#just another clone

[running2redemption]

@big-chicken-man liked for a starter with Brycen!

It had been a week since he’d been introduced to the agents of F.O.W.L. as Bradford’s heir and he had probably put forth the general impression that he was like Bradford’s other clones. Quiet and obedient to Bradford’s wishes.

Really, he was still struggling to process well... everything. It was easier to nod along and do paperwork than try to come to terms with his general existence.

And his dreams were... not pleasant to put it simply. Memories that weren’t quite his played in loops, distorting the longer he slept. So he did his best to avoid sleeping.

To that end, he found himself in the break room boiling water for tea and searched the communal fridge for a lemon.

[running2redemption]

“If Bradford and Steelbeak become a couple, with Bradford essentially being my father, does that make Steelbeak my step-parent? Does that make me one of Steelbeak’s multitudinous children?”

[running2redemption]

@sympathyforthedamned

continued from here

Oh, that is a lot of blood.

Don’t faint. Don’t faint. Don’tfaint.

Focus on what he’s saying; look at his face. Compartmentalize.

You promise violence pretty regularly and I remember your lecture on weapons, sir. I wholeheartedly believe you could spill that much of another’s blood.

Don’t think about it. Don’tthinkaboutit.

His office is closer than the labs, and definitely closer than the infirmary and I doubt I could convince him to just go to the infirmary anyway. Foolish ego’s going to get in the way.

Best course of action is...

“Alright then, sir,” Brycen’s eyes are wide, and a little vacant as he gazes into the middle distance, his face having gone increasingly pale as Bradford spoke, “Let’s get you to your office.”

[running2redemption]

Brycen: Romance is dumb Anyone tbh: You’re just saying that cuz you’re single Brycen: -weeping- I’m so alone.

[running2redemption]

@sympathyforthedamned 

continued from this:

Brycen had been asleep at his desk when the buzzing of his phone woke him with a jolt and a squawk. By the time he’d gotten his glasses back on his beak there was quite a thread waiting for him.

He frowned in contemplation; he should just ignore this, eloquent as he was, he didn’t have any words that could be a comfort anyway. But through their shared memories was a thread of... sympathy? Pity?

Bradford might struggle to feel, but Brycen’s heart wasn’t completely made of scar tissue yet.

[txt: The Boss] Would you like some company? I can wrap up what I’m working on.

[running2redemption]

(sympathyforthedamned) 🔪 (to Brycen)

In hindsight, maybe while Bradford was wielding the Sword of Swanstantine and under its influence wasn't the best time to voice a dissonant opinion. In his defense he was... more than a little distraught at the loss of Buford and Bentley.

He braced for the blade, both hoping that Bradford wouldn't actually go through with it and knowing it was a fool's hope.

The blade went through him unnaturally smoothly, but it was a magic sword so that made sense. He was just a mortal man, after all.

He could hear his breath growing uneven and taste the blood on his tongue as he met Bradford's eyes, trying to read them. Did he see regret or was that just wishful thinking?

What did Bradford see in his own eyes? Besides tears, of course.

[running2redemption]

@sympathyforthedamned continued from here

He cleared his throat again, went to speak and made no sound, cleared his throat a third time, wincing at the force he used, “Well enough to work, sir.”

[running2redemption]

@thelostexperiment liked for a starter with Brycen!

It had been a rough year.

He’d lost everything. F.O.W.L. His home... his family. If it weren’t for McDuck’s mercy he wouldn’t even have his freedom. Not that it amounted to much.

He’d been avoiding this place for as long as he could. But he had to face the past eventually. Had to clean this place out - it was his responsibility.

The sandstorm crashing his plane certainly made sure he couldn’t flake out this time.

As he roamed the empty halls, drifting in a sea of memories he could almost swear he heard voices...