Getting a Leg Up

[consider8]

Who: Agent 8 and Della Duck -- with possibly Senku and Devero
Where: Outside Cabin 7-C & Large Room on the Quiet Coach
When: Imagination 17
What: Della gets a foot to stand on & story time!
Warnings: prosthesis; emergency amputation?; sads?



Outside of Cabin 7-C is a single note that seems to has been pasted on the door on the far side of 7-C's door. It simply reads:

Della,
It's finished.
Come to where you left it.
                            ~8

At the back of the quiet room, Eight was busy putting the final touches on Della's prosthesis. Knowing that she wouldn't have the time to work on it the day of the big meeting, she put in more than a little extra work to get it operational. She would have given up, too, were it not for the timely intervention of Senku and Devero.

With a warm smile she set the leg back on the table and put her blanket over to cover it. There was just one final thing that she needed to do. Picking up a paper bag with a pair of holes cut in it, she hastily popped it open and placed it over her head.

Perfect. This plan was foolproof.

Comments

[sos_pilot]

"It's... got a unique origin story..." She's too focused on the paper bag to really think about what she's saying.

It doesn't take long for Della to put two and two together. "... Is this cause of my bad behavior at the Halloween party?"

[consider8]

What? No! No. Noo...

Yes.

"I didn't want you to be grossed out." It's why she even told her to drop the leg off instead of being there to receive it in person. "This is a compromise."

[sos_pilot]

"But you shouldn't have to compromise! I'm the one who's in the wrong!" Maybe her guilt could outweigh the gross! "You should be mad at me! In fact, I want you to be mad at me!"

[consider8]

"I'm an Octarian." She repeated, a restatement of the words that she told Della the first time they met. "We lost a war 100 years ago with Inklings over who would claim the surface to live. So, we were no longer allowed on the surface of the world and were made to live in underground Octodomes. We are not supposed to be seen."

"I am used to being unwelcome." The fact that Della responded so negatively was the expected response, and confirmed what she believed from some 100 years of exile.

[sos_pilot]

"THAT'S EVEN WORSE!" Holy moley! She treated a victim of war like trash! She was the worst person ever! "That's it, it's time for some shock therapy! Gimmie that leg!"

Once she got that leg popped on... there was only one thing to do!

[consider8]

"Avoovameeuwaa??" She chirped, not entirely sure what was meant by shock therapy.

She suspected that it wasn't going to be good...

[sos_pilot]

Ignoring the... whatever... came out of 8's mouth, Della hobbled over to her leg and popped it back into place. She wiggled it around, making sure it worked.

"Okay... good! Now... to the shock!" She dropped her crutches, approached 8... and gave her a big hug.

[consider8]

Eight stiffens and is quiet for a while. She's not sure what to make of this, and is anticipating the "shock" part of this "therapy." When it never arrives she looks over at Della to search for an answer of what was happening that was not forthcoming.

"Oh." The thought came to her. "You're welcome. I'm glad I was able to fix your leg for you." That was it, right?

[sos_pilot]

"Thank you very much." Della said, but when she began to pull back... YOINK! She ripped off the paper bag! And then slapped both hands on 8's tentacle-hair! She would embrace the gross!

"... Huh. Thought these'd be wet."

[consider8]

Too close! Too fast! Though her hair doesn't feel wet, as soon as the hands are placed on Eight's hair her whole body just... dissolves. Her entire form drops to the floor into a pool of ink, where a larger-than-average octopus slides away in hasty retreat under the table.

[sos_pilot]

Della yelped, flailing backs, and landing on her tail. What just happened?! "AHHHH! PLEASE TELL ME I DIDN'T JUST KILL YOU! OR INVOKE SOME SORT OF CURSE! I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY!"

[consider8]

Eight reformed on the opposite side of the table, peeking over the side and keeping it between her.

"What was that for?" Eight protested. The hug she could kinda understand, but the grabbing her hair felt weird.

[sos_pilot]

"I... thought that if I touched what I thought was icky, I wouldn't find it icky anymore." Now that she was saying it out loud, it did sound... kinda... dumb.

"... But I didn't know you could transform! That was so cool!"

[consider8]

"You could have warned me first!" Touch was a big deal to species that used to only grab things they wanted to eat. Eight was starting to get the impression that Della was the type of person that did things without thinking them... through.

[sos_pilot]

Eight was 100% right, let's be real.

But at least Della looked properly ashamed. "My bad. I'm sorry... uh... can I make up for it by starting the story I promised you?"

[consider8]

Eight pulled herself up from her hiding spot, somewhat wondering if this was going to be another invasion of her personal space. This wasn't a trap, was it...?

Still, that was the agreed upon payment, and she was curious...

Gah... curiosity is going to win over caution, at least if she was going to hear this story.

[sos_pilot]

"Okay, let me start at the beginning." She moved to take a seat, hoping this would show Eight she wouldn't launch another 'attack'.

"My family is full of adventurers and explorers. Ever since I was a duckling... er, kid... my uncle Scrooge McDuck would take me and my twin brother Donald all over the world to discover hidden places and find rare treasure. When I grew up and got pregnant with my eggs - uh, children - it felt to me like we'd explored everywhere."

[consider8]

Eight lifted a hand to her mouth, keeping a laugh in. She understands fully the difficulty of explaining an entire species' physiology to a people that didn't have the same frame of reference.

"You're a mommy." She smirked as she sidled along the edge of the table, wondering just what sort of children Della's kids would be like.

[sos_pilot]

"Yep, I'm a mommy." But Della's smile was sad. This was not a tale of loving motherhood... not at first.

"And... I wanted to give my kids the same thrills and love of adventure that Uncle Scrooge gave me. I wanted to give them the stars... I wanted us to go space."

A heavy sigh. "But... Donald was against the idea. He said now that I was a mother, I had a responsibility to my kids, and I couldn't just go wherever I wanted without thinking. He and I fought over it a lot, and I thought I knew better than him. Meanwhile, Uncle Scrooge thought I might be right, so he set to work having a rocket-ship built in secret."

[consider8]

"Uh...huh..." Eight leaned in, thinking over her words. Usually when mothers said they wanted to give the children the stars, it was a figure of speech. But Della wanted to try to give her children that.

Eight was just happy to have a mama.

Suddenly, a memory. A large hand holding tight to a small magenta one. A stern silence through cold tunnels of stone and steel. Dodging patrols. A shaft of light cutting through the darkness. The hands encircle a tiny waist. A quiet lift up to a pillar of pouring light. Up above a metallic grate guarding an endless ceiling carpeted with glistening gems set within the endless sky.

Happy birthday a voice echoes, bringing the Octoling back to Della's story.

[sos_pilot]

"I managed to find out about the rocket before Scrooge wanted to tell me. And... I wanted to take it for a ride. In that moment, I was only thinking of myself. I'd never ridden one before, but I'm a pilot. I assumed it would be like flying a plane, and I'd be back before it mattered. I left behind a note, and went into the rocket, taking off."

A long sigh, turning her head away.

"... But in space, there are a lot of things you can't prepare for. I didn't even think about what might happen out there. There was... an asteroid field. A ton of rocks that I couldn't dodge. I tried to turn back, tried to get away, but... I couldn't. I wound up crashing on the moon. The rocket ship itself was destroyed... and one of the parts landed on my leg."

She wouldn't tell the grisly details of having to give herself an amputation, but she left it vague enough to imply it.

[consider8]

Ah... that, too, was selfish and impulsive... but Eight didn't have the heart to call Della out. From the loss of her leg, to the tone of regret in her voice, it was clear that she had enough time to regret the decision.

"Did you miss the hatching of your children?" Was the only thing she could ask, her tone low and solemn.

[sos_pilot]

Della closed her eyes. The truth was never easy to say, no matter how many times she told this story.

"... I missed ten years of their lives." She answered quietly.

[consider8]

...

A part of her wanted to yell, to accuse her of being foolish and short-sighted. But, wow. How could you after she no doubt lost so much of her life to that one stupid mistake?

No one deserves that, even if they were the most impulsive duck in the world.

But as Eight couldn't think of anything kind to say, she just... sits their quietly, taking it all in.

[sos_pilot]

Della took a deep breath before continuing - fortunately, it wasn't all doom and gloom. "So, for those ten years... I set to work rebuilding the rocket. It wasn't easy... but I was determined to go home to my family. Losing my leg, needing to learn stuff I'd never even tried before, getting supplies eaten by moon mites, it was tough."

She then offered up a small smile. "But, during that ten year... I got some extra help. Turns out there's a whole bunch of people living on the moon, they were just hidden the whole time. And once I figured out how to help them with the moon mites, they began to help me out with the rocket!"

[consider8]

Oh!

Eight couldn't help but smile at that. Ambition should be tempered with caution, yes, but a far more laudable trait was having the ingenuity and ability to get OUT of a sticky situation. Especially so when the solution required mechanical skill and persistence. Eight approves +10 octohearts. "That's amazing!"

Though one thing that did somewhat worry her... "Actually, the leg you gave me was in pretty rough shape. And there seemed to be something black on it that smelled of licorice? Was that from the moon mites?" Not that she wanted to cast doubt on the story, but... could the person that constructed this leg rebuild a rocket?

[sos_pilot]

At that, Della soured in annoyance - but not through any fault of Eight's. "No... that was leftover Oxy-chew." She shuddered just saying the name.

"One of my uncle's top scientists and investors is a jerk named Gyro Gearloose. He's the one who helped build the darn rocket, and the supplies inside. One of his so-called 'brilliant' inventions was the Oxy-chew... the moon doesn't have oxygen, but by chewing the special gum he made, I could breathe and eat it. But he only made it in one flavor... black licorice." Bleck!

sorry for the delay -- lot's of stuff happened; it's fine if you want to end it here!

[consider8]

On one hand, the fact that someone was able to come up with a gum that could be use for general respiration was amazing regardless of its flavor... on the other, Eight could feel the contempt radiating from Della.

So um... change in subject.

"So, mm... what did you do while you were on the moon? Ten years is an awful long time..."