of flowing black hair that framed her beautiful face and her bangs covered her left eye, a stunning symmetry of ice-cold radiant yellow eyes, sharp pointed nose, a black star over her left eye, and her beak lips painted crimson. She wore a strapless, black velvet dress, with three zippers running down the front where there were bloodred colored words that were written on the front that read, "This isn't my blood". The non-decorative fastener was zipped down a fifth of the way, to make space for her large bustline; though her modesty was preserved by the purple tank top she wore underneath. A golden cross was attached to a matching chain that wrapped around her neck. Her lengthy sleek legs are emphasized by her fishnet stockings and her shoes were thigh-high black leather boots that matched her dress.

Darkwing Tower was half-washed in harsh florescent light, revealing a carved platform, one that had once been rough but had been smoothed over by the steps of those who carried the world upon their shoulders. A large computer sat across from those platform, the dim light of the stand-by mode revealing more of the tower. On the same wall of the platform were items that belonged in a history museum, items that would, hopefully, never see the light of day again. Hopefully, Megavolt's Tron-Splitter would stay off, hidden under glass. Hopefully, the red and purple colored court jester outfit with a harlequin hat would forever stay behind the creepy mechanical banana-headed doll, never to be used again. She prayed that whatever gods will listen that the deactivated orange and black cybernetic bull would remain inoperable within the cryogenic container, never to terrorize another living soul in his hellbent quest for vengeance ever again.
The biggest hope, though, she thought, staring at the wall of costumes, was that the costumes would never been taken from their homes in the glass. The biggest hope was that the world had progressed enough to never again need Darkwing Duck or Launchpad McQuack or Quiverwing Quack or Magnesium Mallard or even Posiwing Duck. That was her biggest hope, her biggest wish.

(And it feels... 
And it feels like... 
Heaven's so far away... 
And it feels... 
Yeah, it feels like... 
The world has grown cold... 
Now that you've gone away...)
With a sigh of regret, Sonia turned towards the computer she stood in front of. A hand reached out, and after a long beat, a slim finger touched one of the various buttons of the keyboard. The computer gave a beep, then asked whether she was sure she wanted to shut it off. The computer itself hadn't seen the restful stage of 'shut down' since its original assembly. It had been on stand-by, and even in hibernation when Darkwing had retired, but it had never actually been off since... well, suffice to say, the computer hadn't been off in a very long time. 
Next, the immortal vampiress glided over to the wall of 'trophies', as Darkwing had once termed it. Darkwing had always claimed that he kept the tokens to make sure the deadliest weapons never fell into another's hands, whether government or supervillain or superhero. Magnesium Mallard (or Honker Muddlefoot, as the vampiress still secretly referred to him in the back of her mind – he had been, after all, been like a son to Darkwing and Quiverwing’s husband, when you think back on how much it was astonishing that Honker progressed when he started off as Arrow Kid at the age of nine-years-old until he developed an advanced mechanical suit in his early twenties) had told Sonia, though, that his mentor had really just needed something that reminded him of why he fought. Sonia wasn't sure who was right, but she suspected that, in their own ways, they were all probably correct.
The vampiress examined a large display case carefully. It contained a massive suit of powerful, diamond like red armor plating that once completely surrounded its former user's body. The face would have been hidden by a helmet designed like a dragon's jaws and above them on top of the helmet were two diamonds for the eye pieces. The dragon armor had a black strap on its back that held a long, bone shaped katana littered with mystical green words that were written as Frigus Mortis (Translation: Cold Death} and a pitch-black handle. The boots had high red shingle-like plating over the knees, and the shoes had dragon like claw toenails on the front of the shoe. Overall, it seemed that the armor belonged to an ancient samurai while it actually belonged to a notorious Fire Demon warmonger warlock and Negawing Duck's half-brother... Draco Macawber (aka "The Crimson Dragon" as the media had dubbed him at that time). 

Sonia recalled this disaster as if it only happened yesterday and not fifteen years ago. When Negawing's death had finally reached his ears in the capital of his empire in Hong Kong, Draco had gathered his forces and traveled across the world to St. Canard. Several months later, the warlock laid siege to the city in his ferocious quest to restore his clan's honor with his elite forces of mythical monsters and leveled St. Canard to ruins. Fortunately, Posiwing, Sonia, and the other heroes had joined forces and defeated the army after a brutal battle while SHUSH Agents and the police evacuated the pedestrians, but the warlord had then decided to handle the invasion personally. Initially, the heroes and villain are a fairly even match (much to the warlock's mild annoyance); Draco then understood how they gave his half-brother so much trouble. He informed them that he had a strong sibling rivalry with Negawing and even went as far to admit that if he would have killed him sooner had it not been for the matriarch of their clan, Malicia Macawber; this implied that Draco was planning on killing Negawing before his final confrontation with Posiwing, and desired to kill Posiwing mostly for robbing him of his chance of doing so, rather than family matters.

Draco had then unveiled his triumph card: a demonic transformation that he had found by investigating the tombs of one of his ancestors... the secrets of the ancient Macawber rulers and he leant exactly how to unlock it. His face evolved into a fanged snout and his hands curved into sharp talons. A pair of dark maroon wings sprouted from his back, wreathed in black flames, while armor melted into his skin, morphing into ruby-black scales and his eyes were now two glowing yellow slits. The whole evolution was complete in no more than an entire minute and Draco resembled a humanoid black-scaled dragon with a triple-spiked tail. The warlock had referred to it as "The Armored Emperor" form, with power surpassing his half-brother's vampiric form. Reinvigorated, Draco launched an overwhelming counteroffensive and had easily brought Posiwing, Sonia, and the other defenders to their knees with his terrifying might.

It was one of the darkest days of St. Canard's history when the battered and defeated heroes laid strewn across the cracked streets, on the cusp of death. It seemed that all hope was lost and that Draco would have succeeded where Negawing failed until a young rabbit waitress named "Bianca" was injured in her attempt to protect Posiwing. This selfless action had greatly enraged Posiwing and awakened an dormant mystical power within him. He and Draco faced off and eventually, after a difficult battle, the magically empowered Posiwing got the battle under his control, delivering a final momentous blow to the warlock that symbolically ended Draco's tyranny as the villain's body could no longer handled his "Armored Emperor" form for very long. Humiliated and driven back into a corner, Draco refused to relent, attacking Posiwing even as he was losing strength rapidly and threatened to kill the hero's vulnerable friends with by generating two massive waves of yellow and black lightning from his claws while they were semi-conscious. This reaction caused Posiwing to conjured an enormous stream of powerful radiant light with all of his might that had finally vanquished Draco, disintegrating the horrified draconian warlord entirely and ending the battle. In the aftermath, the only one thing left that remained of the warlock was his smoking armor.

It was another close call for the heroes. One that forced Sonia to permanently resigned from her alter ego as "Nightingale". When he was asked by the reporters about his hidden powers Posiwing had responded with; "I've honestly no idea how I harnessed that much magic in the first place. Maybe it's because of my own direct bloodline to the Macawber clan or maybe it was because of something else, but I'm glad that it worked. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to stopped Draco from carrying out his vengeance. Something tells me that was a 'once in a lifetime' sort of deal and I can never wield that kind of magic again. It's probably for the best. The only thing that matters to me is protecting those closest to me by any means possible."

Sonia took a deep breath and extended her hand. Her head slowly turned and she faced the large panel on the wall. It glowed black for a mere second, then, one by one, the lights turned off. Mr. Banana Brain 2.0 was the first one – the light under it's case, the light that had burned so bright and shone so long, flickered off. Quackerjack’s suit was next, then the Tron-Splitter, followed by the original F.O.W.L.'s chief Agent Steelbeak's perfectly pressed white suit with black slacks, and then Taurus Bulba's cryogenic container. The former world's deadliest assassin Ghost Cat's cloaking belt and his twin katanas vanished into the shadows hopefully never to be used to slain people in cold blood, followed by Draco's scarlet samurai armor, then the crimelord Unknown's fractured bronze mask, next a half-empty vial of mutagen that granted Shadow Wolf his deadly werewolf transformation, a trio of red armbands that were worn by the Red Armed Gang, Brain Twister's golden cane and lime green mask, a black stainless steel urn containing Nightshade's (Negaversion-Sonia) ashes, the five sets of Roman-esque centurion inspired power armor that once belonged to the infamous mercenary/supervillain group known as the "Dark Legion", and then Negawing's black, red and yellow outfit and portable multi-barreled Gatling laser gun disappeared into the darkness. Finally, a canister of radioactivity went dark, and then the self-styled Demon Queen of St. Canard Malicia Macawber's seductive green dress followed (Sonia always was impressed that the duckubus has a peculiar sense of fashion, unlike the other members of the rogues gallery); Negaduck’s ominous bloodstained chainsaw, one of the many weapons of mass destructions that he had kept on his person until his death, slowly lost it's light and fell into darkness, finally joining the other artifacts in silence.

(Leaving flowers on your grave... 
Show that I still care... 
But Black Roses and Hail Mary's... 
I can't bring back what's taken from me...)

Sonia made her way towards the costumes, the florescent lights turning off in her wake. The entire tower was dark when she reached the glass booths, with the only light from said cases. She wasn't sure why, but she ended up in front of Quiverwing Quack’s costume first. Gosalyn Mallard/Waddlemeyer was the first, and only, woman to ever wear this suit. She'd started at a nine-years-old and swung from buildings and fought beside the Masked Mallard until she was twenty. Then she was shot – Negaduck took her alter identity that night, leaving her known as Gosalyn Mallard, daughter of (and successor) of mild-mannered Drake Mallard. She became incapacitated and she and her family were forced to travelled across South America to enlisted the aid of a physical therapist to rehabilitated her while Negaduck and the rest of the Fearsome Five assumed control of St. Canard’s underworld and took over several illegal operations within it. Drake and the gang found the doctor, however it led to a third encounter with Taurus Bulba (who was trying to use a mystical artifact to restore his organic form.) Fortunately, Bulba was defeated and the doctor was grateful that Darkwing and the others’ valiant heroics that saved her life and agreed to healed Gosalyn, although it took ten excruciatingly months. 

Eventually, Darkwing and his companions returned to St. Canard and barely defeated the Fearsome Five - with the help of the Justice Ducks and "Nightingale" that D.W. summoned - atop St. Canard after a protracted battle. However, Negaduck refused to be escorted to the authorities and activated an “insurance policy”: several grenades that were hidden under his coat that detonated, killing him in the process while Darkwing, his team the police and the battered Fearsome Four had barely escaped with their lives. It was certainly a close call that Sonia hasn't forgotten any time soon since she came very close to dying. Gosalyn had, of course, retaken up the Crimson Quackette mantle for a while (since Quiverwing’s “death” was broadcasted all over the news and social media outlets by Negaduck), but after a series of fierce arguments with her father… well, let's say that it didn't ended well.
Sonia reached out and touched the smooth, cool glass. The lights along the case gave a loud boom, then went out, one by one. Finally, the top light was extinguished, and the last thing the world saw of Quiverwing was the empty eyes that had once belonged to a little girl who'd fought so hard, so very hard, for a city that would soon forget her. 

The next case that Sonia stood in front of was Magnesium Mallard. Honker's costume was a black under-suit that had covered over his stomach, arms, legs, and neck, while everything else was left shielded by polished golden armor plating. He'd worn a blue-glass visor, giving off a faint glow that still illuminated the tower's darkness. He'd been the fourth to go, after the avian aviator known as Launchpad, his wife and Darkwing, but before Posiwing Duck. He hadn't truly been Magnesium, or maybe Magnesium hadn't really been Magnesium. Sonia had always secretly thought that Magnesium Mallard was the alter-ego of Arrow Kid, not the alter-ego of Honker Muddlefoot. In fact, the vampiress mused, Honker Muddlefoot was the true alter-ego of Arrow Kid, whose alter-ego was Magnesium Mallard. After so many years behind the cowl, Honker had stopped being ‘Honk’ and started being ‘Arrow Kid who pretended to be Honker who pretended to be Magnesium’. Still, Magnesium did belong in the case. Despite his timidity, he'd been a hero, and a pretty damned good one, no matter how hard he'd been pretending to be who he wasn't. He'd died a heroic death, having prevented Ghost Hunter from massacring a small town in South Korea at the age of seventy-five and sacrificed himself for his deeds.
The lights went at the same slow rate, and the slate-gray and beige colored 'MM' insignia was the last to go, giving Sonia one last look at her late friend’s preferred symbol. 

(I reach out to the sky... 
And call out your name... 
Oh, please let me trade... 
I would...)

The next costume to go dark would be Darkwing Duck. He'd been the greatest, the best of them all, though Sonia would always say that Magnesium Mallard was better. Darkwing had hid behind the name of Drake Mallard, and done more for St. Canard, and the world, as both than some people could dream of doing. Darkwing was vainglorious and arrogant, but there was definitely no question that he was self-righteous. He'd saved the world, inspired generations of heroes, defeated villains, and so, so much more. His death had been heroic, as well. Fifteen years ago at the age of ninety-four, he'd jumped into his mechanical ‘Darkwarrior’ battle armor and helped his grandson, Posiwing Duck, whose archenemy and terrible twin - Negawing Duck - had became a vampire. Negawing had cleverly manipulated Sonia’s un-beating heart by winning over her affection, renamed himself as “Necrowing” and ruled the city with an iron fist with an army of the vampires - infected St. Canard's civilians - backing him up. Recognizing the grave danger that befallen St. Canard as she had unintentionally created herself, Sonia had successfully convinced both Darkwing and Posiwing to assist them. Like something out of a graphic novel, the three heroes joined forces and together they rushed over to Necrowing’s lair with their anti-vampirism vaccine and arsenal of weapons, defeating and curing all his victims in the catacombs beneath St. Canard Cemetery. Unfortunately they ran out of the vaccine, and Necrowing still opposed a major threat to them. The Masked Mallards and the Hungarian vampiress lured Necrowing into the Tower where the heroes would have the advantages over the vampire. It was a risky gambit, but the heroes were very desperate to stop him.

However, their plan began unraveling when Necrowing had easily overwhelmed this enemies with his incredible might, and keeps to his word to make sure that Darkwing and Posiwing suffers for bringing shame to his family's legacy, by attacking the heroes with brutal bone-breaking techniques and dark energy blasts, almost bringing them to death, until at length he grew tired of the battle and felt that his ancestor Negaduck had further shamed his family by dying at Darkwing's hand. Finally becoming desperate, Posiwing activated a last-ditch effort, which had been a prototype solar energy machine developed by S.H.U.S.H. Off-guard and already claiming victory for himself, Necrowing dismissed the threat as a fool's errand until he was struck with the sunlight that was stored within the device and was overpowered; he realized how Negaduck lost to Darkwing in his final moments and he wound up paying the price of arrogance with his own life. Shrieking in a mixture outrage and anguish, he was then incinerated by the artificial sunlight, reducing him to a pile of ashes and bones. It was a harrowing battle, however the swords of justice pierced the denizens of darkness triumphantly once more, except this time with a tremendous price.
Unfortunately, Darkwing had sacrificed his life during the battle when he succumbed to his horrible lacerations, or rather, the life of Drake Mallard. Really, though, when Sonia thought about it, Darkwing had never really been the same after Gosalyn died at the age of fifty-one from natural causes as he’d been dead and just hadn't known it, and had been that way since he'd hung up his cape and mask. He'd become Darkwing Duck, and Drake had been the true mask.
Shortly after Drake Mallard’s funeral, Morgana had summoned the rest of her family and Sonia to her mansion so she could informed them that she was permanently leaving St. Canard. She offered no explanation for that either and was not heard from since. Morgana's family and the vampiress assumed that she went somewhere to start a new life in Transylvania. It’s time, Sonia thought, as the lights went out slowly, ever so slowly, for the purple, pink and gray outfit to return to the darkness, to join the wearer.
(And it feels... 
And it feels like... 
Heaven's so far away... 
And it stings...
Yeah, it stings now... 
The world is so cold...
Now that you've gone away...)

The Hungarian vampiress made her way to Posiwing Duck, to Dustin Mallard, the biological grandson of Drake and Morgana Mallard. He'd probably been the only one who'd managed what every superhero had wanted; Dustin had a rabbit wife named Bianca, one who'd proceeded her husband to the grave by three years as she passed away from a broken heart. He'd also had three fraternal half-breed triplets, two girls and a boy. They were grown now, and had been sixteen when they'd found out their father, still relatively young himself at the age of thirty-seven, had been found in the morgue. He'd mysteriously appeared there, arms folded across his chest, his taser gun clutched tightly in his right hand. He'd died of internal bleeding, but had taken down the entire Neo F.O.W.L. - a criminal organization - with a defective arsenal, still mourning for his grandfather and mentor.
The blue mask glared out at her, slowly fading to darkness as the night flickered. The last Sonia would ever see of Posiwing Duck was that navy blue and ivory white outfit, the one that she'd scoffed at so many years for having no creativity since it adorned an uncanny resemblance to Darkwing's uniform, but she knew that Posiwing was just as valiant as Darkwing and the others were.

(Gone away... 
Gone away... 
Yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah... 
Launchpad McQuack was, of course, the last member of the original group that had started all of this when Darkwing accidentally crashed into his hangar during his first initial encounter with Taurus Bulba's henchmen  – had died as an old man at the age of eighty-two in a peaceful sleep twenty-eight years ago, surrounded by his sister Loopy McQuack, her descendants, Drake, Morgana, a fourteen-year-old Dustin, Dustin’s parents (Soleil McKnight and Dracon Mallard), Honker, Gosalyn, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webbigail, Doofus, and Sonia herself. Three days later, his body was cremated and his sister took off from the airfield at Duckburg in her specially prepared aircraft. She had his ashes scattered into the Atlantic Ocean to honored his final request. It was a fitting end for a skilled pilot of his caliber.

(I reach out to the sky... 
And call out your name... 
Oh, please let me trade... 
I would...)
Instead of automatically turning off the light, Sonia reached out and through the case as her vampiric senses detected something. Her hand, intangible, reached and opened the case to the bomber flight jacket. Then she realized that she felt an object was hidden inside it and gingerly pulled out a yellow paper out of the box. She was surprised when she discovered it was actually a picture. Looking at the brittle picture, her jaw slackened. What had to be Gosalyn as a ten-year-old girl with fiery red pigtails, held by her adoptive father Drake Mallard, took up one half of the picture, while Launchpad McQuack stood with his hand on the shoulders of Morgana. It was an ideal picture of a perfect family, if a little abnormal. This is… it has to be. It’s his surrogate family. This must be one of the very few personal belongings that he had left behind, the vampiress thought sullenly to herself while a tear fell down her face silently.
Her friends – the closest people she had to as a family since her eight-year-old Amsel died back in 1904 from a terrible illness and her husband passed away in early May 1915 during the Second Battle of Ypres in the first World War - had been gone for a long time, but the wound, both mental and emotion, was, and forever would be, still raw. A small content smile was playing on her soft red lips at the sight of the cheerful faces beaming brightly  back at her from the aged picture. She sighed dejectedly while she put the picture back inside the pocket from where she found it, then the lights flickered off, and Sonia watched as the brown-and-cream aviator uniform, flight cap and goggles went black for the last time.

(And it feels... 
And it feels like... 
Heaven's so far away... 
And it stings... 
Yeah, it stings now... 
The world is so cold...
Now that you've gone away...)

Dark wings surrounded her in the derelict bridge tower, Sonia's body shimmered for a moment and then where she had been a bat was fluttering into the night as her mission was completed, leaving a single non-vampire bat to screech in her wake and the single hope that there would never be another need for these heroes. There was no one left to speak out for the fallen.
The time of superheroes was over.

(Gone away... 
Gone away... 
Yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah... 

The End

End Note: It's been close to eight years since I've last completed a story, and I got to admit that writing this project was... rather [i]exhilarating. This chronicle was dedicated to the memory of one of my favorite childhood shows, Darkwing Duck, and to my old friends of the Old Haunt. I imagine that reading this story might be lost less pleasant than you might have anticipated, but then growing up is often unhappy and one has to take the bad mixed in with the good. For example, Sonia’s life is full of hardships and tragedies, but she strives to live so she could preserve the memories of her friends and family. This is technically a one-shot for now but if the inspiration strikes me I might write a full-fledged story, probably detailing an account of Darkwing, Gosalyn’s, and the others’ adventures that took place after the series ended and led up to the events of this story. Let me know what you think.[/i]

I know that some people might think that hope is gone ever since the Coronavirus pandemic had happened a few months ago and affected the entire world. But they're wrong. Hope's still there. And we shouldn’t lose hope because of this threat. I think America - and the rest of the world for that matter -  - will rise up, stronger than before now that one of our weakness has been shown to us – arrogance and prejudice. The great fall of every hero. The people living in the countries throughout the world are such heroes, but unlike others, this is not the end. Our crisis gave us a brand new perspective, therefore new hope. Peace, boys and girls and keep praying. God hears your prayer, wherever you believe in Him or not. I’m praying for anyone who's suffering personally at the hands of this pandemic. May hope come back to us soon, God bless you all and God bless America!

Before we depart company from each other, here’s a few fun facts in store for you. (#1) Magnesium Mallard is, of course, a not-so-subtle tribute to Iron Man. (#2) Quiverwing getting shot is an homage to the famous DC Novels “Knightfall” and “The Killing Joke”, although there is no Azrael parody involved and Gosalyn eventually made a full recovery, but was forced to leave the nest due to a series of fierce arguments she had with Darkwing. (#3) Taurus Bulba’s scheme is a reference to one of the “lost episodes” that someone once informed me on the Old Haunt, although I’ve long since forgotten the title of the episode. (#4) Gosalyn’s demise is a tragic reference to her voice actress, Christine Cavanuagh, who unfortunately passed away back in December 22, 2014. May she rest in peace. (#5) Soleil Mallard is a nod to Circus Soleil, my family and I were traveling to see them last year until we discovered that they cancelled the show when one of heir performers died. May he also rest in peace. (#6) Draco Macawber was an unused OC that I created back in 2014-15. Initially, I had intended for him to be an antagonist of a RPG plot that I planned to work on with Malicia with the idea her OC Lyra and my OC Negawing being the main characters with Draco seeking vengeance against his half-brother for disgracing their family's pride, but Mal declined. I respected her wishes and the concept with Draco was shelved until I partially brought it back for this story with the warlock going after Posiwing instead of Negs. I only regretted not creating the character much sooner, otherwise I'd probably done a fun three-way battle between him, Negawing and Negaduck13's OC Nega-Night. Speaking of which... Negawing's and Draco are about evenly matched in their normal forms, I believe he would have been overwhelmed by Draco if the warlock was given the chance to transformed. (#7) And last, but not least, the title is a reference to a poem named “First they came…” which was written by Rev. Martin Niemoller in 1945. He was put in a concentration camp from 1939 to 1945 for speaking out against the Nazi regime. The poem was a form of a prose post-war confession and it was about the cowardice of German intellectuals and certain clergy (including, by his own admission, [i]Niemoller himself) following the Nazis' rise to power and subsequent incremental purging of their own chosen targets, group after group until the fascist regime's own inevitable downfall.[/i]
Anyway, fun fact session is over and I believe that's enough for today. I wish you an excellent day. Stay home, stay safe, take care of yourselves and we will endure this crisis together.  Dwcape

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  Returning Member here. Hey!
Posted by: Celey - 06-03-2019, 01:40 AM - Forum: Negaduck's N00b 101 - Replies (2)

Wow... it's been a long time. A LONG TIME. Nice to see this place is still up and running! So, how long has it been, you might be asking? Well, I did a quick looksie - I joined the forum back in 2010 (so, almost a decade ago! Huh!) and my last post was in 2012. So... about 7 years ago? Huh. That's... that's a long time. I feel... old? Or maybe like that scary movie monster whose hand breaks out of the dirt in front of their supposed gravestone?

(Also, I feel like I should add a disclaimer and say that a person can change a lot in 7 years! Cause literally I can't remember what all I've posted on here, but I do remember having some odd stuff going on in my history, and I feel like I've grown as a person since then? Although, I think I am still pretty friendly and of course very into Darkwing Duck. And I'm really enjoying the new Duck Tales!)

Also, I'm extremely surprised I remembered my password... Wow.

Anyway, hello all!

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  Ducktale The Duck Knight Returns Ending! Spoiler Alert!
Posted by: NegsyIsTheBest - 05-24-2019, 03:06 AM - Forum: DuckTales 2017 - No Replies

Do not read if you have not seen the latest episode of Ducktales: The Duck Knight Returns!

What did all you Darkwing fans think of Negaduck's surprise appearance in the end?! I totally flipped out and knew that was Negs early in the show, from the eyes when he was punching the actor into the closet and then when "Darkwing" pulled out the iconic chainsaw Negaduck uses. How the hell did Launchpad not even recognize that Negs anyway? I guess he's never been the most highly intellectual duck. Rather a pilot with a habit of crashing planes. BTW: I saw the episode after it came out on Saturday earlier this month!

Let me know!

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  Episode Discussion: The Duck Knight Returns!
Posted by: Malicia - 05-23-2019, 11:25 PM - Forum: DuckTales 2017 - Replies (2)

Figured I'd start a thread for anyone who wants to discuss S02E16 since it was quite a large episode and a special one for DW! What did you guys think?

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Question Darkwing Duck being popular in Russia?
Posted by: Daffytitanic - 05-04-2019, 12:03 AM - Forum: Duck Talk - Replies (7)

I was fiddling around with Google Trends. I compared how much Oswald the Lucky Rabbit and Darkwing Duck were searched from 2004 to today. What I uncovered was quite interesting for me to share.

When I looked at worldwide, Oswald was searched a lot in Japan, Brazil, Mexico, and other South American countries. I thought it seemed to make sense because Oswald did have some comics from South America and, he was in Japan before 2006 at Universal. But, Darkwing Duck, it turned out that it's searched far more in Russia than any other country in the past 15 years. So, Oswald is well known and popular in Japan but, Darkwing Duck seems popular in Russia.,%2Fm%2F0jbwq

You can see some of the information listed here. But, why does Darkwing Duck have a great presence in Russia of all places?

I like to hear some of your theories or explanations of why Darkwing is searched more in Russia than anywhere else.

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Posted by: NegsyIsTheBest - 05-02-2019, 05:06 PM - Forum: Negaduck's N00b 101 - Replies (2)

Hello one and all. Thought I'd like to give my hello to this group. I've always like Darkwing Duck though I have to confess I never watched the show growing up so looking back in my life it was a bummer. Yet however, I am glad I've gotten to know about the show later in my life and I honestly think Negaduck is the most kick ass villain out there!

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  Need Help Logging In to Duckverse
Posted by: NegsyIsTheBest - 05-02-2019, 02:38 PM - Forum: The Bar - No Replies

Hello everyone! I am having some difficulty logging in to the other site duckverse. I registered, made a username, password, used my email, but I cannot login to my account and I have checked my email for the link to validate my email so I can complete the registration. I am being sent links to validate my email, however, the links are not appearing in my inbox on email account so I am unable to register. Anyone have any help or ideas? Thanks!

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  New Member
Posted by: NegsyIsTheBest - 05-02-2019, 02:27 PM - Forum: The Bar - No Replies

Hey everyone! Just wanted to say hello to all the new members and senior members of this amazing forum and website. I'm just a new member today as a few minuets ago and I'm already loving this place. I've known about Darkwing Duck and been a fan yet I have to admit I never once thought to see if there was any official website to which there isn't but I'm glad to have come across this place. I honestly wish I had known about this place sooner but either way, I am glad to be a new member of this community!

Best of luck to all! Let's get dangerous!


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  Pharaoh-Ink's Duck Doodles
Posted by: Pharaoh-Ink - 12-04-2018, 09:39 PM - Forum: Art - Replies (3)

I've been drawing Disney ducks continuously for about a year now, so in this thread you'll see an array of ducks ranging from 'hey, he looks pretty handsome' to 'that bill is not Tad approved!'

It's been fun regardless. I love these characters a lot and I don't think I'll be stopping anytime soon. :D

Here are some various Quackerjacks. Quackerjack2

I liked drawing coffee Drake, such a mood.

Some character designs from my Nutcracker AU, in which the cast of DWD just act out the Nutcracker. If you want to read about the full story idea, it's here:

The rest of the Nutcracker AU cast.

A few OC's and fan-characters.

More OC work.

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