Tumbl Into TAZ - Chapter 80 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
There’s nothing like new math to make old mathematicians angry.
Angus had no idea how it happened, but he woke up in the middle of some scrubby forest with no idea where he was or how to get home. He was in a very comfy sleeping bag and Papa was lounging nearby.
“Morning, pumpkin,” he cooed. “It’s survival lesson time.”
He sat up. There was no sign of any other camping gear. “What?” he mumbled. “What’s going on?”
“Every child should learn how to make it if the worst happens. Honestly, with all the folderol with adoption, I was kind’a scared to start. Still am, tee bee haitch, but I can’t let any kid of mine wander this wild world without at least a few basics.”
Angus rubbed his eyes. “Really?”
“We survived a raid on my village and then a raid on the survivors’ caravan, sweetie. If we hadn’t had lessons like this, we would have died at age twelve. Lucky for you we didn’t. Someday, all this will be lucky for someone else.”
Well. Put it like that way. Papa knew for certain that life had ways of throwing mud at you at the worst possible time. Therefore, he paid attention. There were worse things in life than being in a shitty orphanage. “What’s lesson one, Papa?”
“Priorities,” was the answer. “Food, water, shelter. What do you look for first?”
It was a day of lessons. Those very priorities were in the order of water, shelter, then food. Followed by a near encyclopaedic knowledge of which wild foods were edible more than once. As the sun began to dip down in the sky, Papa showed him the Shelter part of the survival trinity. How to build a cote.
“If you can’t find an abandoned badger burrow or a cave, building a cote is your next best thing. These are temporary shelters, here, so you don’t wanna be too elaborate. Start with a tree where you can move some branches around. Make it tricky for any predators.”
It was weaving, in a way. Weaving the living branches into a sort of skeleton for any uprooted saplings or long reeds or tall grasses they managed to find. The real trick was thinning out the brush without picking an area clean. That sort of thing would lead the intelligent predators to realise that someone was nearby.
The best cote, of course, was one that was tricky to get into. If it was tricky for the Elf - or half-elf - who made it, then it would be even trickier for anyone out after them. The green brush used to make it would be near perfect camouflage in a dense enough tree, especially if it was high up in the canopy.
Papa helped him make a cote just big enough for two, and showed him how to make a door to seal it off. By that time, it was well past dark, and their use of magic added tiny lights to the interior.
For a structure made of bent branches, saplings, and grass, it was astonishingly comfortable. Angus slid into a meditative trance knowing that his Papa was watching over him.
Lesson two, the next morning, was learning how to find civilisation. That was how Angus learned that their impromptu camp site was an extensive vacant lot within half a days’ walk of the farmhouse.
Where Dad was waiting with a celebratory feast, Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry.
“No probs, dingus?” Aunt Lup shouted.
“Of course not, goofus,” Papa shouted back. “He’s a fucking genius.”
It had never occurred to Angus that Papa could have possibly been worried. Not until that moment. The concept was re-enforced when Aunt Lup gave Papa a noogie and said, “I told you he’d be fine.”
Dad had been worried, too. Angus could tell by the way Dad swept him up and covered him in kisses and said how proud he was. They’d both been worried about the absolute worst that could happen. Neither of them said so, but Angus could tell.
They’d be less worried, next time. With every lesson, there would be less and less to worry about.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 6]
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The whole gang was invited to the party. That meant snuggle-buddies were included, and some baby-mommas came too because -hey- free food. The new family seemed to just roll with it and rent a hall, throwing the doors open to anyone who was hungry.
Neosemo hadn’t been born yet, when the Story and Song flooded the world, but he’d seen enough penny plays. He knew enough to know that the Birds were formidable, loaded, and dangerous to rile.
The penny players always picked skinny actors to play the Twins, and put shining yellow wigs on with the red robes. Therefore, Neosemo didn’t expect the upholstered forms nor the bright colours they wore. Yet, they were unmistakable.
Hair like gold. Mismatched eyes of amber and green. A casual disregard for how many spell slots they had was a definite giveaway.
Neosemo was nervous about approaching them. They should have been in red robes. They should have been something more than everyone else. Yet, there they were. Laughing and joking and bustling about with trestle tables and foodstuffs. Taako from TV, who had faced down -and then married- the Grim Reaper had no business wearing a Kiss the Cook apron nor cracking what had to be a terribly filthy joke.
“…didn’t do that when I tried it,” was the punchline. Several people around the immediate area were turning red. One was laughing so hard that he was drooling.
Neosemo loaded up a plate with offerings that were already crowding the table, licking sauce off his fingers.
Taako - it had to be Taako. He was the one with the apron and the slightly duller hair than his sister. Taako turned and gasped. “Angus Taacoson McDonald… how dare you. You can’t even wait to make your own, you had to adopt?”
Neosemo stuffed his face before anyone could chuck him out.
“You’re the one throwing the family welcome party, Papa,” said Professor McDonald. “Also - you know how Uncle Irma can change a life.”
“More than one,” said Taako. “Teenaged grand-baby. I’m barely two hundred! I’m too young to be the grandfather of a teenager. I’m old before my time! Old before my time…” He struck a pose. Three poses. Languishing for want of an audience.
“You still don’t look a day over a hundred and sixty to me,” said a dark-hued man in dark-hued clothes with silver ornaments in his hair. That had to be Kravitz.
“Flirt,” chided Taako. He put down a dish of things that Neosemo wasn’t able to identify. “Okay. You’re new to the family, kiddo. This kind of thing is normal for us. C’mere. Come to Grampa Taako. Gods, I can’t believe I just said that…”
Neosemo shuffled nervously closer to one of the most powerful wizards in the twelve planes. He was aware that he had his mouth full, and sauce dribbling down his chin, and one hand full of plate, and the other filthy with sauce and food.
He fully expected this literal living legend to tear him down atom by atom. Which was why it was such a surprise to have Taako from TV sweep him up in his arms. “Welcome to the family, kiddo! You and your friends might just give me a challenge for a change.”
Professor McDonald had wet wipes. So did Taako. They both had spare utensils for Neosemo to use. They both introduced him to more family than he could remember, let alone think plausible.
The full-blood Orc who proclaimed herself to be his Aunty Killian, wrapped him up in a bone-crushing hug and told him that she could help him build up his muscles if he ever got tired of living like a wimpy, weedy Elf.
The human with the greying sideburns offered him a dog, and told him that he was Uncle Magnus.
Instant family. Just add Starblaster.
The doughy human with the horn rim spectacles and the perpetual blue jeans had to be the Barry Bluejeans of legend. He sort of sat beside Neosemo and said, “You don’t have to be what anyone else wants you to be. We can all help you in whatever you want, wherever you want to go. Education, work, a career somewhere… we got your back. Just… remember. You gotta be true to yourself or your dreams will never come true.”
He had heard people making plans for him before. People wanting to help him by getting his tusks removed. People wanting to help him by putting him into some institution designed to pump out perfect, cookie-cutter kids. People wanting to help him be what he wasn’t.
These people were just giving him offers. If you want to… not We want you to… Just one of the many differences that made the Starblaster family what it was. And better - they were just as welcoming to Neosemo’s street family. Letting them know that there were plenty of rooms in the farmhouse, if they wanted to help out, they could live there.
Angus caught up with him as the party was winding down to people lounging around with drinks in hand. “You look like you’re thinking some deep thoughts, there.”
“Old Maisy used to look after a bunch of kids when I was little. She was always coming up with these weird old sayings,” he said. “She said, home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”
“Interesting choice of wise words,” allowed Angus.
“I was just thinking… Home is where they welcome you in, whether they have to or not.” He looked out over the motley crew, where Tuff Jari was learning how to ride a deer under the guidance of two Elves and a guy who looked like he’d never exercised in his life. “This feels like it’s gonna be a great home.”
[TAZ prompts remaining: 8]
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By the third home visit, Angus felt a little more confident about Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz meaning the things they said. Especially when it came to choosing his clothes. Their first shopping trip had arranged one ensemble and one set of pyjamas, that were still there and waiting for him by the second home visit. Further, Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz let him pick out another outfit to wear if he wanted one.
Which was still there today, for his first week with his potential parents. This time, the destination was not Fantasy Costco, but a rather more extensive clothing establishment with every possible fashion choice for every possible size from Kobold to Gargantuan.
“Seven days, seven outfits,” said Mr Taako. “Anything you like, and they’re guaranteed to have it in your size. Anything you want, pumpkin. Anything.”
Mr Kravitz folded the handle of a pull-along basket into Angus’ hand. “You can mix and match if you like. There’s no such thing as a bad choice.”
They had never uttered the phrase, “Are you sure?” when he was picking out stuff before. They asked, “You like that one?” and accepted his answer.
Angus avoided the racks containing over fifty shades of grey. He had had enough of grey in the orphanage. The bright colours dazzled his eye a little too strongly and he didn’t want to wear all black like Mr Kravitz did. Therefore, the improbable alternative was pastels. As he approached the display, the default human mannequin shifted to become a mannequin Angus, replete with matching skin tone, showing off the best-selling ensembles including dresses and skirts.
Angus blushed. The orphanage had Views about clothing non-options according to gender.
Mr Taako leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Anything you want. No judgements here.” As if to prove his point, he reached out and grabbed a flowy, flower-patterned dress with frilly overhangs and draped it against his own body. “This would look sweet for the summer heatwave…” Then he draped it against Mr Kravitz. “Oh yeah, babe.”
Mr Kravitz smiled warmly and said, “Dove… this is for Angus, not for us.”
“Who says we can’t all have some fun?” scoffed Mr Taako. “Let’s enable our little lad. Come on.”
Angus still feared the watchful eye and the sharp tongues of the nurses and the staff of the orphanage. As if they were following his every move once he was past the severe iron bars of the institute’s fences. Thus, he edged carefully closer to the racks of pastel blue. Still a boy colour, even if it was a baby boy colour.
No lightning, jeers, nor vengeful figures of wrath descended on him from above, behind, or anywhere. He picked up a pair of pastel short pants, and the display showed him a myriad of garments that could go with.
He put it back before Mr Taako could ask the question. He didn’t like it. He picked it because he was supposed to. The next garment almost leaped into his hand. A pair of culottes. Pleated and swishy and with a nice, smooth feel under his hands. They looked real nice on the Angus mannequin, too.
Realisation dawned that he didn’t have to pick blue, either. He replaced it with a pastel teal coloured one, then a green one, then a powder orange.
“Like that one?” said Mr Kravitz. He was wearing a pale blue, floor-length gown, now.
Angus found the courage to speak. “…’essir.” Just… not very loud.
Mr Taako had found a fountain of frills in a rainbow of colours and was swishing around in it to make the frills flare out. “I think this baby needs glitter, how about you?” he said.
“Babe,” chided Mr Kravitz. “You already have three of those in different colours…”
Mr Taako struck a pose. “What’s wrong with having four?”
Angus let the interplay go on while he looked at the matches for the culottes. The gods of vengeance and destruction failed to appear when he picked out a frilly shirt with slashed sleeves, either.
He spent half an hour playing with a dress with rainbows of mermaid sequins that all flipped to a glittering black, but he didn’t end up putting it in his basket. He preferred to move on to other things.
Having seen Mr Taako lounging around in footie pyjamas, he had to at least look at them and see if he really liked them. So far, he was comfortable in the enormous and soft giant T-shirt, but now that he’d seen Mr Taako being comfy in a set, he had to look.
Too tight, when he tried a set on. Not his thing.
There was no judgement from his rejection, either. No cries for him to hurry up. No disparaging remarks about his ability or lack thereof to make up his mind. Just Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz in different, pastel-coloured outfits as the day progressed.
Angus finally reached a count of seven, and didn’t protest as Mr Taako threw in another multipack of underwear. He did protest when he saw the rainbow mermaid sequin dress come out of the basket and join the rest of the clothes on the way to the checkout.
“I- I didn’t… I didn’t pick that, sir?”
“Want we should put it back?” offered Taako. “I saw you playing with it, I thought you liked it?”
He couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Because he did like it. It was just… “…dunno if I’m brave enough t’ wear it,” he mumbled.
“You can still play with it even if you don’t wanna wear it yet. Everything in here is charmed with Good Fit,” Taako breezed. “How d’you think Krav and I had so much fun with the merchandise?”
Mr Kravitz added, “It’s okay to want clothes and never be bold enough to wear them. So I’m told.”
“I have entire closets of clothes I’ve never worn,” added Mr Taako. “Don’t mind if ya wanna play with ‘em bee tee dubs. It’s half the fun.”
Angus did that, but always made sure he had ‘proper’ clothing on when he did. He could get braver. Eventually. Just… not this week.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]
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[AN: This is resulting from a private chat where we speculated about Ango’s gaming habits. Sweet fluffy Young Ango fic ahoy]
Sky. The sun was a square, and so was the moon, far below. Taako blinked, and the world was made of cubes that were seemingly made of smaller squares. Standing across from him was a humanoid figure made out of squares and rectangular prisms, that only vaguely looked like his little Angel. Except they were the same height.
The mountains were made of cubes. The trees were made of cubes. Even the animals were blocky. The plants were… weirdly flat.
“Sweetie?” said Taako. “What the fuck?”
“This is Fantasy Minecraft, sir. A virtual experience in a tetrahedral world.”
“Explain that to me again like I’m a kid your actual age, please?”
Ango giggled. “Everything’s made of blocks, Papa. We get materials, make things with them, and build stuff.”
Taako felt vaguely disappointed. “That’s it?”
Another blocky humanoid figure popped in. All black, with a skull instead of a face. Well. A skull made of squares. They stood very still for a moment and then looked around. “What… is this?” said Krav’s voice.
“Hi, babe,” cooed Taako. “World’s made of cubes. Can you dig it?”
“We’ll be doing a lot of digging, Papa,” said Ango. “But first, let’s go over the controls.”
It was a very educational handful of hours, in which Taako and Krav learned how to punch trees, make certain tools, then use those tools to break and gather other blocks.
Krav, a few millennia older than anyone else, repeatedly failed to understand anything. “Why’s my scythe called a ‘hoe’?”
“It is a hoe, sir. Use it on the ground to make ploughed ground.”
“It just turned back into dirt!”
“That’s because you have to plough within four blocks of water, sir.”
“It’s not working, love…”
“Da-a-a-ad… you’re trying to plough sand!”
Taako, meanwhile, had discovered that he could knock down grass, and was in the process of discovering that the blocky chickens wanted the seeds in his hand. “Someone get these fucking ducks away from me!”
Krav gave up on trying to plough the sand and attempted to reap some chickens. “I’ll save you, my Dove.”
“Papa… Da-a-ad… It’s okay. Chickens are harmless.”
There was some raucous squawking, puffs of smoke, and scattered chicken meat and feathers.
“Your toime ‘as come, miscreants,” said Krav. “Oi. Where’d me scythe go?”
Ango could have helped. Theoretically. He was far too busy laughing his little seven-year-old lungs out. “Oh my gosh,” he kept repeating.
They would later learn that they were lucky they were playing on Peaceful.
[TAZ prompts remaining: 7]
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Tumbl Into TAZ - Chapter 47 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
Another reader prompt from AO3. If I get too many of these, I may alternate with my Tumblr prompts.
Tumbl Into TAZ - Chapter 46 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
Today’s Angstus is prompted via AO3. References to child/domestic abuse within. No Anguses are harmed in this passage of fic.
[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 McDonald was small for his age, and proud of himself for qualifying into entrance into the Miller School of Academic Excellence. Taako also offered his own school, but the small boy had already argued that Taako could teach him everything anyway and it would count for extra credits.
Taako thought of it as the wrong school. Not that his was much better with the standing ‘hard knocks’ policy in regards to internal squabbles being solved with duels. Angus, smart though he was, was not emotionally resilient enough to withstand the slings and arrows of outraged fellow students.
Lucas Miller promised an arena focussed on education. Learning how to do things without much in the way of practical use within the halls. A much better environment for a scared and fragile lad like Angus.
He went with a skip in his step and optimism in his heart.
He came home with leaden feet and an ominous return of his former silence.
Taako was worried, but whipped up all his best comfort foods in snack form. It looked like he had lost what little there was of his appetite. “I’d have thought that nerd school would’a been next to heaven for ya,” he said, laying something creamy and sugary in a small bowl in front of his tiny son.
Angus sighed and poked at it with his fork.
“It wasn’t the teachers, I know they’re not stupid. One of the kids there?”
Angus held up four fingers.
“Four of ‘em. I bet it’s over stuff you can’t control, too. Let’s see… they got at you ‘cause you’re small, you’re skinny, and they called you all kinds of names. Am I spot on?”
Angus nodded and made a small ‘more’ gesture.
“They hurt you?” Now he felt like his heart was ready to explode. “Where?”
Angus pointed to his stomach.
“Bet they were all bigger than you, too.”
Nod.
“Not much detective work here. This is the same shit as always. I bet you didn’t want to make trouble.”
Nod.
“Yeah. Thing with trouble is… you gotta make it real good.” Taako smiled. “Don’cha worry, kid. Papa’s got your back. I’ll help you give those little shits more trouble then they’re bargained for. Tonight? I wanna teach you how to use Prestidigitation offensively…”
*
Angus apparently didn’t have anyone nearby as he walked through the gates of Miller School. The four who called themselves the Rough’n’Toughs laughed to each other as they elbowed their neighbours in the group.
As one, they moved to circle around Angus.
“Well, well, well,” cooed Big Jack. “The widdle baby came back…”
“Don’cha know this ain’t a kindergarten, kid?” said Jason. One of those kids who was doomed to be spelled with italics. “You might have an accident in your pants.”
The kids’ lips moved, but no sound came out.
Greasy Dave said, “I think the liddle baby wants his mommy.”
“Wait,” said Darren. Another doomed to permanent italics. “He doesn’t have a mommy.”
Which was the cue for all four of them to push him around within their circle, and chant, “You don’t have a mommy, you don’t have a mommy,” as they did so.
Taako appeared out of nowhere. He had an Orb of Recall in his hand. “Well, this is educational. I’m sure the office and your parents would love to see all of that.” He grinned. “By the way, guys, if you keep this sort of horsehit up, you might meet my main squeeze.” Taako directed their attention towards a figure in a black robe, carrying a scythe.
The Grim Reaper, floating across the ground, raised his blade up and said, “’Ave you lot been naughty boys?”
Of course they freaked and ran away.
Angus didn’t feel better immediately. He felt horrible. “…i couldn’t say anything,” he murmured. “…i couldn’t do anything.”
“Told ya I had your back, Ango,” breezed Taako.
Kravitz returned to his crisp, fleshy form. “I know how it can be when you’re used to bad things. Shutting down… it’s how some people cope.”
“Let’s make sure they can’t go crying to their moms,” said Taako. “Especially since we have evidence and they don’t.”
“…i couldn’t do anything,” murmured Angus.
“That’s okay,” soothed Kravitz. “That’s why we were here, just in case that happened.”
“For the record, I’d’a been cheering my ass off if you kicked their butts, baby.”
That? That made him feel a little better.
[TAZ prompts remaining: 4]
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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.