“Becky an’ I were talkin’ ‘bout lettin’ the kids handle it together. They’ve grown into fine kids, I’ll tell ya that. Both of ‘em are their mama’s to the nose, though. Kit’s even started doin’ that thing where he’ll keep talkin’ like I ain’t said nothin’. ‘course, now I gotta look up to him! He’s got a whole head on me, Rip… went and outgrew his old papa bear. Now Moll’s somethin’ else. Kid’s a firecracker… I don’t know that she’ll ever be the business-type, but she’s got a head for money. Better’n I was with it anyhow.”
Taking a moment to take a long pull from his drink, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. They may not be his kids by blood, but he couldn’t have been prouder of helping raise them into the adults they’d both become. Smart, clever, and determined… they were the light of his whole life, right up there with Rebecca. He was lucky to have all of them.
“How ‘bout those kids’a yours? Stayin’ outta trouble, or makin’ it these days?”
It was great to hear that Baloo and Rebecca’s kids were thriving. Ripcord beamed at his friend. He’d have to figure a way to see them soon. Kit outgrowing Baloo in height? And Molly being a firecracker? He had to see those things with his own eyes. Why, he’d always thought Kit would stay little forever, and Molly? any time he’d seen her she was quiet and polite as all get out!
“Ohhh, they’re keepin’ busy. Loopey’s doin’ shows with us and has been for several years now. Can’t say I’ve seen her want to do much else with her life besides fly and make some clothes now and then. She’s keen ta take up the family business when the missus and I get too old for that kinda stuff. Which... If I’m honest, isn’t as far off as it used ta be.”
“And Launchpad? Well, he’s always gettin’ himself inta trouble. He works for Scrooge McDuck, drivin’ and flyin’ him all over creation. He’s made the paper more’n a few times recently! Heck, the boy stays so busy he hardly has time ta catch us up on his life! Birdie and I miss him terribly, but we know he’s tryin’ to find his own way in life. We’re proud as heck of him, not that he gives us the chance to tell ‘im as much...”
It was nice to take a break and get out to Louie’s again.
It was still as loud and raucous as ever, which was nice- some things remained very much the same, no matter how much they changed, and Baloo genuinely felt comforted by that in some way. He wasn’t as active as he used to be- though he did try to keep active if only because Rebecca nudged him to, wanting to make sure he didn’t let himself go too badly in the absence of his work.
He had joked at the start that he’d let himself go years ago, which had earned him a gentle, affectionate pinch for his troubles. Not that he was complaining by any means. And he had, of course, acquiesced to the gym so long as he didn’t go by himself.
Ripcord’s question had him laughing, though, and the old bear snorted, taking a long pull from his glass before gesturing with it at his old friend, a cocky, lopsided grin on a muzzle that had slowly started to turn more white than gray.
“You weren’t much better! I seem to recall the first time you tried that moonshine Louie’d got imported- best fight we ever got tangled up in, though.”
Louie’s imported moonshine. Ripcord could still remember the taste of that wicked stuff after all the years that had gone by. He’d had it more than once after his first taste, but only the first time was especially memorable. At least, it was for Baloo. Ripcord remembered very little from that night besides the taste and vague pictures.
“Can’t say I remember too much about that, but I’m sure we did a bang-up job teachin’ some loud-mouthed folks a lesson.”
He paused, taking another gulp of drink.
“How’re things with Kit? Has he wanted ta take over the flying business from ya? And Molly! Gosh, she’s all grown now too! What’s she up to?”
Both of them were way beyond their heyday and had both retired from heavy work loads. For Baloo Ripcord knew this was a good thing. His friend had been through a lot in his lifetime, and it was all catching up to him now. Taking it easy would keep his pal around longer. For himself, it was both good and bad. There were a lot of days where he had to invent something to do lest he drive Birdie crazy if not himself. That often meant idly tinkering with his plane, or making sure it was polished to great detail. He was grateful he could still climb up into it and fly her but it was getting harder as the years went by. It also meant spending a fair amount of time getting into trouble with his old pal at Louie’s.
Ripcord grinned and took a gulp of his drink.
“Remember when we were just old enough ta start comin’ in here and orderin’ off the bar menu? As I figure it after all these years, you couldn’t hold a drink back then any better’n a flask with holes in it!”
“But bein’ a little looser sure made ya handy in a brawl.”
“Thanks, Ripcord. Tell ya what, it’s rough, but you’ve all beein a lot more understandin’ about this than I coulda expected when the kid first showed up to bring me back to Calisota. Didn’t figure on everybody bein’ all patient-like. But I gather I’ve always been sort of a handful for ‘em.”
Giving another deep sigh, he tried to relax his shoulders… not that it was working very much. He’d felt tense almost since the minute he’d stepped foot back in Cape Suzette.
“This point, I’ll take any advice. I feel like she has trouble even lookin’ at me, let alone smilin’ half the time.”
“Ya’ve never been any more a pain in the rear than I ever have!” He heartily laughed. Sure, Baloo and he could be a lot to handle at some times, but that was part of their charm. “That’s some humor, old pal. We used ta get inta all kinds of trouble when we were younger. But we can talk about that stuff later! We gotta make sure your date with the missus goes well!”
“What you need to do is knock the socks offa her, Baloo. Let’s get ya into some fancy clothes so she does a double take! And get ya some flowers to give to her when you pick her up.”
“Well I’m certainly gonna try, if nothin’ else. They deserve somethin’. I don’t know, it all feels kinda… kinda like flyin’ blind. Heavy clouds, blindin’ rain. And me without a good navigator. There’s just so much that ain’t right, and these headaches ain’t helped matters.”
He sighed when Ripcord put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he frowned.
“I’m supposed to be havin’ dinner with Mrs. Cunningham later. Asked her if she’d like to. She seemed real excited, but it still feels like disappointin’ her somehow. I just wanna see a smile on that face for a change.”
“That yer puttin’ in so much effort isn’t for nothing. Trust me,” Ripcord replied. “They all appreciate the effort a lot. And I know ya can’t remember but... ya’ve flown through all kinds of weather in the past. Ya’ve even flown blind before. Heheh. One time ya did it as a dare when we were young and stupid.”
“My point is, ya’ve gotten through tough times before, so I have no reason ta think ya can’t do the same now, Baloo. And hey, when ya go out with Becky tonight I think I know just how ya can get her ta smile.”
“Believe you me, I’m tryin’ my hardest. But it ain’t easy.”
“Worst of it’s them kids. They’re good kids, and they’re missin’ their papa. Don’t feel right that they get me, with a head full’a nothin’. And that’s sayin’ nothin’ about Mrs. Cunningham. She’s too pretty a lady to look that down.”
“Yer physically with ‘em all, aren’t ya? After bein’ away for so long, I’m sure they’re more than glad yer home, even if ya are missin’ a few memories. Sure, the missus and kids’re sad but... I think they’re more worried than anything.”
He gently clapped the bear on the shoulder.
“Why don’t ya try goin’ and doin’ stuff with ‘em? Makin’ new memories?”
“Docs’ll tell ya it’s fine, things’ll come back to ya with time. They don’t tell ya how hard it is to wait when everybody that knows yer name but you walks around with such long faces an’ you keep feelin’ like yer missin’ somethin’.”
“It’s rough, Baloo, but ya’ve gotta focus on how you feel, not how they feel.”
“Sure, it stinks that ya’ve lost your memories. It’s tough fer a lotta yer friends ta cope with the idea of it, that they can remember and you can’t yet. But ya’ve just gotta trust that things’ll work out alright.”
Summary: When Della discovers her childhood hero, Ripcord McQuack, will fly Scrooge's new aeroplane at an upcoming airshow, she weasels her way into a meeting with Scrooge and the aeroplane's lead designer, Birdie McQuack. But the McQuacks have a request: that Della set up a meeting with their son, Launchpad, who they've been in contact with but has actively avoided seeing them in person.
Author's note: Okay, guys. This is pretty much going to be the DT17 version of the DT87 episode 'Top Duck'. We're meeting Launchpad's parents, he hasn't seen them for a while, but this time it's not entirely Launchpad's fault. Also getting in some backstory for Launchpad, which was unfortunately missed with things getting cancelled, but I'm hoping I've kept this in line with some of the foreshadowing the show did actually have.
***
"I can't believe I'm going to meet Ripcord McQuack!" Della bounced along behind Scrooge, trailing through the research and development building she had not been surprised to find he owned. When Scrooge had told her he was having a fancy new aeroplane designed, of course, she'd been interested. But, when she'd found out her favourite stunt pilot from her childhood was going to be flying it at the upcoming airshow, well, she'd nearly lost it.
There was no way she was waiting for the upcoming airshow now. Not when she knew the guy who owned the plane. Sometimes, having Scrooge as your uncle had its perks.
"Will you settle down?" Scrooge grumbled. "You're behaving like a school kid."
"Um, well, excuse me, but Ripcord McQuack is only the best stunt pilot ever! Or, was." After coming back from the moon, Della had looked up many of the famous people she'd known growing up on the internet. Which, thankfully, was now a great deal faster than when she'd last used it. To her disappointment, she found many of them were either dead, had faded into obscurity, or turned out to be not very nice people. At least Ripcord McQuack was only retired, far too early in Della's opinion, but at least most people who knew anything about planes still knew who he was.
"And his wife is the best aerospace engineer money can buy. This is supposed to be a professional meeting. At least show some decorum."
"Come on. You wouldn't have invited me if you expected it to go all prim and proper."
"I suppose," Scrooge mused. "Birdie and her husband are both pretty easygoing anyway. But just don't embarrass yourself."
"Pft. I'm an awesome pilot. Pretty sure I'm going to impress Ripcord McQuack. I bet he's never flown on the moon."
"Well," said Scrooge. "Technically, you crashed on the moon."
Big double doors opened onto a lab. The walls were lined with computer screens, desks spread with paper, and on the very back wall, floor to ceiling glass windows opened onto a hanger bay, where an imposing gunmetal grey aeroplane sat. Only emergency lighting was on in that area, and it clothed the metal beast in shadows. The screens around the room showed multicoloured views of the plane. Della wasn't sure what those meant. A woman was in front of one, looking at drawings. And, perched on the edge of the same desk, intimately close to his wife, sat Ripcord McQuack.
Birdie slapped a couple sheets of paper into his chest. "Honey, stop touching things."
Ripcord grinned at her, and holy heck, if he was not every bit as charming as Della could remember from when she was a teenager. It wasn't just the aeroplanes that had her interested. "Birdie," he said, "we've got company."
"Oh, Mr McDuck, you're here." Birdie shuffled the mess of papers into a haphazard pile.
Ripcord slid off the desk and waltzed over. "Hey, Mr McDuck. Don't worry. I don't actually know what my wife is doing right now. But rest assured she is on top of it."
"I hope you're ready to fly this thing too."
"Piece of cake."
"This is my niece, Della," said Scrooge. "She's a pilot and wanted to come along to see… the aeroplane."
"What do ya fly?" Ripcord drawled as he took her hand in a firm handshake.
"A… cargo plane…" Della's mind went blank. No! She had flown way cooler things than that, and suddenly she couldn't even think what they were called. She had to say something before she made herself look really stupid. "I had your calendar!" she burst out.
Ripcord stared at her. And then he started to turn pink.
Birdie, who had just wandered over with an electronic pad in hand, burst out laughing.
"Wait… calendar?" said Scrooge. "That's where I recognised you from. Della had this calendar on her wall when she was a teenager. And it had all these pilots with aeroplanes and other machinery, wearing, well, not much of anything just strategically placed spanners…"
"Scrooge!" Della hissed as her beak flushed. "It had aeroplanes in it!"
"That clearly was not the theme."
"It was for charity," Ripcord said quietly. "I still can't believe you let me do that, Birdie."
"I still don't know why you bothered asking," Birdie smirked.
"I thought you'd say no!"
"Are you kidding? Seeing the look on your face every time a younger woman or man mentions it has made it all worthwhile." Birdie squeezed her husband's arm, leaning against him, and he smiled back at her.
"I really did think you were a great stunt pilot," said Della, somehow finding her tongue. She actually felt calmer now. With that out of the way, she could hardly say anything more embarrassing. "The stunts you could pull, and so close to crashing, and you were so much faster than everyone else, and you were… fearless. I… well, let's just say I was away from civilisation for a while. When I came back and found out about the crash and that you were no longer flying stunt planes… I mean, that must suck. You were so good at it! And the fact you can fly a big plane like Scrooge's but not the little ones? That's so weird; what the heck is with that?"
Ripcord's expression darkened as he took a step back and stiffened. The sudden change made Della realise how big he was. Probably taller than Launchpad, if not quite as broad, and, whilst she'd been immediately aware she'd put her foot in it with the calendar, now she had no idea what she'd said.
Birdie squeezed her husband's arm. "Rip," she said quietly, "she's not challenging you."
Ripcord swallowed hard, then forced a smile. "Yeah, that really sucked. At least, it seemed to, at first. But, I ended up with more time to spend with my family. And then I started doing flight training for young pilots. And," he put an arm around Birdie, and as he looked at his wife, he finally relaxed. "I've been able to be there for Birdie when she builds these amazing aeroplanes. Seriously, I don't know how she does it."
"Maths," said Birdie, like that was actually something simple.
"But, yeah," Ripcord tapped his thigh, "those tiny little cockpits were hard enough to squeeze into in the first place. I just can't manage it with a bum leg like this, far less operate the damned things. But, luckily, Birdie is smart enough to design her plane with a bit of legroom."
Birdie broke into a grin. "Would you like to see it?"
"That's what I'm here for," said Scrooge.
"Yes!" Della burst out.
Birdie grabbed Della by the arm and dragged her over to the windows overlooking the hanger bay. Her excitement was palatable and about a plane too, which was something Della could relate to. Della had certainly come to see Ripcord, but seeing Birdie so excited about the aircraft was fast catching and outpacing her excitement to meet the retired aviator. Imagine how fun it would be to actually make an aeroplane from the ground up? And hard. It had been hard enough to put an already made rocket back together.
"Anyone would think she was the one paying your wife," Scrooge muttered as he and Ripcord followed.
"You're going to love this." Birdie flicked a heavy industrial switch set next to the windows, and overhead lights clicked on. They revealed a sleek and angular plane but with a belly that looked surprisingly like…
"It's a cargo plane," said Della.
"It is the fastest, most maneuverable cargo plane you will ever see," said Birdie. "Vertical take-off and landing is just the start. I've shaved the aerodynamics down to the micrometre. And her programming allows her to calculate the optimum route to deliver whatever the heck you want, down to the second with millimetre accuracy."
"It…" said Della, who had lost Birdie somewhere around aerodynamics.
"It's a ridiculously over-engineered cargo plane," said Ripcord. "But maneuverable as heck, and I am going to have a ball putting her through her paces." Ripcord pressed a hand against the glass as he spoke. Della recognised that gleam in his eye. He was thinking about flying the thing, itching for the thrill of flight, but also longing for it with a desperation that, once Della saw it, made her stare.
"Which," Birdie continued, and her voice snapped Della out of the strange moment. "When I have the data from Ripcord's flight will mean I can tweak the aerodynamics even more."
"Which, I assume," said Scrooge, "means she'll be ready to hand over to the man paying you all this money to make him a decent delivery jet."
"She'll be within the agreed tolerances."
Ripcord turned away from the glass and gently bumped Birdie's shoulder. "Honey," he said with a smirk, "just say yes."
"And you," Birdie rounded on him. "You take care of my baby." She scooped a pair of goggles from the bench beside her. "One of your interns knocked this up for me in like a day. Kid's got potential. All I said to him was a throwaway comment about how I wanted to keep an eye on this idiot."
"Married 34 years, and she still doesn't trust me."
"Shush." Birdie grabbed the goggles and half placed them, half threw them at his head.
She didn't quite get them on properly. Ripcord grinned and winked at Della.
Birdie waved her electronic pad. The screen showed a very lopsided image of the room around them. "I'll see exactly what my husband sees. So I'll be able to tell him exactly what to do so I can tweak this thing properly and get it finished… and…." she finally turned to Scrooge, "yes, handed over to you so I can get, you know, paid."
"Thank you."
"And you got the cybersecurity I asked for?"
Scrooge rolled his eyes. "Yes. Though I don't see why we need such stringent…"
"Mark Beaks!" Birdie ground out. "That hack has been trying to get his wingtips on my work for years. I don't want him getting any of the data on my plane and…."
"He won't, Mrs McQuack," Scrooge assured her. "Believe me, I've paid enough money for this, and it's taken long enough. I don't like spending money I don't have to, but I understand when insurance is needed."
"Good."
"Well, unless Della wants to ask you anything more, I think we're done and…"
"Actually," said Birdie, chewing her lip. "There was one favour I wanted to ask of you."
Scrooge's expression darkened. "You've asked for enough extensions. If you think you're going to ask for any bonuses…"
"It's not about money," said Birdie quickly.
"Birdie," said Ripcord. "I don't think it's something you should trouble your boss with."
"We've been patient enough. You know he's just going to keep fobbing us off."
"Maybe he's got good reason to."
"What is it?" Scrooge said tersely.
Ripcord folded his arms and looked at the floor.
"You may have figured this out already," said Birdie. "But our son, Launchpad, well he works for you, and…"
"Wait," Della burst out. "You're Launchpad's parents?!"
"Didn't you know that?" said Scrooge. "Come on, Della, they have the same last name." He turned to Birdie. "I was actually beginning to wonder why you hadn't brought him up already."
Della's head spun. Of course, she'd realised the last name was the same. She'd simply thought Launchpad, of all people, would've mentioned his father was Ripcord McQuack. Or… maybe not. Although he'd told her his parents had messaged him, he hadn't said much more. It had only been because they'd got stuck together on the flight to Australia, and Launchpad had been hurt, that he'd even confided in her.
From what Della had gathered, Launchpad's parents hadn't been around for him much. And it hadn't been like they'd been stuck somewhere like, you know, the moon. Della couldn't imagine not doing everything possible to be with her boys as much as possible when they were younger, had she been able, and had decided that the lack of interest in their own son made Launchpad's parents complete jerks.
But Birdie seemed nice, and Ripcord was, well, Ripcord McQuack.
"I know," said Birdie. "But, wait… here…" She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small wallet. She unfolded it, and it dropped almost to her feet. It took Della a second to realise it contained a bunch of printed photos. Birdie caught it and folded about two-thirds of it back up. "Loopey, Loopey… here!" She shoved the photos at Della tentatively.
Despite the uncomfortable feeling lodged in her gut, Della politely took them. A somehow familiar red-headed kid looked back at her from a high chair, a crib, and then a cardboard box pretend aeroplane. He looked happy. And as she flicked through them, that uncomfortable feeling was replaced by something warm instead. "Aw, he's so… chubby!"
Birdie brightened. "I know!"
"Hang on, hang on…" Della pulled out her phone. She flicked through photos, then shoved it into Birdie's hands. "These are my boys. Dewey wants to be a pilot too. So I've been training him."
"They're adorable."
"Yeah, but… baby Launchpad…." Della could not get over how cute her friend had been. "Do you have any more of these?"
Birdie swallowed and put the photos back into her jacket pocket.
Ripcord put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "We weren't exactly around for him as much as we should have been. After he left home, we didn't see him for a long time. But we've been in contact."
"He… he's said," said Della. "That you were messaging him."
"He's been responsive," said Birdie, "relatively speaking. But he doesn't seem to want to meet up."
Heck, Della knew it had taken Launchpad a whole week to even reply to his parents' first message. Did he really not want to see them? Or was he just scared and second-guessing himself all over again?
"I wanted to ask," said Birdie. "If one of you could speak to him and convince him to come to the airshow? I mean, it's aeroplanes. He's going to want to go. We can meet him there, maybe pretend we just ran into him…. just don't tell him we'll be there."
"Wait, you want me to lie to him?"
"I just don't think he'll come if he knows we'll be there. And I don't know how long it'll take to convince him to see us, if at all."
"And here was I thinking you wanted Ripcord's name left off the run sheet for dramatic effect," Scrooge muttered.
The knot in Della's gut returned. She didn't want to lie to Launchpad. She'd seen how much the idea of talking to his parents had tied him up in knots. But, she was also sure it was something he really did want. After all, it wouldn't have got him so upset if he didn't care. So, maybe he did need a little push.
"I mean," said Ripcord, with a nervous laugh. "I don't think he's going to catch on you've intentionally set something up. I mean… it's Launchpad."
"I'll ask him if he wants to come. I won't directly lie to him. But…" Birdie at least deserved a chance. Della could tell she cared about Launchpad, even though she had been nervous about showing those photos. Della was sure some people didn't think much of her for getting stuck on the moon for a decade, away from her kids. If she'd been in a position where someone could help her, she'd want them to give her a chance too. "I'll see if I can convince him to come. It might not be easy, though. Now that I think about it, he's managed to avoid the Duckburg annual airshow for years."
***
"What do you mean the Jnr. WoodChuck camping trip is cancelled?!"
"Launchpad…" Emily Hooterman's voice came from Launchpad's mobile phone clamped to his ear. "Please, calm down. I know you enjoy it. And you're always a great help as most other leaders want to go to the Duckburg airshow instead of supervising rowdy children. But, well, that's the problem. We just haven't got the turnout this year. Everyone's parents are taking them to the airshow."
Launchpad paced the McDuck garage in front of Mr McDee's car. No no no. "But Ms H!" he blurted out, reverting to what he'd called his old WoodChuck Leader as a child, "The camping trip is every year, at this time, we can't change it! Why would you change it? I can't… I can't stay here, I…"
"Launchpad," she said, patiently, "You're an adult, remember? You know you can go camping by yourself if you want to."
He could. But somehow, people seemed to accept 'I have a commitment' far more readily than 'I don't actually have anything else to do, I just want to be someplace else.' Especially when it meant avoiding an airshow, which everyone assumed he should like.
"Look, I guess I get it?" Emily continued. "Duckburg gets hectic. There's so much traffic. And the constant overhead noise is just really irritating. But, aren't you a pilot for Scrooge McDuck, as well as his chauffeur now? I know its not cargo planes, but you sill might enjoy the airshow."
Why did everyone think he had to enjoy airshows? "Look, thanks for letting me know the trip is cancelled," Launchpad said instead. "I'll… figure out what I'm doing." He hung up before she could respond or say goodbye. Then felt a little guilty. It wasn't Emily's fault everyone wanted to go to the stupid thing.
"Wait, did I hear that right? Did your WoodChuck trip get cancelled?" Dewey stood in the door to the garage, a grin slowly spreading across his beak. Launchpad could see the air swelling in his chest and the excitement winding up inside his friend, and then Dewey finally let it all out. "That means you can come to the airshow with me!"
Launchpad groaned. He sunk down with his back against Mr McDee's car and put his face in his hands.
"LP? Are you okay?" He heard the scuff on the concrete as Dewey slid down beside him, and then his friend squeezed his arm. "What's wrong?"
Launchpad lifted his head. "Dewey, I… I… I don't actually want to go to an airshow." The words, which had seemed something he couldn't actually say to anyone, were suddenly out there.
"I got that. But why? You love aeroplanes. And flying."
"Yeah, but I don't like airshows." Launchpad wanted to explain it. So much. He should've been able to, especially to his best friend. Even what he'd been able to share with Della hadn't been much and was only because she'd caught him in a vulnerable spot, and he'd blurted out his parents were messaging him. It had been kind of nice to tell someone something. But he hadn't really wanted to. He'd been in too much pain, desperate for any connection, and Della had been the one there. At least afterwards, she seemed to understand where his boundaries were.
Even if his parents hadn't. They'd been bugging him to see them for weeks. He'd only just got comfortable texting and occasionally talking to them on the phone. Couldn't they just be happy with that? Airshows reminded Launchpad too much of his dad. And watching them on tv, at home, alone. At least then, he'd gotten to see a bit of his father. Happy, at least. Instead of fighting with Mom. The contact from his parents had only dredged up the bad feelings he held, and he'd been looking forward to getting away from Duckburg for a few days.
"Is this why you don't want to go?" Dewey pulled out a creased flyer and held it out.
Launchpad took it with a sigh, but he already knew what would be on it. The second reason he avoided airshows. Not that that was entirely for his own benefit. Below the fancy new aeroplane McDuck industries were showing off was a name that stared tauntingly back at him.
"Loopey McQuack," said Dewey. "I saw her last year. She was terrific. Is she… I mean… the name…"
"She's my little sister."
"Launchpad! Why didn't you tell me... don't you want to see her fly?"
"Of course I do. It's just… I don't think she'd want to see me. It'd be awkward."
"Did you two not get on or something?"
"No, not my little sister. It's not that we didn't get on. It's just that… I guess we never really got a chance to hit it off."
"Launchpad, what happened? Why don't you want to see her?"
Launchpad gulped. "Dewey, not every family is like yours. Not every parent is as great as your Mom. And I get now that mine were struggling, and I get it's hard when you don't have a lot of money. And I was so mad at them… but they'd started to try, especially when Loopey came along they were trying, but…." He drew a deep breath. "But then I had to go and screw it all up."
My favourite thing about the original Ducktales episode 'Top Duck' is just poor Ripcord trying to tell Launchpad he loves him and Launchpad motor mouthing his self-depreciation all over the place.
Ripcord seems kind of chill and quiet, at least compared to the rest of his family. And can't get a word in edgewise.
But eventually just can't deal with his son talking himself down and physically clamps his beak shut, like:
"Shut up and let me tell you how fucking proud I am of you."
“Hey, Son.” He’d dropped by Launchpad’s place to check up on him. He didn’t want to seem desperate to see his son, but he was. He’d spent years wondering if Launchpad was alright and now that he’d had help finding him, he didn’t want to lose track of him ever again.
“I came by ta see if ya wanted to whip yer old plane back inta shape. She’s been waitin’ for ya back home all this time. Managed ta get her flown over here but I don’t think she’ll go anywhere else for a while. Figured us workin’ on ‘er together’d be a nice little father/son activity.”
She looks up at Launchpad when he tells her one question at a time. She can’t help the small laugh. Come on Launchpad keep up!
Although it’s Ripcord that answers her. She turns to him, and she’s happy he comes closer down to her level. Would save her from having to crane her neck.
“I wanna learn!” Gos says with an excited grin when it was confirmed that Launchpad could basically fly when he was her age.
“Launchpad you know dad’s gonna say no.” He always wanted her safe. And he always thought safe meant boring. “You gotta teach me without his permission.” she grins mischievously.
And then she looks back to Ripcord. “hey! We can go to Duckburg!” she looks back to Launchpad bouncing on the spot practically. “You can take me out and we can see Huey, Dewey, and Louie too.”
Launchpad sighed and let his head droop. With his father and Gosalyn working him so hard, he couldn’t possibly say no. Gosalyn would get to see an air show and she’d learn to fly, even if Drake would flip out about it immensely upon learning the fact.
Ripcord chuckled yet again. Gosalyn was so cute.
“If yer dad won’t let Launchpad teach ya, maybe he’d be alright with me doin’ it?” he suggested. “Nothin’ against you, Launchpad! It’s just that yer Drake’s friend so he’s kinda biased because he knows ya so well! Tell ‘im I’ve got a teaching license and see where it gets ya, Gosalyn.”
Gosalyn took her drink and took a sip as she inspected the photos for a moment before looking back up at Ripcord.
She gets a grin.
“That must be exciting!” she says before looking up at Launchpad. “That must be where you learned all your flying skills right?” Launchpad is the only person she knows who’s flown a plane backwards before.
“Are you ever gonna teach me how to fly?” she asks suddenly picturing herself flying the thunderquack.
Dad had always told her she wouldn’t drive the bike… but he’s never said anything about the plane.
“Why’ve you never taken me to a show?”
Launchpad held his hands up defensively. “Whoa, one question atta time, Gos!”
Ripcord couldn’t help but chuckle. Gosalyn was outright drowning Launchpad in questions. She was eager to know things, and eager to learn. She sure was spirited.
“I can answer one of th’ questions for ya while Launchpad’s sortin’ his answers out,” he said as he knelt to her level. “Launchpad learned everything about planes from me’n his mother. Why, he was about your age when he could just about fly by himself! I betcha he’d be glad to teach an eager little lady like you how to fly.”
“Eh, well- Only if your Dad approves,” Launchpad added. Drake would flip his lid about letting Gosalyn fly, he thought. If he taught her at all, it would have to be under Drake’s nose. Not the best of ideas, but the only alternative he could come up with. Unless he could get Morgana on board, who could in turn get Drake on board too.
As for why he hadn’t taken Gosalyn to any air shows... that was an easy enough thing to answer. The biggest reason he hadn’t was that he was insanely busy, splitting his time between St. Canard and Duckburg. The other was that his parents didn’t fly in Duckburg all that often, nor in St. Canard. It was hard to drop everything to see them halfway across the country when crime never slept.
Ripcord could tell his son was trying to figure out a way to tell Gosalyn why so again, he stepped in.
“Gosalyn, I’m sure Launchpad wants ta take ya, but adults have ta balance things they love doin’ with things they’re obligated ta do.” He looked up at Launchpad. “We’ll be flying next month in Duckburg if ya wanna come. That way ya have it planned ahead of time.”
Your uncle is remarkable. The world’s greatest adventurer. But at what cost? How many people must live in fear of being captured by aliens or even attacked by their own shadow? Why, if he thought twice, perhaps YOUR MOTHER would have never been lost in space.
independent ducktales 2017 multimuse, ft. canon, canon divergent, aus, ocs, and other disney ducks characters - template / overlay
It certainly wasn’t news Drake had wanted to deliver, but at the same time, he felt like he had to. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, he had made a decision that night, sitting and talking to Launchpad in the tower: he had made the firm decision to seek out and find the pilot’s lost family. It was just by sheer stroke of luck that the name matched with a family of pilots.
What were the odds?
But saying it out loud, that Launchpad had no memories of his family or past, still made him feel ill, leaving an awful, sour taste spreading in his mouth. Especially watching the immediate reaction that first crossed Ripcord’s face.
It was the second reaction that startled him, and he blinked a few times before he moved to follow him, eyes wide. There was no guarantee any of this would help at all, of course, and taking the albums and Launchpad’s old things back to the tower would certainly reveal what he’d been up to…
But it was worth it. Launchpad deserved people in his life who loved him, and he would see this through, no matter what it cost him.
“Right, sir- of course. Anything you think will help him, I’m willing to give it a go. Launchpad’s- I came looking because he’s something special, and I guessed he had to come from special people. I want to give him the chance. If nothing else.”
Drake was special, Ripcord thought. His face softened at Drake’s gentle determination to help his friend. Ripcord was glad that Launchpad had Drake in his life to help him out, especially with this. Even if Launchpad’s memory was gone for good, Ripcord decided then and there he’d always do right by Drake for simply trying his best. It was the least he could do for the guy after being loyal to one of his own.
He led Drake inside and immediately grabbed a photo album full of pictures of Launchpad growing up. The pictures inside were mostly just of him, usually crashing something. But interspersed were photos of him and his sister having a grand old time together, just being kids.
“Start here,” Ripcord said, gently passing the album to Drake. “Ease him into it all. This album’s mostly photos of him crashin’ stuff by himself. Heheheh. The missus wanted to keep a record of ‘em all. Sometimes Launchpad would wrangle his sister into it too, which is why she’s in this album with ‘im.”
“Drake, I can’t thank ya enough for doin’ this for my son. If there’s anything you need, just ask. I’d be obliged ta help ya out.”
“Okay.” She smiles up at him. She was glad he brought her too! Otherwise it was sitting at home alone while her dad was off doing something with Morgana.
She’d much rather be here.
She easily followed into the house, glancing around curiously. She flashes them an innocent smile. Knowing her dad would probably tell her don’t snoop but that was exactly what she was gonna do.
“I’m gonna explore!” She declares, giving an excited little bounce.
Ripcord smiled again at Gosalyn and disappeared into the kitchen to fetch drinks.
Launchpad went to the mantle, surveying the photos he’d seen countless times along with new ones that had been taken recently. A part of him hated that he wasn’t in them but he knew that couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t in his family’s air show.
It wasn’t long before Ripcord was back. He noticed Launchpad’s staring.
“Just got home from the show that photo was taken at,” he commented. “We all wished ya coulda been there with us, but we know yer busy with yer own work.”
Ripcord patted Launchpad on the back and passed him his drink. He passed Gosalyn hers next.
“Speakin’ of shows, has Launchpad told ya what we do for a livin’? His sister, ma, and I fly stunt planes in air shows all over the world! And when we’re not doin’ that we’re here helping farm the land.”
She makes a bit of a face when he asks about the missus. Not for the first time has she been mistaken for Launchpad’s biological daughter. But that didn’t make him any less of her dad.
She grins as her hair is tussled. “yes sir!” She said playfully giving him a little salute. Oh she kept him and her dad on their toes alright.
“I’m Gosalyn Mallard!” She says sticking her hand out to Ripcord as if his hand wouldn’t swamp hers. “But you can call me Gos. Launchpad let me tag along.”
“No need t’call me Sir! Ya can call me Ripcord, Gosalyn! Or anything else that suits ya.”
“I’m glad Launchpad brought ya along.”
It was hardly a secret that Ripcord cared a great deal for children just as his own son did. gosalyn being present meant that he could spoil her a little like he’d done with Launchpad so many years ago.
“Come on in the house you two. We’ll catch up on things and then have some fun.”
Ripcord guided the pair into the farmhouse.
“Living room’s right here, but Gos, if you wanna explore feel free to. My home’s yours! I’ll grab you and Launchpad somethin’ ta drink.”
