Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 7 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
In this episode: The origin of bb Magnus.
[AN: *stimming, not stinking. Three Bronx Cheers for autocorrect]
Angus McDonald, fresh adoptee of the Fangbattles, skipped into his new class as if he was walking on air. When he walked out, it was under a metaphorical raincloud and the hunch-shouldered attitude of someone who would much rather be condemned to death than go back into that one room again.
Of course the twins noticed in a cold second, homing in on easy tells like a sudden stillness and quiet in a formerly exuberant boy. Gone was the happy, infodumping chatterbox and in his place was a sullen doppelganger. A ghost that the family had thought they banished with love and encouragement.
Koko and Lulu took him in between them and made an Angus Sandwich with each twin as half of the ‘bun’. They tried purring for him. They tried gently twining the curls of his hair. They tried Being With him. They even tried getting him to blow on dandelion puffs or thistle seeds.
It was no use. Angus had become a block.
It was worse than when he’d been a ward of the orphanage. He’d retreated into himself, there, too… but they expected a modicum of interaction. This time, he’d shut off from even the safest and friendliest interactions.
Koko, the more sensitive of the twins, had tears spilling from his eyes. Fat, thick, plentiful ones that wouldn’t stop. Lulu twirled a lock of her hair and recited the silly name rhyme that used to make him giggle.
“Ango McDango dance the fandango, eat up a mango and tango with me…” she singsonged. “Your coat we can hango up over the frango, this song we have sango for you and for we…”
Not even the vaguest twitch of a smile. This was bad.
They pulled their coats up over their heads and made a sort of coat tent that shut out a lot of light and petted his hands and whispered validation into his tiny, cute, round humanman ears.
“We love you,” and, “It’s going to be okay,” and, “We want to help,” and, when it all got too frightening, “Please come back to us?”
Angus didn’t pet their hands, or say, “I’m okay,” even when he wasn’t. He just sat there and breathed and stared at nothing. Occasionally, he would blink, but he otherwise showed no further signs of coming back out.
Not even 'painting’ his skin with the tips of their braids would lure him back into the world.
Someone tapped Koko on his shoulder. He emerged from their tent and so did Lulu. They were both in tears and beside themselves with worry. It was Miss Mak'arune. Thee nicest, friendliest teacher in the entire world.
“Did you miss the bell? It’s time to go into class.”
Angus moved. He picked up his hands from his knees and interlaced his fingers and squeezed his hands together so hard that the skin went white.
Koko put it together in two seconds. “Did you tell our Angus to have Quiet Hands?”
Lulu had her hands over her mouth. It was like finding out that the Erastide Hare ate unwary children instead of hiding colourful eggs for the spring festival. Or that Father Candles stole the toys of poor children to gift them to the rich. It just could not be possible. “You didn’t,” Lulu felt like bursting into tears and running all the way home. “Please tell me you didn’t. I thought you were nice…”
Miss Mak'arune crouched down so she was on their eye-line. “It’s policy. Noisy hands distract the other students and we have to keep everything in line so everyone can learn. It’s a simple process and it doesn’t hurt…”
Koko was on his feet in instants. “WHY DON'CHA CUT OUT HIS TONGUE 'CAUSE HE TALKS TOO MUCH?” he screamed. “IT’S THE SAME THING!” Then he scooped up Ango into his arms and ran and ran and ran. He knew Lulu would be close behind. That was the way the world worked.
They only got a mile away from the school gate before their legs flagged and the stress of everything overwhelmed them. Lulu found a pocket in the briars where they could hide and at least plot their next move or, like Koko did, just kind of fold up and cry about everything bad that had just happened.
Lulu tried to plot their next move with Koko going to pieces and Angus just… not present. They clearly couldn’t go back to school. Not with a Quiet Hands policy. They couldn’t go home. Principal Davenport would have called their Moms by now. Which meant that they couldn’t go home.
Koko cried himself out and sighed. “Well, it was a nice home while it lasted,” he said. He must have reached the same conclusion far, far sooner than Lulu had. He always went with the worst alternative first, as it saved time. “Where next? Phandalin? Halverdale? North Haverbrook?”
“Home would be nice,” said Mama Carey. Of course she’d found them. She was a Rogue, and knew every trick. Including, as evident, how to sneak up on all of them and listen in to what there was of the conversation. “But I get you’re upset. I’m listening if you wanna talk.”
Angus was still a block, and the twins babbled out everything they knew. It was just as bad as the first days, Mama. Remember when he shut down? Like a whole week and he was just… he was block Angus. Not doing nothing, you remember? It’s happening again 'cause of how they made him do Quiet Hands. It’s evil, Mama. That school is straight up evil.
Lightning briefly crackled behind her teeth. Mama Carey took ten deep breaths and walked off to make a few Stone calls.
“Mama’s here,” Lulu tried. “She’ll keep you safe like last time. Remember? Mama and Mom kept you outta the bad place.”
Angus’ eyes moved, very briefly. He was hiding deep inside, and that was his first peek back into the outside.
Mama came back. She said, “Okay. We’re all meeting up with the Principal, Miss Mak'arune, and Mom, back at the school. We’re going to sort this out for the good of all. I won’t let you get hurt again, okay?”
*
Angus rocked gently in his seat. Lulu and Koko were on either side of him and Mom and Mama were on either side of them, helping him feel safe. He still clutched at his elbows when Miss Mak'arune entered the room and whimpered a little. The twins closed up around him and Koko growled a little.
Principal Davenport sat on a desk and tented his fingers. “Let’s talk,” he said. “I understand that young Mr McDonald has had a significant upset in regards to… quiet hands…”
“It’s despicable,” said Mom Killian. “It’s teaching autistic kids that they can’t express themselves. It’s the worst of oppression.”
“We’re gonna need a week of Intensive Interaction just to get him back to normal,” said Mama.
“Intensive…?” Miss Mak'arune echoed. “I’ve never heard of anything else other than ABA… it came highly recommended in all the papers…”
“Yeah, highly recommended by all those who hate autistic kids,” said Lulu. “It’s people who believe that kids like Angus are burdens who think that that sort of stuff is actually good.”
“Look what it did to him,” said Koko. “He’s blocking the world. He’s scared to say or do anything with anyone or anything.”
“They used to do something similar when he was in the orphanage,” said Mama. “It was horrible. Horrible.”
Miss Mak'arune had gone red. Her eyes were overflowing. “Ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness,” she whimpered. “I had no idea, I’m so sorry. Angus, sweetie, I never meant any harm… I swear. I thought I was doing good. I know I was wrong. Sir. We have to learn better ways. Now.”
Principal Davenport was a man of few words. He listened to all of this with tented fingers and an intense expression. He finally said, “I agree. Let’s listen to the people who know the most about this issue. All of them.”
*
It took a month. One week for Angus to come back into being himself. Three weeks for the moms to gather some experts, books, and evidence, and create a special presentation for the teaching staff at Miller’s.
Angus was a willing participant in some of the Interaction methods. Education about what Stimming was, and meant, and how it was a means of expression for some. How to read an Autistic kid, when they didn’t always show the best of emotions or show them consistently with neurotypical means of reading.
The most important lesson, the best lesson, was that an Autistic kid didn’t have to be a burden, if one was willing to take a journey into their world.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 4]
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[AN: That you did. I am a dummins]
It was a beautiful town. High-class folk. Lots of beautiful things. Lots of nicely portable, small, shiny, valuable things on display for any light-fingered person happening by to help themselves.
Which was what Lulu and Koko had just been caught doing by the City Watch.
“We were just lookin’,” Lulu lied. “We’re gonna put ‘em right back.”
One of them slit open her poke. More glittering tchotchkes spilled to the cobbled streets.
“Oh my gods,” Koko attempted. “Sir, we’ve been selected as some vile footpad’s patsy! We had no idea those things were in there…”
“My babies! Oh, my babies!” A glittering, glimmering vision descended on them from a set of stairs like a cloud of glamour wrapped in feathers, rich velvet, and gleaming gold. She sailed over like a conquering galleon. She had pearls at her throat and what appeared to be diamonds in her hair.
The twins almost didn’t recognise her as shy, mousy, softly-spoken Mak’arune.
“Oh you found my poor innocent babies,” she cooed, sweeping the twins into her arms and kissing them both heartily. “Have they hurt you, my darlings?” she wheeled on the guard with the knife. “How dare you accost my babies and damage their property! Do you have any idea who I am?”
Her arrogance sold it, the guards immediately bowed and scraped, tugging at their forelocks. “No, m’m. Our apologies, m’m.”
“Your Grace,” she hissed. “I demand immediate recompence at once for your astonishingly ignorant behaviour. My babies are clearly distraught at this grievous insult.”
Lulu and Koko took the hint and burst into crocodile tears, with cries of ‘Mommy!” and accusations of gross violence.
In less than five minutes, the guards were falling over themselves to press the purloined pieces on her and the twins, and hustling them towards a fine clothier so the twins could be outfitted appropriately, “So the same mistake can’t happen again, your Grace.”
Koko had a panic attack in the changing room, cushioned against Mak’arune’s bosom and listening to her soft, parental purring. “That was so close,” he kept saying. “We nearly lost our ears. Lost our hands. Lost our lives…”
“Close only counts in Horseshoes and fireballs,” Mak’arune soothed. “Just breathe, now. We’re safe. Safe and sound.”
Lulu was still shocked and awed. “That’s the most phenomenal scam I have ever seen. What the fuck, Mak?” She smirked, “Or should I call you ‘your Grace’?”
“Mommy works,” she smiled. Luume’irma had been milder to her, but she still counted the twins as her babies. “Mommy works very well indeed.”
All the same, they didn’t even try shoplifting for the rest of their time in that town.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]
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Reader Request #96
Aliens vs Dragons – @jazzmaster009
“One small step for an Elf… one… giant leap for Elven kind.”
“Taako, do you have to do this every single time you put first foot on another world?”
“It’s luck, homie. Every time I say those words, my sister and I don’t beef it that year.”
“Oh, so you’re fine, the rest of us can go hang.”
“Dude, as long as one of us is alive to fly the Starblaster, we’re all fine.”
“Just leave him alone, Magnus-dear. My poor dumb baby brother does like his superstitions.”
Lyyrn peeked out from the shrubbery in which she was hiding. So far, these invaders weren’t doing anything worse than arguing with each other. But that didn’t make them any less strange and frightening.
They were peculiar things. Bigger than her; but everyone said she was still a baby. They walked on two legs like a trained bear, and only two among the seven were alike. There was the big hairy one, the small really hairy one, the small not-so-hairy one with the flame-red tuft of hair. There was the really dark one with the really pale hair, the really pale one with the sort-of dark hair… and then those two.
They all had really weird skin that flapped around them as they moved. Red and shiny with gold. The two almost-identical ones had long hair that flowed out and over the red, but some of it was under a different container of some sort. A big red cone on top of their heads.
They all had funny black feet. Really weird black legs, too. Lyyrn was fascinated by the way they walked around without once needing to drop to all fours. But then, they didn’t have tails like Lyyrn’s tail.
“I am liking this planet,” said the one they called Taako. He was reaching up and plucking fruit off the trees. Sniffing their flesh. “Nice landing area, plenty of forage…”
“No light,” said one of the small ones. Lyyrn had to wonder if they were like babies. They were smaller even than her baby sister, and she was tiny.
“Oh sure, sure. Rain on my fuckin’ parade. Make the best of what’s there, I always say.”
“Is that a Taako Original?” teased the one who looked just like Taako.
“Eheheheheh,” mocked Taako. “You’re so funny.”
Then the big hairy one parted the bushes where Lyyrn had been hiding. His weird, flat face split open to show even weirder teeth. “Guys,” he whispered, “I found a dragon…”
“We are not taking it with us,” said the little one with the red tufts. That one sounded so much like a Mama that Lyyrn really wondered what was up with these alien creatures.
She froze, resorting to baby instinct and not even thinking about her elemental breath.
“Aaw, did I scare da poor widdle ting,” cooed the big hairy one. “Iss okay… iss okay.” It put its paw by her nose, and a very odd smell invaded her nostrils. Not like anyone or anything she knew. That paw ran gently over her scales as he cooed, “There, there, there… I won’t hurt you.” And let her sniff again. Its scent and her scent mingled.
That was a trick for animals. “I’m not an animal,” she said. “Lea’me alone or Mama’s gonna get you.”
“Oh tits,” said Taako.
“Fucking run!” yelled the copy.
Mama came to the rescue, swooping down and making all the aliens rush for their silver… thing. A thing that lifted off from the ground and sailed to a safe distance in precisely the way that clouds didn’t.
Mama scooped her up and flew her back to the nest and spent most of the evening watching the night sky for silver things.
Three days later, the silver thing hovered like a cloud. Right where Lyyrn and Mama could see it. It was not doing anything at all. Just… staying there. Carefully out of breath range.
If Lyyrn squinted, she could see the small really hairy one being held up on the front of the silver thing by the big hairy one.
Mama made Lyyrn stay in the nest as she did a fly-by. There were words. The aliens talked low and soft and so did Mama. No matter how much Lyyrn leaned on the edge of the nest, she couldn’t make out what was said.
Mama came up to the nest, and the silver thing followed. Lyyrn hunkered back down in the nest, watching as they both flew closer. She feared the thing, but Mama trusted it enough to let it come close. Mama knew what was safe. Lyyrn had to trust Mama.
The strangers were… weird… but they were okay. They were friendly aliens. The big, hairy one - Magnus - apologised for trying animal tricks on her. They told all kinds of wonderful stories, and even though they were odd, they were nice.
It took Lyyrn all of two hours to forget about being afraid of them.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 6]
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Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 3 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
In this episode: the aftermath of the luume’irma episode from a previous anthology.
Concept: a tabletop roleplaying campaign where all of the party members are drawn a tribe of Lawful Good kobolds serving a gold dragon. A very, very patient gold dragon.
Potential PC concepts include:
- A paladin of Bahamut with an incredible Olde English accent (affected, of course - they think that’s how paladins talk, and no-one has been able to persuade them otherwise)
- A dragonsoul sorcerer with enthusiastically terrible aim, who mostly uses their high Charisma to apologise
- A rogue ostensibly seeking redemption for their extremely complicated Dark Past, the particulars of which never seem to be the same twice
- A bard who serves as the tribe’s lorekeeper, and plays the role with a great deal more confidence than their actual grasp of the historical record warrants
- A long-suffering fighter whose uncommon command of common sense is mitigated by their poor observational skills
More:
- Lawful Good or not, humans mistrust kobolds on principle, so certain measures have to be taken when your quests take you to human lands. Past efforts include three kobolds standing on each other’s shoulders with a hat of disguise (it generally ends poorly), and “I’m actually a very short dragonborn” (it works more often than you’d think).
- On the flip side, trying to “act natural” when confronted with other monstrous humanoids in order to take advantage of their automatic assumption that you’re on Team Evil. Unfortunately, Lawful Good kobolds have very little notion of how a Chaotic Evil person behaves; fortunately, most larger baddies don’t really pay attention to kobolds anyway.
- Pissing off other dragons by converting their kobold servants to Lawful Goodness.
(Late in the campaign, there’s a scenario where the party has to go undercover as ordinary minions, and the whole thing is basically them Clark Kenting their way through a series of potentially lethal misadventures, where the challenge is less surviving and more getting through it all without giving away the fact that you’ve got like 20 Strength and fifteen hit dice, or whatever.)
(via callmegallifreya)
It was easy to tell when Taako was stressing out about shit. He had morphing hair and zero control over it, so when it curled, he was freaked out. Its natural state was that of a slightly wooly wave, but here on the moon? He had ringlets on his good days.
Merle knew his botany, and giving an Elf the traditional de-stresser - extract of Dreamroot - would only make things worse. Elves needed a different source of mellow. Better yet, he had recently been reminded of what that was. On the way to Wave Echo cave, Taako had stopped to pluck a dandelion gone to seed.
He’d blown a good half or more of the seeds off and muttered, “Some for the wild,” and then tucked the rest, and some leaves, into a little pouch that also held a very small clay pipe in its folds. Their Elf wizard was also a ‘lion fiend.
No wonder he was stupid as fuck. He spent most of his life high as a kite on dandelions. Given how stressed out he was, Merle could see why.
There were no dandelions on the moon. Everything up on the Bureau base was carefully catered, meticulously planned, and rigidly controlled. There were no ‘lion fiends on the moon. Well. There hadn’t been until Taako had been forced to go cold turkey by the surrounds he was trapped in.
So he had taken a trip down to some vacant lots on the surface, and harvested some seeds before coming back up with some cover shopping.
A few little ceramic pots. A few measures of good, rich soil. A quiet place with sunshine that nobody could find… and there were dandelions on the moon. He carefully selected some of the beginning leaves and dried them according to the proper specifications, bundling them up in a little envelope of waxed paper.
The next meeting Taako attended, Merle slipped him the envelope. “From the department of Don’t Tell the Director.”
He peeked. “Aaaww… yiss…”
*
Angus McDonald, fresh new Seeker for the Bureau of balance, had crept out after the Wizard Reclaimer known as Taako. He was an enigma. A self-proclaimed idiot wizard who somehow managed to have a ‘moment of clarity’ that solved the entire case.
He was pretty sharp, actually. Angus suspected that Taako might be playing the fool at expert levels.
Taako’s braids were tight and stiff, standing out against his skull and looking almost ready to snap. He busied himself with something small that easily fit in the cup of his hand. There was a sparkle of Prestidigitation and a hint of small flame. Taako inhaled deeply, held that breath, and the golden braids fell loose and lax. Still perfect, because Elves never had a hair out of place, but far less curly than it usually was.
A plume of smoke smelling vaguely like burning leaf litter, and Taako was leaning, far more relaxed, against the corner he had once only had his shoulder propped against. He fought outright collapse and mumbled, “Dayumn, Merle… That’s some shit…”
Angus knew what this was. “You smoke ‘lion, sir?”
Taako looked. “Aw shit.” A sigh. A different curse. “Yeah. I got like… hypertension or some shit. I take it to chill out. Keeps me off’a the panic attacks.”
“I’d heard dandelion had some medicinal use for Elves, sir. But… how is it possible to take more of a hit than you intended?”
“How’d you…? Wait. World’s greatest detective. Yeah.” He pondered the smouldering remnants in the pipe and snuffed it. “Thing is… thing is… thing… thing… Thing is… Merle… has to fuck. With everything.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Especially plants. It gets gross. Real gross.”
Angus connected the dots despite Taako’s evident inebriation. “Mr Highchurch has been breeding stronger dandelions.”
“Kind’a lucky he wasn’t breeding with them,” mumbled Taako. “Every fuckin’ time he slides me a new supply, it’s…” He wavered. Drooped. Shook himself back to consciousness. “Way stronger. Way, way, way, way stronger.”
Angus helped him sit down before he fell down. “Sir, if you know it’s stronger, why don’t you cut back on your dosage?”
Taako attempted to focus and rolled ones five times in a row. “Kid,” he said. “I’m awready doin’ that.”
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]
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[AN: This happens before the toothbrush incident]
“So-o-o-o… you got a type or what?”
They were on stake-out, with little to talk about any more, so of course the conversation turned to matters of the heart. Avi was very happy with Johaan and wanted to see that kind of happiness spreading around.
“Stop trying to set me up, Burnsides…” Sno peeked through the binoculars. No movement from the guy they were staking out. He was having a quiet night in. Apparently.
“Hey, if anyone deserves some happiness with a special someone, it’s you, buddy.” He added a mock punch. “You’ve been through more than your fair share of shit. You deserve happiness. You deserve love.”
“I can find it on my own. Thanks.”
“At least tell me about your dream date.”
Sno could see him every time she blinked. “Tall. Dark. Nerdy. He’s got this weird laugh and a sorta… skewiff smile. Kind’a awkward, but… honest awkward. The nice guy that doesn’t advertise, you know?”
“Thirty guys at the precinct just lost a bet that you’re a lesbian,” said Avi. “Nerdy types, huh?”
“Yeah. I like me a man with an astonishing grasp of Klingon.”
Avi laughed at that, and the discussion devolved into some areas of nerditry that Avi - a born Jock - was familiar with. But that was the moment that lead, inexorably, inevitably, to one of the most excruciating evenings of Snocoun Ton’s life.
Avi had set her up with a nerd from Miller Labs, a favour he had managed to wrangle after solving some case involving volatile chemicals, smugglers, and a rare species of parrot. Sno had gone along because she thought her partner had somehow found out about a completely different nerd who also worked for Miller Labs.
For a fleeting moment, Sno daydreamed about not having to come clean because the other man in her life had already figured things out for her.
Then Mukaara bowed Lucas fucking Miller into the restaurant seat opposite her and took a seat at a group table with a bunch of other executive assistants. He made sure he had a good view, the rat bastard.
“Wow,” said Sno, glaring at Avi. He was gurning and making positive hand signals through the window like the over-eager puppy he had to have been reincarnated from. “When he said he had someone high up in Miller Labs, I didn’t expect anyone this high up.”
Mukaara, over at the assistants’ table, was watching her over his menu with a devilish gleam in his sky-blue eyes.
“I… thought I’d be getting someone a little further down the totem pole. Like an assistant…”
Lucas Miller spat a little as he talked. “Yes, well. I understand your shock and awe. It’s rare that I meet a lady who’s of the right calibre to date someone like me. I mean. You can’t get much higher in the Miller Labs internal structure without going to my Mom and -haha- that’s my job. Haha.”
“Haha,” echoed Sno, deadpan.
In the window behind Miller, Avi was using his fingers as antennae and attempting a Vulcan salute. He rolled ones for his skill check on the latter. He blatantly mouthed, Talk nerdy nerd stuff.
“But seriously,” said Miller, “I’m a nice guy and -to be humble- one of the top ten geniuses of our time. I’m more than a little particular about the kind of girl that gets my attention.”
Oh shit. Red flag. Abort! Abort! Sno looked to the window for Avi, and only saw the tail end of his scarf as one of the restaurant staff shooed him away from the exterior. Mukaara was talking to a waiter and couldn’t get any of her covert signals.
And worse, she’d paid in advance for the table. She’d better eat here or the deposit would have been spent for nothing.
“What kind of girl might that be?” she cooed, playing nice. Maybe if she played all her cards wrong, she could escape this travesty and never have to contact Miller again.
Miller started waxing lyrical about the women he’d had crushes on since childhood. All of them, Sno noted, owed their existence to cell animation. The few she recognised were all the same type - big-busted, addle-brained, cutesey-wutesy doormats.
Gods, please get me out of here…
*
To think, Mukaara pondered, he had been worried that Sno might start falling for his boss. He should never have been so concerned.
Lucas Miller had a type, and it was generally found printed on a cover for a body pillow. Despite that, he expected any flesh and blood woman to pass a trivia test in order to qualify for his attention.
So far, Sno was passing. When she was allowed to get a word in edgewise.
Mukaara watched the disaster unfold. Lucas had already completely failed to notice Sno’s severe lack of interest in him since three seconds in. Sno’s face was a rictus when she wasn’t desperately mouthing, Help me! in Mukaara’s direction.
Entrees had been survived. The main course arrived with -oh gods- Lucas’ opinion on Elves.
“It’s all well and good saying that terrible things happened in living memory,” he was lecturing, “but Elves live for a million years or more. You guys should take a joke or two.”
“Seven hundred and fifty,” corrected Sno. “Eight hundred if they manage clean living.”
Lucas didn’t appear to hear her. “So what if the Xenophobia wars were in living memory? That could mean a thousand years ago! They ended four hundred years ago.”
“They ended forty years ago,” corrected Sno. “They started four hundred years ago.”
“They need to let it go.”
“Millions died. Elf kind were almost wiped out.”
“Yes, yes, yes… But it happened so long ago. The damage is repaired. The population is back to normal. Almost beyond normal. There’s no more need to keep crying about it.”
Mukaara flinched. Nope. She wasn’t going to hit him, but it was a close thing.
“Trouble?” said Rinnu.
“Almost. If he keeps talking about the Xenowars, there’s going to be.”
“Yeah?”
“Her mother was one of the last casualties of the Xenowars…”
Winces, hisses, and whistling backwards. Something expensive was doomed to happen.
“What about your opinion on Steampunk?” said Sno rather desperately. A safe way to move things to something Lucas loved to do - deliver his opinion.
Sno’s expression ranged from relief through boredom, to being ten thousand percent done with everything that came out of Lucas’ mouth.
On the plus side, that particular classification would not include -say- his teeth.
On the minus side… poor Sno was suffering for a fancy dinner.
He’d have to make it up for her at a later date. Perhaps a marathon session of bad food and worse television and a good, solid session of Mock That Movie.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 6]
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If there was any day that would be the worst one for a surprise inspection visit by the Fantasy CPS, it would have to be the day that Taako was sliding inexorably towards a full-on Luume rampage.
He was currently cooking everything in the kitchen whilst Angus, Agatha, and Carey flipped rapidly through reference material, desperately searching for something that would prevent Taako bonding with all the babies in the house. Carey and Killian liked Taako just fine, but not as a co-parent to their own daughter.
Both Orc and Dragonborn had rougher hides, and couldn’t finesse an Elf’s ‘off switch’ like an Elf or a Humanman could. The only other option was one of the children, and by the time he got near one, he would want to grab the other.
“Here it is,” Carey found the passage. “Co-parenting of a child by a more authoritative figure can prevent a parental bond forming in an Elf suffering luume’irma. This is it. One of us goes with and does most of the parenting stuff instead of letting Taako do it all.”
“Or I could just hide,” suggested Agatha.
“No, hon. He’d scent you out,” said Killian. “We’ve seen this sort of thing before. Unless Kravitz turns up to really distract Taako–”
“Gross,” said the kids.
“Yeah, we figured that wouldn’t be an option,” said Killian. “And I don’t wanna disinfect my kitchen again.”
“Babies eat,” singsonged Taako, bearing an overloaded platter of nutritious and delicious treats.
Someone knocked as they barged in. “Fantasy CPS inspection.”
Sniff? Snort. SNARL!
“Oh shit,” said Angus.
Taako quickly put the tray down and leaped over the couch to scoop up the kids, growling at the representative from the Fantasy CPS, and one of the staffers from the very orphanage both kids had come from.
If there was anything that was a worse threat to those children, it would be the slightest hint that they were going back to that horrible orphanage.
Taako lifted one kid in each arm, hissed defiance at the representatives for their alleged welfare, and bounded off towards the backyard, where he had built a cote some years prior.
“Agatha, go limp,” Angus advised.
“Luume?” said the Fantasy CPS representative.
“Luume,” said Carey, lifting up the tray. “I gotta go make sure he doesn’t adopt our kid. Okay?”
They let her go off with a wave of their hand.
Killian, attempting to remain calm, made tea. “So,” she said. “How does your organisation feel about moments of bad timing?
Meanwhile, up in the cote…
Taako sniffed at the entrance. Food. Friend? Friend. Yes. Let friend in. Babies scared. Babies hungry. Babies in danger.
“Bad people near,” he said.
“Ye-e-es,” cooed Carey-friend. “Bad people are near. This is the safe place. This is a good place.” She handed Taako a cake, and gave one to Agatha. “You feed your baby, I feed mine. Okay?” She urgently whispered, “Don’t let him feed you. Always look to me for that ‘kay?”
Agatha nodded, taking the cake from her Dragonborn mother’s hands.
Taako knew he could groom both babies, that was good. He could sniff and worry and guard. That was… allowed. He could feed his baby and keep him arm and comfortable and that was very good. He could purr up a storm for the three of them. And if he saw even the slightest hint of the dangerous outsiders, he would occupy the entrance and threaten them until they went away.
That was excellent.
*
Agatha stayed glued to Mom’s lap or wrapped around her arm if a lap wasn’t available. The passages she read had said she had to make the belonging clear to a being whose mental capacity was diminished at best. Mom was cool with it, always keeping at least one limb wrapped around her.
The cote was comfortable, Agatha knew. She used it as a treehouse once or twice. The food was great - of course it was, Taako had made it. Much though she loved Mama Killian’s cooking, Taako was the best chef in one hundred worlds. He did actually make the best stuff. Even when Int and Wis were his current dump stats.
She got to chatter - quietly - with Angus about how their home lives were so much different now that they had a home. How worried they were about Fantasy CPS and the orphanage taking them back.
At that point, Taako wrapped himself around Angus and groomed him towards calm, purring as soothingly as he could. Mom Carey had her own Dragonborn purr, too, and rocked Agatha in her arms as she singsonged, “We burned the receipts, you can’t be returned, it’s going to be okay… Mom’s gotcha. Mo-om’s gotcha…”
Agatha held hands with Angus as the conversation turned to whispers. Finally, as the moon shone between the woven branches, Mama Killian strolled into their yard. “They’re gone. You’re all safe now.”
Taako sniffed the air, snorted, and murmured, “Danger…”
In the end, it was a sleepover and campout. Mama brought up pillows and blankets and some fairy lights, and snuggled with Mom while they both held Agatha safe between them.
Angus curled up safe in his Papa’s arm, with Taako purring in his ear.
It was a good night.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]
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…in another reality, a fragment of the one we know…
Growl… Taako rather insisted that Mrs McDonald remained upright.
“None of that nonsense,” said Mawlitt briskly, levering Mrs McDonald’s feet out from under her. Or at least, that’s what he tried to do. There was a blur and a snap, and a sharp sensation of pain in his left shoulder. And a blood-soaked Elven face in his.
“Need. Safe,” Taako growled.
“Sir…. sir… deep breaths, sir. Dr Mawlit is here to help.”
The growling continued like a burning fuse. The sort of growl that starts in the back of one throat and ends in someone else’s.
Mrs McDonald shrieked. “It’s… coming!”
Grrrrrrrrooooowwwwllllll…
“Sir, it’s okay. I won’t let the doctor hurt her.”
The baby was out before he could think of dressing his own wounds. Something Mr McDonald was there to help for. The important part was hale, hearty and crying.
“Baby eat,” was even more disturbing with the slow fuse of growl underneath it.
Mawlitt let that distract the Elf in the room and got out the forceps and special scissors. “Now to cut the cord…”
There were sharp, Elven teeth in his wrist this time, holding forceps and his hand away from the trailing cord. The growl intensified with flecks of foam. Mawlit was close enough to see murder in those suddenly-thin slits.
“Sir, no!” Mr McDonald put himself between Taako and Mawlitt.
“Ba– baby? Threat! Threat! Babies. Threatening babies!”
Mawlitt figured it out. No bladed instruments. Right. He moved his more imposing obstetrical arsenal well out of sight and hopefully out of mind.
“No threat,” he assured. “Help babies.” He bandaged his right wrist. “I’m using the clean hand, to help with the afterbirth. Okay. No hurt. No threat.”
Taako yielded grudgingly, growling the entire time and poised ready to strike if the slightest hint of trouble glimpsed his way.
Whoops. That’s a second baby… He got the kid oriented the right way with a gentle shove. “Ms McDonald,” he said, “You’re going to have a twin.”
Taako was suddenly happier about life in general. “Babies,” he preened. Then returned to growling slightly softer at Mawlitt.
“He is going to be intolerable,” she complained between pushes.
“He is never going to shut up about this,” agreed Mr McDonald
Twin number two entered Mrs McDonald’s arms and Mawlitt found himself pushed forcefully towards the exit by a pissed-off Luume-addled elf. Just as those sharp, sharp teeth drew closer to his neck, rescue came in the form of Kravitz Reeper. “Hello, Dove. Don’t bite the doctor.”
Agatha squirmed past squeaking, “Babies! Babies! Grampa was right! There’s twins!”
Mr McDonald stage-whispered, “We don’t need to encourage Grampa…”
Mawlitt would be grateful when civilisation reasserted itself. Fortunately, he was plenty distracted by the husband cleaning blood off of his face.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 8]
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