The Xenophobia wars ended less than two hundred years ago. If you asked any random Human, they would claim the time to be closer or longer than four hundred years. They liked to pretend that the only Elves who remembered the atrocity of yesteryear were the ones who were behind the times and therefore easier to ignore.

Two hundred years after the wars came to a close, there were other evils. Segregation, separation of children from families. Sno was lucky that she’d only read about some horror-shows. Saint Vingo’s, for example, always came to the surface of that particular kettle of bad fish.

That one had given her nightmares for weeks.

The last generation of Elves had grown up more or less incapable of forging families. They had reproduced, and government ‘help’ had produced yet another generation of runaways and half-breeds flocking the ghettos and eking out existence out of whatever they could grab.

La’ming had nearly been down that deep dive. Right into the darkest gutter. She’d had a close call. A very narrow escape. Yet she still gained a majority of her income from… less than socially acceptable avenues.

The rise of dragon dens, Elven gangs, and trade in weeds had caused a lot of (Human) wowsers to generate fuss over how this sorry state of affairs could possibly have happened. They often did this whilst trumpetting about recreating horror-show reform schools that were exactly like Saint Vingo’s… which had caused the extant problem in the first place.

In an effort to pay lip service to action, the Chief of Police came up with a phenomenal stroke of pseudo-brilliance that was destined to bite people in the ass long after he’d retired. He outlawed being underage and unmarried on the streets if one was also Elven.

In an effort to reduce incidences of prostitution, and in an epic display of ignorance, one law stated that it was now illegal for Elven maidens to walk the streets of Neverwinter without the escort of a parent. Elven women had to be married in order to have the freedom to go where they whist and act under their own mental power.

It was bullshit.

As the only unmarried Elf maiden on the force, Sno felt obligated to do something. Not just for the children roaming the streets, but for any other Elf maidens everywhere who may have to deal with these asshole laws in the future.

Since the genetic donor responsible for fathering her couldn’t be assed with her existence, the only parent she had to escort her on her job in the streets of Neverwinter was none other than La’ming Ton. Her mother.

Her mother, who had had Sno at age seventy-one. Her mother, who had abandoned her to her grandparents at age seventy-two. Her mother, who had a criminal record longer than a Goliath’s arm. Her mother, who had earned her most stable income through being a cam girl. Her mother who had recently become emergency foster mother to the Taaco twins. Twins who were also gathering a long record… or at least a very thick case file.

As far as civil disobedience was concerned, this was fucking perfect.

Snocoun Ton, on patrol with her partner Avi -who had been briefed- with her mother in tow and, because minors couldn’t be left at home unaccompanied, the twins. All three of her immediate relatives had been told that, as a proper Elf maiden, Sno could not upbraid her mother or assist in the parenting of her adopted siblings.

Which meant that all three of them had automatic license to commit any and all minor crimes whenever Avi’s back was creatively turned.

It was only a matter of time before the Chief turned up to see what the hell was going on with them. They had been patrolling some of the better neighbourhoods, filled with the aforementioned wowsers, with La’ming wearing some of her flashier outfits and the twins… just being their adorable hyperactive little selves.

Half the golden street numbers in Elysian Heights had gone ‘mysteriously missing’ inside of the first week. The twins were most upset when they learned that they weren’t real gold. Nevertheless, polished brass still had some interesting-for-children resale value. Which was why the very same walled estate frontages were now gaining a layer of small, sticky, Elven handprints.

The chief arrived in his rolls (the hubcaps would be gone in less than a minute, the figurehead on the bonnet would vanish in another minute) and left its secure confines to talk with his most promising Elven officer.

“Ton! Sno! What the hell is all this?”

Sno had a carefully cultivated air of innocence. Nobody could ever guess it was the cleverest of forgeries. “Chief! What a pleasant surprise,” she saluted. “You’re always saying how officers of the law should follow the law, sir. As an example to all others, I’m following your most recent law, sir.”

“What sort of law makes you drag along creatures like that–” he pointed to the twins, who were using the back of his rolls as a trampoline. “–while you’re on duty?”

“No unmarried Elf maiden may go unescorted through the streets of Neverwinter,” she quoted. “Escorts must be characters of good repute and blood relatives, for example, the maiden’s parents.”

La’ming handed the Chief his wallet back. “You need to be more careful where you put this, sir. There’s light-fingered people everywhere.”

The wallet was, no doubt, lighter by a decent percentage of whatever he had in there.

“Chief, allow me to introduce my mother, La’ming Ton,” said Sno. “And these are her wards, Lulu and Koko. You remember that child abandonment case? Tre Llew-Ddion?”

The Chief’s face was an open book with large print and the current page said, Oh, shit… “The children don’t need to be here.”

“Oh, but they do, sir. My mother is their only recognised legal guardian, and therefore the only figure of custody. Leaving them in the care of unauthorised babysitters would be irresponsible, sir.”

“Daycare places. Exist.”

“Sir! Surely you remember the case file you yourself inspected before passing to me… The twins have had numerous bad experiences with official institution. Leaving them there could scar them for life, sir. They’re best in the care of someone they know who cares.”

The twins, bored of attempting to take things from the Chief’s rolls, started climbing the Chief. Sticky handprints and half-chewed sweets appeared all over his crisp uniform.

“You do have a father somewhere,” he growled.

“My father has never been involved in my life to date, sir. Asking him to get involved now would be pointless.” She faked a bright and vacant smile. “Fun fact, he’s one of the people in the council who helped you write this law.”

“But he’s…” the Chief trailed off. The math came out in his head and the full story was not something he wanted to air. Evidently, an older man could make a baby on an underaged girl and still be a gentleman of standing while the girl herself was criminalised.

“Yes,” singsonged Sno. “And not a penny paid for child support.”

The Chief got back on track. “They’re your family. Remind them of the law!”

“Why, sir… for shame. A daughter has no business correcting her own mother, sir. I’m a mere maiden. I have no authority over my younger siblings. Further, I have no legal hold over what they do.”

Lulu had reached the Chief’s shoulders and took his hat for herself. Koko, soon after, confirmed that the Chief did indeed wear a toupee.

Sno may have won a prize for keeping a straight face under those circumstances.

The Chief wheeled on La’ming. “Madam! Control your brats.”

La’ming took offense. “You mean horrible man, how dare you try to suppress my sweet little baby angels.”

Nobody could cause a scene like La’ming Ton. The twins, of course, fell to the street level, sat down, and started bawling their eyes out. Now any wowsers watching from behind their lace curtains would see the Chief as the bad guy.

That law was going to be stricken from the books in less than another week.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 11]

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