People rarely noticed things they did not wish to notice in this world. That was just as true in the modern age as it had been centuries ago.
For instance, in a world centuries beyond the forgotten barbarism of the "Age of Heroes" in St. Canard, a world with floating islands to support civilization that left the planet below them all but a memory, nobody noticed a pristine, if somewhat creepy, Victorian Manor nestled in the middle of perfectly maintained old cemetery.
Likewise, nobody would have noticed the form of an aged duck dressed as a simple janitor as he made his way inside the manor.
"Yep, yep, yep, it's been a good day," Drake Mallard commented to himself as he removed the false white beard from his chin and corrected his slouching posture to reveal a form that looked more to be in its early forties at the oldest rather than his late sixties as he had before.
"I take it everything went well, Dark darling," a voice called out from down the hall.
"Perfectly, Morg. Was there every any doubt?" Drake responded as he moved to meet his wife and gave her a gentle kiss.
"Oh I wish I could have been there with you see Gosalyn and Honker's descendants," the sorceress Mogana Macawber-Mallard responded with a slight pout as she embraced her chosen mate. Time had done even less to ravage the tall female duck than it had to Drake, if that were possible. In fact, minus a few laugh lines at the eyes, she still looked as she had when the pair had first met so many centuries ago.
"I know, dear. But it was hard enough to explain myself as a janitor to them. there was no way to explain two of us being there. You should have seen them though, Morg. Little Gosaloid looks so much like Gosalyn I almost expected her to call me Dad. And she still believed in Darkwing Duck!" Drake prodly proclaimed.
Morgana smiled indulgently at her husband as she led him to the parlor and the tea she had prepared for them. She was eager to hear how their family was faring in the strange new world that had evolved around them over the centuries. the world that insisted they were a new species and would have seen her Dark to be as much of a Monster as she technically was as a Mage-born.
Drake went on to recount how he had encountered the two after releasing them from his old easy-chairs set in the museum and spun a yarn about Darkwing's "secret origins" to entertain the pair. He had even gone so far as to give Honkulon one of his old masks as a "hanky" when the boy had sneezed.
"You could have told them the truth you know. Gosalyn's family have kept it alive all these years and she will be told eventually," Mogana chided with a smile after hearing the outlandish tale her mallard her told his many times great-granddaughter.
"Ah where's the fun in being this old if I can't entertain the little ones while they're still young enough to believe it, Morg? Besides, my new story sounded better than 'I pretty much gave up on Drake Mallard as a person for a couple of years until Gos came into my life,' doesn't it?" Darkwing asked with a self-deprecating grin.
"I suppose so, honey-wumpus," Morgana agreed with a giggle before moving in and kissing her husband on the cheek tenderly. "Now, since it's so dreadfully early I suppose it's time for breakfast and I have it all prepared for us in the dining room. And while we're there you can show me the pictures I'm sure you took of the children."
"You know me too well, Morg," Drake responded as he stood to walk beside her. As the pair made their way to the dining room he thanked his lucky stars once again for having met Morgana. And not just because she had tied their lifespans together magically as part of their wedding vows. Even after all these centuries, he just couldn't imagine his life without her. From her occasionally volatile temper, to her teasing ways, to even her sometime odd food selections he loved every part of her.
At the sight of the cobra cutlets she had prepared in addition to toast and pancakes he mentally amended Okay, maybe I could live without some of the food.
For instance, in a world centuries beyond the forgotten barbarism of the "Age of Heroes" in St. Canard, a world with floating islands to support civilization that left the planet below them all but a memory, nobody noticed a pristine, if somewhat creepy, Victorian Manor nestled in the middle of perfectly maintained old cemetery.
Likewise, nobody would have noticed the form of an aged duck dressed as a simple janitor as he made his way inside the manor.
"Yep, yep, yep, it's been a good day," Drake Mallard commented to himself as he removed the false white beard from his chin and corrected his slouching posture to reveal a form that looked more to be in its early forties at the oldest rather than his late sixties as he had before.
"I take it everything went well, Dark darling," a voice called out from down the hall.
"Perfectly, Morg. Was there every any doubt?" Drake responded as he moved to meet his wife and gave her a gentle kiss.
"Oh I wish I could have been there with you see Gosalyn and Honker's descendants," the sorceress Mogana Macawber-Mallard responded with a slight pout as she embraced her chosen mate. Time had done even less to ravage the tall female duck than it had to Drake, if that were possible. In fact, minus a few laugh lines at the eyes, she still looked as she had when the pair had first met so many centuries ago.
"I know, dear. But it was hard enough to explain myself as a janitor to them. there was no way to explain two of us being there. You should have seen them though, Morg. Little Gosaloid looks so much like Gosalyn I almost expected her to call me Dad. And she still believed in Darkwing Duck!" Drake prodly proclaimed.
Morgana smiled indulgently at her husband as she led him to the parlor and the tea she had prepared for them. She was eager to hear how their family was faring in the strange new world that had evolved around them over the centuries. the world that insisted they were a new species and would have seen her Dark to be as much of a Monster as she technically was as a Mage-born.
Drake went on to recount how he had encountered the two after releasing them from his old easy-chairs set in the museum and spun a yarn about Darkwing's "secret origins" to entertain the pair. He had even gone so far as to give Honkulon one of his old masks as a "hanky" when the boy had sneezed.
"You could have told them the truth you know. Gosalyn's family have kept it alive all these years and she will be told eventually," Mogana chided with a smile after hearing the outlandish tale her mallard her told his many times great-granddaughter.
"Ah where's the fun in being this old if I can't entertain the little ones while they're still young enough to believe it, Morg? Besides, my new story sounded better than 'I pretty much gave up on Drake Mallard as a person for a couple of years until Gos came into my life,' doesn't it?" Darkwing asked with a self-deprecating grin.
"I suppose so, honey-wumpus," Morgana agreed with a giggle before moving in and kissing her husband on the cheek tenderly. "Now, since it's so dreadfully early I suppose it's time for breakfast and I have it all prepared for us in the dining room. And while we're there you can show me the pictures I'm sure you took of the children."
"You know me too well, Morg," Drake responded as he stood to walk beside her. As the pair made their way to the dining room he thanked his lucky stars once again for having met Morgana. And not just because she had tied their lifespans together magically as part of their wedding vows. Even after all these centuries, he just couldn't imagine his life without her. From her occasionally volatile temper, to her teasing ways, to even her sometime odd food selections he loved every part of her.
At the sight of the cobra cutlets she had prepared in addition to toast and pancakes he mentally amended Okay, maybe I could live without some of the food.