#-strangles him- i just think hes neat and makes me read student papers and studies id never normally read before

[bells-of-black-sunday]

@axewhirl replied to your post “//literally do not mention t.arhos around me I...”:

tarhos.

​I'm pulling out my pepe silvia board, but it's fine: I honestly think the main reason Tarhos and Vittorio are so hated as characters is just because of click bait youtube videos that proclaimed he could stall out the game until the servers timed when realistically that never happened. I remember one morning playing 10 games against knights back to back and honestly he's not any worse than any other anti-loop killer in the game, I hated playing against Nemesis and Twins far more, he has very clear indications of what you're supposed to do in certain situations we can even see that in the showcase done by a beloved streamer between a top knight player and a top skull merchant player.

I also think the fact that really the only lore channel in the community called Tarhos and Vittorio's lore "boring" also played a role in it, but what is their lore really? Tarhos fundamentally is a deconstruction of the Edwardian romanticism of the renaissance that led to what we see of knights saving princesses and being generally forces of good when at most points in history knights were just glorified gangs to the point where tournaments had to be made and organized to stop them from killing people.

He is a child slave, he's not some noble man who went to go protect the holy land or save people, he's a man whose lived all his life being treated like nothing more than a dog on a leash. He is not rich. He is not pious. Even though he's been groomed into that lifestyle even he sees through the churches bullshit, to him there is no sin there is no right or wrong it's just some big mix of cosmic mud he'll never care to make sense of.

Either all of it is good or none of it is in his eyes. To him the only thing that separates him from other people is he doesn't lie to himself about what he's doing. He is hurting people not that he has or ever had a choice in the matter, he's just grown to cope in a way that he enjoys it. As we can see in his tome he talks about everything that's happened to him like it happened to someone else an example being:

""There was a village quite far from here. A small army advanced on this village on a mission, I suppose, to butcher the barbarians… to make this world a better place. Rather than be killed by a stranger or be taken as a slave these villagers had chosen to die by their own accord."

Tarhos scoops a few more maggots and tosses them into the mouth.

"I remember one mother had poisoned her family without hesitation or remorse. The love and strength of will it must have taken to do that is something I’ve yet to see in all my experiences on the battlefield and off. I have been around nobles and knights my whole life and all I’ve seen is cowardice steeped in the rotten stew of lies and hypocrisy.""

He is very clearly talking about when he was a child and his mother poisoning his family to try and avoid exactly what he's been through. On the other hand you have Vittorio, the survivor he came with, a 13th century Italian lord whose a pacifist who tried to find the fog, because he was told it was a paradise without violence or death. And debatably there could be a part of the entity like that, but that's not what either of them found.

Tarhos didn't even care about what Vittorio was doing until whatever happened over the course of the months they had been traveling together made one simple order, "Find another way", piss him off enough to kill and claim all of Vittorio's land for himself. Granted, could be entity influence after all Tarhos did carry the paradise stone out of those catacombs and it's what Vittorio's been unwittingly searching for the entire time, but Tarhos still makes a comment about how Vittorio only wants him to not be violent so he can sleep well at night.

That he doesn't deserve to hold such ideals Vittorio's entire fortune was secured with nothing but violence and stepping on others to secure such a petty need. He's a coward. The most cowardly lord he ever had served. Yet even in his tome, Tarhos doesn't hate him as much as he pretends to. Not only does he not kill Vittorio, he actively talks to him and thinks aloud telling him war stories and asking if he thinks he's mad, but especially so when other lords take notice of what Vittorio was studying.

That becomes the only reason why Tarhos is keeping him alive, because suddenly this idea of paradise is a much bigger deal than he thought. He's offered money, land, etc. to the people that want him dead, but the only thing they want is what Vittorio has on paradise. Which honestly could be the founding of the Black Veil for all we know. So of course when he gets pulled into the fog with the only 3 people he trusts he's going to see the entity as paradise.

And I can only imagine what he thinks when he sees Vittorio again.

#ooc #a path of destruction (knight) #-strangles him- i just think hes neat and makes me read student papers and studies id never normally read before #I'm so normal about him :) #this is so long though HERWHWEH

[halloweennut]

Music Lessons

Here’s a quick Felicity centric piece about her giving music lessons to Webby, as inspired by @musekicker who has been helping me out with ideas for fics/drabbles (also, go read her ducktales drabbles! they are so good). Fic after the cut.

Being between seasons and shows was hard for someone like Felicity who lived and breathed rehearsing and performing. Of course, small little productions and charity events kept her busy, but they didn’t exactly pay rent. So, with her years of musical training - voice, piano, various strings, flute and trumpet - not to mention dancing, Felicity had the bright idea to teach music and the occasional dance lesson. She had flyers all over Duckburg, and a friend at the local newspaper ran her ad for cheap as well.

Fortunately, there had been plenty of parents wanting a teacher for their children, especially  the rising middle and more bourgeoisie families. As long as they paid, weren’t rude, and didn’t expect their offspring to be Handel, Bach, or David Bowie after two lessons, Felicity was happy to teach. Granted, she was happy to teach regardless - she loved her craft, and sharing it by performing or teaching she loved most of all. After a while, whether it was her personality, teaching abilities or her status as an uprising ingenue of the theater, Felicity found herself with a near full schedule again during the off-season.

As such, having a phone call in the morning for an introductory session that afternoon wasn’t a surprise.

“My boss doesn’t want this getting out into the the public that he’s hired you,” a curt female voice said over the line,  but quickly turned slightly softer, though it was hard to hear. “Not in a bad way, but he prefers his privacy, especially in regards to his niece and nephews.”

“I understand,” Felicity said, cradling the phone between her shoulder and head as she grabbed her schedule. “I don’t tell anyone about the people I teach. It’s all private. Who am I teaching exactly? And for what?”

“His niece and the cello,” she replied. “Are you available this afternoon? Something came up with her normal instructor.”

Felicity paused, scanning her schedule. Between one piano lesson and one voice lesson she had a two hour block available, which was ample time to see where the niece was in her studies and continue where she left off, then get home and ready for the voice lesson.

“I do have room for a one and a half hour session at three,” Felicity answered. There was a flutter of paper on the other side of the phone.

“That works.  We’ll send a car for you at 2:45, “ the voice said. “Please be prompt.”

The phone clicked in her hand before Felicity could even respond. She scoffed at the phone, but nonetheless penciled down the lesson before pulling her cello from what should have been a broom closet. She had an hour before her first lesson of the day, easily enough time to practice.

---

At 2:55 the bumpy car ride finally ended, and Felicity’s suspicions were confirmed about who had hired her. Other than the crash prone driver, who she recognized as none other than Scrooge McDuck’s, the large mansion she stood in front of, hopefully unscathed cello on her back, was certainly his. Felicity had run into Scrooge once or twice before at a few productions and charity events, but he hadn’t been the talkative type. Granted, those were times she had been in the chorus or he was just avoiding obvious charity workers as a way to avoid being pleaded for donations. She also didn’t expect to talk to him that day either.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry that?” Launchpad called from the cab of the car. He had been kind enough to carry it from her apartment door and into the car, and while more or less careful then, Felicity was shaken from the ride and was more concerned about making sure her cello stayed intact.

“I think I got it from here, thank you though!” Felicity smiled sincerely. Launchpad nodded with a thumbs up, and drove off as she made her way up the steps. The doorbell ringing was punctuated by the sound of a bumper getting crumpled and a hub cap rolling off it’s housing, causing Felicity to flinch. The door opened to reveal an older woman, who looked down at her expectantly.

“I suppose you’re the music teacher?” she asked, gesturing for Felicity to come inside.

“Yes, I am. I’m Felicity. Felicity Columbia,” the swan responded, quickly entering the foyer. “Were you the one who called earlier?”

“No, that was Penelope, Mr. McDuck’s secretary at the Money Bin,” the older woman began to walk ahead of her, leading her into the mansion’s halls. It was a very quick paced walk, and Felicity only had a few glances of the rich interior of the house.  The walk stopped in front a set of double doors. “Should you need anything, I’m Mrs. Beakley.”

“Just a few rules,” the tone was like a drill sergeant’s as Mrs. Beakley turned to face her, and Felicity felt herself straighten up. “No snooping, no prying into anyone’s lives here, and no telling anyone who has employed you. Our last instructor did that and we had to fire him.”

“Yes m’am,” Felicity agreed. She didn’t try to bother and tell her that these lessons were called ‘private lessons’ for a reason, not wanting to start anything that could get her in trouble or lose a student. Mrs. Beakley looked pleased.

“My granddaughter is in the music room after these doors,” she said, much to Felicity’s confusion that she thought her student was Scrooge’s niece. “I’ll be coming in to check your progress in approximately 45 minutes. Clear?”

“Crystal,” the swan replied, placing a cautious hand on the door knob. “Can I head in? It’s almost two and I’d like to get started.”

Mrs. Beakley nodded, and Felicity opened the door to a small study. The walls were lined with oak shelves and a great deal of books and portraits of the mansion’s owner. Felicity let herself admire it for a moment when she heard the opening notes of a short warm-up begin on the behind the door on the other side of the wall. Felicity smiled - it was very rare that students took initiative to begin warm-ups without her. With a gentle knock to alert her student, Felicity opened the door to a small, well-lit room with a piano tucked away in a corner.  The small duck’s head snapped away from the neck of her cello towards Felicity, who waved.

“Hello!” she said, making her way over. “I’m Felicity, your cello instructor for the day. What’s your name?”

“Webby,” the young duck replied, and shook Felicity’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry it was short notice!”

“It’s not a problem,” Felicity chuckled. “I’m always happy to teach. While I get my cello out, can you continue your warm-ups? Then you can catch me up on where your regular teacher left off. Sound good?”

Webby nodded with a determined hum, and turned her attention back towards her instrument, sliding into a neat progression of scales. The swan smiled as she rosined her bow - this was going to be a very productive lesson.  

By the time Mrs. Beakley stopped in to check on them, Felicity had been brought up to speed on where Webby was in her lessons - “Very advanced for your age group,” she had said, which Webby preened at. “You should feel accomplished.” - and they not only finished where her previous teacher left off, but began a new piece as well. Mrs. Beakley entered into the room to the sound of a more advanced piece  being broken down and worked through, stilted but on its way.  The two cellists looked up when she entered, Webby grinning wide.

“Hey granny!” she happily said, waving her bow in greeting. Felicity smiled with a quick ‘hello’ as well. Mrs. Beakley nodded with a slight smile.

“Webby, Miss Columbia, how is the lesson going?” she asked. Webby stood on her chair, excited as she lightly bounced on her heels, still holding onto her cello and bow.

“It’s been great! We’ve started a new piece and I learned this neat new finger position! It actually cramps my hand!” Webby stated. Felicity smiled.

“It’s only for a little while, Mrs. Beakley,” she said assuredly, “just until she gets used to the position. You should be very proud of your granddaughter. She’s very proficient, not to mention diligent when it comes to practice.”

“I’ll be prouder once she stops bouncing on the furniture,”Mrs. Beakley said, eyes wary as Webby quickly sat back down with a sheepish apology. “But I am very proud of her. I’ll leave you to back to your lesson then.”

Felicity and Webby nodded and turned their attention back to the next line in their sheet music, which featured the hand-cramp inducing finger position. At the end of the lesson when Beakley came back,  a good quarter of the piece had been broken down with instructions to practice it, as well as look onto the next few lines and break them down the best Webby could.

When Felicity was returning her cello back to it’s case, Webby bounded over to Mrs. Beakley, having a conversation that the swan couldn’t quite here, but Webby’s tone of voice was cheerful at least. As she closed the lid, she felt a tap on her leg, and turned to see Webby standing behind her, arms crossed behind her back and looking almost serious.

“Everything alright, Webby?” Felicity asked. The duck nodded.

“I was wondering if you could be my cello instructor from now on?” Webby asked, much to Felicity’s surprise. “I had a lot of fun during my lesson, which isn’t normally the case, and you didn’t make me feel like I was doing anything wrong, even when I was wrong! Please be my music teacher?”

Felicity, for a split moment, wanted to strangle whoever was teaching her before for making Webby feel wrong while playing and making the lesson not fun at all, but swallowed it down. Besides, they had been fired. She looked up at Mrs. Beakley, who nodded, and she smiled and looked back at Webby.

“I’d be very happy to be your teacher, Webby, if you’ll be my student, “ Felicity said. Webby squealed in delight and lunged forward, jumping up to hug Felicity around the waist. The swan couldn’t help but laugh, and quickly returned the hug with a pat on the head. “Webby, how about you case your cello, and I’ll talk to your granny about a lesson schedule.”

Webby dropped down to the floor with a peppy ‘alright’ and a pumped fist and quickly went to take care of her cello. Felicity picked her case off the floor, slinging it carefully over her shoulder as she made her way over to Mrs. Beakley.  “Am I her instructor now? I just want to make sure it’s alright with you and Mr. McDuck.”

“I am satisfied with your tutelage, and Mr. McDuck will be pleased that we now have a better, more discreet instructor for Webby,” Mrs. Beakley replied, opening the door for Felicity. “Webby, say goodbye!”

“Bye, Felicity! See you next week!” Webby called with a wave from her case.

“See you then! Remember to practice,” Felicity waved back. Webby nodded with the sureness of a soldier and returned to her case. Mrs. Beakley closed the door behind them and Felicity was finally able to ask as she followed Beakley back to the front door: “Is she really Mr. McDuck’s niece? It’s what, um, Penelope said earlier.”

“Honorary niece, Miss Columbia. It’s easier just to say niece and be done with it though,” Mrs. Beakley answered curtly as she opened the front door to let the swan out. “Will you be available this same time next week for lessons? I suppose your hours will change once the show season picks back up again into production however.”

“Yes, and the week afterwards as well,” Felicity responded. “And, yes, my hours will change once my company has shows in production. How did you-”

“I keep tabs on anyone who interacts with my household,” Beakley said flatly. Felicity didn’t have a verbal or mental response to that. “Have a good day, Miss Columbia. Launchpad will drive you home now.”

The door closed, and once Felicity processed everything up to that statement, she unstuck herself from her spot on the stair and down to the waiting towncar.  

#ducktales oc #ducktales #webby vanderquack #mrs. beakley #my oc #felicity columbia #i have two more planned for her right now #as well as a fenro fic;a crackbeaks one; and a couple penelope centered ones #raidenraccoon #musekicker