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Ms. Rhoda Dendron has always been a clever apteryx, fascinated by the world around her and needing to know how it worked and, most importantly, how to preserve its many beautiful wonders.
But no matter how many times she tried to prove herself worthy to her peers and to the world, she always fell short. Being seen as a mockery and a waste of valuable resources, just another failure among many of her experiments.
That all changed when she met Dr. Reginald Bushroot.
It had been a long six months at the lab for Rhoda. She volunteered to try to rehabilitate the villain and study him for her research. I was hoping she had made the right decision; after all, her career could crumble if her tests are not proven successful.
So far, it's going better than expected; her life's work has prospered like never before. The plant mutant had started to speak again, though only to her. He also started to become more cooperative with her tests, and he even began to help her in some ways.
They grew closer as time passed, and it seemed as if his humanity was shining through each day. However, despite this progress, Rhoda felt dissatisfied.
There was something about him that intrigued her to no end. The only thing she knew of him was what the city's hero, Darkwing Duck, told her with his knowledge from those old cartoons that used to play every Saturday morning.
She fiddled with her long, dark brown feathers. Taking a drag of her cigarette, she let out a long sigh of smoke that disappeared in the cold, crisp air. "What am I doing?" she thought out loud to herself.
"I was supposed to be creating solutions to help the Earth's ecosystem, but here I am playing pretend while trying to understand some cartoon villain from the 90s!"
The young Kiwi bird sighed as she let her face fall into her palms.
Even so, she pondered as she put out the light from her cigarette. (He's more than just some cartoon now; he's real, with real thoughts and emotions.)
Deciding she had enough self-loathing for one night, she left the open window and walked down the hall towards the holding cells, recalling the memory of when she first met the shrub scientist as she did so.
6 months earlier
Rhoda was studying how to create a serum that could help quicken plant growth when she first saw him—the most spectacular specimen she had ever laid eyes on.
He threw his shadow-like opponent into the large greenhouse, where her tests were taking place. She was terrified, to say the least, and trying to defend herself as best she could. Mixed up in a storm of fists and vines and obnoxiously bad puns while simultaneously trying to save her life's work.
The bottles that held the chemical substances she had been using shattered as the purple-winged mallard crashed into the display case.
Purple, green, and orange liquid oozed from the broken glasses and onto the floor, causing a burning sensation towards one of the leafy monster's vines.
The beast let out a fierce cry of pain before turning on her. She sucked in a scream just as a massive vine reached for her.
The large vine grabbed her by the leg, pulling her up to the plant-beast's ugly face. Rhoda struggled within the monster's grasp, trying to wiggle herself free, only to be slowly crushed by the weight.
"No, Please.." Rhoda chocked out as the vines gripped tighter. The creature stared at her as she begged, and suddenly a timid-appearing face emerged from the mass of vines and moss. As if truly seeing her for the first time, the grip it held on her started to loosen.
"You are.. a beautiful woman." He murmured.
But before Rhoda could reply, the dark duck of the night swung from the rafters onto the beast's head, using his gas gun to spray the smoke into its eyes. The monster let out a yelp of pain, his grip on Rhoda letting go as she plummeted to the floor.
Rhoda screamed, embracing for impact. Landing on a clump of bushes and soft leaves that sprung from her broken potted plants that placed her softly out of the building and onto the ground.
Rhoda was stunned that the creature—or man—had saved her life. Feeling her eyes grow wide, she shielded her face as the building suddenly combusted from the spillage of the chemicals.
"NOOO!" Rhoda yelled. Watching as all her work had been destroyed.
The creature slinked out of the now-wrecked building. The masked mallard flew up into the air and landed with a thud. Covered in smoke, he gagged as a larger man rushed to his side, checking if he was alright.
"Yeah, I'm all good, LP." "As for you, Bushroot, you're going to be locked up for a long time!" The mallard exclaimed proudly.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" The larger man asked with worry in his eyes. "Yes, I'm fine. No thanks to you two." Rhoda scoffed, brushing the dirt from her labcoat.
The purple-winged mallard picked up the creature, placing his leaf-like hands in cuffs. "Yep, yep, yep—ah, you won't be escaping prison again anytime soon." He laughed in the weaker man's face, and Bushroot hissed and whined as he was pulled away.
Rhoda felt a twinge of pity in her heart. Even if they had ruined her work, the man had saved her life; he couldn't be all bad.
"Wait!" Rhoda spoke up. "You can't take him to prison!"
"And why not?" The mallard chimed back.
"Look at him! He's obviously hurt and scared because of you!" Rhoda huffed. "Please, I'm a botanist; perhaps I could help him."
The duck laughed, "Miss, there simply is no helping this guy! No doctor or psychiatrist has been able to fix or crack this egg yet. He simply cannot be helped!"
Rhoda twisted her face in annoyance. Who did this arrogant glorified cosplayer think he was? "Please, you must let me try! After all, you ruined my work. It is the least you can do to let me study him."
The mallard thought for a second: "Well, if you think you can help him, I guess it is only fair I let you try. But this is no ordinary criminal! He's a villain from another world! And must be heavily guarded and watched at all times." "Lucky for you, I happen to know a few scientists with a lab with high-tech security systems where you could do, er, whatever it is that you do."
The mallard gave her a card that read "Darkwing Duck", with a phone number under the obnoxiously large and flashy logo. "Call that number whenever you are ready or need help, and Darkwing Duck will be there on the double!" He exclaimed.
"Thank you, Darkwing. And trust me-" Rhonda began, looking into the plant man's eyes as he was placed in the back of their vehicle. "I'm sure this will be a wonderful opportunity for the both of us."