[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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Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ - Chapter 68 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
Twins… meet your new brother… Terry “turkey boy” Ton.
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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Reader Request #73
Lucretia decides she wants to look more regal and glamorous after her year alone on the judges planet and goes to the twins for help – missdreamgirl32
The white light re-wove itself into all the crew. As it always had. All in the position they were in when they breached the barrier between realities.
Magnus let go of the railing. Lup and Taako let go of each other. Barry let go of the railing. Merle let go of Davenport and Davenport let go of the wheel. Every single one of them was wondering how they made it out of that reality alive.
Then Lucretia let go of her books. Just… fucking dropped them onto the deck where she had been cringing when their world ended. She wasn’t cringing any more.
There were still more than a few hints of her usual timidity there, of course. Changes so profound weren’t always so obvious in mere seconds.
Lucretia set down her pen and ink, more careful about those than the books that had slammed onto the deck. All around them, they noticed that the Starblaster was in worse shape than they remembered.
“I did it,” she whispered. “It worked…”
Three months into their next reality, she came to the kitchens where Lup and Taako were where they belonged. Together, and cooking, and arguing in their friendly manner.
“If you’re looking to document my macaroon recipe, you can fuck off,” said Taako.
“No. It’s not that,” said Lucretia. “Um. I’d… like your advice in your other area of expertise.”
“You’re not getting my hachi-machi hot Hades Heartburn recipe either, babe,” said Lup.
“No, no. I mean.” She forced herself to stop her usual submissive huddle. “You. Both of you… Always find ways to command respect. You always look so… magnificent.”
“Natch,” said Taako.
“It’s in the genes,” said Lup.
They were currently both in ratty old clothes that were almost worn to a whisper. A garish combination of three different worlds’ full of disparate fashions. They still looked fucking amazing.
Taako’s hair hadn’t been brushed since he put it up in braids the evening before, and he still looked like he was runway ready.
“I… want to look better. I want… I’m tired of standing in the shadows and fading into the background. I’m tired of my own crew running perception checks so they don’t bump into me.” She took a deep breath. “I want to stand out.”
The twins got that speculative look they always got before pulling one of their epic pranks.
“Without looking like a fool,” Lucretia amended.
Taako blew a raspberry.
Lup sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Take all the fun out of it.”
“Nah. She’d tell everyone we told her to dress like that. It’d ruin our rep.”
Lup vented a long, anguish-filled groan. “Fiiiinnne. You, us, and all the trade goods we can wrangle. We’re going to the markets and giving you some kick-ass style advice, dear.”
“You’ve already failed step one,” said Taako, “which is, ‘be an Elf’, but we’re willing to work with that handicap. We’re magnanimous like that.”
The twins, of course, paid more attention to their usual look than they would have a month into a mission. Full uniform for both of them with all the stops pulled. Taako had even bothered to shine his boots.
They were representing the Starblaster, Elven kind, and whatever transformation they wrought upon her during the day.
There was a lot of walking. There was a great deal of either twin holding up things against her form and humming a lot. There was a lot of checking jewellery against her.
“Blue,” they decided before their mid-morning break. “Blue is definitely your colour.”
“Shades of blue,” said Lup. “Trim of white. Maybe small amounts of orange if you want it to pop.”
“Very small amounts of orange,” said Taako. “Little details. Fine trim level or less.”
“I see silver, I see sapphires, I see little bits of gold, maybe some amber… Heels f’r sure.”
“Lulu, she’s taller than both of us.”
“Yeah? So? She would fucking slay in heels.”
Lucretia took notes. They eventually found a plethora of clothes that gave her some regal aplomb. Some that would take her some years and a lot more courage to wear. Many that she would never wear for various reasons.
Some… she would rename later into calling them her “full business regalia” and use to command respect in her role as Madam Director in the Bureau of balance.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 10]
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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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Sno was going to be Avi’s Second in his wedding to Johann. It was a choice that was beyond automatic. It was almost instinctual. They’d been best friends since the Academy. Of fucking course she was going to be the next best thing to the Best Man. It also, kind’a-sort’a, solved the problem of what they were going to wear to the ceremony.
It also presented a heavy problem.
As Avi’s Second, it was Sno’s duty to run the Stag Night. The Bachelor Party. The last hurrah before a life of domestic bliss. Him, her, and the boys on a pretty standard evening of drunken revelry, pranks, and possibly a stripper. Sno knew about the theory, but…
That was pretty much all she knew.
She was his partner. He loved her like a sister. But gods damn it, Sno had all the social capability of a house brick.
“Hey, pard’. I can get my mother to jump out of a cake.”
Case in point. “What?”
“Family discount. Mom jumps out of a cake, does a few dirty dances, everyone has fun and we have like, a hundred spare for more booze.” She looked up from the clipboard. “It’s win-win.”
She was genuine. Sweet Fantasy Jesus, she was genuine. “It’s. Your. Mother.”
“Yes?”
“That’s fifteen levels of inappropriate.”
“Weird. ‘Cause twenty of the guys have her pinups in their lockers, and–”
Avi put his fingers in his ears and started humming. He only stopped when she stopped talking.
“It’s cool,” said Sno. “I’ve known she’s been doing this for years and she has like three ready-to-steal-’em babysitters for the twins and–”
“Your mother had twins?” Avi panicked. “You have baby sibs?”
“She found ‘em by a dumpster and is in the middle of upcycling them. Chill.”
“Wait. Stop. Someone abandoned twins by a dumpster…”
“No, they were kind’a living there themselves. You remember the Taaco case out by Tre Llew-Ddion?”
“Those twins?” Oh, this was not good. Orphaned at three, shuffled between assorted asshole family members and shitty foster homes for a year. Runaways who dropped off the map at five. A chain of suspicious fires, horrible accommodations, peculiar deaths, and murders most foul. And now they resurfaced in the illegal care of an internet stripper who was also his partner’s mother. “This couldn’t get any worse if the kids were boosting cars, Sno.”
“Believe it or not, mom’s cleaned up her act since she had me in her seventies. She’s… she’s actually better care and providing more of a stable environment than anywhere official. I’ve checked.”
“Your mother. Who played Busty Juggs in Tug Rats.”
“Yeah?”
“A better care provider.”
“She doesn’t do any hinky stuff when the kids are home. Gods. She’s a train wreck, not a monster.” Sno started ticking off the checklist on her fingers. “The apartment’s clean. Her studio’s always locked, the kids have proper food, good clothes, and they’re going to school. She makes sure they have good babysitters when she’s livestreaming. They’re even seeing some doctors about the malnutrition and parasites they picked up both on the street and via official channels. She’s… she’s actually being a halfway decent foster parent.”
Avi forced the conversation back on track. “And you want her to jump out of a cake for my Stag party.”
“The kids need books. They’re voracious readers.”
*
Of course a couple of the guys dressed up in SWAT gear to haul him away from his apartment. That was pretty much SOP for a City Watch Stag Nite. Instead of the come-along wagon, there was a party bus and Sno had stocked it with Redcheek cider. Avi’s favourite booze, besides the microbrews he made himself.
The party music was fairly typical. Nothing overtly offensive even though little of it was his particular jam. He could dance to it - more and more as he imbibed - and have a modicum of fun.
Then they arrived at the bar that was the actual party venue. A bar that had a stage with poles on it and a suspiciously huge cake.
She didn’t, Avi begged the universe. Please, gods, tell me she did not…
“Oh no,” said Sno with blatantly fake sincerity. “They delivered the wedding cake early and to the wrong address…”
Just then, half a dozen nuns entered the bar.
“Whoah, whoah, hey. This is a private party, ladies. Sisters.”
“Oh we won’t be here long,” singsonged the lead nun. “We’re gathering funds for orphaned and abandoned children. Just a five minute song and dance and we’ll be on our way.”
Waitasecond… since when do nuns wear heels? Avi had just enough time to ponder that before some heavy Eighties synth started pounding out of some small but powerful speakers. Bananarama’s Venus started pounding and a well-endowed figure burst forth from the cake.
Sno’s mom did not jump out of the cake. The stripper in the cake was none other than Hornee D'Lite, a Tiefling co-star in Tug Rats and regular feature in the local brand of direct-to-disk porno.
No. Sno’s mom was the lead nun. She had managed to gather together the entire fucking cast of Tug Rats for a one-night-only live performance.
This could not have got more mortifying if Sno had been trying. That was the regrettable part. Sno had honestly been trying to make this a night to remember.
Well… she wasn’t wrong…
Schools with a choir program always went after the Elves like starving, rabid dogs after a hunk of steak. It shouldn’t have surprised La’ming Ton, new mother of two tiny, adorable, six-year-old twins that the choir program swarmed during their first day of school. Frankly, she was shocked that someone got little mister no-words Koko to string together a complete sentence.
That kid was jittery as hell around strangers at the best of times. Hell, the first time they met, he only got into her apartment because he was out cold and Lulu trusted her. The fact that she had food when he woke up gained her a minimum of trust, likewise the fact that she didn’t force them into anything.
How he had agreed to choir had to be a tale involving major intervention from the gods. Probably all of them.
Now, though, La’ming was glad.
For such little devils, they both had voices like angels. Sweet, pure voices that never missed a note. It was almost enough to sweep one away into paradise…
Blip-blip k’chow boom “HEY DO YOU WANT TO MEET HOT SINGLES IN YOUR AREA? MY NAME’S TAMMY AND–”
Several people were glaring at the kid in the next row forward, and slightly to the left of La’ming. Some were shushing him. La’ming politely tapped him on the shoulder. “Could you silence your phone, please?” she whispered. “Some people want to listen to this.”
“Some people can bite me,” he said.
Well. She had asked nicely. Now it was her turn to play nasty.
She focussed the spell intensely onto one person. Specifically, a much smaller bubble than the usual twenty feet. Then, blessing the fact that she took a couple of levels at Bard-dom, made a gesture behind his seat and whispered, “Pianissimo, pianissimo, pianissimo, pianissimo.”
Ha. That should shut him up for the duration. Which should be extended because of the smaller volume.
His mother had to be somewhere… but La’ming wasn’t budging until her babies had their solos. Koko’s soul-cleansing extended arpeggio… closely followed by Lulu’s irrepressible tempo change into something that made the entire audience tap their feet and burst out in applause.
Damn straight. Those were her babies. Shining like they deserved to. La’ming blew them both kisses and sidled out of her seat to have a little Word with Susan Hakniid, who was busy haranguing the talent night’s director for a slot for her idiot lump of a son, Jason.
Everyone knew Jason. If it were possible, he would be put away for wasting carbon, air, and everyone’s time… but you couldn’t convince Susan of that. She was utterly convinced that her darling little Jason was a gift to the world and only needed one real chance to show it.
If he’s such a gift, how can I return it? La’ming wondered, not for the first time. It took her three goes to get Susan’s attention.
“–and furthermore, your own school charter says that every talented student will get an opportunity to shine, I was talking…”
“We noticed,” said La’ming. “All the way through other childrens’ opportunities to shine. Or is your son the only child who matters?”
Only now did Susan notice the front three rows of parents, friends, and family all glaring in her direction.
“We have sent numerous notes about your son, Jason, and his… lack of co-operative skills,” said the director, who finally had a word in edgewise. “His only talent on display tonight is that of being a disturbance. Something he’s obviously inherited.”
“You might want to have a word with him during intermission,” said La’ming. “If he thinks he can make noise during others’ performances, other kids might think they’re allowed to make noise during his performance.”
“Assuming he can spend a semester without any behaviour demerits,” said the director in a hurried addition. “Furthermore, as per the school rulebook, any further disturbance by you or your son will force us to remove you both from the premises.”
“This is a conspiracy to hold him back,” Susan hissed. “My lawyers are going to be involved.”
Thank the gods that the courts found security footage to be more admissible than Susan Hakniid ever did. Meanwhile, La’ming got to field her babies as they came off stage.
“You. Were. Amazing,” she said scooping them up into her arms and delivering a kiss each onto their darling little cheeks. She carried them towards her vacated seat and whispered, “Wanna blow the rest of the evening off for pizza and ice cream?”
Two matching grins and four matching thumbs’ up gestures. The perfect finish to a not-so-perfect night.
Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ - Chapter 60 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
Magnus realises some of the shit Taako’s been through and vows to be a better friend.