Canon

There was an impossibly small boy writing in a notebook. The pencil seemed to be moving too fast for a child of his apparent age. Officer Snocoun Ton boggled at the boy. He was smaller than some dolls she had seen for sale in the fancier parts of Rockport.

He looked up from his work, noticed her, and waved. “Hello, ma’am. Are you the officer sent by the Rockport Militia?”

Sarcasm bubbled out of her. “No, I’m a serial child molester and now you’ve told me everything I need to know to abduct you.”

His smile was relentless. “That’s a pretty good goof, ma’am, but that uniform is too old to be a rented costume, and too well-kept for that as well…” he spent the next twenty minutes detailing every last tell that showed how she really was a Rockport officer and not -for example- someone attempting to impersonate one.

“Okay. I get it. You’re a genius. Why can a literal child help the Rockport Militia?”

“I have a fascination with crime, puzzles, and mysteries, ma’am. I’ve run out of the normal ones, so I’ve taken to reading the Watch Blotters and… well… I think I have something that might help find and apprehend the serial murderer known as Cheerful Charlie.”

Sno was tempted enough to peer at the notebook over this child’s shoulder, and found weird little sigils within. “That’s… scribble,” she said.

“It looks like that to the untrained eye, ma’am, but this is a form of code. I’m only three, so writing is a little complicated, so I used this code to write things faster. It’s a variant of Elscrypt, and each of these symbols is a whole word. I cut my time down even further by cutting out unnecessary bulk words.”

“Uhuh,” she said, doubting this in its entirety. It wouldn’t be above the Chief to send her out after a crank witness. “And what does this Elscrypt tell you about Cheerful Charle?”

“Well, ma’am, he only seems to have a random attack pattern because he strikes in the streets. I’ve plotted all the confirmed murders on a map and they all happen between two districts. The Crumbledowns, and the Meat-packing factories.” He turned the pages towards a map with a number of red ink dots.

Sno felt a chill. Seeing it like that… It looked really obvious.

“I posit, ma’am, that Cheerful Charlie strikes on their way to and from their place of employ. I’ve outlined the likely travel routes in green.”

Holy shit.

“And you want how much for this?”

“Oh, I don’t want money,” he said. “I just want to help the constabulary apprehend this offender.”

Glass Canon

It didn’t take a genius to see that Snocoun Ton, misplaced Elf from a different dimension, was not a happy camper on the moon. The Sno he was used to ordinarily had her pointed ears drooping downwards, but this Sno had hers almost all the way down and more often back than not.

She was separated from her family, from her home, from people she loved and from people who loved her. She was worried about everyone she knew, and surrounded by bizarre doppelgangers that just threw everything into sharper and deeper contrast.

There was little he could do to be concrete help. What she needed was something a little boy could not provide - a way home. What he could provide was company - however strange it was to her. Or some form of… bonding activity.

Sno - his Sno - took more than a little time to warm up to anyone. She seemed to treat time here on the moon as an unnecessary distraction. What he needed to do was help her find it necessary.

Sno was always devoted to her work.

So. He had some plans. Bonding over Steamwork Fiction - or as she called it, Steampunk - or bonding over solving a mystery. He could help with either, so he prepared both.

He found a couple of volumes of Fantasy Jules Verne, and a file of arcane activity in recent months. Clutching both of these prizes, he took them to where Sno was sunning herself in the quad. She looked close to tears.

“May I intrude, ma’am?”

She opened her eyes, stared at him, and shrugged. “I know you know me as… a different kind of Angus, but… I know a different kind of you. I thought… maybe these could help… if not help you feel better, then at least help distract you from the stuff that’s making you sad.”

She upgraded from depressed to melancholic. It was a slim sort of progress, but at least it was progress.

Three Gremlins

Angus was pretty darn good at hiding. It came from being small. He was almost due to turn seven, which meant that Nono was seven and a half. She shot up like any Beach Elf in an environment of love and care. Therefore, she looked to be in her early teens at a stretch, and late tweens for sure.

It was bad enough that she couldn’t act her age, what made it worse was that she had decided to use Taako’s show to search for her birth mother. It had been months, and there wasn’t any sign of her.

This was definitely a case he could take on. Therefore, between shows, he got Nono to tell him everything she knew about her mother. Most of it was hearsay from her grandparents, who disapproved of her, but there had to be some truths in the vile rumours they were wont to believe.

He had a few pieces of information he could attempt to confirm. One: Minmin Ton was seventy-eight years of age. If she were living and working with Humanmen, then she could easily be pretending to be one hundred and one. Taako had said, more than once, that he had pulled a similar ruse when he was underage. Some were even fooled.

Minmin Ton had a sketchy reputation ever since Nono’s conception was confirmed. The rumours were so varied and so disgusting that Angus discounted them all.

Interestingly, it was Taako’s drunken horror stories that were most informative. Whilst he couldn’t give the exact address where Minmin might live, as most of them were gentrified by now, he could give the shape of the area where she might be. In Rockport, they were called the Crumbledowns, in Goldcliff, they were called the Shanties. In one distant city, its name forgotten by Taako, they were called the Shades. Here in Neverwinter, they were called the Shambles.

Every town had them. They were the areas where the flotsam of the city tended to wash up. Because the rents were cheap. Because the landlords didn’t ask questions. Because the entire place was full of folk who were scraping to get by. Because bigger criminals called the lesser criminals who lived there ‘scum’ and ‘villains’. Because birds of a feather flocked together. Because the miserable loved company.

Places like that didn’t have citizens. They had denizens. They grew gangs like reefs grew moray eels, sharks, and octopi. It was a dangerous place. Even the little fish had sharp, sharp teeth.

Angus didn’t dress fancy to go in there. Neither did Nono. They knew damn well that, in a place like that, nobody would pay any attention at all to two more grubby kids in their braies and tunics, so that was what they wore.

Roaming through the Shambles, they found her. Walking the streets in a skirt made out of something gauzy and starfish pasties on her breasts. She had a distinctive chain around her waist and an equally distinctive amulet around her neck. Earning money with the only thing she could sell. Working a job that she clearly hated.

She recognised Nono in an instant. Looked to Angus in brief horror, and then to his ears in relief.

She said, “What happened to Gamgam and Peepums?”

Nono said, “They were assholes,  so I ran off. I’m in a better home, now.”

“Here?”

“No… With a travelling show. The dude’s nice.” Considering Taako’s stories, Nono knew what was up with Minmin’s work. “Come on and at least meet him. He might be able to help.”

Minmin shrugged. “Eh. I can’t make rent today anyhow.” She threw on a cloak she had hidden in a junk pile. “I’ll tell my story and you can tell yours.”

“Deal,” said Nono.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 2]

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Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 24 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter: The twins taking the entrance exam to get into the IPRE

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 2]

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She was clad all in black from tip to toe. Most was a black so dark that it was nearly impossible to tell shape and form within it. She wore a white porcelain mask with a carmine bow of painted lips. She was unreal. She was real. She was the goddess to whom all must answer.

She was Death.

She was not taking her sibling if Sno could fucking help it.

“You can’t take him,” she argued. “He’s not dead.”

The thing that looked like a woman tilted that unearthly pale mask that could have been her face. “He is close,” she whispered. The spectre of Death never has to shout. It has never needed to. “He lives… only because it is too much bother to die.”

“True,” said Koko, held safe in her arms.

“You’re not helping, baby bro,” said Sno. “We’re fighting for your life, here.”

The man known as Kravitz, lately revealed as a Reaper stood between them. “My Queen. Please. He has paid enough and more than enough for what he has wrought. What would taking him to the Eternal Stockade remedy?”

“He has disrupted the flow of life and death,” she whispered.

“Rearranged,” said Koko. “I rearranged it.”

The white mask turned. Its empty eye holes failed to intimidate. “You. Dare?” she whispered.

“Yeah. You got it wrong, there, birdie.” Only someone who had no emotion could dare talk to the Raven Queen like that. He could not fear because he had no love left. Not for his life, not for anyone else’s. “I rearranged the flow. Like. Weirs, dams, and canals kind’a thing. Listen. Everyone alive still has the chance to donk things up so bad they beef it. Meanwhile, if they look after themselves, they could live as long as an Elf. It’s not immortality. It’s… It’s making everyone’s race the same distance.”

The living shadow moved, and Sno flinched him away. “He’s only thirty. He’s practically a baby! If you take him before he dies, you’re just as bad a criminal as you say he is!” Sno took out her wand. She’d seen what had happened to all the others who tried to use their powers to fight the Raven Queen, but she took it out anyway. If this bitch was going to take Koko, it was going to be over her dead body. “Back. Off.”

“Why’re you even fighting for me?” said Koko. “It’s not like I could ever be happy anyway…”

There was the sound of knitting needles…

Another figure was present in this space. A figure of veils and rainbows and eternally clicking needles that ravelled together the threads of fate. If she had eyes, none could focus on them, yet she saw all.

“Do not snap this thread, Raven. My weave has changed. So many paths are altered. He is the crux.”

Those who were conscious there all said, “What?” in turn. That included the Raven Queen.

“He has forestalled the end of the world. He has reversed the path of the great ruin. We must help this child.”

“What?” said Koko.

The bristle of onyx feathers around the Raven Queen’s collar flattened and the gigantic shadow shrank. “You claim him as yours?”

“I do,” said Istus.

“Then we shall see the echo of the wound in his soul,” whispered the Raven Queen. “We shall see what can be done… to heal it.”

Sno still had her wand aimed at the black figure. “You hurt him, I kill you.”

“You… may certainly try…” She had long, black talons instead of hands. “I will not harm him. I will not take him. You have… my promise.”

Istus said, “I shall keep him safe.”

Of the two, Sno trusted Istus a little more. She lowered her wand, and relaxed her guard on Koko. The kid remained where he was, as apathetic as he had been for five entire years.

Threads sprang out of both Istus’ knitting and Koko’s body. Beautiful things of every hue, in a tangle that was impossible to follow with a mortal eye. Long black talon and elegant finger both traced the knots. A discussion occurred in a language Sno could not comprehend.

They were… bickering? It was certainly an animated huddle. Fingers pointed to one crucial spot, just as Lulu recovered enough to shakily sit up. Istus summoned something that looked almost like a crochet hook and made a few deft moves.

“What’re you doing to my baby brother?”

The threads returned to their origin point. Koko was weeping. “Lulu… Lulu, you’re okay?”

Lulu launched herself at him. “You’re back! You’re back, I can feel it! You’re back…”

“I’m back,” he said. “But… the spell? Did you break it?”

“No,” whispered the Raven Queen. “Your work is intact.”

“All I did was stop the source now that it’s no longer needed,” said Istus. “Mortals. You all think it’s all or nothing with things. Don’t. Remember that you need to stop and breathe.”

Kravitz was murmuring in the Raven Queen’s ear. Or maybe the side of her head. It was hard to tell. “Yes,” she breathed. “You have not had any time for yourself… you may go, though I may call on you if I have need.”

Koko breathed. Shaky, uneven breaths. Loaded with emotion. His mismatched eyes were heavy with tears. His face didn’t know what to do. “Mom… Mama… Mags… Everyone… Is everyone okay?”

Sno almost crushed him in her hug. Lulu was right. He was back. Back to the sensitive, caring, loving kid he had been when he became so upset with mortality that he wanted to change the entire world.

Sno had never been so happy to have that Koko back.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 3]

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You can’t pay for your heart’s desire with your heart. – Lois McMaster Bujold.

Sunlight peeked through the rainclouds, but it was the rain that made Koko aware that he’d survived the spellcasting process. His hand hurt from the bloodletting, and the concrete of the roof had sucked all the body heat out of him. Not the most comfortable sleeping surface.

He sat up, and saw that the sigil he’d drawn in blood and chalk was still steaming a black vapour where the chalk and blood had crossed. It had worked. Every being connected by love would have the same lifespan as an Elf.

Neat.

Maybe.

The spell gave the signs it was supposed to, but he had no actual way to tell if it had worked, despite watching his best Humanman friend age into decay before Koko could legally marry any given sweetheart.

Okay. So that thought didn’t hurt like it usually did. That was… a sign.

It was a sign that the sacrifice was taken, anyway.

He crept back down the fire escape and into the bedroom he shared with Lulu. She was already awake and working on something for Elf Practice. She saw him in her mirror and turned. He saw it in an instant. Her worry. Her fear. Her concern.

None of it made an impact on Koko.

“So what were you out doing?”

“Just an experiment. Dunno if it worked,” he said. He felt no need to conceal the truth from her. His fear about that was gone. “Got into some interesting dark magic, but… There’s nothing to show for it yet.”

Lulu sighed. “You shouldn’t go to classes, today. You got blight on your neck. And… don’t joke about dark magic? It’s not a good goof. That shit’s hella dangerous.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Barry Bluejeans says this. Barry Bluejeans says that. Blah, blah, blah. He’s not gonna last.” Last night, words like that would have stabbed him, through and through, with pre-emptive sympathetic sorrow for his sister. None of that was there now.

“Crass, Koko. Knock it off. Get some rest. Gods.” Some Elves hit their Turbulent Twenties by going edgelord and dark, like Koko had. Lulu met hers with a relentless determination to enjoy every possible instant. Her clothing was bright and shiny and edging towards fluffy glitter princess. Her wardrobe was almost garish. Anything that glittered. Anything that shone brighter than it should. Anything, in brief, that was ultra girly.

Koko, deep into edgelord territory thanks to that asshole Sazed, had an entire wardrobe of blacks and very, very dark greys.

Lulu kissed him as he tucked himself in. It felt like living meat touching living meat. “Just look after yourself, okay?”

“…no reason not to,” he mumbled.

*

The news that everyone could live eight hundred years didn’t spread. Koko was the only one who knew it for weeks. Months. Then little things started happening.

Humanmen on the brink of death, especially dying of old age, started to rally. Started to regain some of their vigour. Humanman children started ‘Slowing down’ as they approached their twenties.

Baby Agnes, now nineteen, was complaining that she’d be an inch shorter than her mother ‘forever’. The twins Ambrose and Aloicious were also complaining that they weren’t growing up as fast as they should be.

They had no idea.

Koko didn’t see any reason to tell them. He didn’t have any real reason to do anything, really. His ability to care about doing stuff vanished with his ability to love. Now… he did things because it was easier than not doing them. He ate, washed, and dressed because it was easier than giving Mom and Lulu a fight about it. He went to Elf classes because it was less hassle than not going. He spoke up about what Sazed did to him because it was less bother than letting that scumbag out on the streets.

He did, however, stop dying his hair. Stopped cutting it, too. It was less bother to do nothing with it than maintain a look. He stopped wearing makeup, too. Stopped giving a shit about the hands-off aura he had once worked so hard to maintain.

He couldn’t care, anymore.

He had nothing left to care with. Emotion was just… out of his reach.

Sure, he could hang out and talk and do all the other things. Pretend to be someone who gave a shit. It was all a farce. He could be friends with Magnus and share jokes with the Pithons and do all the neighbour stuff and even taunt Bluejeans, but…

He was a shell.

A fake, outward play at being normal. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like… nothing and nobody mattered. It was a big old void, and everyone around him was just…

Talking dust.

Everyone was going to live, just like he wanted. His sister could laugh and love and enjoy the company of Bluejeans for as long as she liked, and that… that had been so important, once.

Now?

He couldn’t connect with why.

Every time he tried to feel, all he could reach was… static. Emotional static. Like his heart was just a muscle to move his blood around and keep his brain alive and that was it. He let it. It was less fuss than the alternatives.

Nevertheless, he kept looking over edges, whenever he was near. Like it would be so easy to go over them and, after a brief moment of pain, never be anything ever again.

He always had stuff to do. Arrangements to make. Appointments to keep.

…miles to go before he could sleep…

Besides, he had to live a long life to be certain the spell stuck. If he died of old age at seven hundred and fifty plus, so would the rest of the entire dang world. No further consequences, because love kept growing and spreading. It was just him in a living hell and that was fair.

He suffered, so no-one else would have to.

It was one morning like any other. The sun was turning the sky some neon colours and Koko was idly watching the river from on top of the bridge. Wondering if the spell was truly worth it. If it really would unravel if he stepped off the edge. If it was really worth going to that party like he promised.

Some stranger approached. Tall, elegantly sartorial. Koko would have lusted after him, once upon a time, but his lusting days were over.

“Oi beg yer pardon, young sir,” he said in a ludicrously fake cockney accent.

“Post office is straight down that way,” Koko pointed, “and then hang a left at Nonesuch Street. Can’t miss it.”

“Sorry, Oi’m not lookin’ fer the post office. I want to ask you about somefin you did…”

Koko glared at him. “If it’s about that fucking photo of me sweeping the street, you aughta know that the scumbag who took it is guilty of sexual assault on a minor. I’m the fucking minor.”

“Actually, I’m trying to track down someone who’s violated the laws of the Raven Queen,” he said.

“Necromancy? In this day and age? I didn’t know there was a death police, m’man.” Actually, tracking down death criminals sounded like something vaguely interesting. “Is the horrible accent part of the job description, handsome? ‘Cause that might be a deal-breaker.”

He had a nice laugh. “I know you’re the sacrifice, Koko Taaco-Ton. What I need to know is… was it forced? Or was it voluntary?”

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 3]

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“Da-a-ad…”

“He’s your dad?”

Nono rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he adopted me years back and–”

“Who told you that you were adopted?” Merle was playing the fool rather well, but this was an old joke from way back.

Nono sighed as the other two chucklefucks took up the goof. This, she decided, meant something approaching war. It did not take long for the opening volleys.

“Hey. Hey. Druid… whatever your name is…”

“Yes, honoured elder?” Ooh! That one made him twitch. He had the signs of someone who’d lived through Saint Vingo’s and that was one phrase she could turn like a knife. Best to keep it for special occasions, then.

For the rest of the time, she taunted him with ‘grampa’ and senility jokes at his expense. She knew damn well that he just didn’t want to bother remembering anything, and therefore didn’t keep track.

“Can you do anything about that big door?” said Magnus Burnsides, big dumb lug and meat shield for everyone else.

“I could play ‘shave and a haircut’ on it,” Nono offered. “It doesn’t have any locks. No handles. Nothing. There’s nothing for me to do on it.”

“Tree shape it or something, I dunno.”

“Yeah, you don’t. Thanks for pointing that out, Lugnuts.”

It was later, Chaos had happened. They were scooped up by the Orc lady and ferried to the moon. Well. Not a moon. A cleverly-made secret base in the sky. Hiding the best that advanced science had to offer. Also people in uniforms and a truly gross feeling in her inner ear.

“So…” prompted Taako.

“Yes, grampa?”

“Use whatever your ninja skills are and find out some shit.”

“Oh, but Papà forbade me from talking to strangers, good gentle sir.”

Glare from Merle. “You can’t be feeling that terrible, you’ve still got a mouth on you.”

“You know they’re not detachable, Papà.”

In spite of how they were feeling, Lugnuts laughed.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 3]

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Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 20 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter: Don’t give underaged Elves processed sugar.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 3]

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If there was anything Kravitz was certain of, it was two things. He loved Taako with a power beyond his comprehension… and he didn’t want to become his own father. Standing over the sleeping forms of his husband and adopted son just… cemented that into his soul.

He just had very few ideas how to do that. As in, at all. 

Kravitz had been dead for at least two thousand years, and he’d come from a fairly xenophobic culture to begin with. He only had the shakiest knowledge concerning Elves. For two thousand years, he’d only ever met individuals with a life expectancy of only a few more minutes past their introductions.

He hadn’t had to worry about caring for anyone for so long, that he had almost forgotten how to do it at all. Loving Taako was easy. That Elf had made Kravitz do more than feel alive. Taako could talk about what made him happy.

Angus, sweet little half-Elf still scared of speaking his mind… was not that comfortable with making his wants known.

Kravitz decided that he was willing to do anything to help his little family, so he went looking for something to give him more than a little bit of a clue. Which was what had him in one of the greater libraries still existent in Faerun, following the Hunger War.

He found a book, and judged it by the cover, which had How to Care for Elves on there in large, friendly letters. He purchased a copy and immediately portalled back to the home he shared with husband and child and got to studying.

Elves have good reason to be paranoid. Large portions of their history include persecution from other races. Do not allow your Elf to be startled by Humans, Orcs, Dragonborn, Dwarves or Gnomes.

Okay. That explained Taako’s rule of Call First. Kravitz skipped ahead to the cookery section, Popular Elven Comforts. There were some involved recipes in there, true, but the book said Elves had the time to complicate literally everything they did.

The things I do for love…

*

Taako stretched and yawned and smooched his little boy on the forehead. Something delicious was cooking and Taako let his nose lead him to…

Kravitz, with a plethora of scientific-looking equipment, measuring herbs against carob seeds.

It was so adorable that Taako had to watch him for a while. Finally, when Krav stopped to stretch his back and wipe his brow, he said, “What’cha doin’ there, handsome?”

“Um. Showing you I care?” He failed at hiding a thick book under a tea towel. “You already have a secure cote or five and all the safety you could eat, so…” He gestured at some of the completed dishes. “I thought I’d try for some proper Elven nutrition.”

Taako couldn’t not kiss him. Cooking, love, and a certain amount of exertion had made his man nice and warm. His kisses were always sweet. “Babe,” he said, “You know I love you…”

“But…” Kravitz prompted.

“What fucking book were you even reading?” Taako had to giggle. “Half of this shit is festival food, and the other half are jokes we played on the Humanmen, back in the day.” He found the book. “Oh boy.” Flip, flip, flip… “Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy howdy…”

“Everything he knew was wrong?”

“Ninety percent,” said Taako. “That, and I’m literally from a different planet. Most of this don’t even fuckin’ count.”

Angus stumbled into the kitchen, following his nose. “Wow, sir. This is an amazing spread.”

“Everything sweet has been sweetened with honey or maple syrup,” said Kravitz. “I at least knew better than to use sugar.”

Taako still flipped through the pages. “You got a head start on this dude, Bone Daddy.”

Angus had selected something from the ‘joke’ section of the menu. He had half his little mouth full and was busily chewing. “I like this one, sir,” he managed.

“I know five ways to make it much quicker,” said Taako. “I’ll teach you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Dove.”

“For the rest of today, though… I gotta show this book to Lup and Barold.” Of course he had to. They hadn’t had a decent Family Roast sesh in years.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 4]

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It was so late it was early. Merle didn’t mind so much. Late shift was always the interesting shift. He could sleep in the early morning when one of his employees took over. Some time in the afternoon, he’d ferry some homegrown pipeweeds to the dispensary down the road.

For now, though, he was watching customers in the liminal hours going about their business. Like La’ming Ton, fresh from a late-night shoot and looking rumpled from some hard effort as she traipsed through the aisles, filling in orders on a list written by her kids.

The one Merle was keeping his eye on was “Young” Jason Hakniid. A kid who should have got his act together a decade ago, and seemed to be living in an eternal puberty where he got all the breaks and none of the consequences. According to his mother, Susan, he was going to be an Internet star just as soon as someone gave him a break.

Merle figured he was more likely to gain fame as yet another ratbag who caused immense devastation to an entire group of people or tried to blow up a building, rather than finding stardom. For the moment, he was more concerned about the twenty-something Humanman brat helping himself to something he was never going to pay for.

La’ming didn’t notice, but Jason was creeping on her. So Merle got in his way. “Help you with something, there, son?”

Typical of his family, Jason decided to stir trouble. “You better watch that [SLUR], m’man. Dirty [CURSE] like that’ll rob you dry.”

“Seems pretty clean to me,” said Merle. “What makes her dirty to you?”

Jason laughed. “Are you kidding me? I browse through hours of porn starring her ass. She’s a filthy [OH BOY].”

“If your looking at her ass made her dirty, maybe you shouldn’t look at her ass,” said Merle. He held out a hand, “And I’ll be having those three phones you put in your pockets or I’m calling the cops.”

The phones came out and so did some interesting words to turn the air blue.

“You’re on tape, bucko,” said Merle, waddling back to the counter. “Find everything?”

“Finally,” said La’ming. “I never knew I was adopting gourmets when I took them in…” She ferried stuff up to the counter, adding a few things she’d added to her pockets, then checked all her pockets and her bag to be certain. “Yeah, that’s it.”

In the shelves, Jason was carrying on a mumbled diatribe about dirty women and whether or not they should be trusted with children.

“He has neither,” Merle whispered. “Ignore him.”

“Already done,” said La’ming. “Sometimes, I wish I could ignore the whole world when they find me out…”

“…mumblemumble shouldn’t act like a [WHOOPS] on the daily mumblemuttermumble…”

“You have a good night,” said Merle.

“Give my love to Mavis and Mookie.”

“..muttermutter give your love to everyone with two dollars, ya [CRIKEY] grumblegrowl…”

Possibly prompted by this, La’ming added a kiss to Merle’s growing bald spot before leaving for the remains of the evening.

Jason wasn’t far behind. “Frigid [GODS],” he rumbled.

“Empty your pockets and learn to tell the difference between sex workers, there, Junior. LIke, if you got the money, a [GODS] will hand over the honey.”

Jason went on a half-hour diatribe that boiled down to his bemoaning the fact that he never got near a lady’s anatomy, and all the pretty ones thought they were too good for any decent fellow.

“Show me a decent fellow,” said Merle. “You? You’re the next best thing to pond scum.”

Insert half an hour for the how-dare-you rant.

“I apologise to pond scum,” said Merle, ringing up the purchases. “You got no right to complain, pal. You’re paying her rent, you’re paying for her clothes, and you’re filling up her retirement fund. If she wasn’t doing what she’s doing, you’d have to find something else to do with your hands.”

Half-hour opinion about how he should ‘get some’ if he’s paying for everything, then.

“Pal. She doesn’t owe you jack. You choose to pay for what she makes. That’s the product. That’s your fair exchange. Anything else she does is her business.”

Of course, he had another opinion in regards as to women going for assholes rather than decent folk.

“Son,” said Merle, “if that were true, you wouldn’t need the porn.”

“I’m never shopping here again!”

Merle wished him a good evening. Then muttered, “I wish you wouldn’t…”

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]

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The Stone in her hands said, “Hello, sirs. Hello ma’am.”

Aw shit. It was the baby nerd from the train. Wait. If he was here, what had happened to her mother? Noth that she actually cared that much, but… There had been a few moments, in-between fighting like Orcs and Elves, when Minmin actually showed that she cared enough about Nono to make sure certain things happened.

Like… not telling anyone that Minmin was Nono’s mother. Or that they were both underage.

Nono’s concerns had answers in less than a handful of seconds, because a door opened for the big reveal. The baby nerd was there, of course, in his fancy lad clothes, and behind him was Minmin. She was using the name La’ming as part of her ruse, the same way Nono was trying on Salat’krou for size. It was too complicated… and too late to change it now.

On one hand, she was relieved that her mother was still alive. On the other hand, those were fading bruises on her blue face, almost blending in there, but still perceptible. Thirdly, though, she was here. Nono didn’t know whether to be happy, upset, or furious.

From the looks of things, Minmin didn’t know whether to be happy, terrified, or furious, either.

The air started to crackle with the energy between them as they decided on a common emotion… and it wasn’t ‘happy’.

*

It had taken some time for Angus to become friends with Salat’krou, the mysterious Druid/Rogue accompanying the Reclaimers on most, if not all, of their missions. She was vulnerable to the Thrall of the Relics, but also smart enough to stay well away when it came time to scoop them up for retrieval.

There was something… off about her. Something all the Elves and half-Elves in the Bureau knew and carefully did not talk about. A conspiracy that Team Sweet Flips was somehow also in on. Angus tried training with them to see if he could work it out, or at least glean something involving a clue from their collective behaviour.

What he got was… some very good training.

There was always an Elf or a half-Elf in the stands. Watching. Supervising. Like Madam Director or Taako would watch him when it was his turn for the rough and tumble. Almost like…

…Oh…

Like a wary guardian making sure their kid didn’t get hurt.

Like La’ming was always there, always lurking out of immediate view, watching and flinching like a parent forbidden access to their child… but watching from afar…

But. Wait. Both La’ming and Salat’krou claimed to be one hundred and one years of age. Angus knew it was a lie in the case of La’ming, because he’d found her out on the train. The paperwork had a few subtle errors that most people would miss…

She and Sal could almost be sisters…

But La’ming was a Sea Elf and Sal was a Beach Elf. You only got a Beach Elf if a Sun Elf and a Sea Elf…

The clues slotted into place inside Angus’ dome piece with a click that should have been heard across the entire moon. Not sisters. Mother and daughter.

There had to be some hinky stuff happening - what, sixteen, seventeen years ago? Because La’ming would have been seventy-one when “Salat’krou” was born.

Angus decided that, for the sake of everyone present, plausible deniability had to be the order of the day. He could keep a secret just as well as anyone else on this base. Heck, he was certain Madam Director knew and didn’t say because otherwise those kids would be out in the gutter or worse.

He decided on being friendlier. Trying to give “Sal” a few more chances to act her age. Therefore, he invited her to show him some moves on the ‘agility obstacle course’ that the Bureau had set up. What it really was was a play gym and everyone knew it, but nobody said.

He waited until she was laughing with him and having fun before whispering, “So what’s your real name?”

“You know my name,” she evaded. “Salat’krou. Everyone knows.”

“No, I mean, your real name. The one that isn’t fake?”

She glared at him. They were both hanging upside-down by their knees and, for an instant, the beanpole of an Elf looked like she was considering murder. “Of course you worked it out. World’s greatest detective.”

“To your credit, it was everyone else that eventually gave it away.”

She righted herself, and said, “You going to do anything about it? Make it official? Tell the director?”

Angus flipped up to the vertical as well. “Miss? I haven’t even told Davenport.” Which was next to pointless since Davenport didn’t say much past his own name. “And I promise I won’t, either.”

There was a long moment in which Angus felt like he was being weighed in thee balance and calculated as to his worth by the ounce. Or, perhaps, the karat. She took a deep breath and whispered. “Nono.” A sigh. Another deep breath. “Nono… Ton.”

It was the best-kept secret on the moon. One never spoken, even by those who were in on it. Angus was proud to be a member of the conspiracy.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 3]

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The Lonely Hearts Cantina…

“Say, are there any teens here?” said Merle.

“You really aught’a not say that,” said Nono. “You’re giving off like a million creepy vibes.”

The Elf in the corner transmuted his table into meat. “DAMNIT!”

“Whoah,” said Magnus. “We should sign that wizard up! He just made the entire table be meat!” Aiming to at least hack off a slice and eat it, he rushed in to the corner… and recognised the Elf. “Taako? Oh my gods, it’s Taako… I loved your show, what happened?”

“…got cancelled…” he said. “D’ruther not talk about it.”

“Cancelled? But you were like the best! I still remember when you came to Ravensroost. You did this thing with the local cave slugs? Man, I never tasted anything so good…”

Taako seemed supremely disinterested. “Yeah, life goes in weird directions…”

“Okay, so… this job over here in Kreg’s List? It needs a wizard, a cleric, and a fighter, and… You could be our wizard.”

“What about the blue bean pole over there?”

“She’s a druid,” said Magnus. “Come on. It could be fun. It’s at least profitable. Last job you’ll ever need.”

The opposing party challenged them. “We got all the ones we need. How good are youse guys? I bet none of you ain’t shit.”

Taako stood up. “Oh, it’s on.”

*

“We only need the three,” Gundren complained. “Who’s the Druid?”

“She’s with me,” said Merle. “You want me, you get her.”

“Yeah, we’re kind of a BOGO deal,” added Nono.

“How old are you?”

Nono went for the default lie of every underaged Elf pretending to be an adult… I’m… I’m uh… I’m a hundred and…. one.”

Taako knew the lie well. He had used that exact lie in his own checkered past. What she needed was a grown-ass Elf to back her up. “It’s true,” he lied. “She’s a hundred and one.”

Nono opened her mouth to challenge him, then wisely shut it again. She would thank him later.

*

“…turns out Steven is a Rogue,” joked Magnus.

“I’ve got it,” sighed Nono, and busted out her thieves tools. She had the lock open in seconds.

“I thought you were a druid,” said Taako.

“I multiclassed.”

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 4]

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