Her name was Jakaranda and she was a necromancer and a Tiefling. What she had been trying to call a spirit back into the mortal realm for was a moot point. She had forgotten a key element of the ritual - the vessel in which the soul was meant to reside. It could be anything. A golem of clay, bone, wood or flesh. I corpse fresh in the grave. A doll for the spirit to haunt. Anything at all, as long as parts of it could move and it was vaguely human-shaped.
Her name was Jakaranda, and she gave Magic Brian a door from the Astral Plane. An opportunity that he didn’t hesitate to grasp at with both currently ephemeral hands. Without a vessel, there was only one thing to possess.
Her name was Jakaranda. It’s Brian, now.
He looked at the lavender skin and the pink hair and the very tall horns care of the bathroom mirror. “Not exactly my first choize, darlink, but I guess ve can’t be ze choosers vhen ve are ze beggars, ja?”
The fading remnants of Jakaranda, trapped in the back of her brain, said, No, no, no, I didn’t want this…
“Too late,” said Brian. “Ve can’t alvays get vhat ve vant. But I… am gettink revenge…”
He could remember. Even in a living body. Interesting. The remnants of Jakaranda heard static when he said things like ‘Bureau of Balance’, but he could hear a subtle little hiss under the words that came through just fine.
Excellent. He went through Jakaranda’s wardrobe and threw together something nice and devastating. Next up, cruising some popular cities for some members of the Bureau who were so new that they wouldn’t remember him. Or, failing that, some of the consults. Yes. Being allowed around the base without a tracer bracer would be most beneficial.
*
It was almost a joke. An Elf, a Dragonborn, and an Orc walk into a bookshop/cafe…
Two of the three were wearing Bureau bracers, but the Beach Elf wasn’t. She looked like she was suffering an immense loss, and perhaps an equally high stress. She looked ready to snap, an impression not helped by her whip-thin physique.
Target acquired.
Brian had a few variations on the standard Bureau tailing technique, so that even a Bureau member wouldn’t catch on that he was following after the Beach Elf. She spent random moments crying. She’d lost someone. Recently.
Brian arranged to be in the aisle next to where she was sniffling and picked any old book so he could peek through. “Oh,” he said, “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she lied.
“You look very upset, zough. Are you in trouble? Are zose ozzer two menacing you? I can help.”
“No, they’re fine. They’re helping me, I… I’m not from around here and I’m just trying to get home. My little girl needs me.” Tears sprang forth again.
Brian had an ‘in’. He reached through the gap in the bookshelf and said, “It’s goink to be okay. I vant to help.” A touch to her cheek, and the magic words. “I just vant to be Friends.” He cast Friends on her, and she, unsuspecting, went under the spells influence.
“Of course we’re friends,” she said. “My name’s Sno. What’s yours?”
“Call me Jakaranda,” Brian cooed. “Tell me about gettink home…”
She really wasn’t from around here. She’d come from an entirely different reality where some adults here were still children, and Madame Director was a tiny three-and-a-half-year-old child named Lucretia.
Just imagining Madame Director as a tiny child almost blew his borrowed brain.
Nevertheless… “The other Lucretia, she has somesink interesting, ja? Somesing… special…”
“Of course. She has a really magic staff. It’s magic as hell.”
“If you could borrow it,” wheedled Brian, “and bring it to me… I could help you. I could send you home.”
“I want to go home.”
“Zhen you vant to help me. Find a vay to bring me ze staff…”
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]
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Alter-Sno was staring off the edge of the Moon again. It was her posture, more than her permanently-down ears or the look on her face that made Madam Director Lucretia journey over to her and say, “Please don’t jump?”
Alter-Sno took three measured steps away from the edge. “No. I wasn’t thinking about it. I was just… the me who belongs in this world is down there somewhere. Isn’t she?”
“It’s not advisable that you try to find her,” said Lucretia. “We don’t know what energies would be released with the encounter between the two of you.”
“Of course we don’t,” sighed Alter-Sno. “That’s the perfect topper to my fucked-up week. Of course there’s no progress in getting me back or reversing whatever fucked-up thing that globe did. Of fucking course you have no idea if time is passing back where I came from… I promised y– her that I’d never abandon her.”
Lucretia could hear the words that Alter-Sno had not said. The pieces slotted together. “You… promised your universe’s version… of me?”
“She’s almost four years old and… the summer fever got her parents. It was months before we found her.”
Oh. Yes. City life and staying out of everyone’s business, and being too busy to care about their neighbours… There were other factors that could lead to children living with the corpses of their parents, but that was the one most common. “I understand you’re worried about her. We’re doing our best, I promise.”
“She’d only just started talking,” said Alter-Sno. “I let her down. I broke my promise…”
“We don’t know that, yet,” said Lucretia. “Come away from the edge… there’s a tea-house here that does some acceptable shortbreads…”
Alter-Sno didn’t come for the shortbreads. “They do dandelion tea?”
For an Elf, that was pretty much equivalent to asking for a sedative. Something to knock her the fuck out so that she wouldn’t have to suffer being awake. “Only under medical supervision. You do want to keep your promise, don’t you?”
Sigh. “Yeah. It’s just… I worry about her.”
Lucretia may have made a mistake when she said, “Tell me about her.” On the other hand, Alter-Sno came back into the realm of the living when she was talking about her adopted daughter.
Unlike most Elf-Human adoptions, this one didn’t involve Luume’s interference. It involved a scared and selectively mute child only trusting Alter-Sno as the toughest person she knew, and therefore the safest one.
Like Lucretia, her tiny counterpart enjoyed reading and other quiet activities. Like Lucretia, her alternate had a reluctance to speak born of being almost criminally shy. Unlike Lucretia, there was family willing to work to help her overcome that shyness. A version of Taako who had his sister - this knowledge was classified and kept away from the rest of the base in general and Taako in particular - and was therefore much warmer towards the rest of the world. A version of Lup who could gently wheedle any close-mouthed child out of their shell.
In another world, Lucretia had careful and gentle relatives who were already shaping her confidence and capability. In another world, Lucretia had a caring family who worked around her quirks and found ways to help her communicate when she wasn’t in the mood to speak. Instead of a mother who wept and a father who yelled when she chose to be quiet and retreat, Lucretia had a family who was willing to whisper and would fetch flashcards so she could still tell them what was wrong.
Lucretia was almost jealous of a four-year-old child in another reality. It was a very strange thing to hear that one had a better life in a different dimension. Not that she wished her own parents dead, but… hearing about this could almost make her do so.
Then Alter-Sno started showing her the baby photos.
Her alternate transformed, from swipe to swipe, from the shy and retreating baby self Lucretia was familiar with, to an increasingly happy and confident little girl. Including being able to do public speaking at her school, if the photo of her at a podium (standing on a step-stool) was any indicator.
It had taken her years, one year in particular, the efforts of her crew, and this wild-ass plan of hers to acquire the gravitas and inherent power that she had today. This junior version of herself was going to have it all much sooner and without all the suffering.
Lucretia wished her well.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]
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Sno could usually set her calendar by her Luume. Every decade on the dot since she, like her mother, had been Seventy years old. Fortunately for her, she had pretty much locked herself indoors with close relatives for the entirety of that year, until her Luume passed in the company of decent adults.
This… was not the same circumstance. She should have had four more years to go. Unfortunately, the forces of fate had different ideas.
It hit in the middle of the day, as she was training with Team Sweet Flips. She went down fast and hard. Tumbling from a throw and planning to tackle as she rolled, to recovering on all fours and glaring in hurt confusion at two people who smelled like friends.
Need. A great and building need. A desperate want not easily slaked.
Dragonborn-friend halted, as did Orc-friend. They looked worried. Sno - what was left of Sno - scented the air. They were bonded with each other. Not wanting Sno.
“You okay?” said Dragonborn-friend.
She only had one word. “Want.”
“Aw shit,” said Orc-friend. “It’s Luume! Grab her!”
The part of Sno remaining understood ‘grab her’ and the fact that this would stop her getting what she wanted.
She succeeded her Dex saving throw.
*
Need. Want. Need what? Something. Somewhere. Run. Scent. Find.
Find babies! Scent! Little one! Lost little one. Follow-find. Make safe. Keep safe. Keep well. Keep fed.
Big edge! Long fall! Baby not safe! Runrunrunrun find!
“Baby!”
Baby grown up. Didn’t matter. Snatch-grab. Take away. Safe place. Soft place.
“What the shit? Sno! I am not a baby…”
All of that entirely missed the bit of Sno’s brain that was busy actually thinking.
*
Sno had built an Elf Nest out of the cushion and pillow storehouse in the moon. In it, she stowed: Lucretia, Magnus, Taako, and Angus.
She’d also dragged in a good amount of packaged food, so her current captives were okay. For limited definitions of ‘okay’.
Unfortunately, thanks to efforts of the Bureau staff, Sno was in aggressive guardian mode. Not letting anyone else in, and certainly not letting her ‘babies’ out. She also didn’t let anyone close enough to activate her “Off Switch”.
Not that Taako hadn’t been trying.
Sno wasn’t exactly rough with repelling her captives, but she was definitely firm. She’d bite ears enough to sting or, if ears weren’t available, the most convenient limb.
For Taako, two bites were plenty. He made himself comfortable and doled out packages, finding one that hadn’t been anywhere near peanuts.
“Aaannnd this is mine. Might as well settle down for the long fuckin’ haul.” He started munching. “Bathroom’s down that tunnel and no, there’s no avenue for escape.”
“Well, shit,” summarised Magnus.
Angus found one of his preferred treats. “Might as well make the most of it.”
Taako and Magnus tutted and rolled their eyes.
Lucretia voiced a very subtle groan.
Magnus raised a hand. “I’d like to talk about how we’re her babies all of a sudden. I mean. Three of us are grown-ass adults.”
“Didn’t she know us in her home dimension, sirs?” said Angus.
“Yeah. Baby versions of us,” Taako’s finger isolated himself, Magnus and Lucretia. “She must’ve picked on you ‘cause you’re a real baby.”
Civil conversation only devolved from there.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]
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[AN: This is an AU of an AU that Duality and I are calling “Glass Canon”, mainly because Sno would fucking shatter the established canon with the least little twitch of causality.]
Lucas Miller warned, “Don’t touch tha–”
A flash of light. The sensation of falling. A dizzying sensation like being inside-out without being inside out. Then something resembling reality restored itself with dizziness, disorientation, and debilitating nausea.
Snocoun Ton passed out without any realisation of what had gone wrong.
She would realise it as soon as she woke.
*
“I’ve called the four of you here today because of an unexpected event. Our arcane energy detectors found a spike in energy similar to a relic… here on the moon.” Lucretia watched their faces with a stab in her heart. Taako didn’t seem to care. Magnus was instantly alarmed. Merle was wearing his, This shit again, face. Angus was intensely shocked.
“But… every relic that comes to the moon is destroyed. Right?” said Magnus. “I mean, we’ve seen three go down.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes you have.” Better a plausible truth than a definite lie in front of the world’s greatest detective. “That’s why this arcane energy spike is so alarming. I’m afraid it only gets worse. The epicentre of the spike was in the Miller’s moon-base laboratory, which has been left vacant since the incident with the Philosopher’s Stone.”
“Fuck,” summarised Taako, not even looking anywhere but his nails. “That’s some bad beans.”
“Indeed. I need the four of you to get your asses down there and find out what the shit is happening. If you can contain it, do so. I doubt it’s a relic, but… if it seems like it could be one, Mr McDonald, I want you to retreat the hell out of there at all possible speed.”
“Yes’m.”
“I want you to find out who’s responsible for this and, if you can, bring them back to me alive. If you can’t - at least find out what they were doing, why they were doing it, and how they got that idiot idea in the first place.”
*
Sno moaned as she sat up. The world was still spinning as she tried to make sense of what had happened. The globe she had picked up from Miller’s desk was on the floor beside her. Cracked. Dull. Dead.
The lab around her was covered in a fine layer of dust. Everything here had lain undisturbed for quite some time. Not quite as she last recalled. Someone had thrown a sheet over some things, but not all of them. Her body print and the print of the globe were the only signs of recent life.
What did this idiot thing fucking do, Miller? She was still recovering her wits when the door blasted open.
“MAGNUS RUSHES IN!”
She was used to hearing that from a six-year-old boy adopted by her partner, Avi. He used it whenever he raced into anywhere. This speaker, though, was a grown-ass Humanman of thirty-something. Behind him was a smaller, stouter figure of an older Dwarf, and a slighter figure of a Humanman boy.
He looked a hell of a lot like Angus McDonald… but he’d had a daughter, not a son.
Behind all of them was a puzzling figure. Elven… a Sun Elf. Golden hair, dappled skin. It was the prominent front teeth and the gap between them that made everything click for her.
“Koko?”
“How the fuck do you know my childhood eke name?” he demanded.
But… Elves picked their adult names at one hundred. If he was an adult, then Magnus couldn’t be alive and– “Who’s the kid?”
“Hello, ma’am, I’m Angus McDonald,” he said, and offered his hand.
That was the exact moment that she knew everything was fucked up. It only got worse when they dragged her and the globe back to their Director.
The last time she’d seen Lucretia Clark, she had been bade farewell on her latest day at school. Because she was six years old and still combatting her elective muteness. Sno had kissed her adopted daughter on the forehead and gone to work.
This Lucretia was fifty if she was a day. Regal and authoritative, dripping gravitas from every pore.
Sno couldn’t help but start weeping. “Something’s gone very wrong,” she said.
Old Lucretia cocked an eyebrow that stabbed Sno through the heart and said, “Indeed.”
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 6]
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Avi didn’t worry about waking up in Sno’s apartment. She usually dragged him to her spare bedroom when he’d overdone it the night before. She would even have a decent breakfast and some Gator-aid waiting for him by the time he was done having a shower.
World’s best partner.
He didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary with the extra body products in the shower stall. What got his attention was the extra toothbrush.
There was her toothbrush, the guest toothbrush (sterilised for guest protection), and now there was a third toothbrush. Labeled with ‘his’. Hers had a piece of paper tape with the sharpie’d word ‘hers’, now.
Avi was halfway through brushing his teeth when he noticed it.
Sno was busy doing the post-hangover fry-up to restore Avi’s health points, so he was able to sneak into her bedroom to search for clues. Lucretia was likely to wake up any time soon, so he made sure he put on his pants and at least threw on a shirt before wandering out of the bathroom.
Sno’s place was, as always, display room worthy. There were a few scattered toys on the vestiges of Lucretia’s room, and the fallout from making room for her surrounding a closet or two, but it was otherwise pristine.
Sno used hospital corners when she made her bed, and she made her bed every day. Sno kept everything neat. If there was any traces of anyone else there, he’d have to go looking in her closets and drawers.
That would be a definite breach of trust.
Lucretia was sitting neatly at the table when he joined it. She had laid out some picture cards as a breakfast request. A green apple, a pile of pancakes, a syrup bottle, and some whipped cream and berries.
Avi snagged his serving of fry-up and sat a safe distance away from the kid.
“Good morning,” he said.
Lucretia held up a smiling sun card.
“Looks like you picked a good breakfast,” he said. The eggs and sausage were really hitting the spot. The bacon, especially, was just what he needed. The Gator-aid definitely helped his stinging head. So did the painkillers.
Lucretia nodded.
“Still not liking the mouth-words, huh?”
She shook her head.
“Don’t give her grief about it,” warned Sno, still working on pancakes. Her cooking had improved since Lucretia had come to stay. The twins certainly helped with that, too.
“I wasn’t,” said Avi. “And I’m not going to. Words help, that’s all.”
Lucretia had a homemade card. It had Arya Stark on it and the words, Not today.
“Yeah, I get it,” he said. “Sure nothing new’s scaring you.”
She shook her head.
*
There had to be someone in Sno’s life. She smiled a little more, when she thought nobody was looking. She tended to hum. She was more than a little more amenable when people gave her crap.
It was a stakeout that gave him an opportunity to ask. “So. Any other changes in your life?”
“What brought this on, Burnsides?”
“I saw the extra toothbrush in your bathroom. You’ve been having sleepovers, Sno?”
“We have movie nights and he falls asleep on the couch. It’s still PG.”
“Okay. You got a plan when it gets deeper?”
“Nunya, Burnsides.”
Right. Nunya. Nun’ya business. Avi knew when to butt out. “Have I met him?”
“How do you know they’re a him?”
“His and hers labels on the toothbrushes.”
A moment of thought. “…fuck…”
Avi smirked.
*
Lucretia was talking, at last. She wasn’t exactly the world’s biggest chatterbox, but she hadn’t needed her flash cards in an entire year. That was an epic accomplishment, and therefore occasion for a party.
She was a little nerd, so the games were a little more cerebral than they should be for a six-year-old. The older kids attending didn’t mind, even though they were slightly more cerebral than the stuff they were used to.
Some aspects of it were slightly more cerebral than the adults could handle. Nevertheless, the kids adapted.
Avi was having a good enough time, and so was Magnus, who had no truck at all with the rules. “So I get three attacks, right?” the boy asks.
“Not after you double dash,” said Lucretia.
“Aw beans…”
There was one guy at the party that Avi couldn’t place. Tall dude. Looked vaguely familiar. Avi knew he’d seen him before. The only problem was that he couldn’t place the guy.
He was racking his noggin as Johaan attempted to schmooze. Bards made their money with connections.
“Having trouble, sir?” said Angus, who had once refused to find out who Sno’s mystery dude was.
“I know him. I know I know him… But where?”
“Purple tights, pirate shirt, and an 80′s glam wig,” said Angus. “Picture him wearing those.”
It clicked. The Convention Caper. Of fucking course. That Dark Elf had been cosplaying Jareth from Labyrinth. Sno had been wearing a TARDIS dress because she was undercover as a nerd. The fact that she owned a TARDIS dress had flown past Avi’s notice at the time. She and ‘Jareth’ had spent a lot of time talking…
The click as it all came together was almost audible. He immediately went to Sno. “You’re dating a nerd?”
“I have depths, Burnsides. Deal with it.”
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]
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[AN: That’s chainmail under the tail, not anything hinky]
“Since you’re such loyal customers,” said Garfield, “I can name the favour you have to perform in order to win this bad boy practically for free!”
“Cool…” said Taako.
“I want you to go to Neverwinter and eliminate my mortal enemy - Nermal the Bargains Warrior.”
Tres Horny Bois snorted simultaneously.
“Seriously?” giggled Magnus.
“Either you want the thing enough to do this, or… it goes to someone who will…”
So now they were in Neverwinter, facing the lair of the so-called enemy.
Fantasy K-Mart.
The shelves were narrower, the lighting dimmer, the carts wobblier and the prices… the prices were rock bottom. Everything was on sale. The bargain bins had bargain bins.
“Holy shit,” Magnus breathed.
Taako dotted on to the Seven Birds merchandise in the toy aisle. It was off-brand and insultingly off-model. “Who’s responsible for this shit? That’s a violation of copyright, right there.”
“On da contwawy,” said a voice belonging to a debatably Tabaxi shape inside a conglomeration of pick-and-mix armour. “It’s factowy seconds and thewefowe a bawgain.”
The consensus of opinion was, “Eurrgh…”
Nermal was cute. Undeniably so. He was also a level infinity warrior and capable of taking down grown-ass Dragons all by himself.
“Don’ be awawmed,” said Nermal. “I’m Newmaw, de bawgains wawwiow. I fight de fight fow bettew bawgains.”
“This has to be the shittiest store I ever set foot in,” muttered Merle.
“Of couwse it is,” said Nermal. “We keep de ovewheads low so we can pass de savings on to you.”
It was already too late. Taako had steepled his fingers. He was taking a deep breath. Doom for Fantasy K-Mart was incoming. “Listen…” he began.
*
For a change, they returned to Fantasy Costco without much in the way of injury or a maligned state. They did, however, have a huge cart full of random shit.
“Hail the victorious heroes!” Garfield cheered. “What the fuck is all that?”
“Taako talked him down to one copper for the entire inventory,” said Magnus.
“We already went through it for anything we could find useful,” said Merle.
“You can have anything you like outta the rest of it,” said Taako. “For store credit.”
“We’ll take that macguffin now,” said Magnus.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]
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“I’ll be back late, so you two go stay at Aunty Mak’s, okay?” La’ming kissed each of the twins on their foreheads. “It’s not a school night, so you can stay up late and watch shitty television and eat shittier food if you want.”
Koko rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry.
Lulu elbowed him and said, “Gourmet pizza exists, dingus.”
“If it can have pineapple on it, it’s not gourmet,” grumbled Koko[1].
“Don’t worry about me, okay. I’m fine. It’s just a really long session at the studio.” She spared a word for Makarune. “Don’t let them cook anything extravagant, okay? They should be kids. It’s burgers and popcorn kids crave, not pate du foi gras or whatever.”
“You try to cook a decent Pappardelle one time…” grumbled Koko.
“Don’t let ‘em run through your budget,” La’ming whispered. “Common, everyday ingredients, only.”
Makarune saluted. “I honestly don’t mind having a couple of little gourmet chefs in my kitchen. Go. Do your thing. It’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t.
Most of the day went well, but all it took to ruin a good day was a slick patch on a polished floor and a bad fall.
The twins didn’t know about any of this until the next morning, when they checked their emails.
It was a simple, brief message from a ran.som@gmail.com and it said, Got your mom. Email back 4 deets.
The screaming happened exactly five seconds after the message sank in. The twins ran for Makarune. They ran for Angus, on the top floor. They raised fifteen colours of stink and nobody could get a word in edgewise between the two of them. Not that either of them were making much in the way of sense.
The words ‘ransom letter’ and ‘mom’ surfaced a lot, but since the twins were talking over each other the entire time, it took a few moments to unriddle.
By then, Makarune had dosed them with the special sedative apple pancakes and hot chocolate. The emergency meeting of friends of the family had to happen on the rooftop garden, since it was most of the apartment block by then.
Avi was there with Johaan, hand in hand. The Pithons were there, as were the McDonalds. Then there was Makarune desperately trying to keep the twins at least on something resembling an even keel. So far, the Pithons were assisting by wrapping the twins up in their tails, Avi was attempting to coach them through some breathing and memory exercises, Johaan was playing Calm Emotion, and the McDonalds were analysing the shit out of the email.
“What kind of kidnapper sends a CC?” wondered Agatha.
“Or uses Gmail?” pondered Angus.
“Whaddathey want from us?” Koko snivelled. He had his hands wrapped around a big mug that almost dripped marshmallows and cream. “We’re kids. We don’t got shit…”
Lulu wiped her face. “I been savin’ up my pocket money, an’… I got… almos’ twenny dollars?”
Agatha elbowed Angus, pointing to something on the screen. Angus peered at it, lifting his glasses up. He said, “Oh, shit.”
Koko started out-and-out bawling again. “It’s the curse! It’s the cur-hur-hurse… I hurt our mo-o-o-om…”
Lulu wrapped herself around him. “We’re not bad luck, doofus. Our stupid father didn’t know anything about anything. We’re not cursed.”
“Indeed you’re not,” said Angus. “This isn’t a ransom email. It’s an email from someone who’s name concatenates into ‘ransom’. Specifically, ran dot som.”
“I think it might be from one of your mom’s… co-workers. Ransei Somner.” Also known as Hornee D’Lite to a select crowd. “I’ve emailed her back. Your mom took a tumble and broke her arm. She’s in recovery and I have the ward details.
Koko gulped down the hot chocolate. Lulu did the same. Together, they said, “Is she okay?”
*
La’ming surfaced from a cloud of dandelion extract. Her left arm really hurt. “Ma’am… There’s a large crowd of people here to see you. They say they’re your family.”
She looked over to Ransei. The large, thickset tiefling said, “I only emailed your kids,” and shrugged.
“Wanna see m’ babies,” La’ming slurred, deep in the valley of the dandelions. “They’ll be worried about me…”
The nurse pulled aside the curtain enough so that La’ming could see the entire fucking crowd of worried residents from her apartment block.
“Heeeeyyyy,” she crooned. “Th’ gang’s all here… Where’s my babies?”
Twin golden streaks shrieked, “Mom!” and then she was covered in family. Not so skinny, any more, but still so small and so light and very, very wet.
“Din’ wanna make y’ cry, m’ poor babies…” It was very important to kiss them. She couldn’t kiss them enough. “It’s okay… they got me onna good stuff.”
“Ease up,” said Ransei. “Careful of her left arm.”
“Is this your family, ma’am?”
La’ming squinted at the mob. “Yeah, they is m’ fam’ly. We all ‘dopted eachother…”
Ransei introduced herself to the family as a ‘co-worker’. She had had the foresight to get into some street-passable clothes before climbing into the ambulance with La’ming.
Those who recognised her as Hornee D’Lite kept that knowledge to themselves.
She was a thickset, russet-coloured tiefling with an enormous set of horns. Everything about her was thick.
“You didn’t tell me your babies were this cute,” she cooed. “Hey, there li’l darlin’s. I work with your momma. Can I cuddle you?”
Lulu looked to La’ming, who slurred, “Rans issa ver’ gen’l frien’…”
She was also, the twins discovered, soft and warm and the kind of comfort they needed at that exact moment.
The assembled crowd of well-wishers decided to wait until La’ming was sober before telling her about the upset, that morning.
[1] Opinions expressed by characters are not necessarily that of the author.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 10]
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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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Every parenting book written by parents insist that quiet children were automatically getting into trouble. Every parenting book - according to Snocoun Ton, officer of the Neverwinter City Watch - was wrong. There were two states of Lucretia being quiet, and they were: asleep, or reading.
Needless to say, the school had trouble with this.
“She doesn’t talk,” complained her teacher, with the principal as backup. “Her class participation scores are terribly low.”
“She talks to people she feels safe with,” countered Sno. “She’s been through a lot for someone so young, and… if she feels more confident being quiet, perhaps you could find ways to participate that don’t include making her talk when she doesn’t want to.”
The principal, leaning against the wall, said, “I’m not entirely sure she’s reading… exactly. It looks like she’s just… flipping through the books.”
“You haven’t watched her eyes. She’s really reading them.”
Mz Tutta sighed and steepled her fingers. “For her age group, we have to hear her reading out loud for her to advance into later classes. Talking is not only necessary, but also vital for her further education.”
“That’s not fair for mute people,” noted Sno. “Nor any deaf ones.”
“She’s capable of talking,” said the principal. “Therefore, she has to talk.”
Sno did all her grumbling about ableist horseshit before she was within hearing range of the little shelter where Lucretia preferred to sit and read. She had a two-inch-thick tome from some epic sprawling fantasy, and paging through it with her normal rapidity.
She approached with just the right amount of noise. A heavy enough tread to be detected, but not heavy enough to threaten. She stopped just out of arms’ reach and dropped to a squat, waiting patiently for Lucretia to finish the section.
Little brown fingers politely added a bookmark to the places. Beautiful deep, brown eyes paid Sno cautious attention.
“Bad news, Lucretia… They’re insisting you talk. They say they have to keep you in that class until you do.”
Lucretia huffed in exasperation and sighed disappointment.
“The good news is that if you can read out loud for them, they might bump you up to an older class.”
Lucretia’s skeptical glare said that she didn’t think that was good news.
“I know. It’s all horse apples. Unfortunately, it’s all horse apples that we have to put up with. Sorry. How about… I read to you and then you can read to me, tonight. We can cuddle up in the cote and stop whenever we’re ready.”
Nod. This was a good deal.
*
Sno liked thinner books than Lucretia. She read a good section of Wee Free Men for Lucretia. She opened her tome to her bookmark and read, “Teach the ignorant as much as you can; society is culpable in not providing a free education for all and it must answer for the night which it produces. If the soul is left in darkness sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but he who causes the darkness…”
She read very softly, but she was clearly reading. Competently. Capably. Ably.
If anyone wanted to claim that a four-year-old child had somehow memorised the entirety of Les Miserables, then Sno would have immense fun watching them trying to use this as a reason why Lucretia should stay down with her age-mates.
Sno cuddled up with Lucretia as she read, checking over the little Humanman girl’s shoulder as she read. Her purr started, of course, as she helped steady the tome in Lucretia’s tiny hands. After that began, Lucretia started smiling as she read.
When she finished with the chapter, she leaned into Sno and said, “You tickle.”
“Good tickles?” Sno worried.
Nod. She squirmed further into their embrace.
Sno automatically petted her. “Don’t ever think you’re stupid just because they say so. You’re a clever little girl, and the whole world should believe in you.”
Lucretia took a deep breath and did her best imitation of an Elven purr.
It would be a long time before she would speak freely, but when she did… she would be strong.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]
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The pace of the bride, the pace of the groom, tell all watching the measure, how much love bein’ true – Ancient Faerun saying.
Some arrangements had to be made. Johann didn’t have much in the way of family who claimed him, though he had made a plethora of friends who were far, far better. The entire ranks of the Precinct and some members of the Neverwinter City watch from outside of the Precinct were there. Sno’s family could not be stopped.
Well. The rowdy side of her family could not be stopped. Which meant that Lulu was there as a flower girl and Koko as a flower boy in a dress because why should his sister have all the fun of pretty dresses with fairy wings and flower crowns? La’ming Ton, Sno’s mother, was in amongst the ranks of Watch officers with her girlfriend. Another half-Elf by the name of Makarune.
She had been the seamstress who had seen to Johann’s outfit for today.
Avi, Sno, and all the other officers of the Watch in attendance had a much easier choice of wardrobe. Or rather, a lack of choice. Formal ceremony meant formal attire. End of discussion.
Dress blues, knee boots, dress sword, capelet, white gloves, and the plumed hat. On Sno, it looked crisp and vaguely menacing. Avi, on the other hand, couldn’t help feeling like a bit of a knob in the whole get-up.
His heart was in his mouth. This was it. This was the big day. This was where his life changed for the better for sharing it with Johann.
Soon to become Mr Johann Burnsides.
“Teeth,” said Sno.
He bared them, and she checked for anything embarrassing stuck in there. There shouldn’t be. He hadn’t been able to eat anything since he woke up and fought off the hangover thanks to the McDonald Family recipe for Gator-aid.
“Your teeth aren’t green either. Excellent,” she noted.
“Yeah, despite Andy’s best fuckin’ efforts.” They shared a laugh. “Ready as I can be.”
Sno stepped outside the door, made certain her sword was clear and clean and saluted the Chief of the Watch with it before returning it to her scabbard. Across the way, one of La’ming’s co-stars -unrecognisable in a crisp black suit- exited the opposite chamber and gave the signal.
Buglers played a fanfare. The door opened. Avi barely remembered the formalities because -oh sweet gods- Johann was resplendent in full Bard’s Motley. Deep lapis. Stark vermillion. Vibrant saffron.
The hose. The long, scalloped sleeves. The slashed pantaloons. The fucking codpiece. And the brocade. My gods, he looks magnificent.
Johann’s magnificent curls were trained into ringlets behind his lovely pointed ears, and sailing on top like a ship in the storm was a feathered cap with a peacock’s eye in amongst all the other finery.
Avi didn’t remember what pace he set but witness statements after the fact stated unanimously that both he and Johann took off running to collide in a hug and kiss combo where they both took turns dipping each other. Much to the enthusiastic applause, cheers, and hoots of the audience.
The celebrant officiating had to remind them both to “save some of that for later.”
He took off his gloved and tucked them beside the sword. Staring at Johann and holding his hands as the celebrant went through all of the usual palaver.
He remembered sounding soppily goopy when he said, “I do,” and loving hearing it in Johann’s voice when he said the same.
Tears might have been shed. Sno would never admit to it in her lifetime.
While they were sharing the official kiss, the twins had a competition to see how many flower petals they could get in the new couples’ hair. They were extremely lucky that they were small and cute and could get away with those kinds of shenanigans.
They both had indelible smiles on their faces for the rest of the day.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 11]
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