I just made the tiniest squeep noise. Thank you, friendo. I honestly don’t know how to feel about this, but… it’s somewhere between

[GIF of an owl with wide pupils and blush marks drawn on its face. Little cartoon hearts twinkle around its head]

And

[GIF of Wayne and Garth from Wayne’s World genuflecting and chanting “We’re not worthy” at Alice Cooper]

Some days, it’s hard to find the time to make a story, and most days I wonder if I’ve done the right thing with it. It’s always a pleasure to write them, though.

Comments like this make it all worthwhile.

Do tell your friends I exist. I’m trying to make a living out of this writing lark when I’m not writing absolute reams of fanfic. Who knows? Maybe someone out there will like my horseshit enough to want to publish my pro stuff. I can only get to them through word of mouth, so… any help there is greatly appreciated.

Reblogs go further than likes. We all know this. On the off chance that I’ve written something your friends will like - share it around. At them. Give them links via your preferred avenue of communication.

[I am way past due to do today’s flash fiction, but I so rarely get fan mail I had to answer. Apologies to the folks waiting for today’s story, I love you all]

Love and hugs :D

Oooh, I could go on for ages about this. I shall attempt to keep it succinct.

[Obligatory disclaimer: my headcannons are not your headcannons, I do not intend to offend anyone anywhere ever, if you see any of these characters differently, then that’s fine by me]

First up, the big one: There is only one White person in all of TAZ: Balance, and that is John Hunger. Pick a Hollywood Chris™, dye their hair black, and sharpen their features a little. Maybe a touch of grey at the temples, but that’s pretty much it. A black-and-white character with black-and-white views.

The rest is under a cut [apologies to everyone reading this on mobile. I tried not to go on for years, but… I rolled a one] because FUCK, I went on for a millennia down here.

Keep reading

I was planning that anyway. It’s just going to be written five days hence. Thank you for your patience in waiting for your story.

Ango didn’t have very many tells, but by now, Taako knew them all. The stiffly formal posture, the subtle air of trepidation, and, of course, the word ‘sir’ when referring to himself, Krav, or any other male in the immediate vicinity.

Angus was roughed up, and unfamiliar with his surroundings. “…did I do something bad, sir?” he squeaked. His voice was barely a whisper.

“Aw beans, I’m sorry kiddo. You’re gonna be okay.” Breathe. Focus. Tell the truth and don’t pull any goofs. He had to be careful with his goofs with his kid at this stage of things. “This is my fault. I zigged when I should’a zagged. You just stay put…” he got his first aid kit out of his pack. “I’m gonna ask you a few questions, and some of ‘em might seem silly but I need ya to be honest as you can, okay? I got stuff here to patch you up… can I do that?”

Angus nodded.

“To make it fair, you can ask me questions, too.” Taako cleared his throat. “What’s the last thing you remember before wakin’ up on the floor here?”

“…they gave me my birthday cupcake in the cafeteria, sir…”

“Really? Happy birthday. How old are you?”

“…three years old, today, sir… may i ask? …who are you?”

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Taako almost won the fight to keep the wince off his face. “This is gonna be a little bit difficult to take in, kiddo. Uhm. You’re five now. And… Krav -my husband- and I… we… we adopted you.”

Blam. Blank face. Not betraying anything and shutting down completely. Instant disbelief.

Taako struggled to keep a pleasant and calm demeanour. This was just like the early days, when he had to build trust. This made him want to puke. “This is an antiseptic salve, it won’t sting. Can I put it on your scrapes?”

Gods, he could grow to hate that blank-faced nod. Taako focussed intensely on getting all the scrapes and a small aura around them for the unbroken skin that could still sting.

Taako gained permission to add bandages. He had Caleb Cleveland brand bandages of healing in his kit, something that earned a flicker of surprise from Angus. “It looks like you got hit with a memory spell, sweetheart.” Oops, that was the wrong word to say. “I promise I will never hurt you, okay? There’s an inn near here. Big public space, relatively quiet. Want to go there?”

He hardly moved, but that was a nod.

Taako wracked his brains for all the old solutions that had helped in the early days when Ango was afraid of everything. He dug around in his pack and found what he was looking for. The trust rope. A brightly-coloured, short length of rope, turned into loops at both ends. “I gotta keep you close ‘cause I’m supposed to look after ya, right? So… I trust you to hang on to one end of this, and you trust me to…” his voice cracked, briefly. “You trust me to lead you safely where ya wanna go…”

*

The inn was good. Clean and happy, and full of people but not full enough to be too loud for Angus’ liking. There were nice people here. He sat properly and enjoyed the stew that Mr Taako had purchased.

Mr Taako was very upset. Stressed and close to tears. Worried and scared. He’d ordered the stew and a small beer for Angus, but nothing for himself. He was calling people on his Stone of Farspeech. 

Angus listened to the names. Kravitz. Lucretia. Merle. None of these names seemed familiar to him, unless he counted the Story and Song from the weird light. Mr Taako was from that story, but he didn’t seem like the callous hero he had become during that hundred-year journey. Mr Taako trembled and fought off tears. Something bad had to have happened to someone he cared about.

Because of the spell, Angus didn’t count himself in that group.

He sat politely, quietly, like a good boy. Listening to the inn’s bard. Watching as people arrived to look at him. An old male Dwarf with flowers in his beard and a living branch for one arm and a missing eye with an owl on the eyepatch. He spoke gruffly and was kind’a frightening. Angus had to roll a will save to stay exactly where he was. An older human woman who almost dripped gravitas as she sat with Mr Taako and spoke in a quiet voice.

A man in mostly black arrived and Mr Taako launched himself into the other man’s arms, and buried his face into the black-clad man’s shoulder. The gold band shining from this new stranger’s ebony fingers could indicate that this was the husband ‘Kravitz’ whom Mr Taako had spoken of. He confirmed it by kissing Mr Taako’s brow and murmuring, “It’s going to be all right, love. We’ll solve this. Jus’ breathe, darling.”

The older human woman was casting diagnostic spells, weaving patterns of light around Angus’ head. “The good news is, young Mr McDonald will recover in time.”

Mr Taako didn’t move from Mr Kravitz’s arms. “Gimmie the bad news, Luce.”

A deep breath. A long sigh. “He’s going to need familiarity in order to remember. An environment that he remembers, food… people…”

Now Mr Taako moved. Turning away from Mr Kravitz with tears in his eyes and a snarl on his face. “Find. Another. Way. Like fuck am I sending him back into that hell hole.”

That was some real strong emotion. Angus could believe that Mr Taako had seen the orphanage and really didn’t like it. Angus could begin to believe that he could trust Mr Taako.

The older human woman said, “I’ll get the Bureau of Benevolence onto that dark magic cult your son had found. Mr McDonald? May I have your notebook? The clues you have in there would be a great advantage to us.”

Angus stared at her blankly.

“In your satchel, pumpkin. The… the one with the blue cover and the triangles like this,” Mr Taako showed a silver bracer on his left arm that featured four equilateral triangles making a diamond in the middle.

Angus had a satchel, and hadn’t dared to look in it in case it belonged to someone else. He gingerly opened it and found his own name in the inside flap. There was also a starter wand, a copy of a Caleb Cleveland book he never knew existed, a spare sweater, a mini umbrella… and the aforementioned notebook. Which also had his name on it. It had his writing in it, too. Names, addresses, leads and clues. Just like Caleb Cleveland would do.

Nobody was snatching it off him. Nobody was yelling at him to have it. Ms Lucretia was waiting patiently with one hand open, ready to receive it.

Angus passed it over. He summoned the courage to say, “…i hope you find them, ma’am…”

“We will,” said Ms Lucretia. “When we do, we will kick all their asses on your behalf.”

*

The house was a gigantic tree. Elven architecture, which meant that there were no flat walls, no completely level floors, and lots of winding passages between places. There were also a lot of cats who greeted him like an old friend.

“We’re… staying on the ground floor again,” said Mr Taako. “This old house is just like the one my grandfather used to have. Like. Exactly like the one my grandfather… eh, it’s complicated. Long story short, I inherited it via a technicality.” Mr Taako moved into the kitchen like it wanted him in there. It was a huge space, kept warm by the giant Aga stove. Twenty people could have been cooking in there at once and not one of them would bump elbows with another. He got together a bunch of ingredients on a counter and bowls and tools with them. “This is your home, Ango. And I’m cooking up one of your favourites. You can help if you wanna, I–” he sighed. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna.”

Mr Kravitz was looking at Mr Taako like his heart was breaking. “Dove… are you sure? I remember how much this wrecked you the first time…”

“Our boy is worth getting wrecked over,” said Mr Taako. “Again and again and again. I’ll get wrecked until I’m pulp, babe. Look at him and tell me he’s not worth it.”

Mr Kravitz looked at Angus, and did not tell Mr Taako that Angus wasn’t worth it. He said, “So let’s get this show on the road, Dove. I’ll be your happy helper.”

Mr Kravitz did funny voices that made Angus want to giggle in spite of himself. A cat came to sit on Angus’ lap and it demanded pets. Her name was Neopolitan and she was soft and fluffy and so very friendly. She purred really loud and helped Angus feel safe.

It was the smell of baking that brought a sensation of deja vu to Angus. This kitchen wasn’t too big. It was just right. And Taako was trying so hard to be brave about this whole mess. Angus remembered how to pet Neopolitan just so so that she would stretch out on his lap and keep his knees warm and stick her tongue out and drool a little. He’d always thought that was funny.

The taste of Taako’s ginger bread with butter and lashings of honey and cream brought back a vision of Candlenights, after all the presents had been opened. Watching some garbage on the fantasy television. Snuggled up under a big fluffy blanket between Papa and Dad, surrounded by purring and sleepy cats.

“Egg nog,” said Angus, and the memory was gone again.

Papa was pleased all the same. “That’s right, little man. This bread goes fucking fantastic with egg nog. Want me to whip you up some?”

In a snap, he was afraid again. Unfamiliar again. He could almost remember… but it was just out of reach. “…water, please, sir…”

Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz looked… stricken.

“It’s okay to want things,” said Mr Kravitz. “We have lots. We don’t mind.”

Mr Taako said, “I know how you like it… and how to make it so you don’t get troubles.”

Of course he did. Of course he did. They were family now. Family. There had been a huge party and the smallest dog ever and… And he didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who these people were. He didn’t know why there was a cat on him or how he’d got this slice of… something that smelled like home. Something so familiar and not familiar at the same time and it all made him dizzy…

“Cuddle cote?” said Mr Kravitz.

“Cuddle cote,” decided Mr Taako.

They got permission to move him, and the cat protested softly as she was shifted to a couch. The next thing Angus knew, he was in a huge nest of pillows, blankets and mattresses, with Dad reading his favourite Caleb Cleveland book with his character voices, and Papa was fussing over him and he had a broken purr…

…and he remembered being sick. Really, really sick because their asshole neighbour Susan didn’t believe in vaccinations. But it was almost okay because he got to eat jelly and cream and delicious soups and Papa always made it better with a cooled towel…

…and waking up with nightmares of going back into the urine-soaked, permanently damp, cold, grey orphanage from whence he began. He knew it would be okay because Papa was there. Papa was right there with him and Dad could hold him too and help him feel safe and Papa’s purring would lull him to sleep…

…and the care and artistry that went into Angus’ daily bento boxes. Meat and the special cheese and vegetables and fruit, all arranged into scenes from Caleb Cleveland novels. And a special cupcake tucked away in its own container, with a little note that Papa or Dad had written to be certain he wasn’t lonely at school…

…and a bathtub filled with lemon-scented bubbles. Papa was soaked to the skin and laughing as he tickled Angus with the washcloth. He’d never let Angus fall…

“Papa,” Angus breathed. “Papa… Dad… I’m so sorry I forgot everything…”

His parents lunged, wrapping him up in a hug. Papa’s purr got very loud indeed in that moment, but soon gentled to a soft and soothing parental purr.

“We’re just glad you’re okay, baby,” Papa sighed.

“It’s good to have you back,” said Dad.

It was good to be back. Even with liquid happiness leaking out of his eyes.

Taako was feeling unwell. Brought down by the last vestiges of the moon’s Dire Flu, so Angus McDonald was doing independent study in the Bureau library. In other words, going through whatever magical tome caught his eye and looking for the coolest spells.

He could only do cantrips at the moment, so he was kind-of limited there. Shocking Grasp looked pretty awesome, considering how many bad guys tried to grapple him.

Angus read and re-read the spell. The pronunciation, the hand motions, and the feeling it should induce. He took the borrowed book out to the icosagon where nobody was currently training and tried it out.

Enthusiastically.

The training dummy didn’t give any indication that it was shocked, unfortunately. His hand refused to spark as he did the motions and words.

Then he made the mistake of adjusting his glasses.

Shocking Grasp is a contact spell. Angus temporarily forgot about that.

The next thing he knew, he was staring at the ceiling in the Bureau hospital, next to the only other patient. Taako, you know, from TV. Taako was red-eyed and miserable and sniffly.

Angus was blistered in interesting places. He had been told that he was lucky that he didn’t weld his glasses to his face.

“You look like shit,” Taako croaked.

“Same for you, sir,” rasped Angus.

“The fuck happened to you?”

“Tried learning a cantrip,” he said. “Shocking Grasp.”

“Said th’ word an’ fixed y’r glasses?”

Angus merely blushed.

“This is why you need a tutor,” said Taako. “Goose.”

Agatha had been ill for weeks on end. Angus was scouring every possible cure and remedy that could plausibly work. He was in the library, researching more remedies, as Agatha was off to the family cleric’s. There were a lot of tests for them to run. It was going to take hours.

He’d already run through most of the anti-nausea remedies, and only a few worked. None of them were indicators of specific illnesses. He had it narrowed down to maybe five when Agatha added a sheet to his pile. Right under his nose.

Angus took a moment to re-focus on the hazy image. He thought his glasses had grease on them for a moment, but the blurry image was still a blurry image.

Grey haze, with a black circle in the middle, and on one side of that, a bean-like blob with five odd protrusions. Four small, one leading to the edge of the black void.

Agatha was leaning on the table and smirking like she was proud of herself. “Well?” she said.

Angus did a medicine check and only rolled a five. “This… doesn’t match any of your potential illnesses…”

“That’s ‘cause I’m not sick,” she chirped.

Angus levelled a puzzled look at her. “You’ve been throwing up every morning…”

“Yeah. Morning sickness.”

Once again, Angus was lost. He wasn’t used to this feeling. “That’s… not in any of these books.”

“It’s in this one,” Agatha handed over a kiddies’ primer entitled, How is Babby Formed?

Wait. What? “He– You– We– You mean–?”

“Baby’s baby,” said Agatha. “You’re gonna have to Stone your Dad. He sniffed it out at Candlenights.”

Now everything slotted into place. “Oh shit. He’s gonna claim it’s twins.”

Agatha was watching her pocketwatch, mouthing a countdown under her breath.

Realisation hit Angus like a Balrog. “We made a baby. We’re havin’ a baby. Are you okay? Do you need me to run and fetch anything? Oh shit! Half of the stuff I was trying to give you could’a done some harm. Can they tell if I hurt it?”

“And there’s the freak-out,” Agatha smiled, and kissed him. “Everything’s fine. Relax. Breathe.”

“I’m’unna have to apologise to Taako.”

“Yup. Just… wait until your voice gets back to normal, okay?”

He hadn’t realised it was cracking. “Oohh-kay…” something in his head was dancing the cha-cha and singing about babies.

He was going to be a dad. Whoah.

“Sir?” Angus poked the Elven wizard, who was sprawled on a bench.

“I’m deep in meditation,” he lied.

“You’re hung over,” said Angus. “I just have one question for you, sir. And then I can help you unlock your suite so you can go back to bed.”

Taako’s baleful glare was full of red veins. “Fine. Ask.”

“What happened to Sazed Baker, sir?”

“Who?”

“Your assistant from Sizzle it Up! With Taako, sir.”

Taako moaned, hauling himself up into a roughly seated position. “He left me. Alone. Didn’t tell me where or why. He just left. He took the horse. He took the gold. He just… left. I didn’t look for him, I’m not gonna…” another red-eyed glare, “and you’re not either.”

“But sir…”

“Nope. It’s in the past. It’s done. Four years gone. Don’t even.”

“Sir, I have reason to believe that you were not to blame for the deaths in Glamour Springs.”

“You also have reason to believe in the tooth fairy. Hold up your side of the bargain, little man. Get me into my suite like you said you would.”

Angus did that, and then decided to do some sleuthing on his own.

People escaping the law tended to take different surnames. They kept their given names, and their birthdates. His first stop was the Neverwinter Hall of Records, looking up Sazed Baker, then anyone else who shared a birthdate who came out of nowhere within a few weeks of the final show of Sizzle it Up! With Taako.

Just as Angus predicted. Two weeks after Glamour Springs, there was a trail of Sazeds with the same birthdate. Sazed Vinter. Sazed Merrow. Sazed Raddler. Sazed Tailor. In every town where he took work, he had a different surname. He stuck to small towns, poor towns, and little backwaters where the news was less likely to reach.

He had been going from town to town, job to job, name to name, for four years.

There was a pattern. Sazed never took a name that encapsulated his actual skill. He was headed progressively further away from Glamour Springs. He always travelled via the back roads and, according to the records, Sazed was due to hit a tiny little village called Pig Wallow.

It was faster to catch the cannon there, following a trip via globe to the moon. He could outpace this man.

Angus didn’t believe Sazed to be a villain. He believed him to be a person of interest only.

That was just one mistake.

Another was going to a place like Pig Wallow in his fancy lad clothes.

*

“He did what?”

“Young Mr McDonald has evidently tracked down someone from Taako’s past.” Madam Director. “Whilst I normally approve of his moonlighting as a detective, he’s taken to solving… you, Taako.”

“What?”

There was a copy of a headline on Angus’ wall of madness. Taako knew it well. He didn’t want to read it again.

“Oh gods,” said Magnus. “That’s why you stopped touring?”

Taako was already out of the room. “Let’s just hurry up and fetch the brat.”

Pig Wallow was exactly the kind of place that lived up to its name. Everything here was made out of mud. The crops grew in mud, most of them were used to feed the pigs that gave the little town its name. The people were muddy up to their knees, and bore an inbred suspicion of strangers.

Magnus, the closest to Angus’ natural skin tone, pretended to be Angus’ father, looking for his son who liked to dress up fancy and poke around asking questions.

Nobody had seen anything, of course. They didn’t trust anyone, until Magnus made an impassioned speech about Angus being the only family he had left after his wife died. Only after that did the fingers of suspicion point towards the newcomer. Sazed Carpenter. Who lived on the outskirts and kept to himself and raised pigs like everyone else.

By all reports, he was a fairly good swineherd. The most important part of those reports was that the fancy lad had last been seen heading towards the Carpenter hut.

Magnus rushed in. Taako summoned Garyl. In order to expedite their journey, he cast Levitate on Merle and towed him along like a weirdly ugly balloon.

The best news was that Angus had got Sazed monologuing.

“…first time’s always hard,” Sazed was saying. “Most times, it’s an accident. I intended to just make him sick. I should have thought things through. Stopped criticising his weight. If he’d just tasted his cooking… Nobody else would have had to die.”

Angus’ voice. “How does that connect with the string of missing persons in your trail, sir?”

A chuckle. “Sir. Nobody ever called me ‘sir’ in my entire life. For a smart kid, you’re kind’a stupid. Can’t you piece it together?”

“Given the victim profiles, sir, I can guess that they were chosen for their wealth. One thing eludes me, though. No trace was ever found of their bodies. How did you do that, sir?”

Taako could hear Sazed’s smirk. “Pigs will eat anything, and I’m a very good swineherd.” Taako could almost hear him preening. “They won’t find any trace of you, either. Nosy boy.”

Magnus rushed in, reducing the door to splinters as he did so. Taako, however, took aim and cast a spell full of tentacles and madness.

“Abraca-fuck you!”

Squirming tentacles summoned from a cthuloid void grappled Sazed. Magnus cut the table that Angus was bound to to shreds and Merle hustled the kid out and onto Garyl.

“Glad to see you alive, pint-size,” said Garyl. “You know you did a very stupid thing, right?”

“I did gather,” said Angus.

“Cool. Cool.”

The Reclaimers were back outside in seconds, breaking off from the fight and focussing on getting the hell out of Pig Wallow before the natives decided not to take a shine to these new strangers.

The Pig Wallow people had a very simple approach to strangers.

Angus didn’t say a thing about how tight Taako held him as they galloped away. He didn’t say a word about the wetness leaking from Taako’s mismatched eyes. He never said a thing about the elven wizard’s pounding heartbeat as they escaped a whole village full of peasants with torches.

He didn’t get to say anything about Sazed until they were in the globe and headed back to the moon.

“He admitted to trying to poison you, sir.”

“Fat lot of good it does,” said Taako. “Whole world still thinks it was me.” He wasn’t really looking at anything. “Could still have been me…”

Angus suspected that it wasn’t Taako at all. The problem was… there was no proof. 

[AN: Faerun doesn’t have Halloween, but it does have the midsummer festival with the eclipse and all, so I’m going there]

Taako guessed that there would be trouble when he asked, “Excited for the Summer Faire?” and got the answer, “No.”

He cast his mind back to the shittiest places he had ever survived, and the festivals he had been made to participate in, trying to fit his own horrible memories into the traditions of Faerun. “Bigger kids beat you up? Or were they working to be their scariest?”

“Both,” said Angus. “They always put me right in the middle of the games. Like… almost drowning me during apple bobbing. Or going to knock down the cans and then throwing the balls at me.”

“I get the picture.” Taako sucked on his teeth. “We both know none of those assholes are gonna be around to taunt you, but that’s not the point. Y’know… you could have the scariest costume?”

Angus, having learned Disguise Self, cast it and changed himself into the very image of his Aunt Lup when she was in her lich form. He even did the ghostly whisper. “How’s this…?”

“Well. Gotta tell ya. I ain’t scared ‘cause that’s my sister and you’re adorable. That spell only lasts an hour, though. I could go ahead and enchant an Angus-sized red robe to do that for you. Sound good?”

Angus was still for a long time, thinking about it. He eventually said, “Yes, sir.”

Taako didn’t expect much in the way of words from him. Not yet. “You think I’d look good as Caleb Cleveland?”

A shy smile dawned on his face. “Mr Kravitz is already doing Caleb Cleveland, sir. Perhaps a different hero?”

“Got any favourites?”

*

Caleb Cleveland was waiting, hand-in-hand with a tiny, flaming Lup from TV. “Hurry up, Taako!”

“Just a sec’,” he called from within. He emerged in an outfit so bright and loud that it would screw up any stealth check for life. Bright yellow pants with dark pinstripes. Mismatched patchwork vest. Bright blue polka-dotted tie, and an equally mismatched patchwork coat. Taako had a mop of brown curls in the place of his usual golden cascade. “You got any idea how hard it is to get this wig right?”

Angus was giggling.

“Yeah, laugh it up, little man. I’m never leaving your side the entire day.”

It wasn’t far to the local fair, especially not on the estate’s riding deer. Riding on a deer was up on Angus’ top ten as the most exciting thing to do. It was like flying whilst not fearing the end of a spell.

Everything was bright colours and lights and noise, but this was different to the pathetic fair of the orphanage. There were rides and music and stalls and Angus had two people on his side for a change.

Magnus was waiting for them. Dressed up like Taako, as he had been for the past two Summer Faires. This time, it was the red robe version. Full arcanist uniform and the jacket worn like a cape over the robe.

The faire was full of pint-sized Birds; even a few adults. Many fell to the usual standards of witches, warlocks, undead and famous figures from plays or moving scrolls. There were plenty of obvious store-bought costumes. A few dedicated cosplayers, and nobody was looking at Angus like he was target of the day.

A host of kids all looked his way and said, “Whooooaaahhh…”

One jumped up and down, pointing. “Mama, mama, mama, I wanna look like that, next year! Mama, look!”

The mother, a very tired woman in an ineffective vampire costume, wasn’t looking. She sighed, “That’s nice dear,” and kept looking through the stall she was rummaging through.

“Five seconds and you’re already the belle of the ball,” said Kravitz. “Where first?”

“Food? Fun? Frivolity?”

Angus broke his usual silence. “I wanna corn dog anna toffee apple anna cotton candy and I wanna watch Magnus’ Dog Circus.”

“Way to go, kiddo,” cheered Taako. “It’s not a good Summer Faire until you’re biliously ill.”

“You mean like on the tilt-a-whirl?” said Magnus.

“Puh-leez. Your hairy armpits with my signature look? That’s a constitution saving throw right there.”

Magnus laughed uproariously. “Yeah, you got a point. Hey, Ango, you remember Mitzi?”

Angus nodded.

“I need someone to be her hoop. Want me to call on you for the show?”

He didn’t need to think about that. Being part of a circus? That would make this the best day ever.

The names on the door read as follows: Magnus Burnsides, Taako from TV, Merle Highchurch, and Angus McDonald.

Tres Horny Boys read the last name out in unison, with varying degrees of disgust and alarm.

Taako’s pack said, “Sorry, sir. I’m in your pocket spa. If you could take it out for a second, please?”

Taako took it out and shook it enough to dislodge one small detective, who landed on his feet because he was just naturally fucking gifted, the little shit. “Nice try, kiddo, but - what the fuck…?”

“This is the most dangerous mission we’ve ever been on, Ango, what were you thinking?”

Angus looked at the ground. “I thought that if I was undetectable, I’d be able to watch and help. The Felicity WIlds are kind’a famous for negating… um… stones of farspeech? I didn’t wanna worry about you the whole time, so…” He sighed. “I’ll just go back to the base.”

As he turned to walk away, the door closed and a disembodied voice said, “All entrants must go through the portal before the games can begin…”

A different voice said, “You’ve come this far. You’re so close to winning the ultimate grand prize.”

“Aw shee-it,” grumbled Merle.

“Fuuuck,” sighed Taako.

“Aw beans,” tutted Magnus. “Awright. You’re with us, apparently. This is not gonna be pretty.”

“You might not live through this,” said Taako. He looked uncharacteristically concerned about that part.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” argued Angus. “For the record, I’m very sorry about this.”

*

He’d gambled away some of his dexterity, paid his first magnifying glass on the wheel of sacrifice. Insisted that game theory told them to always pick forsake. He had rolled Bad Luck and nearly beefed it.

And now a lich was on their side, against two other liches that were using the animus bell to feed themselves misery. Making the black smoke of sorrow into things to counter the things that the other liches summoned to battle the team.

Magnus wasn’t Magnus any more. Taako had flat-out collapsed, and all Angus had on his side was some entry-level cantrips. Well. Entry-level cantrips and the lessons he’d learned from Taako about how to press every single advantage.

He had refused to alter his intellect, no matter what. He could use that, and the few things he knew that liches were vulnerable to.

Radiant damage. The work of holy people. Clerics. Divine warlocks. Angus had multiclassed to become a sleuth, but religion was not one of those classes. Maybe. Maybe he’d gambled something else and paid the memory of doing that.

Then he remembered the first rule of Clerics: have faith.

Angus took a breath and murmured a prayer to any gods that might still be listening.

The gods weren’t there, but the residual threads of faith powered his plea to the divine.

He cast Sacred Flame on the two liches who ran wonderland, avoiding the one in the tattered red robe who was helping them. The screaming was intense, especially Magnus who screamed with two voices.

One of the mannequins was moving like Magnus, fighting the screaming lich in his body. Taako rose from his sprawl on the floor, just enough to fire spells from his Umbrastaff.

Merle did whatever he could with the little juice he had left to defeat Wonderlands’ liches.

A piece of debris from the black-matter shot towards him.

For the first time in his life, he failed a dex saving throw.

*

“I cast… Spare the Dying on Angus,” said Mr Highchurch.

“For the last time, you don’t need to say that out loud,” argued Taako. He laid a gentle hand on Angus’ chest as the kid struggled to get up. “Don’t move just yet, little man. You only got one hit point. I don’t wanna lose anyone else today.”

Wonderland was dissolving all around him. All around them. He could see Mr Highchurch, and Taako, and the mannequin form of Mr Burnsides. “Everyone’s here,” he complained.

“Um,” said Taako. “You remember that nice man you saw me with last week? Uh. He… works… in the Astral Plane…”

“You’re dating the grim reaper?” yawped Mr Burnsides.

Taako sighed, holding back tears. “Not any more. Something… I dunno. You saw it, Mango, right? Krav’s just…” He sniffed. Wiped his face. “Grab the fuckin’ bell. We got another fight ahead.”

He helped Angus up, and his grip was a little tighter than it normally would be. “Sir? Are you gonna be okay?”

“No,” said Taako. “I just watched the love of my life get eaten by tar. If we live through this? I’ll mourn later. M’kay? Gotta focus on what needs to be done.”

In retrospect, Angus figured that he might have been better off just worried about the Reclaimers.

[Continuation in my inbox: “Bed ridden sick but not life threatening. Taako is freaking out though]

Taako avoided the fish without thinking. His heightened Elven senses told him that something was suspicious about that fish. Magnus and Merle each had their reasons to avoid the fish.

Angus didn’t. He was ten. He didn’t know any better. He just thought that it was supposed to be like that and tried it for the sake of trying something new. He’d never had that kind of fish before, and didn’t know how it should smell or what it should taste like or how it should be properly cooked.

He didn’t get sick for a few hours. Food poisoning is a slow and steady infliction. Thus, the connect between the underdone, over-spoiled fish was hard to deduce. Angus didn’t even start feeling sick until after a few fellow employees asked him if he was feeling well.

“Here,” Taako handed him one of his ‘morning after’ mints. “These always help me feel better.”

Angus didn’t make it all the way through a polite, “Thank you sir,” before the fish got their revenge. His guts felt like they were on fire and stabbed and tying themselves into knots.

The fish tasted even worse on the way up.

Taako screamed.

The next thing Angus knew, he was in the Bureau hospital, feeling like he’d been beaten against a rock, wrung out, and hung up to dry. He was shivering and under a fantasy heat blanket.

“It can’t be the mint, right?” said Taako, somewhere outside Angus’ personal aura of pain. “He barely had it in his mouth and everything came up.”

“Sir,” sighed one of the base Clerics as if they were done with explaining this like three conversations ago. “This is due to something he ate earlier. As food poisoning cases go, this one is pretty severe, but–”

“POISON?! He was poisoned? Who the fuck would poison a literal baby?”

Angus tried to say that he was ten and therefore not a baby, but all that emanated from his mouth was an inchoate mumble.

“Do your fucking job,” Taako demanded, his voice harsher and shriller than normal. “He’s still sick…”

“Yes,” sighed the Cleric. “He needs rest, now. Try not to make any further loud noises.”

Angus could hear Taako attempting to steady his breathing. “He’s gonna be okay, right? He’s not gonna die or anything?”

“He’s just going to be sick for a little while. He just needs rest. That’s all.”

Cleric footfalls retreated. There was no sound from Taako’s signature heels. As Angus remained under the thrall of semi-consciousness, he felt an adult’s hand take his.

Warm. There were rings on the fingers and the faint impression of lacquered nails. As the minutes passed, another hand attempted to take Angus’ pulse.

Angus tried to say, “I’m okay, sir,” but again, there was nothing that came out that could be called a word.

“Horseshit,” said Taako. “You were doing constitution saving throws there, kiddo. That’s scary beans.”

Angus tried to say, “I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t be helped. Those were bad fish. Couldn’t you tell?”

Angus sank into a dreamless sleep. When he next rose up, he could open his eyes and Taako was apparently still there. “…’ve I missed magic day?” he croaked.

“Probably,” said Taako, stretching in his chair. He hadn’t redone his braids in two days, it looked like. He was still wearing the same clothes from the staff meeting when he got sick. He could plausibly clean his clothes with Prestidigitation, but the other signs of just staying there and barely moving were evident. “You can do some make-up shit later on. First, though, you need to learn some shit, nerd boy.”

Angus didn’t say a single thing about how he knew Taako had been right by his side the entire time. “What sort of stuff, sir?”

“How to tell good food from bad food. Seriously. This is basic survival check shit. If it smells rotten, it probably is. And then you don’t eat it. M’kay?”

“I didn’t know it was rotten, sir. I thought it was supposed to be like that.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “All right. Looks like we’re gonna have to start from super noob level. Train that ineffective humanman snootsniffer you got there.” Prestidigitation made the illusion of a fish and a delicious cooked fish smell. Both hovering under Angus’ nose. “Good or bad?”

His stomach still shivered, but he said, “Smells real good, sir.”

“Excellent. A plus.” The scent changed to something really pungently disgusting. “Good or bad.”

“Real bad,” Angus croaked. He covered his mouth lest anything else come up.

“Okay, now we got ourselves a baseline,” said Taako, dismissing the smell for something familiar. The cafeteria fish. “Good or bad?”

“Now that I know what good fish smells like, sir? And also because I think this is what made me sick? I know it’s bad, sir.”

“Gotta make sure.” Taako never said why. He never said why he stayed right there in Angus’ hospital room until he was absolutely certain that Angus was on the mend.

Angus knew better than to ask. He just appreciated it while it lasted.