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@fultonfixit-a
So, this blog is going to be converted into a Gearloose family multimuse! The url’s gonna stay the same, bc it still fits…
But within the next couple days, I’m gonna be moving Fulton, Ratchet and 87 Gyro onto here! ( @fultonfixit, @resilientgearloose and @notamxchine respectively )
Gearlooses that will be added: Copernicus and Cartesius, Gizmo (Ratchet’s twin brother), and possibly Galileo!
Mad Ducktor and Topolino Gyro will remain their own blogs, for simplicity’s sake.
RTgame quotes: Sims edition {Sentence Starters}
“Oh no, he died.”
“That’s kinda bad…”
“There’s no one home!”
“Why did the roof shrink?”
“You need a shower, man.”
“Just don’t mind the horse.”
“This sounds so menacing.”
“Go use the secret shower.”
“Why are you okay with this?”
“Oh, we lost e v e r y t h i n g.”
“She’s not even a real vegetarian.”
“And all it cost was our front lawn.”
“I don’t know why you can do this.”
“Every family needs at least one horse.”
“This isn’t Star Trek, we can’t just do that!”
“You can do some horrific things here, too.”
“He should, by all means, be dead by now.”
“They’re protesting the Loch Ness monster.”
“This is what a proper midlife crisis looks like.”
“Ahh, we didn’t really care about him, anyway.”
“Oh my god, how long has this been happening?”
“You just saw a person die. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“The plan is, we’re gonna make an observation tower.”
“How many people are gonna be left alive at this rate?”
“You want some chairs? We’ll get some fuCKING CHAIRS.”
“He’s only got one day left, so we better make tomorrow count.”
“We’re making a moat… we’re making a moat around the house.”
“The cursed room is gone, we don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
Make sure to study hard in school, kids, or you’ll become a fucking vegetarian.”
After some discussion with @oboeist3, we decided that the US comics/DT’87 timeline’s Gyro doesn’t have a Mad Ducktor. Instead, that honor goes to Fulton.
This Mad Ducktor, known as ‘Silver’, comes from Fulton’s grief and desperation to save Marshall, no matter the cost to himself or the timeline. He was created as a side-effect of his constant use of the Time Tub, and later split into his own entity after a well-intentioned invention from Gyro goes wrong.
Peer into my muse's memories
❤️- A happy memory that makes them smile
💙- A sad memory that makes them cry
💛- A memory that makes them feel angry
💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty
💜- A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad
💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely
❣- A memory that leaves them laughing
💕- A memory about their significant other
💞- A memory about their children
💓- A memory about their friends
💗- A memory about a good deed they did
💖- A memory that made them feel special
💝- A memory that made them feel loved
💘- A memory that gets their heart pounding
💟- Wildcard!!!
due to personal reasons i will be letting moss grow on me
due to circumstances that i will not elaborate on i shall be getting lost in the moss
for purposes that don’t concern you i intend to decompose
My eyes are 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑑𝑒. I’m racing to his side.
There’s nothing that I 🇼🇴🇳’🇹 🇩🇴 for him.
cacklingfools:
“….”
Put that thing back where it came from or so help him because he does NOT like it.
Fulton wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. It looked like a lightbulb, but with arms and legs? Was it alive? The mossy immortal stared at the robot, kneeling down to get a closer look.
“Now, what are you...?”
Sooooo I’ve come up with a rough timeline for my headcanons of the Gearloose family… including my whole plot idea with those in/close to the Duck family ending up immortal if they don’t die young, with their aging ceasing at a certain point. Some details are left out, like Curie’s birth and the creation of Little Helper, but this is just a rough timeline.
Also this does mean time travel or “flashback effect” will likely be needed to interact with Ratchet, since by default, he’s always murdered in 1926 despite Fulton’s best efforts.
EDIT: made a slight retcon, ratchet is now younger
// GOD!!!! //
Independent Flintheart Glomgold Role-play blog!
💵 Based on the ‘Ducktales’ (2017) cartoon!
💵 No-Lewd!
💵 Semi-selective!
💵 More than 5 years experience in roleplaying!
💵 Multi-verse open!
💵 Follows back from Airborne-disaster!
aflockoffeathers:
Starter for: @fultonfixit Falcon & Fulton thread.
Sticks crunched beneath his thick soled boots, dusted dirt staining his shoes and shins. Slate greys eyes flickered up from the trail he’d been following, just to glance around the thick trunk tree’s that touch the sky. Falcon finds himself huffing out quietly. Honestly, he didn’t want to be here, but he was told that hiking may help him.
Not that he…needed help. Least, Falcon didn’t believe he needed help. Everyone else decided he did, and if he wanted to keep his employment, he had to get it. Advised that experiencing some nature may clear his mind, Falcon opted to, begrudgingly, agree to it. Once it’s done, he never has to return.
Assuming Falcon can find his way out of the dense foliage around him. The trail he was on, wasn’t a recommended one. It was just a worn down path Falcon opted to follow, and inevitably, got himself a little lost.
Continuing to walk, Falcon thinks about his next best step, how to get out of here. However, he’s dragged out of his thoughts, when there’s another snap of a branch. Not from beneath him, but, to his right.
Head snaps up, eyebrows furrowing. Eyes stare into the darkened tree’s that surround him. He squints, trying to make out any shapes, any movements. There’s nothing, now that Falcon had taken notice of whatever was near him. Frown tugs back onto his beak, fingers curling into fists.
Though on edge, Falcon doesn’t run, or even budge from his spot. Instead, he makes the, potentially stupid, decision to yell out into the nothingness that stood before him,
“Hello!?”
People rarely set foot this deep in the woods. Long-time residents of Duckburg knew of the ‘monster’ that lurked within, and the younger crowd heard rumor of something supernatural that had claimed the woods as its territory. Only the very young, the very foolish, or those who did not know tended to venture this far in.
Fulton narrowed his eyes when he sensed the intrusion, watching the bird from afar. He was grown. An adult. And it seemed that this man was no stranger to violence. He had very little reason to trust him. The immortal took a step, deliberately letting his foot fall on a branch, snapping it in twain. A test, to see how the stranger would react.
Almost as he expected, the man instantly went on edge. Ready for a fight. No, he did not trust him at all. Feathers bristling, he lay in wait just out of view, letting nature be his camouflage. Until the man called out.
“You should not be here.” He said, voice carrying on the breeze. Fulton circled the bird, quietly sizing him up. Making his final judgement before he’d choose to reveal himself. Staying just out of sight, he questioned, “Why have you come here?”
mxdamecurie:
She couldn’t help but wince a little at her birth name, prepared as she was for the blow it still stung. Her eyes went wide as his first reaction was so relaxed. There wasn’t shock or fear or revulsion, just an earnest love that Curie was scared she would be without. A wobbly smile found its way onto her face, and she blinked hard to keep the happy tears from forming.
“It’s Curie. A little nouveau French, I know, but I think it suits me.” she said. Their mother, rest her soul, had given her children very proper, English names. Unwieldy. It was no wonder that little Gyro had chosen the nickname, rather than suffering four syllables at a time.
“You look good too, Dad. Glad to see Gyro talked enough sense into you to wear your glasses.” she teased, and it was all so easy, so normal. She was a little scared to address the elephant in the room, and the older sibling role was something that remained. “Where is she anyhow? Could’ve come to meet me after going through the trouble of writing me a letter.”
“Curie.” Fulton says, testing the name on his tongue. It sounds right. It sounds... her. A warm smile makes its way across his beak, and it reaches his eyes, making the crow’s feet more pronounced. “It does. It sounds absolutely lovely. And what a lovely young woman you’ve become!”
He reached out, hands resting on Curie’s arms as he looked at her, taking it all in. Love filled his expression-- unconditional love, gazing at his now-daughter. She looked happier like this. There was a difference in the way she carried herself now, and it warmed his heart to see.
And then came the question-- Gyro. Fulton blinked, and then he chuckled softly. “Oh, Gyro? He’s a couple towns over-- in Duckburg. He’s set up his own little shop there, selling his inventions to the folks around there.” Looking at Curie, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “And yes, I said ‘he’. It seems you’re not the only one who underwent a bit of a transformation.”
“He did want to come and meet you, but he had his hands full with building some kind of security robot for that old miser, McDuck.” Fulton scoffed, pulling back and folding his arms. “I swear if that dusty ol’ duck tries to shortchange him one more time, I’ll give him a taste of what I showed him back in my Woodchuck days.”
mxdamecurie:
@fultonfixit
The first thing that Curie noticed when the train pulled into Gumption station was that they redid the floors. Warped wood replaced with sleek tile, with geometric patterns dancing towards the door. It’s a proper station now, because Gumption, while certainly still a small town, was no longer on the frontier. Actually, there wasn’t much a frontier anywhere, except for the dangling metal satellites being launched seemingly every day now. (Which did keep Deidre in gainful employment.) It was almost comforting, knowing that she wasn’t the only one who changed.
Though certainly she had changed a great deal more.
Curie had communicated with her family plenty since she left for college: letters, phone calls, carefully selected pictures, but she hadn’t actually been to visit in person for years. She’d always known that if she did, that might be the end of their good relationship. But Gyro had insisted, and she’d do anything for the not-so-little-anymore scamp, so she was there. Roller suitcase in hand and about to face down some of scariest interactions of her life. She took a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back, and stepped onto the platform.
Finding Dad among the waiting crowd proved a little difficult, he was gray-haired now, the line of it receding. He was actually wearing his glasses, and there was a calm to him that age had brought. A calm she hoped would steady him.
“Hey there, Dad.” she said, walking up to him. She was wearing her typical green turtleneck and pants combo, but she’d refused to lower her voice like she usually did on phone calls, and her hair was starting to curl around her shoulders.
Fulton’s heart pounded in his chest as he stood among the crowd at the Gumption train station. It had been a long time since he’d last seen his eldest child, to the point where he was worried he wouldn’t recognize them. He’d taken care to remember to wear his glasses today, just in case. He was thankful that Gumption was so near to Duckburg, since he’d recently needed to get them fixed, and Gyro had fortuitously just created nigh-indestructible glass.
Several minutes passed as the train’s passengers disembarked, and Fulton began to worry that maybe he’d had the time wrong-- or perhaps something had happened to his child. Before he could spiral into a panic, however, a voice reached him, calling his attention. A voice that sounded familiar, but just different enough to give him pause. Dad. Fulton turned, and he found himself face-to-face with a young woman.
A chicken, with tawny brown hair that went down to her shoulders, a familiar outfit, and glasses. As it sunk in just who he was looking at, Fulton’s eyes widened, shining with joyful recognition.
A name slipped out of his mouth-- one Curie hadn’t gone by in years. But the man quickly grimaced and shook his head. “N-no, that’s not right anymore, is it? What do I call you now? Goodness, you look wonderful!”
even if i get hurt // even if it hurts i have no choice but to stand up! no matter how many times i fall i have something to protect
“those who do not learn from history
are doomed to repeat it...
and yet,
humanity never seems to learn.”
indie fulton gearloose
written by brandy
…Soмeтιмeѕ ɪ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ
I αм ɴoт
Human.
Argh! He was so fricking lost! All those dumb trees looking exactly the same, no sign of civilization anywhere... And if he kept driving on circles, his bike would eventually run out of gas... And even worse, it was getting late; the sun would set soon. Kildare was starting to really freak out! He had no idea how to survive in the wild, or even how to find a way home! His phone was dead, he was hungry and scared... @kildaresgrizzocoot
@kildaresgrizzocoot
People rarely set foot this deep in the forest. Let alone with any kind of vehicle… the trees in this part were too thick to allow a car to traverse the terrain, but something as small as a motorbike would be able to. Fulton frowned when he heard the sound of the engine, quickly slipping through the foliage in order to find the source. There shouldn’t be anyone this deep in his territory…
Spotting the duck driving around, he narrowed his eyes, at first suspicious of the adult. But then he sensed his fear. His wild heart. He wasn’t like the other adults in ‘civilization’. Perhaps… perhaps Fulton could trust him.
He decided to make himself known. The being leapt down from his perch in the trees, placing himself in the path of the lost duck. Staring him down without fear, he spoke calmly, “You’re lost, aren’t you?”
