TW: Emotional Manipulation, Guilt-Tripping, Violence, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Alcohol (Wine).
A.N. - Daisy has swiftly become one of my favourite characters, and this idea found me during a 1920s swing binge.
Airy giggles resounded in the recesses of the lonesome twilight as two figures dashed from a glittering golden doorway, the hinges squealing like a panicked hog before slamming shut with the tug of a waft. The realm of electric heating clashed with the frigid breeze but was ultimately parried by the latter's frozen breaths. The raw force expressed no reluctance to nibble on any exposed flesh, forming minuscule icicles and embedding them in your clothes. Despite the ravenous chill draining the vitality of the air, your intertwined hands remained a beacon of warmth.
The duck behind you released a mirthful cackle she had been suppressing until the scathing stares of the aristocracy vacated her form. "I can't believe we just did that," she exhaled, pressing her fingertips to the edge of her beak and lowering her gaze to the sidewalk. The excitement and abysmal temperature had her blood pumping and prompted a rosy veil to swell within her cheeks. Eyes crinkled, she cast a frisky smile upon you and quipped, "How could you let me do this?"
Daisy's black heels clacked against the concrete sidewalk like the hooves of a trotting steed as you staggered to a stop under the glow of an adjacent streetlight. Her hair bow had slackened during the chaos and teetered on the side of her head, bouncing forward and flattening a clump of coiffed plumage when she bumped into your back. While you stumbled a few steps ahead and spun around with a playful glare, the duck pressed a hand to her mouth and proceeded to guffaw.
You shot her an impish smile. "Let you do it? I'm just an innocent bystander. You're the criminal mastermind who threw the punch." Daisy feigned indignance and shoved your shoulder before turning her gaze upon the entrance to the cabaret.
Her smile began to dip into a pensive frown, posture drooping and elation withdrawing like a listless breath. She pinched her forehead before slowly dragging a hand down her face. An embarrassed groan rumbled through her throat as she muttered, "I need to go back in there and apologize." The duck spared a doleful glance at your intertwined hands and relinquished her grip with visible hesitancy.
You had outstretched a hand and taken a step forth when a throng of disgruntled partygoers and their escorts spilled from the door, swathed in extravagant suits and gowns. Varying degrees of scorn and fury littered their faces, and the sight of the two of you conjured numerous, enraged wails.
A green parrot rushed to the front of the crowd, clutching handfuls of her purple costume and thrusting forward the dark splotches staining the fabric. "Why don't I ruin your dress," she shrieked, earning an aghast scowl from Daisy.
The duck pressed her hands against the sides of her pink frock as if protecting it before clenching her fists and marching towards the bird.
When a hulking Rottweiler materialized behind the parrot, you lunged ahead to grasp Daisy's forearm and gave it a cautious tug. She paused and shot you a look of surprise before peering at the nobles with a suspicious frown.
Their gales of disdain, coupled with your intention of fleeing, gradually wore a hole in her rage.
The possibility of vengeful bodyguards and indignant party patrons pursuing you prompted a swift detour to the outskirts of the town, wherein you arrived at the foot of a bridge overlooking a river.
The cobblestone curved towards the sky in the centre before descending into the earth at the opposite end, plunging any travellers into the shadowy wilderness. The path was illuminated by a lone lantern dangling from an iron pole on the side of civilization.
Following a moment of panting, you hopped onto the embankment and dipped your aching feet in the frigid stream. The cold liquid swallowed much of the pain, and Daisy shortly joined you. She slipped her heels off and placed them on a neighbouring stone, careful not to dampen the fringes of her dress.
You dipped a finger in the water and traced shapes on the surface, swirling the digit while peeking at the duck. "You can swim, right?"
She stared with wide, perplexed eyes before incredulity flooded her blanched countenance. "You wouldn't dare! I just made this dress a week ago!" She recoiled slightly and retracted her hand from the edge of the cobblestone barrier, sporting a comical scowl. At the sound of your boisterous laughter reverberating through the desolate gloaming, her objection shifted to wry amusement.
Your joy gradually simmered to curiosity, and you cocked your head to look askance at her. "A week? Then how come this is the first time I've seen you wear it?"
Daisy gawked as if she had admitted a horrible secret and turned away, drawing her knees closer to her chest. The slightest curling of her beak suggested a stifled joy as she folded her hands in her lap, but her tone was deliberate and unassuming. "Well, it was a special occasion." A faint redness lingered in her complexion until she brushed her fingers against her hair in an instinctual swipe and flashed a fond smile.
"Speaking of special occasions," she began, the twinge of uncertainty in her voice luring your attention away from the body of water below.
"The Glamour Ball is coming up. Have you given any thought as to who your plus-one will be?" There was a thinly veiled eagerness in her words that hinted at an underlying impatience. Her eyes and smile broadened with each silent second, nerves brimming with fragile hope. She dug her fingers into the crevices in the cobblestone and clasped bits of sand as if about to take flight.
The return of your gaze to the river sparked a momentary faltering of enthusiasm, but your ensuing admission nearly sent her plummeting into the rapids.
"My friend's never been to that sort of thing and wanted to give it a try, so I agreed to take them."
The death of Daisy's happiness and the birth of her inflamed envy shattered the serenity of nightfall in a torrent of fury and confusion.
"I thought I was your best friend," cried the duck, scrambling to her feet and clutching handfuls of hair in a desperate plea for solace. A dash of rage bled into her panic as she clenched her jaw and formed fists. Hands shuddering at her side, she took a furious, aimless step along the stone border before whirling around and barking, "Who is it?"
A bewildered and alarmed stare was the only answer she obtained, and her resentment of the unknown recipient swelled like ravenous flames surging through a forest.
Daisy gritted her teeth and swung her head with a seething groan, spinning on her heels to peer into the stream shrouding the earth underneath her feet.
"Of course, you're my best friend," came your hesitant confirmation, spoken more from a place of apprehension than one of affection. With a wary eye, you observed a cavity of relief emerge from the duck's ire.
"I'm just doing them a favour."
Waves of desperation and sorrow cascaded over her figure as she was consumed by irrational scenarios of abandonment. "But I made us matching outfits," she wept, plopping onto the embankment and clamping her knees to her chest. Head resting obliquely on her arms, a look of misery settled on her countenance.
A crushing weight formed in the pit of your stomach. "Come on, Daisy." You summoned an uneasy smile. "You know I love everything you make. We can still wear them."
The duck withheld her gaze, staring at a collection of pebbles inching towards the gushing current as it licked the bank. "What good are matching outfits if we're not together?"
With a shake of the head, bafflement dominated your tone. "We both have invitations. Neither of us needs to go as the other's plus-one."
An inkling of bitterness resurfaced in Daisy's scowl as she whipped her head around and snapped, "That's not the point." Angling her beak at the sky, she released a dejected sigh. "It was supposed to just be the two of us."
The invisible digits of the brisk evening breeze caressed your face, channelling a vague sense of guilt that was strewn across your limbs in a string of shivers. As chilled air drew a shaky breath from your lips, a desire to alleviate the friction conquered the fear of further elevating it.
You outstretched a pinky finger. "Best friends?"
Daisy gazed at the fifth digit with a melancholic frown, heart shrivelling like a twisted root. She slowly raised a hand and extended a quivering little finger. Her reticence was palpable, and as she curled the digit around yours, immeasurable grief filled her system. A weak smile and crumpled stare, marred by envy and anguish, was all the duck mustered.
"Best friends."
⁂
The ripping of fabric was a mere whisper amongst the roaring tides of the orchestra and idle chatter of aristocrats, swallowed by piercing strings and haughty hearsay.
Daisy's sour gaze had yet to stray from the pungent sight of your jubilant companion and remained undeterred as her hand clenched the beverage enveloped in her fingers. Frigid beads of sweat secreted by the glass trickled onto her plumage, minuscule cracks forming on the surface. Incessant voices were stuffed with cotton, and the cries of the symphony deteriorated into faint drones buzzing next to her ear like an insect.
She swatted the pest with a flick of the wrist and enclosed her fist around the gushing wine. Every scrap of cloth and body surrounding her was coated in a scarlet wave, sapping the integrity of hours of seaming and imbuing an aroma of grapes. The howls and whines bombarding the duck were dismissed as if noiseless when she tossed the remnants of the drink to the floor.
With a disparaging sigh, your friend trudged to the nearest banquet table and snatched a stack of napkins from the corner. Their mind was dulled from swimming in shame, but the sound of steel clattering against stone prompted them to spin around in alarm.
A caterer had seized a hanging tablecloth to save themselves from splitting their skull on a slab of marble, while a duck marched forward with a drink in her hand and death in her eyes.
A glass of cherry liquid collided with your friend's face, splintering into shards. As the fluid cascaded down their neck and clothes like a red waterfall, the sour scent of pomegranate and cranberries blended with a metallic stench and invaded their nostrils. The inside of their nose was a pot of scalding water boiling on a stovetop, and a strangled wail burst from their lips.
"You spill their drink."
Tears gathered in your friend's throbbing eyes as they mustered a blurred glance at the assailant before a steel tray whacked the side of their head and sent them scrambling to their knees.
"You lose their food."
A heel planted itself in the centre of their chest when they endeavoured to rise, puncturing the skin with a harsh twist. Their cranium slapped the marble foundation and spurred a ragged gasp to leap from their mouth as oxygen fled their lungs in droves. Vision clouded by spirals of distress and mind spinning like a daredevil's dream, they caught a glimpse of white and blue towering above their crippled form.
"You tear up their outfit."
The opera singer reached a crescendo, bellowing bars reflecting across the massive panes of glass on each side of the mansion and sending a tremor through the glorious columns lining every wall.
"What kind of friend are you?" Daisy's scream reverberated through the ballroom in swells of thunder as the steel tray came down upon your friend's head once more, a cry spilling from their bloodied shape. Before she could expose bone, a familiar voice rang out in the quieting scene.
It sailed above the screeches and discordant melodies of the masses to pierce the fog shrouding her mind like a needle. Limbs quivering and tremorous breaths struggling to escape her lungs, she whipped her head around to spot your horrified face. The fear and silence permeating the previously bustling air began to quell the bubbling rage stewing in her gut.
Expressions of terror and revulsion littered the many nobles, indistinct whispers conjuring feelings of panicked lucidity for the duck. An agonized groan spurted from the maimed celebrant trapped underneath her shoe, and she gradually withdrew the pressure to stagger towards you. Apologies trickled from her beak in flocks but carried an accusatory edge.
"They were ruining the ball for you. No food, no drinks, tearing your outfit." Daisy clenched her teeth. "I wasn't about to just stand around and drink wine with these bozos-" she waved her hand across the expanse of the crowd "-while my best friend got torn to shreds by some quack who can't screw their head on straight!"
Her abrasive tone shifted to one of melancholy as she pressed her hands to her chest, countenance crinkling with misery. "Why did you bring them here? You know how special this night is for us."
An indignant itch was reignited by the sight of multiple security guards storming toward her. "I told you I wanted it to be just the two of us, but you chose them over me!"
The duck whirled around and slammed her foot into the abdomen of an approaching guard before sprinting to the main entrance. She burst through the gilded doorway with a strangled grunt, heat rushing to her face and vision growing muddied.
Howls and shrieks followed her fleeing form to the end of the cobblestone road, where she collapsed onto her knees next to a creek. The frozen fangs of the night sunk into every bit of exposed flesh, but no one was around to distract her by swapping stories of the snobbish elite. Her hands were left to shiver, longing for a familiar warmth to envelop them.
Dirt infiltrated the seams of her dress and undersides of her nails as her mind scrambled to occupy itself. The body of water reflected a rippling image of Daisy's face, dark blots of mascara dribbling from her eyes. The vacant space beside her stirred nothing but despondent fury, and she swung a fist at the peccant soil.
"You promised we would be best friends. Why did I ever believe you?"