The meeting room inside WishUpon was full. Not unusually loud but busy in that low, constant way that came with too many personalities sharing one space. Papers shuffled. Chairs creaked. Sonic tapped a pencil too loudly. At the head of the table sat Mickey, posture neat, expression controlled but there was a tightness in his shoulders that hadn’t gone unnoticed. Around the table Mario leaned forward with his arms crossed, listening. Sonic spun a pen between his fingers, already looking half-bored. Bugs lounged back casually, one ear flicking lazily. Oswald the Lucky Rabbit had his shoes up on the table, until Mickey shot him a look and he slowly lowered them. Felix scribbled something down, occasionally glancing up. Jessica Rabbit sat poised, legs crossed, watching everything. Pomni fidgeted slightly in her seat. And further down Marquinhos sat slouched back, arms crossed, clearly uninterested in whatever was coming next.
Mickey tapped his pen lightly against the table. “…Alright,” he said, drawing attention. “Before we move on… there’s something we need to address.” That alone shifted the room. Mario glanced up. Sonic stopped spinning his pen. “What’s up?” Mario asked. Mickey flipped a page in his notebook. “…Mr.McDuck is coming by later today,” he said. “He wants a full check-in. Operations, progress… everything.” A collective reaction followed. Sonic groaned. “Ugh, him?” Bugs smirked slightly. “Heh, guess someone’s countin’ coins again.” Jessica sighed softly. “He’s thorough, nothing wrong with that hon.” “Annoyingly thorough,” Felix added. Across the table, Oswald leaned back immediately. “…Yeah, no,” Oswald said flatly. Mickey didn’t even look at him yet. “Oswald, you’ll be-” “Nope,” Oswald cut in, shaking his head. “Not doing it.” That earned a few glances. Pomni blinked. “Wait- you can just say no?” “Watch me,” Oswald muttered.
Mickey finally looked up. “…You didn’t even let me finish.” “Don’t need to,” Oswald replied. “I already know where this is going and I'm not doing it.” Sonic snorted. “He’s not wrong.” Mickey’s eye twitched ever so slightly. But instead of snapping. He closed his notebook. Then quickly opened it again. Flipping back a few pages. That caught attention. Felix leaned forward slightly. “What’re you checking boss?”Mickey didn’t answer right away. His eyes scanned. Then… He tapped something. “…Every time McDuck’s visited for progress,” he said slowly, “it’s always been me and Marquinhos handling it.” That shifted the room. All eyes moved instinctively towards Marquinhos. Who didn’t even look up. “…Yeah? No one else bothers to spend time with him,” he muttered. Mickey ignored that. He closed the notebook. Reached for a spare notepad. Wrote something quickly. Then slid it across the table. Right to Oswald. “You’ll be handling it brother,” Mickey said. Oswald stared at the paper. Then at Mickey. “…You’re joking….”
Mickey said nothing. Instead. He lifted his hand. And pointed. Directly at Marquinhos. “…You won’t be alone, Since Mr.Aser has done this just as much as me, he’ll be guiding you on how this works.” That got an immediate reaction. Marquinhos’ ears twitched. His head lifted. “…No way.” Flat. Immediate. Jessica raised a brow slightly. Sonic leaned forward, suddenly interested. “Oh, here we go…” “I’m not doing that again,” Marquinhos said, sitting up now. “Have any of the other Stars handle this.” Oswald scoffed. “Yeah, I’m with him.” “Good,” Marquinhos shot back. “Feeling’s are at least mutual.” “Likewise,” Oswald replied. Pomni looked between them nervously. Mickey’s patience snapped. His chair scraped loudly as he stood. The room went quiet instantly. Before anyone could react. He walked straight over to Marquinhos. Quick. Controlled. And then his hand shot out. Grabbing him by the scarf. “H-Hey!” The sudden motion yanked Marquinhos forward slightly in his seat. Pomni flinched. Sonic’s eyes widened. “Easy there!” Jessica straightened slightly, watching closely.
Mario frowned, already shifting in his seat. “Come on Mr.Mouse isn’t it unfair you're making him help?” Mickey however didn’t listen, he leaned in, voice low. “You’re going to help him.” Marquinhos’ eyes narrowed, ears pinned back. “No way,” he said, just as firm. “I’m not helping unless you give me a good reason to, besides I have blueprints that need to be done.” The tension spiked instantly. The room felt smaller. Tighter. No one spoke. Even Bugs sat up a little straighter now. For a moment it looked like neither of them would back down. Then Mario leaned slightly toward Mickey. “…Hey,” he muttered quietly. Just low enough that it didn’t carry. He whispered something quick. Something practical. Mickey paused. His grip didn’t tighten… but it didn’t loosen yet either. He exhaled. Slow. And let go. Marquinhos leaned back slightly, adjusting his scarf with a glare. Mickey straightened. “…Fine.” He crossed his arms. Then looked directly at Marquinhos.
“I’ll make you an offer then,” he said as he continued to look at Mark. “I’ll take you out for some dinner if you help.” That caught everyone off guard. Sonic blinked. “…Wait, what?” Bugs smirked. “Heh. Now you’re negotiating doc?.” Marquinhos narrowed his eyes. “…You’re serious.” “Completely,” Mickey replied. A pause. All eyes on Marquinhos. He looked away briefly. Thinking. Clearly annoyed. Clearly resisting. “…Fine,” he muttered finally. “But I’m not enjoying it.” Oswald groaned loudly. “Oh, this is gonna be awful… You better keep your mouth shut the entire time, cat.” “Excuse me? How about then you don’t mess it up for us,” Marquinhos shot back immediately. “Oh, I’m the problem all of the sudden?” Oswald snapped. “Absolutely you are!” Mickey raised a hand. “Enough both of you.” They both stopped. Mickey adjusted his sleeves, returning to the head of the table like nothing had happened. “…Good,” he said. “Then it’s settled.” But as he sat down. There was the faintest hint of a smirk on his face.
The front doors of WishUpon opened with a firm, deliberate push. In stepped Scrooge McDuck… coat neat, posture sharp, eyes already scanning everything with practiced precision. He didn’t waste time. His cane tapped once against the floor as he stepped further inside, gaze narrowing slightly as he took in the lobby. “…Hmm.” Then. He spotted him. Slouched in a chair off to the side, arms crossed, expression sour… Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. Scrooge adjusted his coat slightly and walked over. “Well now,” he said, voice carrying that familiar sharpness. “Where’s the mayor, lad?” Oswald didn’t even sit up properly. “…He’s Busy,” he muttered. Scrooge raised a brow. “Busy now?” Before Oswald could elaborate, Marquinhos stepped in. Clipboard in hand. Composed. Professional.. “Mr. McDuck,” Marquinhos greeted, voice steady despite the faint tension still lingering in his posture. “Welcome.” Scrooge’s expression shifted immediately. Recognition. Then a chuckle. “Well, well- there ye are lad,” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand.
Marquinhos took it. Firm handshake. “Good to see ye again,” Scrooge added. “Thought I might’ve lost my favorite guide.” Marquinhos gave a small, polite nod. “I’m glad that you could join us today sir.” Scrooge glanced past him briefly. “…And the mayor?” “He’s tied up at the moment,” he explained. “Asked us to handle things until today.” Scrooge hummed. Quiet. Measuring. Then. He leaned slightly closer, voice dropping just a bit. “…And why exactly are you here instead Rabbit?” he asked, subtle but pointed. Oswald spoke up from behind them. “Because I’m the producer,” Oswald said, finally sitting up just enough. “I can be just as helpful as the mayor.” A pause. He added, with a slight edge: “…And his pet.” The word hung there. Sharp. Intentional. Marquinhos’ ears flicked back slightly. His eyes shifted. Just enough to shoot Oswald a look Cold.Warning. But he didn’t say anything. Scrooge, meanwhile, simply nodded. “…Aye,” he said thoughtfully. “I see.” Whether he approved or not He didn’t show it. Instead, he tapped his cane once. “Well then,” he continued. “Show me what ye’ve been improving on since I've been gone.”
As the tour began. Mark took the lead. Clipboard in hand, posture straight, voice measured as he walked Scrooge through each section explaining processes, pointing out developments, making sure every detail was accounted for. Oswald? Trailing behind. Hands in his pockets. Clearly uninterested. At one point, Sonic zipped past in the distance. Somewhere else, voices echoed from other departments. But Mark stayed focused. Soon enough they reached his lab. The moment the door opened, the atmosphere shifted. Cleaner. More structured. Blueprints pinned carefully along the walls, workstations organized with precision. Scrooge stepped in slowly, eyes immediately scanning. “…Now this,” he muttered, “is more like it.” Marquinhos moved to one of the tables, flipping a page on his clipboard. “These are current developments,” he explained, gesturing toward several blueprints. “Ongoing improvements, refinements and efficiency upgrades.” Scrooge leaned in slightly, inspecting. “Hm. Not bad.” As Mark continued explaining, Scrooge's gaze shifted.
Down. To his wrist. The device there caught his attention immediately. “…And what’s that, lad?” Marquinhos paused slightly, then lifted his arm just enough to show it. “I call this the Xtransceiver,” he said. “It’s basically a communication device.” Scrooge raised a brow. “Oh?” “It allows direct communication between all the Stars,” Mark continued. “Faster response time, coordinated efforts, no delays.” Scrooge nodded slowly. “Efficient,” he admitted. Behind them. Oswald rolled his eyes. “…Yeah, yeah. We get it, kitty can make toys.” Mark didn’t even turn. But his ears flicked. Once. Oswald scoffed quietly then turned. And walked out of the lab. The door clicked shut behind him. Scrooge noticed. His eyes shifted briefly toward the door. Then back to Marquinhos. “…Not much of a team player, is he?” Scrooge remarked casually. Mark hesitated for just a fraction of a second. “He has his moments… I honestly don’t like him but after what he went through… even he deserves some peace,” he said evenly.
Scrooge hummed again. Not fully convinced. But not pressing. Instead, he tapped his cane lightly against the floor. “…Well,” he said. “Let’s hope you make up for it lad.” Mark straightened slightly. The lab felt somehow more settled after Oswald walked out. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that made absence noticeable. His sharp eyes moved from one workstation to another, taking in every detail the organization, the structure, and the sheer volume of work laid out in careful precision. Blueprints lined the walls. Notes stacked neatly. Tools placed exactly where they should be. Nothing careless. Nothing rushed. This wasn’t just a workspace. It was maintained. “…Hm,” Scrooge muttered under his breath, stepping closer to one of the larger drafting tables. Behind him, Marquinhos stood with his clipboard, posture straight, though there was a subtle tension still lingering in his shoulders. Scrooge reached out, lifting one of the blueprints slightly. His eyes narrowed.
“…Detailed… you kinda remind of someone else lad,” he murmured. His gaze shifted again. Not to the table this time. But to Mark. More specifically. To his shoulder. To the badge pinned there. A small glint of recognition crossed Scrooge’s face. “…Now that’s new,” he said. Mark blinked once. “…What is?” “That,” Scrooge said, gesturing lightly with his cane. “Yer badge.” Marquinhos instinctively glanced down at it. “…I don’t recall ye wearin’ that before any of my visits lad,” Scrooge continued. There was a pause. Brief. “…I didn’t use to it but when we have someone as important as you coming, I try to honor WishUpon by wearing the badge,” Mark admitted. Scrooge hummed. “Well I don’t remember you ever wearing the badge in the past lad.” Mark went quiet as he looked away for a moment. Scrooge returned his attention to the blueprints. Flipping a page. Then another. His brows lifted slightly. “…Who made these?” he asked. Marquinhos didn’t hesitate this time. “I did, Mr.McDuck.” That got his attention. Fully. Scrooge straightened slightly, looking at him more directly now. “…You?” “Yes.”
There was no hesitation in his voice. No uncertainty.. Scrooge looked back down at the work in his hands. Then back at Marquinhos. “…These aren’t minor adjustments, lad,” he said. “This is foundational work.” Mark shifted slightly, setting his clipboard down on the edge of the table. “I was given the title of Chief Originator,” he explained. “After working as Mickey’s bodyguard for a few years in the beginning at my work with WishUpon.” Scrooge’s brows rose higher. “…Bodyguard?” he repeated. Mark nodded. “For a while now,” he said. “Then I transitioned into a development career… Mickey sorta just gave me the title without holding a vote, but I do what I can to try and help the people of ToonTown .” His eyes flicked briefly toward the blueprints. “I’ve held the position for years now.” Silence settled for a moment. Not uncomfortable… But heavy. Because Scrooge was thinking. His gaze moved slowly across the room again. The lab. The work. The details. Then toward the door. Still closed. Still no sign of Oswald returning. Then back towards Marquinhos.
“…Years,” Scrooge repeated quietly. There was a shift in his expression now. Subtle. But present. “…And yet,” he added, voice sharpening just slightly, “ye’re the one givin’ the tour still.” Mark didn’t respond immediately. Because there wasn’t really a good answer to that. “…Someone had to,” he said finally. Scrooge studied him. Longer this time “Besides, Pomni isn’t exactly comfortable in her position yet as a Star, and she’s still getting used to everything. Dandicus is currently busy with helping people in gardenview, and Mickey is busy…so that sorta just leaves me and Oswald,” “…Aye,” he said slowly. “I suppose so.” His cane tapped lightly against the floor. “…Strange,” he muttered. Marquinhos’ ears twitched slightly. “How so?” Scrooge gestured lightly around the lab. “With work like this,” he said, “and a title like that- ye’d think someone of yer status would be treated a bit better by the producer.”
That landed. Not harshly. Not loudly. But directly. Marquinhos’ posture stiffened, just slightly. His gaze dropped for half a second. Then lifted again. “…I’m fine where I am as of now,” he said. Even. Controlled. But not entirely convincing. He simply watched him for a moment longer. Taking in the tension. The restraint. The way he carried himself. “…If ye say so lad,” Scrooge replied. But the look in his eyes said otherwise. As Scrooge carefully set the last blueprint back on the table, the soft creak of the lab door signaled Oswald’s return. He stepped inside quietly, his usual slouched, disinterested posture still evident, though this time he paused at the threshold to take in the room. Scrooge, already eyeing the lab with his sharp, calculating gaze, didn’t immediately acknowledge that his attention remained on Mark. Marquinhos, sensing Oswald’s presence, straightened slightly and gestured toward the lab stations. “I’ll lead the tour from here,” he said calmly, his tone carrying a natural authority that made Scrooge nod in agreement. Oswald didn’t speak, simply falling into a loose shadow behind the cat, letting Mark guide the way.
As they moved through the lab, Scrooge’s cane tapped lightly against the floor. “Is Mickey almost done with his meeting?” he asked, voice carrying the weight of expectation. Oswald just shrugged lazily, as if the question didn’t concern him. “I’ll go check and see Mr.McDuck,” he said, stepping toward the doorway to leave. Scrooge blocked him subtly with the tip of his cane, leaning slightly forward. “No lad, Oswald. You’ll go see.” Mark froze, glancing down at the cane and back at Scrooge with a raised brow. “Why would he-?” Scrooge didn’t answer, letting the question hang in the air as he shifted his attention elsewhere. “Can I see what Bugs is up to? I’ve heard he’s been quite busy with making all sorts of tech.” Marquinhos nodded, guiding the way down a narrow corridor to the tech room. Inside, Bugs had just finished updating Toodles, who hovered quietly in the air, circuits softly whirring with light.
“Ah! Mr.McDuck!” Bugs greeted, walking down from a workstation with his characteristic grin. “Right on time I see!” He motioned to Toodles, who began to articulate updates in its precise mechanical voice. Scrooge leaned in, intrigued. “How was this made?” he asked, eyeing the floating device closely. Bugs waved a paw dismissively. “Well, he’s based on Mark’s original design. All I did was expand his hardware a bit and update him.” Scrooge’s gaze immediately shifted to Mark, studying the cat intently. “So… you built this?” Marquinhos’ ears twitched, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Yes. He was my project originally when I first became the Chief Originator. Bugs just improved the system without changing my core design.” Bugs leaned back casually, smirking. “Look at him- doesn’t even realize how much I upgraded him. All the credit is to both of us, kitty.” Scrooge tapped his cane thoughtfully. “Hm… impressive work, indeed. A mind like this running a project of that complexity… makes one reconsider who’s really steering the ship.”
Marquinhos merely nodded, letting Toodles continue its verbal updates, while Bugs stood back, clearly amused at how the presence of Scrooge and Mark together commanded the room. Mark and Bugs assisted, and Scrooge’s sharp gaze weighed everything in between. Oswald lingered at the edge, shrugging into his usual indifference, while Mark quietly maintained control of the tour, guiding the elder duck through the intricate world of his inventions and oversight. Minutes later Oswald returned to the lab, his steps dragging slightly, clearly still in a half-slouched, disinterested posture. He stopped in front of Scrooge, who was inspecting the last of Marquinhos’ displays, and cleared his throat. “Mickey’s ready to see you sir,” Oswald said bluntly. Mark handed his own notepad over to Mr. McDuck, the pages filled with meticulously organized notes from the lab tour. Oswald did the same, though his notepad was mostly blank with just a few scrawled words at the top. Without another word, Oswald turned and left, motioning for Marquinhos to follow.
Outside Mickey’s meeting room, Mark and Oswald waited in silence for a few moments. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Oswald leaned against the wall and started mocking the feline. “You really think he’ll listen to you?” Oswald sneered, his tone dripping with derision. “All this time, and you just sit there taking notes like some little assistant. Hardly impressive, you know. Maybe Mickey doesn’t even need you around.” Mark only stiffened, but before he could reply, the door swung open. Oswald instantly straightened, his smirk vanishing as Mickey stepped out, followed by Scrooge McDuck. “Tag along the both of you,” Mickey called over his shoulder to both of them, motioning for them to follow. Marquinhos and Oswald exchanged a glance and stepped forward. Scrooge tilted his hat, eyeing Oswald critically. “I noticed someone left during the middle of my inspection,” he said, voice sharp. Mickey’s eyes narrowed as he spun toward Mark, ready to yell. “Did you what-” he started, but froze as Mr. McDuck continued.
“No need to worry,” Scrooge said. “The whole time I was here, your… chief…” He glanced at Mark, “took down notes, listened carefully, and incorporated all my critiques. Very thorough.” Mickey’s gaze shifted to Mark, who gave a small, confident nod. Then Mickey’s eyes fell to the notepads. Mark’s was densely filled with neat, precise notes, diagrams, observations, and commentary on every corner of the lab. Oswald’s notepad, on the other hand, was almost completely blank. Mickey exhaled, a mix of relief and irritation crossing his face. “Of course,” he muttered, “the only one who did their job… was you.” He gave Marquinhos a small, approving nod. Scrooge, still observing, raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I must say, this is far more than I expected. The lad has real talent.” After Scrooge McDuck had finished his tour and was preparing to leave, Mickey turned to Oswald with a determined look. “I need to speak with you alone,” he said firmly, motioning toward a quiet hallway. Scrooge, understanding the need for privacy, nodded politely. “I’ll keep Mr. McDuck company, then,” Mark said, taking a step forward to stay near the duck, his posture relaxed but attentive.
As Oswald reluctantly trailed behind Mickey, Marquinhos began walking with Scrooge to keep him entertained. “I have to say, Mr.Aser,” Scrooge said with a rare chuckle, “I’m impressed. You’ve clearly got everything running smoothly here. I can tell this place is in excellent hands with you helping.” He gestured toward the various workstations and blueprints. “And you… you seem to know every corner of this lab.” Mark tilted his head slightly, his feline ears flicking as he gave a polite nod. “Thank you, Mr. McDuck. I was assigned to oversee operations in the development department, and I’ve been keeping track of everything that I can.” Scrooge’s eyes twinkled with approval. “Hmm, a Chief Originator, are you? Seems like Mickey picked a capable lad.” Meanwhile, back inside, Oswald leaned against the wall, arms crossed and lips pressed into a tight line, his expression sour. He glared at Marquinhos like the cat had somehow stolen the spotlight. His dislike was obvious; he'd never had a good rapport with Mark but he was restrained, waiting for an opportunity to mock or belittle him.
Mickey, sensing Oswald’s tension, decided to act. He walked up, his hands on his hips, and without asking, grabbed Marquinhos by the scarf and gently pulled him into the meeting room. The sudden motion made Oswald straighten, startled. Mickey’s eyes narrowed as he blocked the door. Inside the meeting room, Mickey shut the door with a soft click and motioned for Marquinhos to sit. He pulled out the notepad Mark had filled during Scrooge’s tour and spread it open across the table. Every page was meticulously filled with observations, notes, and schematics.
“Walk me through this,” Mickey said, pointing to a section detailing lab operations and maintenance schedules. Mark explained each part carefully how he had monitored the workflow, kept track of each Star’s progress, and documented feedback. Mickey nodded thoughtfully, impressed by both the thoroughness of the notes and the clarity with which Mark spoke. When Mickey finally closed the notepad, he leaned back in his chair and fixed Marquinhos with a pointed look. “Did Oswald really leave halfway through?” he asked, voice calm but carrying the weight of concern. Mark gave a measured nod, his ears twitching slightly. “Yes. He walked out midway. I took over the rest of the tour and guided Mr. McDuck through the lab.” Mickey sighed deeply, running a hand over his face, a mix of exasperation and relief. “I jumped to conclusions too quickly… I shouldn’t have accused you without checking.” His shoulders relaxed as he offered a warm smile. “Next time, I’ll make sure Oswald actually does his job… He’ll handle him.”
A small smile flashes across Mark’s face, as his tail flicks lightly in response. “Thank you. I appreciate that sir,” he said, his voice calm but carrying subtle satisfaction at being recognized. Mickey stood, placing a hand on Mark's shoulder. “Alright, you’re free to go for now. But after work, I want you to meet me at my house. We’ll discuss where to go for dinner.” Mark’s ears flicked in acknowledgment. “Understood, sir. I’ll be there.” Mickey gave him a soft, teasing grin. “Good. See you later.” Marquinhos left the room, tail swishing just slightly as he walked away, feeling a sense of pride and trust for the first time that day. Oswald remained outside, lips pursed and arms crossed, glaring a little less now as he realized Mickey had clearly put his faith in the cat.
I hate y'all so much for picking Unlucky :^ (Not really it was actually kinda fun writing this! :] I might do Kit-Clock next... maybe)
Don't have any art today so huh- *Hits the jig* have that :)
