Chapter Text
It was always a complete mystery to this young human, who was cast aside to an orphanage situated in Kansas City, why they were even adopted at all. A human being raised in a proximity of monsters used to be unheard of, looked down upon completely by human society. But they didn’t ever view it that way. Somebody wanted them, and that was enough. The years growing up on a ranch had enriched the young bud into the courageous, confident cowpoke they are today. Being raised by monsters meant that there was magic all around them since they were young - both literal and metaphorical. They had lit up the lives of so many around them and it was obvious the human had taken traits from each of the colourful characters that situated themselves in the Oklahoma countryside - notably Martlet Finch, their adoptive mother, and Starlo (who was basically their badass cowboy uncle who would teach the child how to farm, wrangle cattle, and be the charismatic fucker they are today), just to name a couple.
Martlet named them Clover, because luck had found its way to everybody on the ranch when that small child was brought home on that day, all those years ago.
But now Clover was older and in Westberry college way off in Soulario, Canada, and they were on their own for a while. And luck definitely wasn’t on their side. Nobody wanted to be their roommate so they took a shot in the dark in starting a human-monster equality society where they could meet monsters and humans with similar mixed upbringings, or people who were genuinely interested in what they had to say…which they missed a lot.
Needless to say, when you wear a full cowboy getup almost on a daily basis, you have your fair share of situations of bullying and mockery, which really drained them. When near most humans, the cowboy felt a gap in culture and relatability, both due to their ranch upbringings, as well as their biology as an intersex individual - which made it incredibly awkward when they eventually discovered that not every human had the mix of features that they have.
One day, however, everything changed. A nice girl named Azalea Dreemurr moved into their dorm and they finally had someone they could call a ‘best friend’. They clicked almost immediately with their humour, interests and attitudes. She’d always wake them up for their cyclical daily routines every morning, always helping to manage specific worries they had; what they would wear, eat for breakfast etc. Clover had always had assistance in scaffolding their daily routine, so a return to that comfort was very much needed.
But there was just one problem. One unchecked, terrible issue. Azzy hadn’t spent her life living her truth like Clover had, and that made her unstable. Hurtful. Vulnerable to outside sources taking advantage. Eventually, she left for the winter, cruelly breaking off their friendship entirely from personal stresses. And now the cowboy was alone again….well almost alone. The thoughts of that rather enigmatic, and apparent ex-bully, fittingly named Ducksworth, glazed over their brain during that feeling of being alone.
Meeting them at a party and drunk flirting with the duck, the rancher found them to be incredibly endearing, completely shattering their belief of personal aromanticism they’ve had their entire life. Ducky had some issues of their own, being a stereotypical jock asshole their entire life but did their absolute best to see past the way they’d acted in the past and move onto some form of redemption. With enough self-improvement, their real self even started to shine through - she was a girl, and everyone knew it…except her, ironically enough!
Now the cowboy sat in their dorm, nervously shivering both from the fear of losing Azzy as a friend, as well as the giddiness of confessing to their crush tonight. It’d been a long day - they needed to do this now.
“This feelin’...” they coarsely murmured, whilst polishing their brownish boots with some conditioner. “It’s…something I hope you feel as well, darlin’. I- uhm…crud.” They stopped, curling back onto their stitched-together quilted bedsheets, thinking about the mallard as their face practically cooked in embarrassment.
I don’t get like this, darn it! I thought I had already clarified that to myself…why is this so embarrassing to think about? Is she even gonna come and see me? Azalea’s court trial was so…messy, I wouldn’t blame them if they wanted a lil’ rest. But they did promise.
Uncerimoniously, the outdated digital phone Azzy had practically forced them to own made an ear-aching “BEEP-BEEP”ing sound, as the the cowboy swiftly rubbed the glueish shoepolish onto their trousers, and jumped at the phone, managing to turn on the screen with their now rubbery fingertips.
It’s a new message from Ducksworth.
Their excited fast breathing quickly shifted to an even faster paced choking as the air in the room choked them with an invisible rope. The message simply reads:
“Hi, I’m outside your room. I’d like you to know I’mmmmmmmmmmmm-”
They dropped the device onto the carpet with a “thunk”, scratching their head in perplexed mania as they dashed towards their door and swung it open, stepping out into the almost-empty hallway. There, in front of them, lay a dishevelled corpse of a green mallard, caked in blood which was previously oozing from their neck.
Immediately, the cowboy picked up the bird and hauled them inside, carefully placing them onto the bed whilst a rough hyperventilation ensued. She was cold to the touch, and it made Clover almost hurl. They paced back and forth, clawing at their own face and before splashing their face with cold water…but it was no use. This was real, and there was nothing they could do. They knew that, and the true sting hadn’t even hit yet, but they still just stood there, staring at the bird’s empty yellowish eyes.
“Ducky? D-darlin’?!” they screamed, pulling at the stiff feathers on the duck’s hand. “You’re not dead..you’re stronger th-than that!!” They began to shake the body aggressively, letting their tears fall into the open wound as they got close. “You ain’t dust yet, c’mon.”
The weight of her head caused the bird’s neck to make a loud ‘creak’ noise as it fell to the side, the beak causing the muscle to overstretch. There was a slight smirk visible on Ducksworth’s face as she stared lifelessly back at the rancher. Petrified of making things even worse, Clover clambered over to their phone, gripping at the floor with their nails before attempting to dial 911.
“I c-can stop this,” they whimpered, clutching the plastic cellphone to their head. “I won’t let it all be for n-nothin.”
The phone made a scratchy beep to the rancher’s ear, making them flinch slightly as they locked their jaw tightly. The device didn’t even make any indication of the signal being picked up on the other end; just a strange pulsing audio of water pouring. And then…complete garbage noise.
“Dang it!” they hissed, still trying to listen in for a voice. “Hello? I’d like to call for an ambulance-”
“HOW…INTERESTING,” a deep, calm voice muttered through the static. “THE SIXTH. THE SIXTH FALLEN HUMAN REMAINS IN THIS WORLD AS WELL…”
“What…” Clover gasped at the strange words, looking back to Ducky who is still slumped in their contorted position. “Is this…the hospital?! I NEED an ambulance.”
The voice seemed to chuckle slightly at the human’s panic, as if admiring the clear horror in their tone. “THAT WON’T BE NECESSARY AS I BELIEVE I CAN ASSIST. I AM A DOCTOR. IT SEEMS THE BIRD ISN’T GOING TO PERSIST FOR MUCH LONGER IN THEIR CURRENT STATE.”
Clover wretched again, looking at their free hand as it shakes from the tension. “Alright, d-doctor. Fix this then. Fix her…please.”
“HER.….HM…I WILL DO WHAT I CAN,” the doctor calmly stated. “THERE IS NO CERTAINTY I WILL BE ABLE TO RESTOR HER TO WHAT SHE WAS. BUT…THERE MAY BE AN OPTION THAT CAN BE…PREFERABLE FOR YOU BOTH.”
Jumping up on the spot, the cowboy sobbed further, “Y-yea? W-well get on with it! I c-can’t look…anymore.” A chittering voice could be heard in the background as the doctor seemed to take a moment of consideration. The voice they were talking to sounded happy - too happy. Clover shoved their hat onto the ground below them before awkwardly tugging at their fringe. They feel their own muscles stiffen as if paralysed. Before they could demand the doctor’s attention once more, a navy line seemed to pierce the very fabric of existence in front of them. Acting like a zipper, the line opened revealing a dark, murky texture behind it. It looked like an endless ocean and almost hypnotises the human for a moment or two.
“AN AGREEMENT…CAN BE MADE,” the voice finally responded. “I WILL RESTORE THE MONSTER, UNDER TWO…CONDITIONS.”
Fearfully, the human clambered over next to Ducky and rested their hand on her chest, feeling a faint and slowing heartbeat…and then nothing. All at once, a white, upside down heart shaped mass rose outwards into the air, gracefully soaring closer to the oceanic anomaly. It felt like everything in the room had suddenly ceased to be as Clover found themself floating in a void, staring at the glowing white heart, and noticing the large crack down the centre. Small fragments seemed to burn off of it, leaving gaps within the solid shape.
“Is that,” they started, still holding on tightly to the lifeless wing. “Is that…her soul? W-when you said you were a doctor…I-I wasn’t expectin’-”
“CONDITION ONE,” the doctor sternly interjected. “YOU AND THE BIRD ARE NOT TO ATTEMPT TO CEASE FATE. WHAT IS WRITTEN SHOULD PASS WITHOUT ISSUE - UNLESS YOU ARE CHOSEN SPECIFICALLY BY MYSELF TO STOP SAID FATE.”
Startled by the terms, Clover silently gave a thumbs-up to the void around them, trying to see if they’re being watched - because they sure as hell felt like it. The soul continued to crack and splice in front of them and it made their gut boil that nothing was being done sooner.
“What’s th-the other condition, sir?” A moment of silence on the end of the line, once more sent the human into a spiral of choking breaths, “Her soul over yonder is shattering! P-please…” Before they could speak another word, a group of small, glowing white butterflies seemed to glide through the air. They were more so swimming than flying, as they brought the strange oozing dark blue sludge through with them, eventually generating a web of liquid around the soul. “A-and who in tarnation did this to her?”
The man seemed to groan at the panicking queries, but answered as requested in his solemn voice, “THE PERPETRATOR WAS…ahem…DEALT WITH. YOU MUSTN’T CONCERN YOURSELF WITH THAT. NOW, CONDITION TWO…THE ADJUSTMENTS I AM MAKING TO THE BIRD’S SOUL MAY TAKE A FEW DAYS TO TAKE FULL EFFECT. MAKE SURE TO KEEP THE BODY WARM AT ALL COSTS DURING THIS STAGE FOR MAXIMUM COMFORT, ALTHOUGH EVEN THEN THERE ARE…RISKS.”
“A-and I’m sayin’ again, I’ll do anythin’!” they scream into the void, not even directing their yelling into the receiver anymore. The everpresent void itself seemed to do the talking, and it seemed to hold all the cards in this situation, so Clover didn’t dare step out of line or question anymore..
“DO YOU ACCEPT THE RISK OF PAIN AND SEIZURE?”
“What?! I- y-yeah…I’ll help her through it…” they sobbed into their bandana, watching as the butterflies seemed to sew and weave into the gaps of the soul, making it whole once more. “W-will her throat be alright?”
Again, the voice graciously gave an answer, “IT WILL HEAL EXTERNALLY IMMEDIATELY.” Just as it said this, Clover looked over to the bird’s sealed wound, the dried blood seemingly cleaned completely from the body. “AS FOR HER VOICE… DON’T EXPECT MUCH IMMEDIATELY.”
Too stunned to speak, the cowpoke stared into that soul once more, an outline of sheet white emanating around it and flying back into the portal. Essence was being traded back and forth and, again, Clover dared not to question it. “Th-thank you for doin’ this, doctor…whoever you are.” All at once, colour seemed to return as the room returned to its original state as the phone hung up and the portal, a presence which Clover struggled to even recall seconds later, was gone entirely. As for the soul, the human quickly grabbed it out of the air in their vulnerable state, moving over to the bed and slowly pressing it into Ducky’s stomach.
They stared anxiously at the body, still half expecting it to turn into dust before their very eyes - their crush nothing but a pile of soot. Instead however…fate had very much been altered. Ducksworth slowly opens her eyes.
“Cuh…Cloh…CLOVER!” Ducky screamed in surprise at the cowboy’s glaring gaze mere inches away from her face. Kicking Clover in the chest, they fly back and lie flat on their floor, landing headfirst into their hat.
Scrambling to their feet, they dashed back to the bird’s side, making sure to pull her in as close as possible so they could savour her pulse. Her lifeforce. Even though it was in fact a strange encounter, it was quite literally a miracle. A necromantic miracle. The coldness of the room had all but vanished as the human’s grin seemed to warm up the place to a frighteningly high temp.
“I’m here,” they gleamed, massaging the duck’s cheek with their thumb. “I never left… y-you’re alright now. I got a doctor and they fixed y’up, see?” They move a hand down to the mallard’s neck, tracing the barely visible slash wound. “Who attacked you, darlin’? A-are you feeling alright? Do you need anything? Water…? Er, food? I got some tasty granola in the cupboard- o-or we can order something? I’m just happy to s-see you breathin’ and staring with those bright green scleras of yours…wait- that’s not right they were yellow before…strange side effect of bringing you back - it’s gotta be. Oh- sorry you don’t look too impressed with my jawin’-”
“C...c….cohld,” she murmured softly, straining her vocal chords to produce the sound. Pointing to the bathroom, the duck pushes back Clover and takes about two steps forward until her balance fails her and she collapses onto the floor with a thump. “To…too….c-cold.”
Nodding at the struggle, the cowpoke picked the bird up bridal-style before thoughtlessly undressing her out of her baggy, button-up white shirt and dress trousers, and placing her into the bathtub, running a hot shower over her hair. “I gotcha dear, just…let adam’s ale wash over you, m’kay?” Attempting to avoid perversion, the blushing student made their best efforts to keep eye contact. This introduced even more questions into their brain, however.
Those eyes…they sure as hell ain’t yellow no more. More of an aqua green. They look like they’re practically glowing. They’re pretty darn alluring…
Her hair too. It looks a lot thicker than it was. She was never lyin’ about it either, jet black as a perfect winter evening sky.
“Could you speak to me, darlin’?” Clover whispered as the fowl seemed to purr as the heat touched her feathers, seemingly ignoring the human’s question entirely. “A-alrighty then…I…I was told to bring yer somewhere warm so…I’m gonna make a quick call, alright?” She seemed to respond to this one, nodding her head up and down stiffly, as if her neck was being restrained by an invisible force. Trudging out of the bathroom, but still keeping Ducky in view, Clover picked up their phone once more and switched to their contacts, selecting one of the few saved numbers on the device. It was listed as ‘Home’.
Ducksworth concurrently opened their beak slightly, allowing the sterilised water to run over their tongue so they could savour the sensation. The steam practically completely clouded her vision but she didn’t mind. Waking up from nearly dying was what she put all of her focus into, and somehow she knew the cause was supernatural, it had to be. But if it was, why were there no consequences? Unless they were to come and if so, angel be damned she was going to face it head on.
Thoughtlessly, she attempted to stand again - this time slipping onto her front as numerous green feathers fall away and clog up the drain as she does so. Before deciding to move properly, she grabbed at a hair product of Azzy’s labelled ‘Pristine Clean for Lionesses’ from the side of the tub and began scrubbing it into her feathers, her fingers becoming locked as she tried to massage it into her arms.
Everyone seems to be a fan of this stuff, lion or not. I knew Chantelle shouldn’t have given me a hard time about using it, hah!
Eventually the force gave way and she’s able to rub more in - taking a clump more feathers out in the process. Turning off the water from a knob situated on a nearby wall, Ducky used what little strength she has to get onto the floor.
One…two…three…four…five.
“Ack!” She hauled herself up, making a splatting sound as she hit the floor. Half expecting Clover to come back and dote on her once more (and the other half semi-desperately wanting them to), she reared her beak towards the door and saw the human anxiously rambling to themself on the phone. It was a fairly endearing sight, considering the last hour feeling like a nightmare come true. When shaking herself off and allowing her breathing to slow, she noticed a distinct calming lightness to her breathing as a misty cloud exited her beak indicating how cold she still truly was.
Turning herself around to the wall length mirror and wiping away at the condensation, she was finally able to get a good look at herself. Forcing a crooked smile, like she always has, she could feel the hollow sensation of a body which doesn’t match how she feels staring back at her.
Wait.
The way her bright green eyes peered back at her sent her into a coughing fit from the surprise, and all of the steam. Clover should’ve really opened a window, with how warm the water was. “Guh…gr-...een,” she stammered in shock, scooting closer and widening her eyelids with her feathery hands. She’d come back different somehow…whatever had happened. Was this the consequences?
Did I come back wrong?
Finally managing to retain a steady sense of balance on her webbed feet, the mallard stood up tall noticing their figure had shifted a little. Their feathers fell to their sides in a more appealing way than they remember, a rim of lighter feathers had begun sprouting around where her torso meets her legs. The icing on the cake was that her dysphoria felt less intense than it always had.
Gritting her teeth tightly, she ran back into the main room and grabbed at a change of clothes and a large, hooded purple jacket from Clover’s closet, before running back into the bathroom, making sure to change at a rate where the cowboy’s obvious piqued curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied with an answer. It was too soon to know what was happening, and if she was turning into some unimaginable horror, she wanted to prolong the revelation.
“Howdy,” Clover sweetly muttered, pulling Ducky into their neck as they practically smother her. “Good thinkin’. You’re gonna need those layers if we wanna warm you back up. By the way, you smell l-lovely. Now… I need you to know that I would never lie to you alright? Some otherworldly entity made darn sure you wouldn’t die, and I made a deal with it. It said we can’t interfere with whatever it has planned - whatever they mean by that. Seemed like a wobblin’ jaw to me but, y'know. I just wanted you back so I didn’t ask any questions. If it comes to bite us in the butt later, I’ll take responsibility.”
Pulling away from the hug, the flustered bird simply stated, “It…It’s…fah…fine.”
“Well…if you ever want to talk more about things, I’m here. Okay darlin’,” they airily uttered, doing their best to remain calm after everything by digging their nails into the base of their palm. They then noticed the girl staring at them for a long period of time and suddenly find themself looking intently at the ground. “Mighty sorry for callin’ you that so much. I just-
“N-no…sorries…,” she interrupted, her voice sounding more gentle than she and Clover had ever heard. Ducky gasped a little, coughing to clear the possible buildup causing her vocal texture. “Darl..ahn…”
“That’s cool,” they smirked, elbowing her jokingly. “Now, darlin’, I was just about to say, er, I called my folks from Oklahoma and…they said they wouldn’t mind if you came and stayed there over the holidays while you recover from all this. I was going to go anyway but it’s…safe, isolated, and incredibly friendly. Oh- unless you wanna go and stay with your dad-”
“Ruh…ranch,” she honked abruptly, nodding her head. “F-fre…sh..stah…stah…”
'You need a fresh start after everythin’, they said as they tipped their hat. “I definitely get that. It’s gonna be a long four day trip across the states. Fun right? I’ll be with you, every step of the way.”
The fowl rushed into another intense hug, “Thank…”
“Don’t thank me until we get there, birdie,” they chided, grasping her wrists staring into her irises. They seemed to both find themselves entranced in each other for a second, as a deep violet blushing arises from the girl’s cheeks, and a crimson from that of the cowboy’s. “N-now, er, let’s get packed and hightail it out of here, yeah? I have enough spare cash to get us there, and I can yarn the hours away with stories of my upbringin’ there too. I mean if you’re interested. You alright with that?.”
“Mhm,” she shyly smiled, resting herself back on the bed whilst Clover began to pack.
Occasional exchanges of intermittent glances between the pair, as they silently admired each other’s gratitude for being in each other’s life, provided an ever needed break from both’s recent exertion of vocal capabilities. Clover could be calm knowing they still have a chance to grow closer with their college crush and Ducky could rest her aching vocal chords.
-
“Two cross country tickets to Detroit please,” Clover enthusiastically bowed, thumping a wad of crumpled notes onto the small window next to the bus driver’s seating area. “We’re headed to east Oklahoma, so I’m assuming we have to transfer in Michigan, yeah?”
The young bus driver gave the human a thumbs up, “That’s right but, uh, are you and the bird gonna be alright sitting still for that long? My advice would be to take breaks when you can.”
The cowboy nodded, “I agree. She’s- THEY are gonna get rest breaks whenever they want em. But if yer’ could leave lickety split when you can, it’d be mightily appreciated.”
“Of course, will do…we’re leaving in five minutes,” the driver hastily replied, hiding his blush from Clover’s charismatic way of speaking, and handing them both large slips of paper which displayed the details of their journey.
Moving down the surprisingly slim lane between the seats, the pair dragged their suitcases to their seats. Ducky grabbed hers with both arms and attempted to lift it up to the storage area above, failing miserably from the weakness in her muscles. Clover shot her a smirk which read as, ‘Want help darlin’?’ She squinted before trying again, pushing further and further into the air until it fell back slightly, with only her beak to catch it. A quick cracking noise caused Clover to immediately grab the bag and shove it onto the shelf with little struggle at all, followed by their own (much larger) case of belongings.
“You can ask for help if you want it, y’know,” Clover softly murmured, guiding Ducky by the shoulders and into her seat. “I know you have this whole ego thinking about being immasculated, but that's important when yer’ still recovering. There’s plenty of time for showing off your ‘masculinity’ to me on the farm,” they winked, admiring the silent but clear sense of humour Ducky is finding in their teasing . “I guarantee my folks won’t have you living there for free, so you’ve got that to look forward to. But…hey, if you end up needing help…don’t be afraid to ask for it okay? I’ve got your back, doll.”
Before long, the bus shuddered in its static position before the engine roared, waking up the several sleeping monsters and humans who must have been waiting for the vehicle to finally leave. At first motion was slow, the nearby sitka spruce trees moving past gracefully as they turned a corner into an iridescently lit forest, the sunlight only just managing to breach the clusters of branches above them.
And they were off.
Doll...does that cowbiy really think they’re getting to me with their…cute nicknames? Most definitely not.
Within minutes, Ducksworth found her soft black tufts of hair resting against the human’s stubbly cheek. Clover gave a short exhale through their nose, attempting to be as nonchalant about the gesture as they possibly could. They both watched out the window as the forests disappeared and the busy motorway and countless agricultural fields came into view, the distinct smell of pollen and icy rain filling their nostrils. Ducky’s beak began to crumble ever so slightly from the suitcase’s impact but it wasn’t noticeable to either of them.
“Y’know, it’s odd,” Clover finally whispered to the drifting Duck. “It wasn’t this quiet coming up here for the first semester. I guess the cold really gets to people…”
Ducky darts her eyes towards Clover’s and nods insightfully, pulling out her phone notes app and typing, ‘You also don’t have my beak blabbering at you every few seconds.’
“Aw c’mon! I like your chit chat,” they sighed. “I’m sorry things had to go the way they did…I’d love to hear your beak ‘blabbering’ at me again in the future in all honesty.” They unzipped a small rucksack with an awkward ‘shffff’ noise, pulling out a sandwich and offering it to the bird. “But right now you’ve gotta regain that strength of yours, right?”
She coughed in response, rubbing at her beak before sitting upright again. Taking the sandwich in one wing, she scoffed the entire thing in a few bites. “N-needed…that,” she chuckled before leaning toward the window, revealing half the seat to be covered in her old green feathers.
“I thought so! Also hey,” they started. “You’re shedding a lot. I thought mallards molted in the summer, I remember reading about it…a while ago.” Ducky turned around and shrugged before admiring the sights further, more cities coming and going every hour or so. It was as if she was finally leaving her past behind, finally able to move past all of the stuff which made up her college reputation. Now there was no pressure. No jocks. No academic struggles. Just a kind cowpoke, and the open road.
The more Ducky reflected on herself, the more she remembered. The way she herself had threatened and beaten up so many students just for being themselves; it all made her sick to her core. The way she was slashed in an alleyway and could’ve died alone makes her shudder slightly.
Do I…deserve to have survived it? I don’t even know how comforted I am by all of this treatment they’re giving me. They’re so…gentle with me and I’ve never felt this connected to someone before… it’s scaring me…especially with how I hurt Chantelle and my other exes with my cruel attitudes and toxic tendencies. There’s so many people I’ve done that to. It can’t be you as well Clover, I won’t let myself slip up again- not that we’re dating offcourse it's just… we’re close, and I appreciate them. And I’d tell them that right now if it didn’t hurt like hell to talk.
It’s already been hours on this bus, I wouldn't have thought they’d be as attentive as they’re currently being. Shit. They’re looking at me again with those deep brown eyes…I better stare back.
“What’s up, birdie,” Clover smirked, ruffling Ducky’s hair gently. “You look like you still need somethin’. Are you still hungry? Here.” They held out their own sandwich to her face, “You need this more than I do. Plus, we should be getting to Detroit soon. So we can stock up at a gas station before we go to the next bus. Does all that sound alright?”
She made a puppy-like yip in response, before grabbing the sandwich with her beak and downing it in record time, before spotting a bottle of water in the bag and doing the same thing. She gasped in relief at the satisfaction of actually hydrating again. The monster had been so occupied trying to prevent whatever shifts are happening to her physically, that she had attempted to stop consumption entirely - which would never have worked for long, especially with her insides practically crying out.
What is happening to me? My head feels a lot lighter than it used to; it feels like I can actually think properly for the first time in years…
The rancher suddenly stood up and grabbed both suitcases before snapping their fingers in the bird’s face. “Hey,” they pout. “Hey, daydreamer. We’re here.”
-
As the pair shambled under the cold, artificial lighting of the station, Ducksworth charged towards the slushie machine. She grabbed a cup and began pouring every flavour possible into the cup until it mixed into a brownish sludge, holding it outward to the pretty human with a rather desperate expression on her face.
“You want…that? I woulda thought you’d need to warm up more but… alright, darlin’,” Clover walked over to the counter, leaning forward towards the shopkeeper who looked equally perplexed at Ducky’s drink of choice as they did. “One of those and…” They grabbed a can of store-brand root beer from a fridge shelf. “One of these, thanks.”
Leaning against the counter, Ducky began fanning away at herself. She was definitely far from the cold touch of death, and more so experiencing what could best be described as the sweatiness of adolescence. Quickly shimmying around the corner, out of sight, Ducky ran into the bathroom, and unzipped the baggy coat, throwing it to the ground as she struggled to remove her wings from the tight arm holes.
Quickly moving to the faucet and running the tap, she looked deep into the mirror once more, enamoured by the new changes. Her feather pattern had shifted completely, with a vibrant, more turquoise colouring growing through in patches where her other feathers had fallen out. She took a step back, knocking into the cubicle after noticing how her body had changed too. Her softer face shape…a curvier figure with a more narrow frame showing from under her vest. For a moment she considered going to show Clover in a blind state of excitement, but then she noticed her swollen neck.
What the fuck is THAT?
Pressing her feathers to it, a sharp pain fell across her entire being as she groaned in pain. A mixture of jingling spurs and footsteps could be heard as the human rushed in, so Ducky made swift effort to grab and quickly fasten her jacket with a loud ‘ziiiiiip’ing noise
“Howdy, I was just gonna come check on you,” Clover hummed. “Are you doin’ alright-”
Jolting inside the cubicle, Ducky began to spew aggressively into the toilet, a deep clacking noise ringing out as a chunk of ‘mass’ splashed down into the bowl. Groaning, she just sat there, on her knees, shivering as Clover gently massaged her back and, by extension, her neck - which itself seemed to detense through this action.
“Goodness…” they cried, stumbling back and landing on the floor next to you. “Your beak…it’s-”
Ducky turned around on her knees to face them, “H…huh?” Ducky felt her face, her beak…it felt longer. Protruding in a more soft, arrowish motion, standing up and glaring forward made it all the more obvious. A small basal knob sat between her eyes and bill, with small black arches connecting the inner eyeline towards it. “Ghhn…soh…sorry…”
The rancher shook their head, coming back to their senses. “The doctor guy did say there would be…changes. I just didn’t- I…I’m sorry.”
“Wh..what did…I suh…say? N-no s…..sorries,” she chided, chuckling slightly at the ridiculousness of the situation before standing up again, shaking herself off from the strange metamorphosis.
-
Carefully guiding her outside and gathering both of their drinks, Clover sat down on the curb with the bird, whistling to themself as they did. The early morning sun shone pink as it crept over the horizon, reflecting off of the human’s glasses. “So…good news, darlin’. I was talkin’ to the cashier and apparently this next bus will get us to where we need to be for my ma to pick us up...do you…want to talk about what just happened to you?”
She immediately shook her head, putting her hood up and pulling the draw strings tightly, so only her new light blue beak was visible. More silence from her is all that followed until the bus arrived, which gave the human time to think about the situation.
I suppose that man did a ‘reset’ on her soul which is causing all of this. I remember what Ducky told me about her mother Selene…and all the other women in their family… they’re all swans. And now with that new beak I think I know what’s happening to her. It’s darn funny that she’s growin’ as a person both mentally and physically…remarkable even. But…I reckon she’s still got a lot of those sour thoughts clouding her true feelings, blockin’ out the revelation. I mean- hell, she hasn’t even told me she’s a girl but…it’s so obvious and she can’t admit it. I just have to wait for her to figure it out…she just might fight back a bit because of her trauma. I’ll help where I can. From this point on, I’m devotin’ myself to her happiness.
Soon enough, the next coach pulled up. It seemed like it had DEFINITELY seen better days but…the tickets were cheap and the pair were likely going to spend most of the time fast asleep so it didn’t matter anyhow. After once more sorting the ordeal with their suitcases, Clover made sure to offer Ducky the window seat so she could be as cosy as possible. Shuffling into her rather hard-topped seat, she leaned away from the human and wrapped her arms around herself tightly. Noticing this, the cowboy slowly inched their way to merely inches away, practically air spooning her. They didn’t want to push boundaries at all costs.
The faint sounds of whooshing were immensely easy to drift off to sleep to, as Clover tipped the front of their hat in front of their eyes and crossed their legs. There was a faint smell of bird sweat as Clover sensed their crush practically cooking in their coat. Best not to bother her, they thought as their mind wandered towards unconsciousness.
All at once, a faint but very anguished sobbing awoke the rancher from their intermittent slumber. It was her. Looking out at the stars, at her shifting reflection in the window as more feathers fell out of her face. It took Clover a good few seconds to notice that she was smiling at herself, true euphoric joy - likely for the first time ever. She slowly unzipped her jacket, and looked herself up and down, a slight swelling in her chest area making it ever more clear that she was in fact transitioning (at an incredibly fast rate). She moved her hands across her cheeks, then down her rubbery beak, then down to her torso. She scoffed a little at her reflection, astounded by how monster soul magic works - and how someone even managed to cause something so beautiful to happen. And it happened to her of all monsters.
She continued to sniffle and hiccup at the sensations and the changes, all the while Clover carefully thought about something to say. For a second, they could swear they could see her newly pigmented eyes glowing within the darkness. They didn’t want to scare her, or make her snap at them for prying way too fast into this version of her which was slowly revealing itself. Even her hair feathers were almost at shoulder length now. They could call her pretty. Or tell her she looks like herself, which was very much true. Instead, the human caringly and softly whispered, “What’s your name?”
“Fuck!” she screamed, swinging her arm around and punching Clover in the stomach out of reflex…and habit.
The cowpoke took a deep breath, shocked by the entire nature of her response. “Crud, my bad!,” they blissfully acknowledged whilst adjusting their glasses which had fallen into their lap after the punch. “Even in your state, you’’ve got a killer right hook…augh.”
“Ugh,” she groaned, shuffling into her jacket and zipping it up again. “H..how…long have ...wuh…we s-slept?”
The human looked at their copper wristwatch and gasped, “Around…36 hours. I suppose we needed it, huh?” The bird sighed before scooting back over to Clover and giving them a tight hug, her now-larger wings wrapping around the rancher. “I th-thought you were upset with me, darlin’.”
“Darla,” she simply replied with no struggle, darting her eyes to the floor. “I like that name b-because you’ve basically called me that since we met.”
Clover gawked at how fitting it was “C-cute name…it suits you, Darla. I mean you couldn’t keep the other one since y’know…you’re becoming a swan- wait a sec…you’re talkin’ clearly!”
“I-” she started, hearing the tone and texture in her voice back to herself, a less restrained way of speaking than what she was used to before her incident. The voice exiting her was identical to what her mother used to sound like, and it made her start to well up and sob again. “I mean…it feels easy in the dark like this. I sound…nice. Great even…!”
Clover found themself blushing at the girl, again, “Darkness…huh. Well I have all of my best conversations at night, so we’d best make sure to make the most of it where we can. You sound…nice by the by- I don’t wanna sound like one of those dull flannel mouths but…you do.”
“W-Well…I’ve been practicing in private,” she stammered “When Chantelle and Jenn weren’t home. But uh- this sounds a lot better than I did then.” The human cracked their knuckles before pulling out some granola-based trail mix and sharing it with the girl, who used her new thinner beat to pick out as many dried fruits as she could. “Yum.”
“Hey, save me some!” they chortled. “Or don’t, I don’t mind the bland fibres, just as long as yer’ getting through this alright. If anything, I should be getting you something heavier to assist with those shifts your body is undergoing.”
She scoffed, “I’m not THAT different, dork.”
“You’re developin’ the equivalent of bird breasts Darla,” they blankly responded, gesturing with exaggerated arching motions around her chest area. “Also, not a duck anymore…and for what it’s worth, I don’t want this magic giving you pain and seizures… which that doctor said COULD happen.”
Numerous fragments of chewed up dried fruits fell back into the bag as Darla’s beak swung open, “I- uhm fuck. I was wondering why my chest felt so stingy. Fine…also your jokes stink.”
“If you’re insulting my humour, you're insulting my uncle Starlo’s humour. So watch yer’ jabbin’, missy,” they scowled teasingly, shovelling more dried granola into their mouth. “We’re a day or so from the town we’re getting picked up from…and I remember they have a killer diner there run by my good buddy Sunny. They should be able to provide better sustenance than this.”
A long, aching grumble rang out from Darla’s stomach, “It better be greasy.”
“Ditto, birdie,” they replied gruffly. “Anything else you’d want to discuss while you’re able to be shootin’ the breeze with yours truly?”
Taking a sip from her melted slushie slop, Darla zipped her coat back up to keep herself warm as the bus’ air conditioning seemed to blast specifically in the pair’s direction. “Hmm…I don’t really have anything more I’d feel comfortable with unpacking right now. It feels like my heart is going ten to the dozen, and my emotions are all out of whack.”
Admiring the bird’s careful acknowledgement of her cranky attitude potentially leading to her uncontrollably blowing up, Clover took out a small brown leather file from their rucksack. It looked well tended to, and had the caption ‘My Photo Album’ deeply engraved in the cover. Whatever was inside instantly piqued the bird’s attention as she made a loud ‘honk’ noise in surprise at the gesture.
Learning more about them could be fun! It’ll at least give me some preparation for the types of people I’m going to be dealing with for the next month.
“So this is my mother,” Clover started, pointing at a cheery looking bluebird in an old polaroid holding a small wooden hammer. Next to her was a small child donning a cap a few sizes too large. The pair looked happy, and it gave Darla a lump in her throat considering the fate of her own mother. “And that little rascal’s me. As you can see, my infectious smile hasn’t changed in the slightest…apart from I have fewer missing teeth now I s’pose.”
As the sun began to rise, Darla gave the rancher a comforting grunt and a circling hand gesture to continue talking, as, once again, she now couldn’t.
“And this over here,” they began as they signalled Darla to crane her neck closer, to which she did so with great struggle. A loud clacking of bone alerts the human as they gently placed the album in Darla’s lap, rather than making her do all the work. “This is my Uncle Starlo, I call him Pops as he’s sort of like a dad, ‘cept I know for a fact he doesn’t want that sorta responsibility. Oh and that there is Ceroba and Chujin Ketsukane…unfortunately the latter is no longer with us, but they’re both amazing monsters.
Darla sniffled, clutching the book snuggly against her thighs, “D-died?”
“It’s tragic, but Ceroba’s doing really well these days since her daughter Kanako woke up from her coma,” Clover added, trying to be as vague as possible. “She’s a good mother. Really strong and confident in her situation - she runs a tight ship at the cantina down at the ranch, it’s great there. You’ll love it!”
Rolling her eyes, she focuses back on the photo of Kanako, “S-ssseems….p-pleasant.”
“Darn right she is,” they chided, taking off their hat and wiping the sweat off their brow. “We uh…used to be childhood sweethearts. Didn’t work out though since… I was like 8 and immature. And then I never had those feelings, y’know…the ones everyone tells you you’re supposed to have.” Darla tilts her head in confusion. “I made the decision that I was probably aromantic quite early on. It helped a lot that ma is too.”
“...N-neat,” Darla responded, trying to fight through her raspiness to match that smooth, girlish voice she was able to maintain when the sun was down.
Fuck. It was so obvious. I need to get any ideas of me…and them…away. The chance of them actually liking me was basically zero anyways, but I guess this just seals the deal.
Avoiding eye contact and staring out the window to make her watery eyes less apparent to the human, she continued, “Fuh…Frisk a-and…C-Chara?”
“We’re really close, but it ain’t romantic,” they confirmed, spraying some perfume on their neck. “We just like to have fun together. I met the odd sticks when I first got to Westberry at the human-monster mixer. Since I grew up with mainly monsters, I wanted to see what other humans were like. So…now we fuck about every week or so, if you catch my drift…” Catching notice in Darla’s solace at the conversation topic, the cowpoke, like usual, turned a bright red, realising their ‘decision’ in their own lack of romantic interests may be a little outdated now. “The three of us are queer platonic buddies, y’know?”
The bird nodded before scratching at her neck from rather alarming shoots of pain from her vertebrae grinding together. “Ow…OW! Y-...yeah…..I…know.” Her feathers seemed to stand on end as her head seemed to glide to the height of Clovers - something previously impossible unless she was wearing her platformed boots…when she was a duck. Creating loud ‘crack’ing noises, her neck extended like a spring. Resting her head on the seat in front, she began to breathe heavily as heat seemed to radiate off of her. “Hurts…”
Urgently, the human rummaged through their rucksack once more, pulling out an assortment of pills, along with more water to drink. Darla forced it down her throat as her neck seemed to smoothen out again, now thrice the length it was before. Clover gently placed their hand on her back and began gently stroking in a horizontal motion, “There, there, darlin’. You just…rest up.” Nearby passengers were attempting to poke their heads around the seats to see what was occurring, but Clover gave them a stern scowl which read clearly as ‘mind your own darn business’.
-
As the bus jolted to an abrupt stop, Clover was broken out of their slumber by accidentally slamming Darla against the window. Groaning and flustered, they attempted to wake her up. “Crud, sorry. W-we made it to Oklahoma, you ready to go?”
The swan stumbled upwards to her feet, completely forgetting her new height resulting in an intense crash into the low ceiling of the vehicle, “Ouch, y…yes.”
The streets were filled with bustling monsters and humans making their daily commutes around their neighbourhoods, attempting to stay on the footpaths despite most of them being covered up by dirt. Darla waddled forward, clutching at her stomach as more shooting pains greeted her every sense, there was motion happening under her clothing causing overall body balance to be practically impossible. She felt her crotch almost go in on itself, and thought it best to treat it as a ‘later issue’. Taking a moment to sit on a bench and gather her surroundings, she realised how much she was practically cooking in her jacket and took it off.
“Okay…I managed to get all the luggage-,” they stopped in front of Darla before practically gawking at her new form, still adjusting to the swan shaped girl.. “Hah, y-yeah it’s not a great idea to wear that right now. For some reason winter days have been surprisingly warm recently. You look really-”A group of monsters who clearly recognised the human began to wave from a cafe across the street, “Hiyah Clovah, come on in,” one yells in a joyous manner, whilst wagging a large, bushy tail. “Sunny’s gonna call yer momma to come n’ pick you both up.”
Darla attempted to speak properly the best she can to grab Clover’s attention “I look…r-really…what?”
“Well I’ll be,” they grinned and approach the crowd of four, barely hearing the bird’s struggling query. “How’ve you all been keepin’?”
“Just great thanks for asking Clover,” a slim fish monster responded whilst posing dramatically. “We were just going to head inside if you and your-” They narrow their eyes while staring at the clearly overheating Swan. “Do you both want to get a booth with us whilst you wait?”
Who the hell are these lunatics? Clover didn’t mention them… and they’re all staring. Am I supposed to say something?
The cowboy nodded as the largest of the group bounds over and grabs the two suitcases with one hand before gesturing to the door, “C’mon, I’m hungry. Moray, make sure the goose makes it inside okay.”
“Alright, Ed. Also she’s a swan, not a goose, dimwit,” Moray groaned, trudging along the dusty path and bowing before the bird. “And who might you be, young lady?”
Lady? What is she- oh god I need to find a mirror when I get to that ranch. I’d check on my phone but it’s dead and oh god. This is exciting but...OH GOD.
“Ahem, your name?” the gilled-monster reiterated.
“Ducksw-” she started out of habit, chuckling to herself about how she doesn’t even need to hear that name anymore. “…Darla.”
“Well Darla,” Moray smirked knowingly. “Welcome to Oasis Valley, you’ll probably want to travel from the ranch down here often to explore, trust me. C’mon inside the cafe anyhow, proper introductions are in order.”
The cowpoke jogged over to them both with a concerned expression, “Is…hah…she alright, Moray?”
“She seems to be rather travel lagged,” they stated, filing at their nails out of boredom. “It seems it’s not the only thing she’s adjusting to-”
The swan stormed past toward the cafe, shoving Moray aside for prying. She feels a moment of her old sense of authority return from her past life for a moment as she sneers toward Clover, who looks back unamused and concerned at the whole ordeal.
“I thought that asshole was a duck, Clover,” they frowned, clenching their fists tightly. “I put my guard down when I thought it was someone else.”
“It’s a long…story,” Clover sulked. “She’s going through a lot emotionally right now, and I KNOW that ain’t no excuse for doin’ what she just did. But trust me on this - she ain’t as bad as she was when she was picking on Olive.”
Moray’s solemn expression returned to a smug one, “You have a look in your eyes, you really trust her. Also, last I heard she wasn’t going by her either, so I’m sure this situation definitely has some layers to it.” They glance towards the cafe where a clearly now guilt-ridden swan is waiting patiently so she can apologise.
-
The interior of the cafe is extremely classy, as they glare in wonder at it all; mahogany lined seating with red cushioning, retro tiled flooring, and large graphics of an eclipse plastered across every window. Clover managed to spot a rather large booth for the rag-tag group to hang out in, silently gesturing for Darla to sit closest to the bathroom in case her body changed even further. Nodding reassuringly to the swan, Clover began to speak.
“Howdy everyone! This is my close friend Darla,” they simpered. “She wanted to stay at the ranch over the summer due to some…personal complications.”
“Howdy Darla!” the group yelled in synch with one another, creating an awkward harmony.
A small mammal-like monster from before spoke up on her own, “I’m Mooch, do you have any valuables that you need looked aftah?”
“Ugh,” Moray rolled their eyes whilst digging into some diner fries covered in barbecue sauce. “How about we not treat the newcomer to being robbed, eh Mooch?
“You’re no fun,” she groaned, grabbing a handful of sauce sachets and stuffing them into a satchel to use for later. “Ed’s already stolen it all, ain’t he?”
The large pink creature bellowed, “I’m holdin’ it for the rancher and the jock until Martlet arrives, paws off.”
Darla gives Clover a betrayed glance which reads as ‘How much do these people KNOW about the terrible things I’ve done?’
“Uh- she’s not a jock no more,” the human interjects, quite literally throwing their hat into the ring to join in with the sauce-napping. “She quit recently.”
“Good choice,” a deep voice called out from yet another one of the group members who donned a large tophat. “It’s not a good culture to be a part of, especially as a growing girl like you. It’s smart that you did that, you’ve already made a good first impression with me, Miss Darla.” They hold out their hand for a handshake, which Darla weakly accepts, trying to preserve as much of her energy - and overall social battery - as she can. “Not much of a talker, are you…? Well, since we’re doing introductions my name is Ace.
“They call us the feisty five, usually,” Moray sighed.
Mooch giggled, “But since good old North Star’s out in the fields until tomorrow, we can only call ourselves the equally-fiesty four!”
“Yeah, you make up enough for two don’t you, Mooch,” Ace chided whilst shuffling a deck of cards between his gloved hands. “So you met Darla in Soulario, Clover?”
Clover blushed, their eyes practically glowing as the conversation was now focused back on the topic of the swan. "Sure did, at a party out of all places!”
“Right on Cloves,” another human added standing above them with a tray of several burgers Clover had ordered for Darla themselves. “Is the big city treating you well?”
Jolting up on the spot, Clover fist bumped the apron-wearing individual, “It’s wonderful to see you again, Sunny, you rascal!”
“Rascal yourself,” Sunny playfully teased, whilst placing the food in front of the hungry fowl. “I know the crowd you surround yourself with.”
Taking one bite of her burger to avoid the overwhelming amount of new (and friendly) people, Darla’s face lit up. “Mmmm…f-....food.”
Sunny elbowed Clover whilst pointing to the swan, “Hey, did you feed this stunner on the way here? She looks famished!”
“Well, it was sorta an impulsive decision-” they responded, cut short by swan hissing.
“‘Stunner’?!” Darla growled, placing her burger down with a thump.
Whilst the feisty four quietly laugh away to themselves at Darla’s own particularly ‘feisty’ mannerisms, Sunny grinned kindly at the swan. “Sorry, I just meant to say you’re quite pretty and don’t seem like the under eater type. I didn’t mean to cause offense.”
“I- oh,” Darla mumbled, embarrassed by her again resorting to violence as well as how much she appreciated the compliment. In fact she loved it. “S-sorry…”
“Hey it’s fine, I honestly didn’t know swan monsters could be any other colour than white anyhow,” Sunny tilted their head.
Clover’s head piped up like a dog being offered a treat, “Oh I know! It’s a rare bird monster pigmentation, not many have it. It’s crazy interestin’.”
Darla scoffed at the cowpoke’s immensely dorky burst of excitement, and went back to munching on her burger.
“It’s gonna be nice having you around for a bit,” Sunny smiled. “Oh wait- speaking of parties, apparently Ceroba’s throwing a fanciful shindig up at the ranch cantina tomorrow night. You better be there.
“Oh they will be,” Ace confirmed. “Especially with that being when Starlo’s gonna get back from his heavy handed harvest. The feisty…seven will be in action, if Darla wants to join the posse that is, but that’s ultimately Starlo’s call.” Mooch clapped her paws together as Darla’s beak turned into a smirk at the idea.
I could be part of a badass cowboy posse. Sounds like it could be a smart call if I want to get some respect around this place, maybe even usurp this ‘Starlo’ monster so I can be leader…just like how it used to be on the football team. Yeah…something familiar.
“Sounds like a mighty fine idea,” Clover smirked sincerely at her, causing her to lose that train of thought, “You doin’ okay there, birdie?”
But for now I should focus on shaking off this crush.
Just as she was finally starting to get comfortable, a rather large pickup truck pulled up outside the place, making a ‘skkkrrrffff’ sound in the mud. A large bluebird monster hopped out and strolled excitedly out towards the entryway. Everyone, including Darla, recognised her immediately - Martlet Finch, Clover’s mother…followed by Cerobas Ketsunake, Kanako’s mother. The presence of two rather imposing maternal figures storming in to greet Clover made Darla’s heart begin to beat, fast. Her own past experiences with her parents engaged her fight or flight responses into overdrive, causing her to stand up and storm into the restroom in a fit of fear and further agony.