Taako had allegedly been teaching Angus survival skills. So far, that sort of training had involved waking up in the middle of nowhere with Taako lounging artfully on some landscape and the greeting, “Surprise, little man. Any thoughts on how to survive this one?”
Angus was getting used to it. He had set every possible alarm on his sleeping quarters, but still Taako managed to pick him out of bed, stuff him into a sleeping bag with some bare essentials, and take him off the moon and into a random wilderness. The only irritating thing at this point was that this was the third time in as many weeks.
Angus had had to admit it was effective. Taako would hang around and supply information whenever Angus stumbled. The basic rules had already been covered. Survival skills like the priorities of water, shelter, and food. Where the best places to locate all three could be. What perils to watch out for in which terrains, how to be prepared to escape them.
Never how to be prepared to beat them. These were survival lessons. Taako taught him survival. How to live another day. Getting strong enough to beat the heavy hitters involved living that long.
So far, this trip had been more pleasant than most. Fishing in the local stream, cooking over a campfire, running survival checks to forage for foodstuffs. Angus thought he was doing rather well, until he brought a handful of elderberries to his mouth.
“NO!” Taako screamed like he was watching his mother being murdered.
Angus dropped them out of reflex, but Taako was already on him, checking in his mouth, feeling him over, temperature and pulse, glaring into his eyes.
Taako was talking very quickly. “Nightshade looks like elderberries. Never eat ‘em if you can’t be sure. Watch out for sweats, light sensitivity, a high heart rate. Nausea. D’you feel nausea, kiddo? Any kind’a sick? Feel like y’r insides wanna become outsides?”
“I’m fine, sir, I didn’t even eat one.”
Prestidigitation to create a palm-sized glowing globe. It wavered back and forth in front of Angus’ eyes. Close and then further away. He kept this up for five whole minutes.
“Damn it, why’re your eyes so dark? Why’d I have t’ leave my Stone on the moon? You feeling any dryness in your mouth, sweetheart? Palpitations? Any need at all to throw up or take a dump?”
Taako’s pupils were paper-thin slits, even in the gloom of early evening. His pulse was jumping, his breath quickening. His ears lowered and his hair thickened as it curled with stress. He was panicking.
“Sir…” Angus held his hand. “I’m not dying, I promise. Let’s take some deep breaths, okay? Breathe with me.” He breathed a little slower than Taako’s panicked panting. Slowing down towards a normal rate as Taako slowed down. “I’m fine, sir. I did not eat any berries.”
“Good thing because those are night…” he trailed off, gaze jinking over all the plant. “Those are actual elderberries. Clusters, not singles. Different leaves… They. They’re… elder…” He pulled Angus close in a rare hug. His heart was pounding. “Better t’ stay away from ‘em, huh? Just in case.”
Taako was trembling, that night, as Angus made dinner. Since they were following the stream down its course, it was fish again. With safer wild herbs for seasoning. His hands shook as he wound his golden hair into its evening braids.
“Are you going to be okay, sir?” Angus asked.
“Watched a lot of people get nightshade poisoning,” his voice trembled, too. “Not pretty.” He crawled into his sleepy sack and Mage Handed the zipper closed. “You remember Hold Person, right?”
“It’s not a cantrip, sir. It’s a Second Level spell.”
“Well, fuck,” muttered Taako. “Not gonna lie, this’ll be a rough one.”
The ears of the ridiculous cartoon dog face on the chest of Taako’s sleepy sack were also restraints for the arms. To stop a person inside from hurting themselves in the middle of their nightmares. Angus had to promise three times to sit on Taako if he tried to escape the camp.
Taako didn’t lie. It was a rough one. Three separate nightmares, one of which had him bawling like a child for someone named Sazed. A different one had Taako thinking Angus was a vengeful ghost. He slept peacefully at the dawn, and Angus let him have the extra rest.
The sunlight finally made him sit up and wake into the real world. “Ugh,” he said, “Fuck. Okay. You’re you. We’re still at a camp, and headed towards civilisation. I’m good. Lemme out of this thing.”
Angus set him free of the sleepy sack. Served a decent breakfast of leftovers and packed up what he could while Taako stretched and picked at his food.
Now the mystery of the Elf’s shadowed eyes and lack of appetite was solved, revealing another riddle underneath. If he had his notebook, he could write the clues down. Pity that wasn’t in his go-bag.
Angus didn’t try to eat any elderberries for the rest of the trip.
[TAZ Prompts remaining: 10]
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Knife(-eared) Wife
It’s taken me a few days to share, but Captain_Cap (AO3) [aka DefineDetermined on DeviantArt] sent me this lovely sketch of Lup, inspired by my verbal description in a much earlier post. (LINK!)
In this pic, Lup is depicted from the shoulders up, looking to the left of the screen, and isn’t wearing any visible clothing. She has short, curly, blonde hair in an undercut, three piercings on the upper side of her right ear(the only visible ear), two piercings on the lower side, chained together. She also has a loop lobe gauge. She has a barbel piercing on her right eyebrow and a septum piercing hanging below her nose.
It was a lazy, rainy day. The school holidays were past the initial excitement phase and into the boredom phase. Especially on lazy days like this one.
They were a family tangle. Cats and parents and child, all laying around in a cote and intermittently napping. Uncle Barry and Aunty Lup were taking turns napping and reading. Cats leaned on people and occasionally groomed them.
“Papa?”
“Hm?”
“Why’s this place called Sellsnow Farm, but you’re called Taako Taaco?”
“I’m descended from the Sellsnows, but on my mother’s side. Never learned my father’s surname, so… Didn’t have a last name for quite a while.”
Aunty Lup took a deep breath and said, “The surname we’ve got is a Clerical Error. They asked him his name, he said Taako. They said, ‘and your first name?’“
“It was too late by then. They spelled it with a C instead of a K, so Lup and I were permanently in the books as Lup and Taako Taaco.”
“So glad to be a Bluejeans,” Aunty Lup yawned. “No more horseshit.”
“So… how did they get the name Sellsnow? And why is the house a tree?”
“Tree and burrow,” Taako corrected. “That’s an extended history lesson.” He yawned and stretched. “A long, long time ago, Elves were the first intelligent people in the world.”
“If you listen to Elves,” added Aunty Lup. “Loads of others reckon they were first.” She stretched and sat up from leaning on Uncle Barry. “The brief part of it was that the Elves got arrogant and became enormous pains in the butt.”
Angus giggled.
“That naturally lead to a period of persecution,” said Dad from his apparent coma. “Lots of races chasing after Elves and hunting them down. They developed a lot of stealth techniques as a direct result.”
“That’s why you get Cloaks of Elven Kind that help you with your stealth,” said Uncle Barry. “And why you get Mountain Ygdrasi trees.”
“Arcane-altered arborea,” said Dad. “They can be shaped by Druids, Clerics, and the occasional Monk, I believe.”
“Might’a missed somebody,” said Aunty Lup. “Can’t be bothered remembering.”
“Sellsnow farms was like a fortress back in the early persecution age. Kind’a… a castle. There was enough room for a whole Elven village to hide in the warrens and wait out any besieging party,” said Papa. He moved just far enough to wrap himself around Angus. “With loads of passages so the kids and stuff can just nope out of there in safety.”
“They were dark times,” said Dad. “Lots of innocents on both sides.”
“Years passed and people didn’t need the defence,” said Aunt Lup. “The family stayed with it, but… the land wasn’t exactly fantastic for making food. The seasons were just a little too short.”
“Had to work as hard as possible to have enough to feed the families,” said Uncle Barry.
“Then Empanaada the First of Sellsnow realised that a valuable resource was literally falling out of the sky.”
“Snow,” Aunty Lup drawled. “They didn’t have imbued cold spells, so they needed ice to keep food and stuff cold and fresh. Snow, once packed, turns into ice. Ice… used to be worth twice its weight in gold.”
“Like… fifty years before you were born,” said Dad. “After that, they cracked the code for making Fantasy Refrigerators.”
“This farm fell into neglect before then,” Papa said. “Grampa Tostaada had a twin brother Taako. He was more into fame and fortune and his kids and grandkids were… uh…”
“Spoiled brats with an eye for profit and little else,” supplied Aunty Lup. “They took everything the farm did - including taking in travellers, and turned it into a profit.”
“This place did not do that well as a motel resort,” added Papa. “It sucked the soul out of the village and got way too commercial. Then all the fussy rich kids moved off because it got too big.”
“Couldn’t sustain it anyway,” Aunty Lup rearranged herself to lean on Papa. “We were long gone before then.”
“But we’re still Sellsnows. Same genes as the Tostaada who once lived here. All the old wards recognise us as family. Bonus, right?”
Angus put a mark in his book and curled up in his Papa’s arms. “It’s super nice,” he sighed. “Papa?”
“Mm-hm?”
“C’n you teach me how t’ make the best fried catfish?”
Papa chuckled. “Only if you help me catch the fish.”
[TAZ Prompts remaining: 6]
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“Babies! Gimmie them babies!”
“Grampa!” Agnes cheered.
The twins, Aloicious and Ambrose, squealed and kicked as Taako swept them up on his arms to cover three small foreheads with kisses. “Mama and Papa are pretty silly, giving me all you babies…” he cooed. “We’re gonna have sugar cookies… and all the popcorn you can eat… and watch all the shows that babies should never see…”
“Sir,” sighed Angus.
“I know. I’m less of a pain in the ass when I’m on Luume.” He settled the kids onto a fantasy beanbag, where Neapolitan started grooming Ambrose. The tiny boy giggled.
Aloicious rolled over and started swinging his hand at Neapolitan’s fur. “Ki’y ka’!”
“Smart little nuggets,” said Taako. “Makes me wanna re-check the baby gates on all the ways to the upper floors.”
“On it,” said Agatha. She was pretty fast, but then, having three kids under seven years old had improved her move speed and her dexterity. She could double dash around the entire ground floor, checking every single byway upstairs or downstairs for potential egress.
She had it all done -and had re-enforced some- before Aloicious could clamber off the fantasy bean bag. Agatha was out of breath, but victorious. “Ten outta ten, Grampa. They’d have to work real hard to get to where they’re not supposed to be.”
“I got distractions galore and they love me. We’re gonna be fine.”
The air tore, and Kravitz re-entered the lands of the living. “Grand-babies! Grand-babies! I wanna hug and kiss my grand-babies!”
“Not while you’re chilly, babe,” Taako insisted. “Don’t wanna give the nuggets the chills.”
“So help me warm up,” he flirted.
They kissed.
“GROSS,” complained Agnes.
“One day, you might not mind so much,” Angus deposited the kids’ travel bags and spare pile of nappies. “We plan on only taking four days on this. Tops. Team Sweet Flips has orders to come help after two.”
“You’ll be fine,” said Kravitz. Well. He would know. “Taako and I are going to have four days worth of spoiling these kids absolutely rotten.” As if to prove his point, he produced a handful of individually-wrapped Fantasy Werthers Originals.
Angus glared at him. So did Agatha. The kids, on the other hand, were ecstatic. There was no time to chide them. He and Agatha had to go.
*
Taako chuckled. Let Agnes think he was feeding these kids candy twenty-four sev. That’s what grandparents were for. That’s what he got for making Taako a grandfather. Three times. Before he was even two hundred. Little asshole.
For such a tall humanman, Ango certainly managed to produce some fucking tiny babies. These kids needed some good food to help them grow tall enough to overshadow their beanpole father.
Ha! That would be some revenge. Except for the part where they would be towering over their Grampa. He’d get pissy about that later.
Right now, he needed to make some good food for hungry little hands. The biggest problem was convincing these fussy little nuggets that it was good and not automatically yuck because of the ingredients.
Half was in the presentation. The other half was in the preparation. “Okay, my little nuggets. We’re going to make super-special fish and chips. Grampa and Popop are doing the dangerous stuff. You three get to help out with the super tasty stuff.”
“YAAAY!”
Aglet was already sold. She loved cooking with her grandparents. Krav could help the tiny twins with the stirring and watching and waiting for the timer. They were all up on their kiddie songs.
Taako got the kids to sprinkle salt and herbs on the salmon while Krav peeled and chopped the sweet potato. If they honey-roasted those, then the kids would definitely eat those vegetables. Taako cut the salmon into portions and set them with butter into the hot pans, then tumbled the chipped sweet potato through the honey.
They’d need regular interference to make certain of an even coat. Stirring the sauces - cheese or hollandaise or aioli - would keep the impatient occupied between turns.
Amber liked watching the mist drops on the glass lid of the frypan. He was smart enough not to touch. Aloe was all over the sauces, sometimes muscling his Popop out of the way so he could have his turn.
Aglet crouched by the oven door, watching the chips turn colours or the honey start to bubble. She had the patience of a proper chef. Time would tell if the other two had any such talent. They were two. About all they had the patience for was popcorn and pancakes.
Taako got down his cookbooks with the pictures in them. Readying them for the nuggets. Kids liked meals so much better if they could help make them. Giving them a choice in food always helped that sort of thing along.
Kids loved variety if they didn’t know it was gourmet… though Taako suspected at least one dish would be squid-weenies[1] in tomato sauce.
There would also be more than a few recipes that made a huge mess. It wasn’t a decently distracting kiddie holiday without an enormous mess.
He’d keep these kids so distracted that they wouldn’t want to go back to their parents. Riding deer, catching catfish, taunting the cats, and huge amounts of Fantasy Cartoons. That, and cuddles and food? They were set.
*
When Angus and Agatha returned, little worse for their adventures, it looked like the kitchen had exploded in recent history, but it smelled like something delicious had come out of Taako’s Aga.
The kids and their grandparents were in the largest cote that the house had on the ground floor. Two adults, three kids, five out of seven cats and a solid scattering of stuffed toys were tangled together in the blankets and pillows.
Aloicious still held half of a shaped cookie in one lax hand. Stained glass shortbreads. The worst combination of sugar, flour, mess, and the fun of melting hard candy in the oven.
Grampa sure knew how to keep them both hepped up and busy.
Agatha shared a telepathic look with him. He shrugged and toed off his shoes. they each crawled inside the cote, helped themselves to some leftover stained-glass cookies, and took a well-deserved rest.
There would be plenty of time for kissing babies when they were all awake.
[1] Insert spaghetti strands into cut-up cocktail franks. Boil. Consume with tomato sauce. Give Taako some time, he’ll figure out how to make that gourmet.
[TAZ prompts remaining: 6]
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Hey Fluffy TAZ writers
@kiwibite has been having a bad day and needs the cutest TAZ ships stat!
I’ve done my tale for today [have mercy on my rheumatoid wrists!] so it would be a great thing if y’all sent them some quality schmoop, fluff, and cuteness.
They have a preference for taakitz, so if you can swing that, then it’s a bonus.
Thanks to all of y’all.
[AN: I did kind’a promise that all these prompted fics would be PG, so…]
There were few things that Kravitz genuinely hated. Hate was a strong word, especially for a man who had once been a Bard in love with the world and in love with love. For centuries, the only one on his list had been the kinds of cults who sacrificed children.
It was only in relatively recent years that he had grown to hate Luume’irma. Taako. Angus. And now there was a tinny little tune coming from Agatha’s wrist.
Fuck.
She was scratching at her clothes and growling. This was looking like a Spare Robe kind of deal. Thanks to Barry and Lup’s Luume shenanigans, he kept a spare as a matter of routine by now. At least Agatha was close to regular.
On the minus side, there were no conveniently hormone-regulating mushrooms in the vicinity.
On the plus side, if there was a kid about to be sacrificed in this latest necromantic cult, then that kid would be the luckiest kid in the world. The necromancers, on the other hand, would die of natural causes.
It was perfectly natural to be shredded apart by a luume-crazed half-elf for threatening a child.
Rrriiiip… Agatha had decided her clothes were too itchy. Right down to her underwear.
Kravitz pulled the robe out and crammed it over her in one smooth move. The robe, crafted in the Astral Plane and made out of woven Night, could not possibly irritate anyone. After that, it was only a matter of helping her arms through the sleeves.
“Want,” she mumbled. “Where?”
Kravitz pointed her in the direction of the ominous chanting. Staying behind her just far enough to be able to pilot her. It didn’t take long for Agatha to classify one individual there as ‘feed’ and everyone else in her field of view as ‘fight’.
The low growl she made was their only warning.
All he had to do was gather up the freshly-ended Necromancers and push them through to the trainees on the other side. That, and help soothe the tiny Gnome now being nursed by a bloodstained half-Elf in a Reaper’s robe.
“No. Ag–” he sighed. Taako might not like this, but it was better than what was happening now. “Here.” He took a sweet cake out of the lunch Taako had packed for him and passed it to Agatha. “Feed the baby this.”
Gnomish children were tiny, and a spot of Prestidigitation made the cake and Agatha’s hands sparkling clean. The cake was enormous in those little hands. Even a baby with just four teeth knew what to do with a sweet cake.
All the crying stopped. Agatha was purring up a storm.
Kravitz took out his Stone of Farspeech. First… inform the new papa. Then, inform the new grampa. There would be hell to pay, of course. But guaranteed, this tiny new Gnome would have a family after all the arguments wore out.
“Baby,” cooed Agatha.
“Yeah,” said Kravitz, dialling up Angus’ frequency. “You got a nice baby.”
[TAZ prompts remaining: 6]
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[AN: (Looks at the two I’ve already written and the one I have planned) (sweats)]
Angus was born close to the day that Lucretia betrayed them. She had planned everything to the last detail. What she had not planned for was a certain Elf’s erratic and unpredictable cycle coming into play.
Fuck.
Lup was gone. She had to be gone, or she’d have found a way to come back to the Starblaster. She and Taako were so hard in sync that this really shouldn’t have happened, and yet… there he was. Temperature rising. Metabolism ramping up to ‘high’. Resistance to the voidfish’s slumber-spell as his memories rewrote themselves? Rising.
He started moving. Sniffing the air. Grunting and murmuring half-formed syllables when he wasn’t subtly whimpering in pain and loss. His hands attempted to reach out for someone or something.
She didn’t have much time.
Lucretia more or less dumped Taako in the Stage Coach without any kind of care or ceremony. Somewhere nearby, someone had to have left an unwanted child somewhere. It was an adjustment of Locate Creature and Locate Person that worked with the vaguest of descriptions. In this case, “new, unwanted baby.”
It didn’t take long to find one. A small bundle in a basket left on the steps of a trade house. Asleep and not alerting anyone to their presence. She burned all her slots on Expeditious Retreat, just to get this kid to Taako before he happened to anybody else.
After that, it was a simple matter of depositing the basket at the door and gently, carefully sliding it closer to Taako. An Elf undergoing Luume’irma and recovering from a voidfish mind-wipe.
Whatever divinity knew and controlled all the multiverse? They were the only ones that would know what this was doing to Taako’s brain.
*
Ten Years Later…
The inn where Barry Bluejeans was resting up was on fire. There should have been only one person stupid enough to run into an inn that was on fire. Especially an inn on fire that contained an angry Dwarf who was also on fire.
There were actually two.
“MY BABY!”
In a so-far uncharacteristic display of courage and thoughtlessness, Taako… rushed in. Ahead of Magnus. Ahead of everyone who had the slightest fragment of doubt.
“Taako!” Magnus called, but even he could not brave the flames. People were screaming and running for safety. Animals were stampeding the heck out of there.
They could hear Taako shrieking for his baby… and a small, piping voice calling for their Papa. Then Taako burst out of an upper floor window, holding something in both arms.
Magnus rolled a crit to catch them. He had a slightly singed Elven wizard in his arms, who had a smoke-stained small boy in his. A small boy of ten who looked nothing like Taako. The child was darker, and most definitely not Elven.
It was the ears. They were a dead giveaway.
“Taako?” said Magnus. “When did you get a kid?”
“Maybe we should get the fuck outta here first,” Taako pointed to the inn that was getting increasingly on fire. “That’s more’n we can handle.”
“Point,” Magnus acknowledged, and began to rush off after Killian for the well.
*
Gods… they got old, Lucretia thought. They were so much older, now, than they had ever been in the century they’d been running. Taako was the only one who showed it less, but there was still an alarming change.
Taako, once a clothes horse, had apparently been wearing that one outfit until it had begun wearing out, then subsequently patching it or darning it where necessary. Peeking out from behind his hip was the reason for the frugality and, come to think of it, the alarming weight loss from the plushly upholstered twins that she was used to seeing.
Luume’irma could do interesting things to a life. This little boy had to be the baby she had unceremoniously scooped from a Smithy’s doorstop. Three miles away from Mudwater Hollow.
His life would be so very, very different if Taako hadn’t had one of his episodes right there and then. She had changed his entire life with one, split-second decision.
The boy wore glasses, and his dark eyes jinked about, glancing at everything as if taking notes. His clothing was neat and clean, but not brand new. Something had happened to the good life Lucretia had hoped to give Taako. He should never have had a reason to start adventuring.
Yet… here he was. With a child. With a Relic and a magical artefact in his possession. Both of which, his sister had made. He’d found her. Judging by the look on his face, he had no clue that he had done so.
She had to make certain that they made it. No more families, eaten by the Hunger. No more black terror, consuming reality. No more running. No more hiding. No more of this endless war.
They couldn’t be allowed to know who they once were. They weren’t ready. None of them could know, not even the sharp-eyed child who had his eyes ticking over every clue he could see.
Lucky that she had had ten years to refine her deception skills. Even though she had to do this, she hated herself. “Welcome, the four of you, to the Bureau of Balance…”
[TAZ prompts remaining: 6]
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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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The sparring match stopped when Angus landed badly. Everyone in the Icosagon froze. Clerics in the room looked to each other.
“Not it,” said Merle.
Taako rolled his eyes as he put his Umbrastaff down. “You okay there, pumpkin?” Not that he overtly cared or anything, but the kid was kind’a the whole moon’s mascot at this point and he would lose major social points if he didn’t at least pretend.
Sure. He could tell himself that one.
“It just stings, sir.” Angus McDonald propped himself up at first, then moved into a seated position so he could inspect his injuries. As he brushed the dust off, blood started to flow.
“Oh golly… Who’s got Cure Wounds?”
Now the Clerics were looking at each other with worried expressions.
“Aw fuuuuck…”
“No, it’s okay,” Magnus Burnsides rushed in. He picked Angus up and carried him over to the benches. “Y’all got any first aid kits?”
Now the assembled Clerics could provide. Taako tutted and sighed. Trust a Cleric to run out of spell slots early on in the day. He hovered and watched, pretending that he was feigning an interest for the benefit of anyone watching.
“That’s some primo gravel rash, kiddo,” Magnus said, using a cloth to dab at the wounds, cleaning them.
Angus hissed.
“Yeah, this antiseptic almost always stings. You can get some that don’t? But not in your standard medicine kit.” He had an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” Angus managed through gritted teeth. “I’ve had this sort of thing done before, sir.”
Taako subdued a rising ire against anyone who’d made this boy suffer on purpose. This was probably some kind of fucked-up normal for little Ango. Poor kid. Taako had to find a way to make the kid wake up to that fact. Just… not today.
“This is swabbing. It helps keep the blood from dripping just about anywhere,” said Magnus. “These kits come with a pair of scissors so you can cut it to size. Good rule of thumb is to measure the injury with your hands and cut a finger’s width wider. Lay it on gently, don’t press it in…”
“Uhuh,” said Angus. “This seems almost deceptively easy now that you’re explaining it.”
“What? Clever clogs like you didn’t gain a proficiency in medicine?” said Taako, teasing him. Which gave him an excuse to hang around and be certain that the kid was going to be okay.
“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t know everything about everything, sir.”
“These are the bandages,” continued Magnus. “You want them firm enough to stay on, but not tight enough to cut off your circulation. Leave an end loose at the start, wind one way, wind the other, I like to do that twice before tying off. Nice and snug?”
“Yessir.”
“Always check the extremities to make sure they’re not turning red. That’s a sign that it’s too tight. Also watch out for swelling, pins and needles, and a loss of sensation. That means you gotta re-wind it. Got all that?”
“Yes, sir! I need a minute or two to make some notes on all this.”
Taako coughed his way around the word, “Nerd.”
Magnus glared at him. “Now, you have to un-wrap it tomorrow, clean any yuck outta there, and rebandage it if you can’t find any useful Clerics.”
“Useful Cleric is an oxymoron,” muttered Taako.
“And rest that leg for a while, okay?”
“Yeesh. Just admit you wanna adopt him, why don’cha,” sniped Taako. “Kid’s not that dumb or fragile.” That was the closest thing Ango was going to get to a compliment today. Or at least, until he learned Taako’s Magic Lesson number four - Avoid Getting Hit.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]
[Go visit internutter (dot) org for deets on my life or how to help support my lifestyle]