It was a lazy, rainy day. The school holidays were past the initial excitement phase and into the boredom phase. Especially on lazy days like this one.
They were a family tangle. Cats and parents and child, all laying around in a cote and intermittently napping. Uncle Barry and Aunty Lup were taking turns napping and reading. Cats leaned on people and occasionally groomed them.
“Papa?”
“Hm?”
“Why’s this place called Sellsnow Farm, but you’re called Taako Taaco?”
“I’m descended from the Sellsnows, but on my mother’s side. Never learned my father’s surname, so… Didn’t have a last name for quite a while.”
Aunty Lup took a deep breath and said, “The surname we’ve got is a Clerical Error. They asked him his name, he said Taako. They said, ‘and your first name?’“
“It was too late by then. They spelled it with a C instead of a K, so Lup and I were permanently in the books as Lup and Taako Taaco.”
“So glad to be a Bluejeans,” Aunty Lup yawned. “No more horseshit.”
“So… how did they get the name Sellsnow? And why is the house a tree?”
“Tree and burrow,” Taako corrected. “That’s an extended history lesson.” He yawned and stretched. “A long, long time ago, Elves were the first intelligent people in the world.”
“If you listen to Elves,” added Aunty Lup. “Loads of others reckon they were first.” She stretched and sat up from leaning on Uncle Barry. “The brief part of it was that the Elves got arrogant and became enormous pains in the butt.”
Angus giggled.
“That naturally lead to a period of persecution,” said Dad from his apparent coma. “Lots of races chasing after Elves and hunting them down. They developed a lot of stealth techniques as a direct result.”
“That’s why you get Cloaks of Elven Kind that help you with your stealth,” said Uncle Barry. “And why you get Mountain Ygdrasi trees.”
“Arcane-altered arborea,” said Dad. “They can be shaped by Druids, Clerics, and the occasional Monk, I believe.”
“Might’a missed somebody,” said Aunty Lup. “Can’t be bothered remembering.”
“Sellsnow farms was like a fortress back in the early persecution age. Kind’a… a castle. There was enough room for a whole Elven village to hide in the warrens and wait out any besieging party,” said Papa. He moved just far enough to wrap himself around Angus. “With loads of passages so the kids and stuff can just nope out of there in safety.”
“They were dark times,” said Dad. “Lots of innocents on both sides.”
“Years passed and people didn’t need the defence,” said Aunt Lup. “The family stayed with it, but… the land wasn’t exactly fantastic for making food. The seasons were just a little too short.”
“Had to work as hard as possible to have enough to feed the families,” said Uncle Barry.
“Then Empanaada the First of Sellsnow realised that a valuable resource was literally falling out of the sky.”
“Snow,” Aunty Lup drawled. “They didn’t have imbued cold spells, so they needed ice to keep food and stuff cold and fresh. Snow, once packed, turns into ice. Ice… used to be worth twice its weight in gold.”
“Like… fifty years before you were born,” said Dad. “After that, they cracked the code for making Fantasy Refrigerators.”
“This farm fell into neglect before then,” Papa said. “Grampa Tostaada had a twin brother Taako. He was more into fame and fortune and his kids and grandkids were… uh…”
“Spoiled brats with an eye for profit and little else,” supplied Aunty Lup. “They took everything the farm did - including taking in travellers, and turned it into a profit.”
“This place did not do that well as a motel resort,” added Papa. “It sucked the soul out of the village and got way too commercial. Then all the fussy rich kids moved off because it got too big.”
“Couldn’t sustain it anyway,” Aunty Lup rearranged herself to lean on Papa. “We were long gone before then.”
“But we’re still Sellsnows. Same genes as the Tostaada who once lived here. All the old wards recognise us as family. Bonus, right?”
Angus put a mark in his book and curled up in his Papa’s arms. “It’s super nice,” he sighed. “Papa?”
“Mm-hm?”
“C’n you teach me how t’ make the best fried catfish?”
Papa chuckled. “Only if you help me catch the fish.”
[TAZ Prompts remaining: 6]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
“Babies! Gimmie them babies!”
“Grampa!” Agnes cheered.
The twins, Aloicious and Ambrose, squealed and kicked as Taako swept them up on his arms to cover three small foreheads with kisses. “Mama and Papa are pretty silly, giving me all you babies…” he cooed. “We’re gonna have sugar cookies… and all the popcorn you can eat… and watch all the shows that babies should never see…”
“Sir,” sighed Angus.
“I know. I’m less of a pain in the ass when I’m on Luume.” He settled the kids onto a fantasy beanbag, where Neapolitan started grooming Ambrose. The tiny boy giggled.
Aloicious rolled over and started swinging his hand at Neapolitan’s fur. “Ki’y ka’!”
“Smart little nuggets,” said Taako. “Makes me wanna re-check the baby gates on all the ways to the upper floors.”
“On it,” said Agatha. She was pretty fast, but then, having three kids under seven years old had improved her move speed and her dexterity. She could double dash around the entire ground floor, checking every single byway upstairs or downstairs for potential egress.
She had it all done -and had re-enforced some- before Aloicious could clamber off the fantasy bean bag. Agatha was out of breath, but victorious. “Ten outta ten, Grampa. They’d have to work real hard to get to where they’re not supposed to be.”
“I got distractions galore and they love me. We’re gonna be fine.”
The air tore, and Kravitz re-entered the lands of the living. “Grand-babies! Grand-babies! I wanna hug and kiss my grand-babies!”
“Not while you’re chilly, babe,” Taako insisted. “Don’t wanna give the nuggets the chills.”
“So help me warm up,” he flirted.
They kissed.
“GROSS,” complained Agnes.
“One day, you might not mind so much,” Angus deposited the kids’ travel bags and spare pile of nappies. “We plan on only taking four days on this. Tops. Team Sweet Flips has orders to come help after two.”
“You’ll be fine,” said Kravitz. Well. He would know. “Taako and I are going to have four days worth of spoiling these kids absolutely rotten.” As if to prove his point, he produced a handful of individually-wrapped Fantasy Werthers Originals.
Angus glared at him. So did Agatha. The kids, on the other hand, were ecstatic. There was no time to chide them. He and Agatha had to go.
*
Taako chuckled. Let Agnes think he was feeding these kids candy twenty-four sev. That’s what grandparents were for. That’s what he got for making Taako a grandfather. Three times. Before he was even two hundred. Little asshole.
For such a tall humanman, Ango certainly managed to produce some fucking tiny babies. These kids needed some good food to help them grow tall enough to overshadow their beanpole father.
Ha! That would be some revenge. Except for the part where they would be towering over their Grampa. He’d get pissy about that later.
Right now, he needed to make some good food for hungry little hands. The biggest problem was convincing these fussy little nuggets that it was good and not automatically yuck because of the ingredients.
Half was in the presentation. The other half was in the preparation. “Okay, my little nuggets. We’re going to make super-special fish and chips. Grampa and Popop are doing the dangerous stuff. You three get to help out with the super tasty stuff.”
“YAAAY!”
Aglet was already sold. She loved cooking with her grandparents. Krav could help the tiny twins with the stirring and watching and waiting for the timer. They were all up on their kiddie songs.
Taako got the kids to sprinkle salt and herbs on the salmon while Krav peeled and chopped the sweet potato. If they honey-roasted those, then the kids would definitely eat those vegetables. Taako cut the salmon into portions and set them with butter into the hot pans, then tumbled the chipped sweet potato through the honey.
They’d need regular interference to make certain of an even coat. Stirring the sauces - cheese or hollandaise or aioli - would keep the impatient occupied between turns.
Amber liked watching the mist drops on the glass lid of the frypan. He was smart enough not to touch. Aloe was all over the sauces, sometimes muscling his Popop out of the way so he could have his turn.
Aglet crouched by the oven door, watching the chips turn colours or the honey start to bubble. She had the patience of a proper chef. Time would tell if the other two had any such talent. They were two. About all they had the patience for was popcorn and pancakes.
Taako got down his cookbooks with the pictures in them. Readying them for the nuggets. Kids liked meals so much better if they could help make them. Giving them a choice in food always helped that sort of thing along.
Kids loved variety if they didn’t know it was gourmet… though Taako suspected at least one dish would be squid-weenies[1] in tomato sauce.
There would also be more than a few recipes that made a huge mess. It wasn’t a decently distracting kiddie holiday without an enormous mess.
He’d keep these kids so distracted that they wouldn’t want to go back to their parents. Riding deer, catching catfish, taunting the cats, and huge amounts of Fantasy Cartoons. That, and cuddles and food? They were set.
*
When Angus and Agatha returned, little worse for their adventures, it looked like the kitchen had exploded in recent history, but it smelled like something delicious had come out of Taako’s Aga.
The kids and their grandparents were in the largest cote that the house had on the ground floor. Two adults, three kids, five out of seven cats and a solid scattering of stuffed toys were tangled together in the blankets and pillows.
Aloicious still held half of a shaped cookie in one lax hand. Stained glass shortbreads. The worst combination of sugar, flour, mess, and the fun of melting hard candy in the oven.
Grampa sure knew how to keep them both hepped up and busy.
Agatha shared a telepathic look with him. He shrugged and toed off his shoes. they each crawled inside the cote, helped themselves to some leftover stained-glass cookies, and took a well-deserved rest.
There would be plenty of time for kissing babies when they were all awake.
[1] Insert spaghetti strands into cut-up cocktail franks. Boil. Consume with tomato sauce. Give Taako some time, he’ll figure out how to make that gourmet.
[TAZ prompts remaining: 6]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
[AN: I did kind’a promise that all these prompted fics would be PG, so…]
There were few things that Kravitz genuinely hated. Hate was a strong word, especially for a man who had once been a Bard in love with the world and in love with love. For centuries, the only one on his list had been the kinds of cults who sacrificed children.
It was only in relatively recent years that he had grown to hate Luume’irma. Taako. Angus. And now there was a tinny little tune coming from Agatha’s wrist.
Fuck.
She was scratching at her clothes and growling. This was looking like a Spare Robe kind of deal. Thanks to Barry and Lup’s Luume shenanigans, he kept a spare as a matter of routine by now. At least Agatha was close to regular.
On the minus side, there were no conveniently hormone-regulating mushrooms in the vicinity.
On the plus side, if there was a kid about to be sacrificed in this latest necromantic cult, then that kid would be the luckiest kid in the world. The necromancers, on the other hand, would die of natural causes.
It was perfectly natural to be shredded apart by a luume-crazed half-elf for threatening a child.
Rrriiiip… Agatha had decided her clothes were too itchy. Right down to her underwear.
Kravitz pulled the robe out and crammed it over her in one smooth move. The robe, crafted in the Astral Plane and made out of woven Night, could not possibly irritate anyone. After that, it was only a matter of helping her arms through the sleeves.
“Want,” she mumbled. “Where?”
Kravitz pointed her in the direction of the ominous chanting. Staying behind her just far enough to be able to pilot her. It didn’t take long for Agatha to classify one individual there as ‘feed’ and everyone else in her field of view as ‘fight’.
The low growl she made was their only warning.
All he had to do was gather up the freshly-ended Necromancers and push them through to the trainees on the other side. That, and help soothe the tiny Gnome now being nursed by a bloodstained half-Elf in a Reaper’s robe.
“No. Ag–” he sighed. Taako might not like this, but it was better than what was happening now. “Here.” He took a sweet cake out of the lunch Taako had packed for him and passed it to Agatha. “Feed the baby this.”
Gnomish children were tiny, and a spot of Prestidigitation made the cake and Agatha’s hands sparkling clean. The cake was enormous in those little hands. Even a baby with just four teeth knew what to do with a sweet cake.
All the crying stopped. Agatha was purring up a storm.
Kravitz took out his Stone of Farspeech. First… inform the new papa. Then, inform the new grampa. There would be hell to pay, of course. But guaranteed, this tiny new Gnome would have a family after all the arguments wore out.
“Baby,” cooed Agatha.
“Yeah,” said Kravitz, dialling up Angus’ frequency. “You got a nice baby.”
[TAZ prompts remaining: 6]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
[AN: (Looks at the two I’ve already written and the one I have planned) (sweats)]
Angus was born close to the day that Lucretia betrayed them. She had planned everything to the last detail. What she had not planned for was a certain Elf’s erratic and unpredictable cycle coming into play.
Fuck.
Lup was gone. She had to be gone, or she’d have found a way to come back to the Starblaster. She and Taako were so hard in sync that this really shouldn’t have happened, and yet… there he was. Temperature rising. Metabolism ramping up to ‘high’. Resistance to the voidfish’s slumber-spell as his memories rewrote themselves? Rising.
He started moving. Sniffing the air. Grunting and murmuring half-formed syllables when he wasn’t subtly whimpering in pain and loss. His hands attempted to reach out for someone or something.
She didn’t have much time.
Lucretia more or less dumped Taako in the Stage Coach without any kind of care or ceremony. Somewhere nearby, someone had to have left an unwanted child somewhere. It was an adjustment of Locate Creature and Locate Person that worked with the vaguest of descriptions. In this case, “new, unwanted baby.”
It didn’t take long to find one. A small bundle in a basket left on the steps of a trade house. Asleep and not alerting anyone to their presence. She burned all her slots on Expeditious Retreat, just to get this kid to Taako before he happened to anybody else.
After that, it was a simple matter of depositing the basket at the door and gently, carefully sliding it closer to Taako. An Elf undergoing Luume’irma and recovering from a voidfish mind-wipe.
Whatever divinity knew and controlled all the multiverse? They were the only ones that would know what this was doing to Taako’s brain.
*
Ten Years Later…
The inn where Barry Bluejeans was resting up was on fire. There should have been only one person stupid enough to run into an inn that was on fire. Especially an inn on fire that contained an angry Dwarf who was also on fire.
There were actually two.
“MY BABY!”
In a so-far uncharacteristic display of courage and thoughtlessness, Taako… rushed in. Ahead of Magnus. Ahead of everyone who had the slightest fragment of doubt.
“Taako!” Magnus called, but even he could not brave the flames. People were screaming and running for safety. Animals were stampeding the heck out of there.
They could hear Taako shrieking for his baby… and a small, piping voice calling for their Papa. Then Taako burst out of an upper floor window, holding something in both arms.
Magnus rolled a crit to catch them. He had a slightly singed Elven wizard in his arms, who had a smoke-stained small boy in his. A small boy of ten who looked nothing like Taako. The child was darker, and most definitely not Elven.
It was the ears. They were a dead giveaway.
“Taako?” said Magnus. “When did you get a kid?”
“Maybe we should get the fuck outta here first,” Taako pointed to the inn that was getting increasingly on fire. “That’s more’n we can handle.”
“Point,” Magnus acknowledged, and began to rush off after Killian for the well.
*
Gods… they got old, Lucretia thought. They were so much older, now, than they had ever been in the century they’d been running. Taako was the only one who showed it less, but there was still an alarming change.
Taako, once a clothes horse, had apparently been wearing that one outfit until it had begun wearing out, then subsequently patching it or darning it where necessary. Peeking out from behind his hip was the reason for the frugality and, come to think of it, the alarming weight loss from the plushly upholstered twins that she was used to seeing.
Luume’irma could do interesting things to a life. This little boy had to be the baby she had unceremoniously scooped from a Smithy’s doorstop. Three miles away from Mudwater Hollow.
His life would be so very, very different if Taako hadn’t had one of his episodes right there and then. She had changed his entire life with one, split-second decision.
The boy wore glasses, and his dark eyes jinked about, glancing at everything as if taking notes. His clothing was neat and clean, but not brand new. Something had happened to the good life Lucretia had hoped to give Taako. He should never have had a reason to start adventuring.
Yet… here he was. With a child. With a Relic and a magical artefact in his possession. Both of which, his sister had made. He’d found her. Judging by the look on his face, he had no clue that he had done so.
She had to make certain that they made it. No more families, eaten by the Hunger. No more black terror, consuming reality. No more running. No more hiding. No more of this endless war.
They couldn’t be allowed to know who they once were. They weren’t ready. None of them could know, not even the sharp-eyed child who had his eyes ticking over every clue he could see.
Lucky that she had had ten years to refine her deception skills. Even though she had to do this, she hated herself. “Welcome, the four of you, to the Bureau of Balance…”
[TAZ prompts remaining: 6]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
If the whole family was there, they’d need a bigger cote. But… pretending that it was big enough for:
* Seven Birds
* 1 Sweet Boi
* 1 Nosy Grl
* 1 Bone Daddy
If Taako also ignores his animosity towards Luce… the arrangement would be:
Barry and Lup together doing what comes naturally (because the Twins enter luume in sync) possibly behind some crude privacy barrier.
Ango nurturing Agatha as was in the story.
Magnus, Krav, Luce, Merle, and Taako as reserve guards, stacked by the doorway according to heaviness of hitting. Krav would be kept near the kids because he has the power to effectively teleport them out of there.
Not that such an emergency measure would be needed though.
The sparring match stopped when Angus landed badly. Everyone in the Icosagon froze. Clerics in the room looked to each other.
“Not it,” said Merle.
Taako rolled his eyes as he put his Umbrastaff down. “You okay there, pumpkin?” Not that he overtly cared or anything, but the kid was kind’a the whole moon’s mascot at this point and he would lose major social points if he didn’t at least pretend.
Sure. He could tell himself that one.
“It just stings, sir.” Angus McDonald propped himself up at first, then moved into a seated position so he could inspect his injuries. As he brushed the dust off, blood started to flow.
“Oh golly… Who’s got Cure Wounds?”
Now the Clerics were looking at each other with worried expressions.
“Aw fuuuuck…”
“No, it’s okay,” Magnus Burnsides rushed in. He picked Angus up and carried him over to the benches. “Y’all got any first aid kits?”
Now the assembled Clerics could provide. Taako tutted and sighed. Trust a Cleric to run out of spell slots early on in the day. He hovered and watched, pretending that he was feigning an interest for the benefit of anyone watching.
“That’s some primo gravel rash, kiddo,” Magnus said, using a cloth to dab at the wounds, cleaning them.
Angus hissed.
“Yeah, this antiseptic almost always stings. You can get some that don’t? But not in your standard medicine kit.” He had an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” Angus managed through gritted teeth. “I’ve had this sort of thing done before, sir.”
Taako subdued a rising ire against anyone who’d made this boy suffer on purpose. This was probably some kind of fucked-up normal for little Ango. Poor kid. Taako had to find a way to make the kid wake up to that fact. Just… not today.
“This is swabbing. It helps keep the blood from dripping just about anywhere,” said Magnus. “These kits come with a pair of scissors so you can cut it to size. Good rule of thumb is to measure the injury with your hands and cut a finger’s width wider. Lay it on gently, don’t press it in…”
“Uhuh,” said Angus. “This seems almost deceptively easy now that you’re explaining it.”
“What? Clever clogs like you didn’t gain a proficiency in medicine?” said Taako, teasing him. Which gave him an excuse to hang around and be certain that the kid was going to be okay.
“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t know everything about everything, sir.”
“These are the bandages,” continued Magnus. “You want them firm enough to stay on, but not tight enough to cut off your circulation. Leave an end loose at the start, wind one way, wind the other, I like to do that twice before tying off. Nice and snug?”
“Yessir.”
“Always check the extremities to make sure they’re not turning red. That’s a sign that it’s too tight. Also watch out for swelling, pins and needles, and a loss of sensation. That means you gotta re-wind it. Got all that?”
“Yes, sir! I need a minute or two to make some notes on all this.”
Taako coughed his way around the word, “Nerd.”
Magnus glared at him. “Now, you have to un-wrap it tomorrow, clean any yuck outta there, and rebandage it if you can’t find any useful Clerics.”
“Useful Cleric is an oxymoron,” muttered Taako.
“And rest that leg for a while, okay?”
“Yeesh. Just admit you wanna adopt him, why don’cha,” sniped Taako. “Kid’s not that dumb or fragile.” That was the closest thing Ango was going to get to a compliment today. Or at least, until he learned Taako’s Magic Lesson number four - Avoid Getting Hit.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]
[Go visit internutter (dot) org for deets on my life or how to help support my lifestyle]
[GIF describe: glittering hearts in a staggering pattern gradually falling from the top of the frame through the bottom]
Thank you for the love, friendo. Tell your best peeps that I exist and direct them to something I’ve done that they might like. Word of mouth is how indie folks get to have actual income.
Stay tuned to internutter (dot) org for updates on what passes for my life - not mandatory, it’s just that I own the URL and I know nothing’s going to be fucked up THERE unless something happens to the servers. In fact, all my followers who love my stories should probably bookmark that site. Just in case.
Thanks for making one of my worst mornings worth waking up in.
It’s slightly more stressful now that the facility for posting a straight link to my pro stuff is off the board. Likewise, letting people know that I have a Patreon and Ko-fi. [Check internutter (dot) org for details!]
I might gradually slide over to Pillowfort ‘cause at least there, I can link offsite without getting expunged from the tags/communities/whatever.
I’m not giving up on Tumblr until they give up on me. It’s just that they’re getting less and less important as a means of distributing my works and knowledge thereof.
The restaurant was the best thing to happen to him during possibly the worst month of his life. Most of that was because Agatha was in the restaurant with him. Radiant with her own, unique glow that had been subtly blooming over the most recent days.
He was down on hit points, he’d had to run some constitution saving throws, and was generally feeling like shit. But it was all fine now because he’d seen Agatha. She smiled in that slow and certain way that made his heart swell.
Sure, she’d mentally attached a small label to his person that said This person is mine, at least to her eyes, but Angus didn’t mind so much.
They were young - well, young for half-elves - and in love.
He more or less fell into the booth that he had booked a month ago.
“You look like shit,” she teased.
“Drug gang in the lower west side. Nasty lot. Had the wrong type of necromancer.” He smiled for her, now, because he didn’t feel any pain now that he was near her. “I’m better now,” he said.
She leaned into him and sniffed deeply. Her soft purr was music to his ears. “Hmmmm,” she sighed. “Poor mate.”
Agatha smelled really nice. Angus kissed her hair and let himself relax for a change. She was gently stroking her fingers near his minor wounds. Careful of them. Her purr was rather steady, even when her hands drifted around his wrist.
“Skinny mate…”
Uh oh…
Angus felt her pulse. Elevated. Her pupils were dilated and her face was flushed. “Food?” she said. “Need feed mate.”
Three seconds after this very damning statement, her own personal luume-alarm went off. A tinny rendition of Love World of Love.
“Miller labs has got to work on a better detection spell,” Angus muttered. He ordered a combination of dense protein and different types of carbs, discreetly indicating that Agatha was under the influence of luume’irma.
She was in nurture mode, thanks to his generally poor condition, so there wouldn’t be an unseemly display in a classy restaurant where she attempted to jump his bones. Therefore, he would be feeding her as she fed him.
All in all, not the worst possible first luume ever. That record would have to go to Taako, who went on a touch-starved rampage through the college campus he was living in at the time. It had taken five security guards and some primo tranquillisers to get him to a manageable state.
By comparison, Agatha was a famished kitten. As long as the PDA’s stayed PG, he’d be fine. There was a relatively nice Elven Cote-l nearby. He could snuggle with her and any extra treats and, if she got rowdy, he knew where the ‘off switch’ was.
If there was a plus side to all of this, he knew that she viewed him as a mate. Or at least, subconsciously did so. Personally, he’d much prefer it when she had more choice in the matter.
Her eyes twinkled as he fed her. He sort-of flirted with her as she fed him. Not the most romantic of evenings, like he’d planned it to be, but this was a close second.
Agatha would later state in their wedding vows that his gentlemanly behaviour on this night was one of her strongest reasons for wanting to keep him.
[TAZ prompts remaining: 8]
[Thanks for the prompts! Visit internutter (dot) org for deets on how to help fund my life :D]
Baking Day was an even mix of fun, mess, and a modicum of frustration. Angus thought he was getting the hang of it and Taako was stress-testing his last nerves in watching an amateur take twenty minutes to do what a pro could do in seconds.
He had to keep casting back to when he was an amateur bumbling along under the guidance of Aunty Ques. How she had put up with these levels of horseshit. In doing so, he missed Angus just tossing the measured flour into the whipped egg whites.
“Sift it fir–” too late. “Augh!” His hands went up, bracelets jangling, to grip at his hat.
Ango went down, ducking and covering for a split second before realising that no incoming blows were going to happen.
In that time, Taako had lowered his hands and had to roll a save to stop feeling like the scum of the universe. He said, “Who hit you?”
“Nobody recently, sir. Everyone up here on the moon treats me really well.”
Taako fought for calm. “That wasn’t the question I asked, pumpkin. Someone had to hit you a lot for that kind’a reflex. Don’t matter if they’re not on the moon…”
Angus couldn’t look him in the eye. “My parents never hit me, sir.”
“So it was tutors they paid for? Nice,” he dripped sarcasm with that last word. “Or was it some shitty boarding school for fancy boys?”
“…they were s’posed to,” Angus murmured. “Discipline’s very important…”
“Horseshit.”
“Sir?”
“Horse. Shit. There’s hundreds of ways to get kids to act nice and beating on ‘em is one o’ the worst. I never knew the feel of someone else’s hand until I was out on the road and far from home ‘n’ family.” He had his centre, now, and used his new-found calm to gently pat Angus’ hair. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“There was that time you threw me off a train, sir…”
“Better than letting you stay on it,” said Taako. “Anyway, I cast Shield. You were fine.” He’d never admit it, but he also believed he’d never see this kid again. Now that he was a coworker… Damnit. He added, “Sorry.”
Angus looked stunned. “Did you… just apologise to me?”
“Don’t brag about it,” said Taako. “You were due. Make a big thing out of this and you might not hear any more. Got it?”
“No, I understand, sir. I just… nobody’s ever done that before.”
Shit. Now he felt worse. “That’ll change,” said Taako, inwardly vowing to make it change. “Get used to it.”
[TAZ prompts remaining 8]