This is going to be tricky for you and the rest of my readers. The ask is being answered a few [five days at current count] days before I get to the fic prompt that is part two. So… thanks in advance for your patience in this matter.

As is always with luume headcannon - @interstellarvagabond should verify or deny my accuracy.

Any Elf who already has sensory issues would fucking HATE luume, IMHO. I’m pretty sure the painful experiences would be dulled, since luume exists to perpetuate the species, but unpleasant ones are another story. I imagine that sort of thing would be the same level of annoying as a mosquito in the dark. Awareness plus fixation plus an inability to do anything much about it.

Symptoms of luume usually read as ‘inebriated’ to the uninitiated, and the Elven brain in question is sorting the world into one of three ways to deal with it [fight, fuck, or feed]. This leads me into thinking that a luume-addled Elf would attempt to fix whatever was annoying at the time [eg: irritating clothes? Get naked. Too cold? Burrow in somewhere warm]. This might also lead to cycling activities when the need to find a mate conflicts with the unpleasant overstimulation.

An Elf triggered by loud noises wouldn’t call/yowl to try and find a mate, for instance. One triggered by cold would never go out in the snow.

It depends how deep into Cave-Elf your character goes. One might, for instance, tear the fuck out of any scratchy blankets they find while another would focus on gathering up all the soft cotton materials so they could get comfy.

I hope this has been helpful, and may the air never harm you again.

Practice battles in the Icosagon had actually faded into being boring. They were safe. There was no risk. There was no desperation. There was nothing at stake. There were even healers hanging around on the bleachers in case the mock battles knocked anyone down. The only thing at risk was dignity.

Tres Horny Bois were sparring against Team Smarty-pants, Carey, Killian, and Angus McDonald. Both sides knew each others’ weaknesses. Both knew that if they were knocked down to zero hit-points, the clerics gathered on the bleachers would butt in and save valuable lives.

It was routine to the point where Taako was almost doing this in his sleep. He much preferred to get back to sleep, which was why he wanted this dumb exercise over with as soon as possible.

Entangle the Meat Shield, confound the Rogue, dazzle the Mage, cha-cha-cha… Magic Missile, Magic Missile, cha-cha-cha…

Angus cast shield. Lad was learning. Taako was nearly impressed.

Well. If he wanted to shake things up, Taako was game.

He dipped into his ingredients pouch and brought out a single, small, hot pepper. The only warning they would get. Then he cast Dragon Breath, aiming at Carey and Killian.

Angus McDonald, allegedly the worlds’ smartest person, leaped between the competent women and Taako and attempted to cast Shield.

He failed.

Taako watched his life fall to pieces all over again in slow motion.

Angus completed the parabolic arc to the floor of the arena as if he were falling through water. Flames licking at him like they had licked at his stage wagon in Glamour Springs.

Some of the bodies were so small. Not as small as the one that was practically at his feet. Crumpled in pain like those who hadn’t eaten as much of the thirty-clove garlic chicken. Crying out like so many of those he had left behind in his panic.

Just like back then, when he had grabbed Sazed and harnessed the horse to their camper wagon, Taako ran. The whole world was slow as he flung the Umbrastaff away from him and started out of the arena. It felt like trying to run through an ocean of molasses. Like trying to breathe cotton.

He’d done it again. He’d done it again! He’d done it again!

There was nowhere to run to, not on the moon.

He deserved this.

He deserved worse.

There was one way to run. Right off the gods-damn moon. He didn’t hear anything but the rushing of blood in his ears, and the painful drag of air through his throat. He could only see his goal - the edge of the moon base. The unprotected plateau that had been the doom of an uncounted number of dogs[1].

He didn’t stop. Let his feet cycle in thin air for a couple of steps. Then shut his eyes so that he wouldn’t be able to regret his decision.

He’d killed a kid who had no-one and nothing to the point where he hero-worshipped a murdering scuzzbucket like Taako. This death was earned and long since overdue.

Payment for Glamour Springs.

Payment for Angus.

Payment for everything else horrible that he’d done in his entire life.

{fomp!} the wind stopped thundering in his ears and something yanked at his left arm.

Taako’s eyes opened. That fucking umbrella did actually follow him. He glared at it through a veil of tears. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded. “I killed a kid. I deserve to die…”

The Umbrastaff, as always, was silent.

“I hate you, you accessory from Hell.” So now he was going to live. Fuck. Worse, they could track him because of the fucking silver bracer that his Umbrastaff had a good grip on.

Options. He was going to live because the Umbrastaff wouldn’t let him die. He could cut off his left hand, lose the bracer, and just fucking run. Except he was allergic to pain, so that should be a last resort only.

There were places he could hide where the signal from the Bracer was interrupted There had to be thousands of caverns in The Teeth. He could farm mushrooms and cave slugs and be a cave hobo.

Better than a murder hobo.

A figure appeared before him. Fancy lad. shiny shoes. The feathers in his fancy lad cap were less by one. He had his arms folded and an expression of deep confusion. “Pardon my language, sir, but what the fuck?”

“Great. Now I’m hallucinating,” said Taako.

“No, sir. I’m guaranteed one hundred percent alive. Mr Highchurch was actually handy with a healing spell, sir.”

“Now I know I’m hallucinating…” he rolled his eyes. “The day Merle actually heals anyone is the day the world ends.”

“No, sir. Mr Burnsides reminded him that he can heal and I was fine in the jiffiest of jiffies. But you’d already run off by then.”

Taako reached out with the hand that wasn’t caught up in the grip of a malevolent accessory. Poked Angus.

Kid felt alive enough.

“Are you good, now, sir?”

Taako shrugged, “Well, I’m not as evil as I previously assumed, I guess… Sure you’re not dead?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

They were both featherfalling to the middle of nowhere. Since the moon was closer, it was worth burning a spell slot on. “All right. Improv magic lesson. Come on over to me. I’ll show you what Fly looks like.”

The Umbrastaff was on his side as they soared up to settle on the relative firmness of the Bureau quad. Where Magnus and Merle were waiting with the same question Angus had.

“What the fuck?”

Taako lied like a rug. “Have no fear, gentle co-workers, Taako’s saved the day, the boy, and imparted a valuable lesson.” He denied ever jumping off the moon in the first place, blew so much smoke up everyone’s assed that they gave up on trying to ask Taako anything.

Eventually, they all filtered away, leaving just him and the kid in the middle of the quad.

“Sir,” said Angus. “I heard you say, not again.” He had his notebook and pencil out, raking notes. “What sort of thing could have you panicked like that?”

“Prefer not to answer,” said Taako. “We’re alive today. Be glad of that.” He shut down, turned off, and Blinked the fuck out of there.

Nobody needed to know this shit. If that kid asked any more questions, Taako might actually answer him, one day.

[1] For those of you who are worried - that number is zero. Actually, Davenport and Lucretia are allergic, so they don’t let dogs on the moon.

[TAZ prompts remaining: 4]

Soft warmth beside him. Cozy and safe and smelling of cheap, but never over-abundant perfume. Angus sleepily wrapped himself around his lovely wife and sniffed deeply as he squeezed.

Oh, what a beautiful morning.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast her exposed skin in gold. Her face still lax in sleep. Perfectly calm and drooling a little on the pillow.

Ah, what a perfect view.

She had bed-head and her pyjamas were askew and there was no name for the sleeping position she wound up in other than Pure Agatha. Nobody else in the world could gain comfort from that awkward tangle mixed with sprawl.

Angus propped himself up on one elbow, forced to let her go in the process, but loving the angle he gained from the movement. The best investigative reporter in the world. The smartest and most competent woman he knew.

An amazing companion, a terrific helpmeet, smart and lovely and devoted to their teamwork. He could devote his life to loving every inch of her.

Agatha’s eyelids fluttered open. “Mmh… h’lo.”

The grin would not escape his face. “Hi,” he said, leaning over for their morning kiss. Monster-breath didn’t matter. That kiss was worth waiting for. When they broke it, he said, “Any requests for breakfast? I happen to know some five-star chefs who taught me everything I know about burning scrambled eggs.”

Her laugh was like a symphony. “Silly man.” She reached up to caress his cheek. “It’s a coffee and porridge morning for me.”

“Apples and cinnamon? Raisins? Cardamom?”

She stretched the kinks out before burying her nose in his chest hair for a good nuzzle. Agatha finished with a kiss and said, “Let’s wreck some porridge together. It’s been a while since we got your Papa all incensed.”

It was difficult to get up when she was just lounging there like that, but he had to pee anyway. “I think he may have finally forgiven me for burning the pasta that one time. Wonder if he’s forgiven you for being so beautiful that I couldn’t tear myself away…”

“Still your fault for dancing me off my feet,” she teased.

It was how their mutual cooking sessions had gone for months. Starting to prepare a meal and, through a succession of kisses and cuddles, making out and forgetting that the burners were still burning until the Fantasy Smoke Alarms went off.

Taako, one of the aforementioned five-star chefs, was highly offended by it all.

Basic nods to morning hygiene accomplished, they failed their stealth checks on the way to the kitchen by giggling and shushing each other as they tip-toed towards Taako’s sacred space.

Only to find him there already, in a chair by the old hearth where the Aga now resided. Knitting. Glaring at them as they entered. “You realise I’m only here to stop you setting the farmhouse on fire,” he said. “Whatever you start cooking, I’ll make certain you don’t fucking burn it.”

“I think he’s onto us,” Agatha stage-whispered.

“I think you’re right,” Angus stage-whispered back. He tried to wipe the grin off his face, but rolled a one. “Thanks, Papa.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Warn me before you start the slow-dancing. I’m too young for this shit.”

[TAZ Prompts remaining: 5]

[AN: Going with Young Ango because bigger angst potential]

Angus hid behind the doorway, breath stilled in his throat, tears prickling at his eyes. Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz were yelling at each other. It was happening. It was finally happening.

They were fighting.

They were fighting because Angus was in the house. Just like any of the other couples who had taken him in for the early cycle of home visits and inspections and the dance of eternal paperwork.

“It’s not babysitting, Krav. He’s our damn kid! Take some parental responsibility.”

“I am being responsible! I’m working for our keep!”

“I got the money sewed up, babe.”

“It’s not as if I can take time off whenever I feel like it! My Queen needs me!”

“Our baby needs you!”

“Stop calling him that! He’s not our baby!”

Angus felt every muscle in his body turn into a knot. Felt his panicked breath stop in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. He was going to die alone and nobody cared about him and Nurse Stronginthearm was going to scrub the meat off his bones for the orphanage stew…

“Oh fuck,” said Mr Taako. There was a clatter of his high heels against the polished floors, and then the smell of floral cologne and his warm presence nearby. “Sweetie…? Sweetie, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Angus, panicked, couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe in. Couldn’t feel anything but utter terror. They were going to break up. They were going to split apart because he was here to ruin their love and he was so sorry and he didn’t want to be stew…

“Oh shit,” said Mr Kravitz. He joined Mr Taako in holding Angus. “I didn’t mean to say– What I meant is that you’re a little boy.” Mr Kravitz’s cool hand rubbed over Angus’ back. “You’re not a baby any more.”

The panic still had him in its clutches. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was going dark and he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t move and the whole world hurt.

Mr Kravitz started to sing a lullabye as both Mr Taako and himself held Angus close. All the terror ebbed away under a gentle and soothing Calm Emotion. Mr Taako’s soft purr provided a non-magical counterpart. With calm, came sweet air. With calm, the knotted muscles eased. Tears fell. Sobs loosed, but that was just because they were held back for so long.

“I’m sorry,” said Mr Kravitz.

“…please don’t go bad,” Angus managed. “…please don’t break up… please don’t turn sour ‘cause of me…”

“Aw no, aawww…” cooed Mr Taako, rocking with Angus in his arms. “It’s just a little tiff, pumpkin… People have fights like this all the time. We got angry at each other, but it’s all over, now.”

Mr Kravitz said, “Taako was right. I do need to share more of my time with you. I need to figure out how to break up my work so that I can have more of a home life.” He moved closer. Wrapping Angus and Mr Taako up in his arms. “Sorry I panicked you.”

“Krav was right, too,” said Mr Taako. “He does important work and it can never wait. Also… you are a little kid. But… I can’t help thinking of you as my baby. I want you to be part of my life.”

Mr Kravitz whispered, “I’d love us all to be a family.”

Angus peeked. Mr Taako had tears slipping from his eyes. Mr Kravitz had moisture spilling from his own. They were both more concerned with Angus than they were about fighting.

A black feather fell from Mr Kravitz’s hair. Angus caught it. Mr Kravitz had never used feathers in his hair.

“I have to go,” said Mr Kravitz. He didn’t sound glad. “I want to come back as soon as I can.”

“I know, babe,” Mr Taako sighed. “Our boy’s gonna need extra hugs.”

“I’ll come back and read him a chapter of Caleb Cleveland. Soon as I can.”

“Don’t let Bird Mom keep you too long with the paperwork.”

Angus, still in Mr Taako’s arms, watched them kiss. They weren’t turning sour. They were okay.

Mr Taako carried Angus to the couch for an extended cuddle session. “Big upset today. Some people broke up when they realised childrearing isn’t alway sunshine and lollipops, right?”

Angus, curled up and halfway wrapped around Mr Taako, nodded.

Mr Taako’s bangles rang as he stroked Angus’ hair. “This is a fight every family has, sweetie. Who does more for the kid. Who does more for the household. Who’s more tired at the end of the day.” Mr Taako took a deep breath. “That sort’a thing broke up my parents. I admit, there was more than a bit of superstition stirred in… Not important. Too long ago. Today… Krav and I had that argument. It happened. We got loud. It don’t mean it’s the end of us. You got that, little man?”

Angus could believe it in the way they kissed. In the way they meant it when they apologised. In the way their touch lingered on each other.

Angus nodded. “I don’t want it to turn bad ‘cause of me.”

“Aw, honey…” Mr Taako started telling stories. Stories about all of his bad choices. About the people he had thought he had love with in the past. The liars, the deceivers, the poisoner who he had once trusted… The manipulators, the ransomers, the controllers… Mr Taako had seen every form of sour love that there was to exist. “So you see… I know what sour looks like.”

Angus sniffled and said, “Yessir…”

“So can you trust me when I tell you that Krav and I are not going sour any time soon?”

A shuddering, steadying breath. “Yessir.”

“Good,” Mr Taako kept stroking Angus’ hair. “Now the bad news. Dinner is a vegetable stir fry because I already cooked that. I can let’cha have a sweet tea to wash it down, though. Good?”

Angus nodded.

“Good.”

Mr Taako held him until the shuddering sadness was over, then let Angus up to have a late dinner and a soothing, sweet tea. By the time he was done, Mr Kravitz was back and hurrying to eat Mr Taako’s good food so he could have time to hold Angus and Mr Taako and read a story.

Angus didn’t make it all the way through the chapter. Falling asleep in someone’s arms was a nice feeling all the same.

[TAZ prompts remaining: 5]

[AN: Did someone say Terrible Elf Larvae?]

So far, today had been absolute shit for Angus McDonald. Everything that could go wrong, had. Including rain with the distinct absence of an umbrella, a miscommunication in schedules, a hormone rush from being a teenager, ripping his pants in front of someone awesome, and tripping over his tongue in the vicinity of a cute girl.

Next, the famous Twins were taking turns in suggesting how he could improve his life with just a few cautionary measures and Angus had flashbacks to his micro-managing, nit-picking gene donors allegedly calling themselves his parents.

There had been a huge row. A knock-down, drag-out screaming match where all three sides were yelling, “You don’t know what it’s like,” at each other. With increasing volume and differing emphasis between iterations.

Angus, clutching his wand so he didn’t make or throw fists, yelled, “I WISH YOU DID!” And accidentally cast Wish on himself.

There was a bright flash of light. A thunderclap of sound that knocked Angus flat on his back and caused the household cats to scatter into assorted nooks and crannies. When he stood back up, neither Taako nor Lup were anywhere in sight.

They could have easily cast Blink or otherwise run off to hide and play a goof on him, as was their wont. Angus wasn’t in a mood to take any of that horseshit. “Very funny, sir, ma’am,” he growled. “I am not in the mood, okay?”

Silence there, and nothing more. Well. A soft, shuffling noise from the other side of the kitchen countertop. A coo. A murmur.

Angus toured around the counter and found the Twins. Two years old at the most. Naked, because their grown self’s clothing did not fit tiny Elf babies. Huddled up and holding each other and close to tears.

One look at Angus’ pissed-off face was enough to set them wailing.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. His heart fell as he realised exactly what had happened. “Oh… shit…”

Now he had tiny Elf larvae to look after until such time as the spell wore out or reversed somehow.

How. The fuck. Was he going to explain this to Kravitz or Barry?

“Oooh shiiiiiit…”

What did tiny baby Elves like to eat? Were they still suckling at this age? Angus suddenly realised that he didn’t know.

“Oh, shi-hi-hi-hiiit…” Angus started to cry. This was the absolute last thing he needed on the shittiest day of his life and the final straw tipped him into tears. He fell to his knees and curled up in a ball and just… wailed… about his misfortunes.

He was only dimly aware of the twins’ babbling to each other. Not babbling. The proto-version of their own language. At least they weren’t crying any more.

Angus fought to recover himself, but today had been literally the worst. He looked the baby version of Lup in her mismatched eyes and whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

The baby version of Taako was cringing a little and sort-of hiding behind baby Lup, and sucking his thumb.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Aaaw,” cooed baby Lup. “Aaaaawww…” and patted his arm.

Bad day or not, these baby versions of his guardians and mentors needed him. He couldn’t cope with this alone, but he had to cope enough until someone could swing by and help out.

*

Fabricate had created some perfunctory children’s clothing out of Barry’s least favourite denim accessories, and some truly comfortable cotton sheets for their underthings. Taako’s cooking lessons had taught him how to make more than elementary food.

Creative use of furniture made a coffee table and some Fantasy Bean Bags made setting an eating area for them a work of inspired desperation.

A few Stone calls had people on their way to Casa de Taako to help out with more than just the basics.

Nothing on Faerun, alas, could make baby Taako eat his peas. Not butter. Not cheese. Not goopy sauce, which Taako had once claimed that babies loved. Not mooshing them up with the mashed potatoes. Not ketchup.

Nothing.

Not even pretending that the spoon was a dove wanting to come home to feed her babies. All the realistic cooing in the world couldn’t make baby Taako open his little baby Elf mouth.

Baby Lup thought this was hilarious. At least Angus could successfully sleight-of-hand some into her when she was openly guffawing at her brother.

Merle rushed in. “I got here as soon as I–” the scene greeted him. Twin baby Elves with more of their dinner on them than in them, Angus, also wearing a decent portion of their meal, making dove noises and sighing in exasperation as the baby flipwizard once again successfully evaded Angus’ feeding attack. There was only one way to react to that, and that was as if someone had cast Tasha’s Hideous Laughter on him.

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Oh, help me, Pan… “ He was struck prone from the hilarity and had to punch the ground in fits of laughter.

Baby Taako thought that was hilarious, and Angus got in an attack of opportunity, getting some peas into his usually recalcitrant maw. Baby Taako looked like he’d been betrayed and then spat them with some velocity at Angus.

Baby Lup applauded, spraying pumpkin everywhere.

Angus surrendered. “I suppose you don’t have any suggestions on making baby Elves eat their vegetables, sir?”

Merle was still howling with hilarity, but he managed to sit up. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. “Fuck if I know how to make kids eat.” He finally rolled a will save to conquer his own giggles. “What’ve you tried?”

Angus ran through the list. Every sauce and flavour he could think of.

“So… not honey.”

Ah, fuck, he’d forgotten honey. Angus sighed and mage-handed the honey over, which he drizzled into the mess that was once a serving of peas.

Success! Finally.

It was exhausting enough just getting them to eat when they were hungry. “You at least have parenting experience points, sir. What do they need?”

“Nyuh,” baby Taako said, flinging a handful of generic mess at Merle.

“I dunno about lots of shit,” said Merle, “but these little grubs need a bath.”

Baby Taako shrieked in terror and started running as fast as his little legs could carry him. Good news, babies didn’t have much in the way of move points. Bad news, the little blighters were fucking agile as shit. Baby Lup was running around just for the sake of running around, laughing because she thought this was an immensely fun game of Chase.

Merle couldn’t do much but get in the twins’ way, which was not as effective as Angus would have liked. It took some superior dexterity and more than a few double dashes to capture the little shits.

If feeding tiny toddler Elves was messy business, bathing them was even worse. The twins did enjoy the bubbles, but they also enjoyed splashing each other, Angus, and every last inch of the bathroom, including the ceiling.

Angus was soaked, but Prestidigitation could at least make sure the towels were toasty and dry. He was more than a little out of practice with braiding their golden hair, and Merle at least was able to help with wrestling them into their bedclothes.

Once tucked into a cuddle cote, clean and dry and cozy, they looked deceptively innocent.

“I’m too old for this,” complained Merle.

“I’m feeling too old for this,” sighed Angus. He was just about ready to collapse. “Who else is coming?”

“Well,” said Merle, “You’re going to have to explain this to their husbands.”

Ffffuuuuuuck…

*

“Near as I can figure, sirs, it was a misfire of Wish. I don’t know how to break it.” He had chosen to tell the story over the two tiny, slumbering forms. They even held hands in their sleep. At least with the twins sleeping right in front of them, there was no chance of anyone yelling at him.

Angus had had more than enough yelling for the day. He’d had more than enough yelling for a lifetime.

Kravitz sighed and said, “I’m not mad. I’m… disappointed.”

Ouch. That was even worse than the yelling. “This was an accident. I didn’t mean it. Not like this…”

“Nevertheless, it happened,” grumbled Barry. He settled himself in the cuddle cote where he would be within easy comforting range of baby Lup. Just like Kravitz had settled to be ready for anny of baby Taako’s needs. “Their names are Lulu and Koko, if they don’t remember being grownups.”

“I don’t think they do. Would there be any way to test it? They barely speak Elven…”

Kravitz shook his head. “I’m pretty sure that if they did remember adulthood, they’d be doing more to try and solve this puzzle.” He glanced at the sleeping baby Taako. “That’s assuming he isn’t enjoying this second childhood…”

Angus sank into the pillows with a hopeless groan. “Gods let this be over,” he whimpered. “Gods, let this be over soon…”

*

“Koko! Get outta that soup! Lulu! Don’t eat that soup![1]”

Childish giggling erupted from the kitchen where the soup was supposed to be cooling for long storage in the Fantasy Freezer. Koko had evidently decided that this was an interesting bath and Lulu wanted to see how her brother tasted as a garnish. How they had got up on the countertop was a mystery that Angus didn’t particularly care to solve.

His leading theory was that wherever the cats could go, the twins could climb. They were agile little shits, and seemingly adept at using random bits of furniture to get into things that they shouldn’t really get into.

Angus scooped Koko out of the soup, holding the dripping child version of his mentor. “Please tell me you didn’t pee in there?”

Giggling. That was neither a yes nor a no.

Lulu took a sip from the ladle. “Ur yuck!”

Now Angus knew for sure. “You peed in it. Grub.” He didn’t think, just placed the filthy child down on the floor and tipped the ruined soup down the sink. “That’s it. I’m buying a gigantic crate of ramen and blaming you for my lack of nutrition.” He dumped the pot in the sink and scooped up Koko before he could run very far away. “You just earned yourself a bath, mister smarty-pants.”

Koko was kicking up a stink, more because Angus was taking him away from his sister than because he was getting a bath. Lulu stomped after him, yowling in protest because her brother was kicking up a stink.

“You can have a bath, too,” Angus said, “It’s just that mister messy, here, needs it more.” He was speaking Elven, the one language they had in common. On the plus side, he was getting more practice than ever in his Elven. On the minus side, he was too worn out for his normal studies.

Good thing the post-graduate program was understanding about this mess.

Lulu attempted to climb his leg and Angus scooped her up in his other arm. The twins were quieter when they were together, but when they were quieter that automatically meant that they were up to no good.

Even on the rare occasions when he found them napping in one of the cat’s cubbies, they were up to no good. They had a habit of finding shiny objects before they were lost and taking them into small hidey-holes. That wasn’t when they were busy looking for Angus’ stash of Sugar-Me-Do cereal.

Small Elves should never have processed sugar. One encounter was enough for Angus. It was also enough for the twins, and they now made it their lives’ mission to find it again and have more.

Prestidigitation took care of Koko’s dirtied clothes. A bath full of warm, soapy water took care of the twins. It also took care of his third outfit for the day.

“Honestly,” he said. “I’m only trying to keep you safe and well.” Angus scrubbed some congealed smear off of Koko’s leg. “I really understand how tough it can be. I understood like five days ago. Wish fucking granted…”

Once again, it didn’t work. The baby twins remained babies. Angus had cast Wish on himself, not them. He couldn’t cure it by Wishing them back to normal.

Clean, but not dry, Koko escaped the towel with a gleeful shriek and went running up the hall. Kravitz must be home.

“Hallo, bare bum boy,” Kravitz’s voice singsonged. “Escape again, did ya?”

Koko didn’t use his words, just made an incomprehensible squeak of glee. Lulu clambered out of the tub to join what she knew had to be the fun.

Angus was more or less forced to chase after the two of them with towels. Cursing all the way.

Kravitz had Koko wrapped up in his feathered cloak, held high in his arms. The child had his arms wrapped around the reaper and was grinning like he’d won a prize.

Lulu was wet and pouting that Barry wasn’t there for similar hugs. Angus scooped her up and started drying her off. “I guess he really likes you, sir.”

“Yeah,” Kravitz sighed. He turned his face towards Koko and said, “I love you too.” And he delivered a kiss to the baby wizard’s brow.

One thing about wishes… if they’re bad ones, they can be reversed with True Love’s Kiss.

There was another thunderclap, and another flash of light, another wave of energy that knocked Angus and Kravitz flat. Where there was once a toddler, there was now the adult Taako, looking rather stunned and clad only in his husband’s robe.

Lulu, still a baby and still in Angus’ arms, looked up at him in shock. “Wuh?”

“True love’s kiss,” crowed Taako. “Fuck yeah! Agnes, go put Lulu down for me.”

Lulu was close to tears. “Koko… Koko come back…”

Taako knelt down. “No, babe. I’m gonna bring you back,” and he kissed her on top of her head.

After yet another thunderclap and flash of light, Lup was using the towel as a rather ineffective shield for her modesty. “Wow,” she said. “Okay. Let’s never do that again, okay?”

“Hell fuck yeah,” Angus agreed. “I’m gonna never use the words I and wish in sequence ever again.”

He would wait a week before taunting Taako about peeing in the soup.

[1] Shut up, I had to. [For those of you who don’t get it, this is an adjusted Steam Powered Giraffe reference that you’d only get if you’ve seen David’s vines.]

TAZ prompts remaining: 6

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They split up their talents. Angus could find just about anything with the right sources via periodicals. Agatha had the charisma to get most people to trust her with information that they would not impart to anyone else. As an information-gathering team, they were almost unstoppable.

Almost.

On the trail of one of the viler abductors in Ranadto City, they had some clues, but not enough for a definite plan of action. They definitely had some evidence, but they needed the right spellcasters to divine anything out of it.

Angus was back on the trail with the periodicals, coming up with several possible leads. With those winding up with small mentions of things that could be evidence on Agatha’s side of things. He brought out his Stone of Farspeech and tuned it to Agatha’s frequency.

She didn’t answer. Not the first call. Not the second call. By the third call, Angus got worried. The Bureau of Benevolence bracers had a tracking spell that Angus only used for dire emergencies. Missing the third call only qualified for a map trace, giving an agent’s rough location on any given map.

Agatha’s trace pointer was jinking around her last known location like a flea on a hotplate. If she was running and fighting, she might need his help. Though, knowing her, she would likely help him for the cleaning up, afterwards.

…but why was there a fight happening at the Investigations Office?

It wasn’t far, but when he got there, the entire building was in chaos. All the BOB people were screaming and running hither and yon. Running into rooms with one exit, and then attempting to climb sheer walls. People were wriggling out of windows and then screaming because they were now up above the ground. Even when they were on the ground floor.

Something was major league fucked up.

Angus sent a quick message to the moon base for some top class mages to unfuck things at the earliest convenience. In the meantime, he had to find his wife.

She was in the Files room, which had a relatively confounding labyrinth of filing cabinets. He could hear her clattering around within, attempting to quiet her rapid breaths and rolling ones. The edges of her hushed shrieks tore at his heart.

“Agatha… Agatha, it’s Angus. I’m here for you.”

Even under a spell where she was terrified of nothing, she ran into his arm.

“Deep breaths, babe. Deeep breaths. It’s going to be okay.”

“They’re coming. They’re coming to get me. We have to run. We have to hide.”

“Not any more,” he said. There was nobody here but BOB personnel. “They’re gone. They’re gone, now, babe. Come on. You tell me five things you see, okay?”

She pushed at him, urged him to hide in the filing labyrinth. “They’re coming… I can see them in every shadow. We have to run. We have to…”

“What do they look like?”

“Dark. Dark shadows. They’re coming. They’re everywhere.”

This had to be some kind of hallucinatory curse. Everyone here was completely terrified beyond reason. He didn’t want to use his magic against her, but… if she kept running at this level of terror, she would run to exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he cooed. “I’m gonna cast Sleep on you so that we can sort this all out. You’re going to be safe, I promise.”

She was shaking in his arms. “Keep them away from me?”

“Of course.” He cast Sleep at the highest level he had, getting everyone else in the immediate area. Upstairs and downstairs. It took four such spells and some added Featherfalls for the poor souls at the windows to get the entire Investigations Office laid out in the emergency bunk racks. Gently tethered down in case they woke up in the same state they went under.

It took every atom of control he had to leave his lovely wife in her nebulous state of distress. It was harder than leaving the rest of his coworkers in a similar state a mages, clerics, and other investigators flooded into the scene.

He didn’t know he was crying until Taako stopped to help mop his face. “Ease up, boychick. We’re sorting this thing out as lickety-fucking-split as we can.”

“I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t reach her…”

“Happens, sometimes. You can’t fix everything. You did good with what you had. That’s the important part. Sometimes, ya gotta let smarter people deal with things. That’s happening now.”

Taako used to be taller than him. Now Angus could rest the Elf’s head against his chest as his adopted Dad had once done for him. He clung to Taako and sobbed into his hat.

“Easy, there, kiddo. Easy. This ain’t permanent. We ain’t stuck.”

So hard to believe it, right at that moment.

“Yeah, all they had to do was find the enspelled artifact and fucking smash it,” said Agatha. “We’re fine, you big baby.”

He was never happier to scoop up his family in his arms. Taako in one and Agatha in the other. Though he only had kisses for Agatha. She was a little wet-eyed herself, eager to give as well as receive.

“Put me down, damnit,” Taako complained. “You’re ruining my brand.”

Agatha caught her breath as Angus put them down. “I think they took something. I was trying to fight them in the files when the curse hit.”

Adopted father and son had an identical reaction, “Well, fuck.”

However, Angus knew that criminals only destroyed evidence that would work against them. “We need to identify what’s missing. That’s the thing that would have definitely identified them.”

Like all bad guys who attempted to obscure their path, they actually made an arrow pointing right to them.

Angus was going to fuck them up. Big time. Him and everyone else in the Bureau who loved Agatha.

TAZ Prompts remaining: 5

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It wasn’t exactly late. Not according to the clock. It was just that he was up all night doing research on the next Grand Relic and didn’t get the kind of sleep that a small boy truly needs to make it through another day.

People in higher education did this sort of thing all the time, and Angus was wondering how. Maybe it had something to do with being grown.

Right now, though, it was hard to focus on anything. He was distracted, disorganised, feeling debilitated. He had to admit, he was also a little disoriented. All of these were good reason to not be training in the Icosagon.

Angus ignored them. If the rest of the people here could train in any circumstances, then so could he.

That was why he made the critical mistake.

He’d been tumbling with Carey and Killian, working on some Rogue evasion skills with Magnus, when he heard Taako’s voice say, “Shield!”

That was a cantrip he knew. Something was arcing towards him through the air.

Angus thought, Magic Missile and lifted his wand.

It was pointed the wrong way.

Three D4 damage later, he woke up in the Base hospital. It was after dark and the lights were low and someone’s hand was on his. Angus reached out with his free hand, finding his glasses and the light switch. Fortunately, in that order.

The being holding his hand was Taako. Elves didn’t need sleep, they said, but this Elf seemed to be conked the fuck out. Slouched uncomfortably in a hospital chair that could easily double as a torture device. His impeccably white shirt was besmirched with blood and snot and some smoke on one shoulder.

Right where someone would cradle a bleeding child’s head as they ran to get that child to help.

Taako startled upright, mumbling, “…no chicken!” His mismatched eyes focussed and he instantly played like he was totally unconcerned. “I said shield, dingus. Not magic missile.” He rearranged his braid, swinging it over to mask the telltale shoulder from view. Too late. “Don’cha trust your tutor, kiddo?”

“I wasn’t thinking, sir,” said Angus.

“Clearly.”

“And I–” he blushed. He was mortified and ashamed and he didn’t want Magic Day to end because of this, but he had to tell the truth… “I didn’t obey rule two.”

Rule one: trust your tutor.

Rule two: get enough rest.

Taako heaved a sigh. “Agnes, Agnes, Agnes… Hot on a case, were ya?”

“I thought I had a lead, but it was a warlock trying to lure people in for a cult.” He still didn’t want to look Taako in the eye. “I didn’t realise the time until Ms Killian came to collect me for practice.”

“Rule three as well, huh?” Which was: always have a good breakfast. “That’s technically three rules in one day, boyo. Know what that means?”

Now the tears finally came. Now he couldn’t even look in Taako’s direction. Now he barely had a voice. “…magic day’s cancelled?”

“Hell fuck no, little man. If anything, magic day’s doubled.”

He couldn’t focus, what with the water in his eyes. “Pardon, sir?”

“You need to level up a little. Get yourself some fucking hit points. You almost wiped yourself out with a dumb mistake.”

Angus wiped his eyes and grinned. “Thank you sir…”

“And…” Taako added. “You’re getting a fucking babysitter. You need people to remind you when it’s bedtime. Or breakfast-time, meal-time… Fuck, you need a whole gods-damned schedule.”

Shame still burned him. He could feel his freedom evaporating. “’M sorry, sir.”

“Buddy, it’s you you’re hurting here. I’m just one who’s tryin’a stop that.” Taako made play of inspecting his nails. “Probably everyone else on the base, now, after that stunt. You got yerself a base full’o parents by now.” A moment’s thought passed. “Maybe a gram’ma in the case of Madam Herself. You’ll be able to tell if she makes you sugar cookies. Now. Let’s see how good you are at following rule two. I’m on the roster for making sure you follow rule three as well.”

Angus woke to a luxurious breakfast and no sign of Taako. Waffles. Eggs. Bacon. Non-dairy, all of it. A gooey sweet compote of seasonal fruits. The first of his new, adopted mothers was waiting nearby. Killian.

“I dunno who cooked that for you,” she said, “but they know their shit, so there’s only a few suspects. You eat until you’re full, kid. Then you get some exercise with me, or reading with Davenport.”

That… sounded like his usual plan for the day. The only difference was that he wasn’t alone any more. He always had someone nearby to remind him of the passage of time. Even the three men he most admired.

They weren’t just monitoring him. They were spending time with him. Which was, when he got down to realising that, the most important part.

I haven’t got to any prompts I can’t handle, yet. I presume if someone sent me something squicky [eg: paedophilic content is on my no-no list. Will not write that bullshit] the response is most likely to be a stern telling-off, if I don’t just delete the prompt.

It takes me an hour or two to write a story for a prompt. I usually turn on Critical Role (I’m catching up with Season 1) so I have a specific thing to zone out with between spates of inspiration. I am prone to wiki walks and just plain forgetting what I’m supposed to be doing, and Critical Role helps me stay in one place. Mental Junebugging if you will.

[For those of you not familiar with the concept - Junebugging is what the ADHD set do to unfuck portions of their habitat. They set a mental tether to one specific area and that’s their return point. I’m just doing that with editing windows. I don’t have ADHD, I just do a remarkable impersonation of it]

Thanks for the love, friendo. Be sure to visit internutter.org and look in on all the other projects I have going. You’ll soon see that I can’t not write. Hopefully something I do for other interests will interest you.

[AN: Pour les Artistes - Neosemo (an anagram of “someone” in case y’all missed it) is a half-orc teenager and on the scrawny side when Ango adopts the lad, his condition improves thereafter. Before this story, he is poorly groomed and has bad hygiene. This changes hereafter]

Neosemo attempted to keep track. Everyone knew about Luume, and how Elves were crazy, dangerous, and a combination of the two when that time of the decade hit. Miller Labs had come out with little wearable device to warn young Elves, those of irregular cycles, and literally everyone else around them that things were going to venture into interesting times.

It was still a work in progress.

Currently, he was realising that Luume-influenced adoption was way quicker and more effective than the official paperwork kind. Clerics were busy making certain that, as a Halfblood, Professor freaking McDonald’s Luume bonding was as effective as if he were a full Elf.

So far, he had interrupted the procedures three times to make certain Neosemo had adequate food, drink, and comfort. It kind’a seemed like it was pretty fucking effective to him. One of the tests was to forcibly separate Neoseomo from McDonald’s perception and time how long the Professor took before fretting.

Half an hour. Pretty much right on the button for the fresh Luume adoption of a teen.

Neosemo hadn’t had much in the way of friendly contact. He and the gang he had hung out with usually communicated through punching. It was… kind’a shocking to have someone bigger and stronger than him just scoop him up and purr. It was really weird to have someone pet his hair.

Weird… but nice. He could get used to this.

“It’s going to be okay, now. We can stay in the townhouse until we work out stuff. I’m guessing you have friends? Associates?”

Other strays? He shrugged. “There’s some people I hang out with, yeah. They’d pro’lly wanna throw a party.” This was part of Neosemo’s test. See if these fancy people sneered at his grammar and diction.

They didn’t. McDonald smirked like he knew exactly what was up. “I think I know a fresh grandfather who might like to throw a party. Just… be prepared for some drama.”

The nice lady -Agatha- who had at least kept the interesting times in check for the most disturbing day in Neosemo’s life, was now spraining herself attempting not to laugh. Her dark eyes were twinkling. She cleared her throat. “Dear, that’s like telling someone falling into a star to prepare for some heat.”

McDonald giggled a little and echoed, “Dear…” Luume still had him goofy, apparently, about this woman he had set his heart on.

“Focus,” said Agatha. “Step one. Let’s get somewhere safer and make sure everyone has what they need.”

“Papa’s gonna drag me for a year,” said McDonald, “but there’s a Harga’s nearby.”

Agatha said, “I’ll argue safe and familiar environment for you. You’ve been through enough.”

McDonald offered his hand, which Neosemo declined. Luume may be permanent, but trusting these people was not his first instinct.

“I’m cool with following,” he said. “There’s a meal in it.”

There was a steep learning curve. Starting with an interesting definition of ‘family’ from McDonald. The man had the Seven freaking Birds as immediate relatives, and none of them by blood. ‘Papa’ was the Taako, one of the famous Twins.

‘Home’ was an enormous Mountain Ygdrasi tree, shaped into a mansion. They were rich as fuck and actually worked at helping those with less advantages. Taako had free food depots all over Faerun, and anyone with the slightest lick of magical talent wound up in his school.

McDonald, who was Taako’s first rescue, saw absolutely nothing wrong with buying Neosemo a whole bunch of clothes and things, including some survival shit just in case Neosemo decided to run off on his own. 

Not likely. Kids like him prayed to come across a Luume-addled Elf and get a new home. With the Twins in the picture, some of the others might just get a better start anyway.

McDonald may be biologically compelled to nurture Neosemo, but the rest of the family weren’t. Neosemo only knew what he’d seen from the assorted plays he’d been able to sneak into. That sort of thing wasn’t an accurate or a pretty picture.

Harga’s was good. McDonald and Agatha payed for more than the all-you-can-gobble-for-an-hour special. They let Neosemo choose his own clothes, and state his levels of comfort.

It was shocking that McDonald knew what it was like from the adoptee side of things. He told the story of Faerun’s shittiest orphanage, his own rescue, and Taako’s experience with the shittiest corners of life.

It was so hard to believe that they’d been where he lived. That they knew all about fucked-up normals. That they were ready to fight anything that might drag him down. They had strategies.

Neosemo had a new bed. He wore pyjamas after his first family dinner. He knew that people were nearby to protect him.

He could get used to this.

Angus was starting to get used to the farm. He liked the riding deer and they liked him back, and riding on them was like magic, even when Taako was doing all the steering with Angus perched in front.

It was such a shame that he had to go back for yet another assessment at the orphanage at the end of the month. He didn’t want to dread that day. He wanted to soak in as much Taako time as he could get. Which was why he was wrapped around the Elf in question whilst he talked on his Stone to some people.

Kravitz had left on urgent Reaper business. Taako’s so-far-invisible sister and brother-in-law were doing the same thing. Taako had just been called up for some Bureau business and he was calling around to various babysitting agencies to try and find someone to look after Angus.

Who did not want to let Taako go, at this point.

Finally, Taako sighed and carried them both outdoors to a fallow field. He pointed and touched the sigil on his silver bracer, then sort of danced with Angus in his arms.

“I know. I know. This is scary beans, right now. Listen. I do not want to leave you, okay? This is… this is hero stuff I gotta do. And… since there’s literally nobody I can hire to keep you safe, I gotta take you with me to the next safest place I know.”

Angus saw that Taako had his travel bag with. It looked like it was stuffed to the brim with all sorts of things. A soft toy poked out of one flap, and the rectangular shape in its bulk could easily be a Caleb Cleveland book. Angus deduced that this was not a trip back to the orphanage. Not with that much stuff crammed into the travel bag.

A gigantic sphere landed in the fallow field and Taako threw the travel bag into it, then fussed with the booster seat before he got into a chair by some controls.

“You and me? We’re going to the moon, little man.”

Angus couldn’t reach the travel bag. He could see the giant tree of a house fall away. Then the clouds. One of the moons was getting closer and closer. Taako offered his hand. Angus didn’t know about taking it. He’d already strapped him to a chair that was out of easy reach.

A crater on the moon opened up. Into darkness.

“It’s okay,” said Taako. “It’s safe.”

Pitch black. Angus could smell the rotten blood and foul sewerage stink of the Quiet Room. He felt cold invade his bones. He could feel the slimy mildew under his fingers.

Light shocked him. Angus half expected to see Mr Thud looming over him or Nurse Stronginthearm ready to literally carry him to the next destination. What there really was looked kind of like a city in the sky, all domes and what looked like glass and fancy people in blue. These were the heroes of the BOB. What was once the Bureau of Balance, and was now the Bureau of Benevolence. An organisation of the best of the best who went out and helped with problems all over Faerun.

“Okay. We’re here. I’m gonna pick you up and carry you out, is that okay?”

Angus could barely nod. He could still feel the cold of the Quiet Room. He could still smell its stench. It overpowered Taako’s cologne. Angus was still and quiet all the way to a grassy quad where Taako sat him down. The travel bag was close by, this time, as was Taako.

“I’m right here if you need a hug. Or, if you like, you can just reach out and feel the grass. I packed you everything you could need… all you have to do is look…”

Angus was just about to touch the grass when a pair of businesslike shoes appeared in his field of vision. That was the last straw. He screamed, curling up into a ball and waiting for the bad things to go away.

*

Taako glared up at Luce. This was, as far as he was concerned, another bad mark against a woman he had once trusted like a sister. The sister she had surgically removed from his memories. Sure, he got those memories back, but it was the ten-to twelve years without her memory that still stung. “I sent you a list of things to not do, Lucretia. You just did fucking five of them.”

He could see how her name hurt her, flung like that like a knife from his lips. She backed away. Circling around until she would be in view, but safely distant.

Taako focussed on Angus. Humming a popular tune and rattling his bracelets. Once Angus relaxed a little, Taako brushed the little boy’s skin with the ends of his hair. A golden braid against smooth, dark skin. “There now,” he cooed. “There now. I got the unicorn plush with. You want?”

A bare ghost of a nod. Angus reverted to Utterly Correct Posture. He was in a bad brain space, the poor kid.

Taako handed him the unicorn plush, which Angus faked a smile over and brushed. In a few minutes, the soft fuzz and squishiness would help him actually relax. Taako dug out one of the conditioning muffins and warmed it up with Prestidigitation. Angus liked them when they were warm.

Angus nibbled at it, watching Lucretia with wide, fearful eyes.

“This is Madam Director,” said Taako. “You’d remember her being a lot younger in the Story and Song.”

Madam Director said, “I could put on a red–”

“Shut,” warned Taako, one finger upraised. “She will not hurt you, Angus. She’s going to watch over you and make sure you’re safe. Okay?”

Angus had yet to look her in the face. He was watching her body for any kind of aggressive tell. Having nibbled the top off of the muffin, he was carefully peeling back the paper and nibbling the crumbs off it before he worked on the actual muffin. Eventually, he nodded.

“Okay,” said Taako. He got the Trust Rope out because Angus didn’t always feel safe holding anyone’s hand. “That’s good. I’m gonna trust you to hold one loop here and you’re gonna trust me to lead you somewhere safe, okay? Just like the other times.”

Nod.

“Stand up when you’re ready to go. I’m gonna talk to Madam Director. I’ll be close if you need help.”

Angus just nibbled on his muffin.

Taako got himself up, dusted himself off, and grit his teeth for the next part. He walked as calmly as he could manage over to her, gathering his thoughts. He said, “Remember cycle thirty-two? That little kid who never said a word?”

“Ember,” said Lucretia. Her eyes shed some tears. “I could never forget.”

“Angus is like her. Always get permission, always be gentle. Never lie. No cows’ milk or sesame seeds or anything that’s been near either. I got a bunch of meals in the bag, and one of his favourite books. He likes character voices. You should be able to handle it.”

Angus stood up, still clinging to the plush unicorn, still nibbling on his muffin.

Taako offered one end of the trust rope. “You might have to let something go, pumpkin…”

He surrendered the plush. 

Taako tucked it back into the bag and took up  the other end of the Trust Rope. Letting Lucretia also hold on to his loop. “Okay. Show us the way to the softest safe space you got, Madam Director.”

*

Two meals and a good nap later, Madam Director was still sitting quietly on a bean bag in the Soft Room on the Moon.

Angus knew that Taako disliked her, so he didn’t exactly want to talk at all near her. He had the unicorn plush, and his book, and Taako had packed a lot of meals in the special packs that kept them fresh and warm. There were notes,

So far, Angus had found, I know you don’t believe me, but I never want to leave you without anyone of your own. He had also found, I never wanted to go, and I’m trying as hard as I can to get back to you.

Madam director had the cupcake wrapper that he had nibbled clean, and was folding and re-folding it on the padded floor. She seemed pleased with herself. “There,” she said. The wrapper was now folded into the shape of a peacock. “What do you think?”

Angus shrugged. He made himself comfortable in a corner far away from her and opened his book to where he’d left off.

“Want me to read with you?”

Only Kravitz was allowed to do that. Angus shook his head. There were no clocks in the soft room. Just a big square of a room with colourful walls and lots of padding and cushions and bean bags and fluffy blankets. He just finished an excellent fight scene when a familiar tearing meant that Kravitz had come for him. Angus turned just in time to see the scythe of his office evaporate.

“There’s our little boy,” Kravitz cooed.

Angus didn’t care about the implications of a child preferring the sweet embrace of Death than Madam Director’s company. He just ran for Kravitz because he knew Kravitz was safe.

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