New Year's Bash

Fenton Crackshell opted for a hotel on his latest visit to St. Canard, a city that not only never slept due to their infamous coffee chains, but was also home to a great deal of crime considered off limits to any other hero than the self proclaimed terror who flapped in the night. He tried to stay out of the other's way, but he was never one for claiming territories. Crime was crime, and he couldn't turn a blind eye to it so that the attention hog could have his moment in the papers. With heroism came great responsibility!
 
He'd try to have a good time, and hopefully nothing would happen. Still, he kept his suit on him, just in case.
 
He was supposed to meet Launchpad to ring in the New Year, who would inevitably bring Drake Mallard with him. Fenton tried to be friendly for Launchpad's sake, but it was hard getting along with Drake, the sourpuss was always complaining about something or other. Still, he had a lot of experience with grumps, namely his boss, whom he still held great respect and admiration for.
    • The Raven
      The Raven

      "C'mon, DW! It'll be fun!" That's what Launchpad always said. "It'll be fun." It would be fun to stuff their bills at Hamburger Hippo; or the put-put golf course; or - shudder - bowling. But it wasn't fun, it was tedious, and why his sidekick insisted on dragging him to these stupid events was beyond him.

      Tonight was at least adult oriented - drinks at the Grand Hotel de Canard to ring in the New Year; of course, it was only 8 o'clock. This was supposed to be the tame beginning to a night of festivities, which usually culminated in the annual Ball Drop in the city's central plaza. Drake's idea of a New Year was Gosalyn persuading him to allow her to stay up late; eating too much junk food and sparkling apple juice; and then the both of them falling asleep well before midnight on the couch, while the Ball Drop played on harmlessly on the TV screen.

      "You never go out - well, uh, except for work," LP had admonished. "You gotta be around people sometime!" That was easy for Launchpad - he liked people. Drake didn't. He still didn't even really know why his only friend....liked him.

      The other reason made Drake even more reluctant: Fenton Crackshell. Again, not his idea of a good time. The accountant was annoying, shoved his beak into everything, was completely clueless, an absolute dingus and a dweeb, and had terrible taste in heroes.

      But Launchpad was excited for his friend's visit. "Mr. McDuck hardly ever sends Fenton to St. Canard for work! Isn't this great?"

      "Swell."

      But despite all his moaning and whining, Drake still found himself being dragged through the front door to the hotel lobby, where Mr. Crackshell promised to wait for them. "Fenton, old buddy!" The stub of Launchpad's tail was wagging in delight.

      • Red Nova
        Red Nova
        "Launchpad!" Fenton approached with a bright laugh, reaching out to clasp his hand in their own personal brand of handshake, and he clapped him on the arm. "Long time no see, eh? Glad you could make it here tonight, it's gonna be a real blast!"
         
        His eyes drifted to settle on the shorter mallard beside the pilot, and he reached out to grab Drake's hand, giving it a hearty shake. "Nice t' see ya again, Drake-a-rooney! I see Launchpad was able to drag you out to tonight's festivities! Hope it wasn't too much of a fight, haha!"
        • The Raven
          The Raven

          Drake could already feel his temperature rising. What was it with guys like Fenton or Herb Muddlefoot? Drake was such a simple, straight forward name - it was a name at all, unlike the nonsense those two were always spewing. He tried to pull his hand free of Fenton's grasp, but it was firmer than anticipated. "Don't call me-" Oooooh! He tried to swallow his temper. "Not at all, Fentonino....I did have a lot of other pressing engagements, I probably can't stay long-"

          "Sure you can, Drake!" Launchpad helpfully chimed in. "Gosalyn told me you didn't have anything else going on!"

          Through gritted teeth, he muttered: "Oh, she did, did she?" She was absolutely doing this on purpose, and he was going to take back some of her Christmas presents.

          • Red Nova
            Red Nova
            "Aw, how is that kiddo anywho? I hope she liked the Gizmoduck poster I had personally signed for her. I know she's a big fan!" He released Drake's hand and chuckled. "Come on, let's head over to the lounge area, it's real nice! Mr. McDuck would probably love it, it's fancy."
             
            He pulled at his collar. "'Course, he'd like it even better if he wasn't paying for any drinks, haha!"
             
            Leading them away from the hustle and bustle of the lobby, he gestured for them to follow him to the bar and lounge area, classy, dark color schemes, and perfect for St. Canard's broody and sometimes narcissistic heroes, should those type ever swing by.
            • The Raven
              The Raven

              Gosalyn had enjoyed the poster for the ten whole seconds she was allowed to have it. Drake resisted every instinct not to crush it into a ball, stomp on it, and stuff it into the fireplace; he instead locked it in his closet and said "You can have it when you're eighteen and an adult and can make your own decisions about these kinds of things," which she had said was "way unfair!" but that was what being a parent was all about, wasn't it?

              "Yeah....didn't realize you were such a well connected guy." Drake hoped his stare was a thousand yards. Five hundred, at least.

              The bar elicited within him that familiar feeling of I want that and I don't belong here. It wasn't that he didn't deserve such luxurious settings as the hotel bar; it was that deep within his id, there was the nagging reminder that this was well above his paygrade. We never escape the voices that made us small in our youth, even when we put on a mask and make ourselves ten times larger than before. Drake ordered a cognac anyway and LP was fine and not at all self-conscious ordering a simple rum and coke.

              "So, Fenton....what does Mr. McDuck have you doing in St. Canard?"

              • Red Nova
                Red Nova
                Fenton situated himself contently, perking up at the question. "Ohhhh, well, you know Mr. McDuck! He has his hands in all sorts of dealings and investments...he just likes to make sure of where his money's going...the usual sort of accountant stuff, haha! Plus, it saves him the hassle of making the trip himself."
                 
                Though he'd never say it, it wasn't exactly ludicrous to state that Scrooge McDuck wasn't a fan of St. Canard- the polar opposite of Duckburg across the pretty little bay. The police force was a joke, crime was laughably rampant, you couldn't pay him to live there, let alone visit. He had enough trouble from the blasted Beagle Boys.
                 
                Fenton could see its appeal though, especially when flying high under the guise of his alter ego. The city may have been grizzly at times, but there were also a lot of exciting things in it too!