Every intelligent being has milestones of development. Humans have the Terrible Twos, when babies learn that the word ‘no’ has power that they can weild. Elves… have the Turbulent Twenties, when a young Elf learns about the different paces that others, and how very, very long Elven lives are by comparison.
It’s an upsetting time for many young Elves. No less so for Lulu and Koko, who left the standard avenues of education for exclusively Elven ones at the tender age of twenty-five.
Magnus, their best friend and partner in crime, was going to college and spending his free moments talking about some girl named Julia. Hee was making plans for the rest of his life.
…it was depressing as hell for Koko to realise that he had like eighty years left if he was lucky. He was slowly gravitating away from the Scene Look and towards a lot of black and a lot of smoky-eye makeup when he and his twin were selected for special tutoring.
Not only because they were Elves, and had to take their education at a slower pace, but also because they tested high and showed signs of true genius. Their mom was appropriately proud, but… Koko approached the special classes with morbid hostility.
Especially when it turned out that they were going to be taught by a Humanman.
Professor Hallwinter was a stout man, not fat, but definitely stout. He had some muscle under his seemingly permanent blue jeans. He was fresh-faced for a Human, which meant that he was younger than the twins. Except… developmentally… he was miles ahead of them. Humanmen were grown-ass adults at twenty. Elves… were closer to children than adults.
He looked over to Lulu as Hallwinter stammered his way nervously through a formal Elven greeting and an introductory speech about the expected curriculum.
He knew that dreamy look.
He’d had it once before, whenever he looked at… him.
Koko fought to keep him mind on the lessons, the how and why of experimental spell forms. It was difficult with Lulu at the neighbouring desk focussing exclusively on whatever she found attractive about the dude.
He made it all the way to first break, then pulled his sister aside and said, “You know it can’t work, right?”
“What?” she demanded.
“You and Barry Bluejeans. One - he’s your teacher. You really shouldn’t be making sweet with a teacher… Two - he’s a twenty-year-old Humanman. By the time you’re an adult, he’ll be dying of old age…”
Lulu punched him. “Just because you had a bad time doesn’t mean you have to share it with everyone else, goofus. Gods! Lemme have a daydream.”
Koko boggled. “How? You know Humanmen never last. Shit, I’ve been counting the days until that asshole fucking dies since age sixteen.”
Now she shoved him, tears in the corners of her eyes. “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN THINGS?”
“I’m not tryin’a ruin nothin’. I’m tryin’a save you from breaking your heart…” He could feel the weight of it crushing his own. He could see his sister mourning a love that could never happen. He could see Magnus’ eventual grave. He knew… he just knew… he’d live to see the ends of everyone he loved. Avi and Johaan and Magnus and Angus and Agatha and even baby Agnes, and all the Montlings and old Merle from the Bodega and…
Tears were ruining his eyeliner. Everything hurt. The whole world hurt. “It’s not fair,” he complained. “This whole thing isn’t fair. Why do some people only got eighty… or less… and Elves live to like eight hundred… Why?”
The hurt he had never wanted to pass along reached Lulu’s mismatched eyes, too. “Oh, Koko…”
Then Barold ruined it even more by asking, “Hey, are you kids okay?”
Kids. They were just kids. Kids who would live to see their whole world die.
It wasn’t fair.
Something had to be done.
Between one week’s advanced class in magic theory and the next, Koko went budget Goth. He stopped buying the bright, holographic, glittery stuff and went for cheap and black. When he re-coloured his hair, he coloured it a simple black. A common colour from the bargain bins. He bought discount eyeliner and eyeshadow. Common black. One by one, the less than robust Scene clothes vanished from his wardrobe.
Every other spare scrap of money he had went into his studies. Research into obscure and ancient magics. Throwing himself into finding out what had happened to give Elves such a huge lifespan when so many others just… missed out.
He found an answer in legend. After four years of solid effort. Lulu was still crushing hard on a teacher she would inevitably outlive. Barold was headed inevitably towards the age where he would find someone to marry and then have babies with.
Magnus had already married Julia - a woman large enough and muscular enough to bench press him without breaking a sweat - and they were talking about raising their own babies.
Even Baby Agnes was growing up. Flirting at people and getting into fashion and… No. It wasn’t allowed to happen.
Koko put it all together. The legend, the spell… all he needed was the right thing to sacrifice. Something that would last forever. Something that would feed itself. Something he wouldn’t need.
Well. He knew one thing that he would never need to use again. One traitor emotion that had hurt him too hard and he’d sworn off ever using again.
He could sacrifice his heart so that his sister’s would never be broken. It felt… almost poetic. Noble. Perfect.
Now all he had to do was gather the spell ingredients…
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 4]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 14 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
In this chapter: Magnus gives Koko a panic attack, then guards his friendo from the local Bobs.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 4]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
Have you seeen this? You should.
Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 13 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
Content warning: Horrible shitty orphanage, some gross medical stuff, implied child neglect.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
Angus McDonald is one of the greatest characters ever conceived.
Angus McDonald canonically lied about his age on Rockport Express.
I’m using this as proof and you can’t stop me.
The real question is… how old is he really?
(Source: pauladrawsnstuff, via noxcoil)
Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 12 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
In this chapter: BB Magnus and BB Taaco Twins meet
Magnus was in a comfortable pocket of warm and, just for a moment, he had to wonder how he got it. Then his noggin caught up with his waking senses and he remembered. He had a room of his own. He had a bed. He had a new family.
…and speaking of…
Dad Johaan was singing. “…the world says hello… you twinkle above us, we twinkle below…” some notes happened thanks to the pots and pans in the kitchen.
Magnus stretched in his bed just because he could. He dislodged his plushie dog in the process. That tore it. He had to get up. Not that that was a horrible thing any more. There was no more yelling. No more being bad.
He padded out to the bathroom and enjoyed free access to facilities that were once rigidly controlled in the foster homes. Soap. Warm water. Kind people who talked about how he made mistakes and how they could all work to make the next time better. He had hit the big time.
Dad Johaan was mixing up stuff in the kitchen as he sang. Magnus joined into the song. “…sabba sibby sabba, nooby abba nabba, le le lo lo…”
Dad Johaan smiled, snagging out the helper stool with a foot and putting the batter bowl down before handing the whisk to Magnus. This was the best, keeping the goo moving while one of his dads worked on the next bit.
“What do you reckon, little man? What’s the best pancakes this morning?”
“Bacon pancakes, makin’ bacon pancakes,” Magnus sang.
“Take some bacon and ya put it in a pancake,” Dad Johaan joined in.
Papa Avi emerged, all rumpled and hanging on to his PJ bottoms, “Bacon pan-caaaaaaakes…” He found the drawstring at last and did it up. “I have to say that there is such a thing as too much bacon, short stuff. You gotta have two berry pancakes for every bacon pancake you eat, buddy.”
“You need vitamin C,” added Dad Johaan. “I didn’t go to a nutrition course to have you, only to feed you bacon twenty-four sev.”
Magnus said, “I can eat like twenty-one pancakes,” as if he really could. He knew what his dads were going to say, so he joined the chorus. “One at a time, little man.”
“I gotta shower, you okay, babe?”
“I think I can survive,” said Dad Johaan. The instant Papa Avi left his sight, he play-acted at growing weak. “Oh no. The love of my life is gone from my sight. My vitality… fading…”
A voice from the bathroom, “Oh give over!” Water started running and Papa Avi started rendering I Will Always Love You. In this case, render, as in to tear asunder. Papa Avi had a terrible singing voice.
That didn’t stop Dad Johaan smiling goopily at it anyway. Magnus was allowed to help with the pancakes, but not the bacon. It spat and neither of his dads wanted him getting fat burns from that. That didn’t stop Magnus hovering like a vulture as the bacon fried inside puddles of syrup.
When Dad got stung, all he had to say was ‘ow’. Magnus had only wondered out loud, once, how much it could really hurt. He’d made the mistake of saying that it couldn’t hurt more than the cigarettes had and Dad had cried almost all day. When Papa came home, he’d heard from Dad and then there had been hugs all night.
Magnus decided not to mention what the old foster homes had done with him, any more. His dads were happier that way.
The bacon pancakes were slightly smaller than the berry ones, and Magnus wanted to complain about that. Bacon was his favourite food group, after all. He wanted to complain, but he wasn’t brave enough to do that yet.
Papa came out again, this time crisp in a fresh uniform and messing with his tie. He looked at the yield and said, “Those bacon pancakes are a little small. Better let him have an extra one when he’s nearly done, eh?”
“YAAAAYYY!” Magnus jumped at the news. Any morning with extra bacon was a good one.
Dad had a travel mug of coffee and a breakfast burrito for Dad, and the lunchbox they had all packed that night. It had some special envelopes inside, with messages from Dad and Magnus each.
“Go get the bad guys, Papa.”
“Try my best, squirt,” Papa ruffled his hair and picked Magnus up for the best bit of every morning. The squish.
Dad and Papa hugged, with Magnus squished in the middle and the world was going to be wonderful for a whole ‘nother day. The only thing that made it better was making sure all the cheeks were smooched, which was another morning ritual.
Breakfast and school and all the other stuff was okay, but this? This was the best.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 2]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
The coffeepot in the fantasy percolator had been allowed to boil almost to dry. Merle stared as Taako refreshed the coffee grounds and filter, and filled the boiler with more water. It was nine at night, and Taako shuffled towards his bedchamber.
“Uh. You didn’t clean out the pot,” said Merle.
“Shyeah. Duh. I want some really strong fuckin’ coffee, my dude.”
“That’s gonna be almost boiled dry by the morning,” he warned.
“That’s my plan.”
He got up early enough to see Taako stumble out of bed and refresh the grounds and filter again before adding even more water to the fantasy percolator before re-crashing onto the couch.
“Just how many more times are ya gonna do that?”
Taako gave him the finger.
Snocoun Ton, rooming with Magnus for reasons, emerged from her bunk and busied herself with some seemingly random things. A middle-sized pot, some tea leaves, herbs and spices, a healthy chunk of lemon. All of that went into the pot and she added a lot of water.
She set that on the hotplate to boil.
“That’s… not how you make tea,” said Merle, feeling weak at the knees.
The fantasy percolator finished its current round and Taako rose from his near-coma. He stirred up the hellaciously caffeinated mess and poured the resultant thick, black mess into a large mug with the legend, Yes, I do need this much coffee.
Next, while Sno was poking herbs in her boiling water, he approached the sugar bowl. He extracted two lumps with the delicate tongs and poured the rest of the cubes carefully into his pitch-black mud.
Sno’s concoction was so aromatic that it offended the wallpaper, and she poured hers into an equally large mug that read, Warning: undertow.
Neither Taako nor Sno looked at each other as both raised their mugs to their mouths, and drank.
The world closed in as Merle’s legs gave out from under him. He never felt the fall. All he knew was that his head stung and Magnus was leaning over him. “You okay, old man?”
“I dunno what’s got him fussed,” said Taako from the kitchen as he put on a new pot of coffee for the same cycle all over again. “I’m just havin’ my coffee an’ Sno’s having her fuckin’ tea.”
“…the horror…” Merle gasped. “…the horror…”
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 2]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 9 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
In this chapter: more of the aftermath of the luume episode that made Taako a deity.
TAZ Prompts Remaining: ONE
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]
[AN: You did read the same story I wrote, right? I can’t cement that kind of Lucas with Sno. However…]
She wasn’t his type. He knew it. She was a ‘column’ while he preferred an ‘hourglass’. Even then, the ones in meatspace were never ‘hourglass’ enough for his fancy. If only he could make animation real… But that was still beyond his scientific grasp.
In the meantime, real women confounded him. They never had the same rule set from girl to girl. They never followed The Game, they never acted like they should. They were never predictable.
Especially this one. Snocoun Ton. She was the exact opposite of everything he wanted in a woman. Flat where he expected shape. Tall where she should have been short. Possessing opinions where she should have been agreeable.
Yet he could not stop thinking about her.
That low fire in her eyes, like a wild storm. Energy waiting to be unleashed, and held back by the thinnest of facades. She exuded unresolved tension and he could sense that it was aimed at him.
He tried to take his mind off it by watching some previews on his computer. She’d never call him back. They never did, and he never minded. Usually, a good half hour’s exposure to proper women - animated women - would scour his brain clean of even thinking about the lady he had been with that night.
Not this time.
This time, the previews included one about history. Sort of. Historical fiction about the xenophobia wars and a Beach Elf torn between two or more loves. The dates couldn’t be right. The Xenophobia wars ended four hundred years ago, but this was set four hundred years ago and was about how they started.
Lucas did some googling and journeys through an extended wiki walk and learned…
She had been right.
She looked just like the maiden in the anime…
The producers had done a lot of homework to set this one in a plausibly accurate time and place. Where things could have taken a different path, if only…
In this show, Fires in Elfington, they bragged about how it was the first Humanman drama to cast Elves in a sympathetic light inside of five hundred years. Lucas absorbed all the extra material they had around on the internet and even managed to catch the premier episode.
He was even more enraptured than before. All they had to do was change the heroine’s hair from deep plum to a fiery red and she would be the spitting image of Snocoun Ton.
Inspired, Lucas decided to see what was available online about her. Just to sate his curiosity and realise that she was not an animated girl come to life.
Oh shit. She might be.
She fought injustice at every turn. Just like the animated Syn’amon. She struggled against oppression and prejudice, just like Syn’amon. She did everything she could for lost, abandoned, or orphaned kids. Just like Syn’amon. She let opportunities for advancement slide by for the greater good… just like Syn’amon.
By three AM, Lucas had seen the second episode of Fires in Elfington, and had developed a raging crush. Not just for Syn’amon, but also for her true flesh doppelganger, Snocoun Ton.
The next dawn saw him scouring the internet for material - any material - about episode three. He was so desperate that he was trawling through the fanfiction already springing up about the show.
Then he found an interesting article. The show creators had looked to real world examples for their characters and… there was a picture of Officer Ton with a small child carried in her coat right next to a picture of Syn’amon nursing a bear cub in a similar pose.
He read every word and saved it into his growing fandom file. No wonder Officer Ton looked like Syn’amon. She was Syn’amon.
When he finally went to sleep, he dreamed of her. Skipping through the mangroves like her animated counterpart, fighting evil. Righting wrongs. Rescuing him and falling in love…
It was a glorious dream.
It was so influential on him that he felt he had to make amends. A big bunch of flowers, for sure. Ladies loved flowers.
He tracked down her precinct offices and asked to see here as soon as it was convenient. She was likely out, busy being a hero. Whilst not exactly rescuing bear cubs from forest fires, she was certainly rescuing the weak and helpless from the forces of terror. Even if they were the more mundane ones, like domestic abuse or fights between different adults. Or saving them from gangs or kissing some guy by the vending machines - what?
He was a stringbean of a fellow. Dark grey skin, pale, pale blond hair.
She looks so different when she smiles like that… he thought. Then, as his brain caught up with current events, Is that my executive assistant?
Officer Ton noticed him, and the smile fell off her face. In an instant, a professional mask was in the place of genuine emotion. It was an expression eerily similar to the one she had worn on their date, the previous evening.
Realisation hit him like a bucket of cold, stale vomit. Oh… He offered the flowers anyway and said, “I came to apologise for being a jerk,” he said. “You were right. You were right about everything. I’m sorry.”
“Uh. Thanks,” said Officer Ton.
Mukaara was wearing casual nerd, instead of the suit he wore on the job. His T-shirt said, I’m not stupid, I’m not expendable, and I’m not going. The jeans he had on were headed slowly towards being disreputable. “Is there a problem at the office, sir?” he said.
Lucas fought with his newfound ethics. He could make one up that would keep Mukaara busy for hours on end, and therefore gain some time with Officer Ton, but… She would not appreciate the ruse. “No,” he said, realising that she could also plausibly kick his ass as well. “I just… I just came to say sorry. I’ll be… working on some stuff by myself. You know how it goes.”
“Have fun, sir,” said Mukaara.
Lucas spent a moment in heartsore agony watching his assistant kiss his crush. Her ears actually flirted with being veretical when she was with him. At all other times, they were pointed down. She was happy. With Mukaara. Not him. “You too,” he said, and meant it.
It was a strange creature that shambled back to his lab to noodle on his random projects. He looked like Lucas Miller, he answered to that name. In all ways but the metaphysical, he was Lucas Miller. Except…
Something enormous had changed. Something profound had altered his soul.
He had found… courtly love; and he was going to use it to change the world.
But first… he just had to order that Syn’amon body pillow cover from Geeklord dot com.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 2]
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]