He never understood humans, he didn’t trust them and he didn’t believe them to be pleasant creatures. He had every right to think that way too, considering the reputation they had with the ‘oddities’ that were the ‘domestic’ animals. The citizens of Duckburg were of that population. Walking, talking, animals that spoke and thought just as clear as a human, they were practically the same with a few clear differences. One being that they were usually significantly smaller and that they still had a few natural urges that were of their animal counterpart. In the ways of the ducks preening would be a good example. In this manner they were much different than humans, but there were those times that they got along. When they would open their cities for humans to see, some would come and it’d be a rather fun time, unity and peace. In those times Scrooge would be sure to watch closely, he practically owned the town and as such was sure to try and protect it, he’s been living there for over sixty years now after all.
But then there would be other times, wandering ducks, and a human would find them. In this manner they would find themselves staring into the barrel of a gun, telling them that they would make so much money off of the animal as a freak show or something of the luck. With these encounters, it frightened the animals of places like Duckburg, Zootopia, and others to steer clear from humans as much as possible. Hide away and lock themselves off from the human population. They didn’t need to know and they never seemed to learn, the age of their exploration has spread to the moon and the deep sea, they would never look in their own backyards where they would find them, their satellites would just turn away thinking it was some no name town off to the side. With all these negative consequences, all of these wretched encounters, one would think that the old duck would finally have his fair share of the nonsense and the interaction altogether. Well, in this sense he hasn’t. He wasn’t afraid of any humans, he was sneaky, slippery, and sly, as such he was able to study the human population and see just how they behaved under such circumstances as one of his kind stepping into their midst in the city.
What he found from execution, which aligned with the study, was that humans tend to be less active when surrounded by others of their kind. When there was an abnormality they wouldn’t do anything about it unless someone else did. He walked around as if nothing was wrong, fully clothed, standing straight, cane in his right hand and top hat on his head. If it weren’t for the webbed feat, feathers, and bill he would seem like just a short human. People stared in the city, but nobody did anything. Some questioned as he walked by but for the most part they didn’t do anything. A dog snapped at him and he turned towards it’s owner with a glare, “watch your dog! I would ‘ave sued ye for all ye got if it bit me.” He snapped sharply, which seemed to put the owner through a whirlwind of confusion. A duck had just talked to him, heavy Scottish accent lining his voice, and it was the strangest thing ever. These were the things that only happened in cartoons, not in reality. And yet there he was, Scrooge McDuck, billionaire duck walking around London as if he were one of them.
It didn’t take him long to find Baker Street, and in turn the home of the detective he was searching for. He had done his research into humanity and had come up with the idea that this man he had heard so much about was possibly one of the, if not the best detective in the world. If that was the truth than Scrooge knew he would have to search him out. He wasn’t fond of being back on British soil, for multiple reasons including his wretched own memory of a childhood he fought to flee from, but he would have to deal with it. Gently he knocked his cane against the apartment door, a sound just loud enough to catch the attention of anyone within, but not loud enough to cause discomfort or agitation. Judging by the description he’s gotten of the other though, perhaps it could lead to agitation anyways. “Is there a Sherlock Holmes living on the premises?” Scrooge inquired as soon as someone answered the door, despite his stature at a mere three feet tall, he seemed rather intimidating. Hand resting on a cane he didn’t need, left hand on his hip, neutral expression coming over his face.
“I need t’ ask him for some help.”
((If you don’t want to reply to this starter/you prefer to plot before RPing feel free to IM me, I wont be offended or upset. These starters are here solely to cut out that middle man known as awkwardness.))
