you know, from TV?

She has to close her eyes and take a deep breath. What does he want from her, anyway? She’s said she was sorry, and she knows he’s still hurting from everything, but…

“Thank you,” is all she finally says. “I know I’m not your ideal partner for something like this, but…” She kneels down to start going through the boxes, wincing at how much more it hurts to do something like that these days.

“Can we call a truce, Taako? Until we get out of here? For both of our sanity.” She finds the apron in one of the kitchen boxes, tossing it in his direction.

“If not for us, for… for Lup, I suppose. She’d feel better if she knew we were working together.”

That’s one way to put it, he’s going to gripe, until she suggests the second thing. He does that thing where he barely eyes her out of his periphery, like she scarcely deserves to be looked at by him even as he knows he has to concede she’s right. “True enough, I guess.”

Still, he snags the apron and manages to turn his gaze from her so fast that he wobbles a little, clutching the wooden stick. Another thing that’s her fault, another thing he so could’ve done without. “I dunno, though,” he finally says, and his tone starts out light and then develops venom as he goes. “Feel like if you really cared about my sanity you wouldn’t’ve robbed me of, y’know, basically everything that kept me sane in the first place.”

“But what do I know? I may be too close to the situation.” He’s abandoned the useless stick, leaning up against the counter now for balance, and it registers to him out of the blue that she’d been wincing from pain earlier. Cold must be gettin’ to her bones. “Might wanna look in those boxes for some Fantasy Aspirin, though. I can’t have your old lady biz gettin’ too in the way.”

This couldn’t just be easy, could it?

“Right. Of course, I… I’ll keep looking for a way out, then.” Not that she thinks she’s going to find one, but she’d do anything to keep from just sitting in miserable silence with him.

Normally she’d argue, she’d say something else, but… they’ve done enough of that, she thinks. And having them angry at each other isn’t going to help if they’re trapped. So she channels all of the composure she can muster before heading back to the window to inspect the diamond coating.

…

The silence is getting uncomfortable, maybe talking about the situation could lighten the mood…? They’d always made such a great team, before.

“Did you find anything, food-wise…? I wasn’t sure how much of it we’d already taken to the new house.”

Taako scoffs, rolling his eyes at the question. “Yeah, you wish. Fuckin’ vultures pretty much picked this place clean, but I got enough that I could prob’ly make us a pretty decent vegetable stock. That’ll be enough to keep us warm and fed for awhile, and we can ration it out.”

He’s not oblivious to the silence and the uncomfortable weight of it, but good. If he’s registering it as something uncomfortable, she has to be downright miserable, and that can at least give him a little satisfaction. He puts his hands on his hips, then goes back to the living room where most of the boxes are scattered to search for an apron.

“You’re welcome for keeping us from starving, bee tee dubs. Like, every man for himself, sure, but Lup’d be pretty pissed if I let you die on my watch, so.”

Gold

Considered a lucky color to have, the gold soul color is never short of achieving their goals and prospering. Analytical, intelligent, and cunning, the gold soulcolor is alluring to even those who aren’t their soulmate. You either envy them or hate them, there is no in between, and they’re fine with that.

This color has expensive tastes and chooses to live in the world of high fashion. They aren’t shy about showing off their achievements and wealth, and they often lose themselves in materialistic things. Bigger and better is their motto.

Gold soulmarks can seem shallow and judgmental to those who don’t know them well. They’re not afraid to cut nuisance out of their life and don’t put up with different opinions than their own. They are known to indulge in self care often, and they avoid things that stress them out as much as possible.

[txt] To be honest, I don’t. [txt] I’m sorry, I must seem terribly dim to you. [txt] Texting isn’t my forte.

he’s led to believe its more than a lack of familiarity that makes this method of communication odd and alien to him; there’s universes and cultures between them that likely made him fall short. hopefully, taako would be understanding of that fact instead of writing him off - though he supposed taako would have already if he were inclined to do so.

bazhur had already started putting on his coat (and making sure it wasn’t too wrinkled or otherwise inappropriate ) and was getting ready to leave. perhaps he was being a bit too overeager, but how often was he invited over - anywhere, really - for a ‘party’? it was a special occasion to him, at least. glancing at the phone again, he found it rather endearing and sweet that taako considered making a baked good. he had to stifle a laugh from taako’s good-natured lack of modesty that followed.

[txt] I’m not so certain about myself but I appreciate you including me in that category, too. [txt] I was probably far better looking before [txt] Well. [txt] 💀

it felt like it added levity to use the icon instead of writing it out; he didn’t want to bring the other down or make him think about the…unpleasantness associated with his death. with only minor difficulty he was able to enter the address provided as he left. navigating to taako’s home wasn’t altogether challenging, either - but the aisles of a small market were more so ( so many options ! ). nevertheless, he was able to decide on a lime-accented wine that wasn’t too pricey, though he was still learning how to compare dust to currencies in his own world.

when he finally arrived, he sent a quick note to taako informing him, and then gently rapped on the door - clearing his throat awkwardly and doing one last glance down to his clothes, straightening them out.

Taako is still reading his texts and stumbling through when there’s a knock at the door. He sends several texts up to the moment the knocking happens, which include:

[txt] -> u doin greAt bub! no worrie at all [txt] -> hey everybod. everybody got a skullface mine just got some extra bits ov r it

He is so profound. 

[txt] -> anyway i think that stuff is supes arractive [txt] -> personalbly. i think. it’s pretty and. good bones [txt] -> mhm [txt] -> are you here yet???? [txt] -> are you here y

Then he realizes, yes, somehow Bazhur is already here. Meditation on his part? Maybe, he’ll have to be careful to shake that off, so he does it as he makes an awkward dive for the door, somehow careful not to spill his mimosa in all the hubub.

When he opens the door, Bazhur will be greeted with Taako as he is right now: deep bags under his eyes, profoundly haggard and dazed, and most importantly, with a cocktail in one hand and his phone in the other, as he tries awkwardly to lean against the door frame.

“Y’finally made it, huh bea’ful? Hello, you are ver’ nice, is this wine? G’choice! Hol’ on, I’m’na get you a thing to drink to cool you down, b--because--you’re so hot--tha’ss my joke unner copyright. No one can take it I came up with it it’s an ‘riginal. I’m mak’ good drinks.”

It’s all one extremely slurred ramble before he hands his cane to Bazhur without thinking about it, turns to go mix drinks, and falls flat on his face.

“Owch. Whoopsies! Clums’ me. Hol’ on, don’ help me, I got it. We are gonna hav’ th’best party ever.”

He isn’t even reaching for the cane; he doesn’t even register it, just trying to hoist himself up through sheer willpower.

Bazhur, meet Taako in Crisis Mode.

Phew, he knows her– that’s a relief. But those night terrors sounds scary, even down to the name! Maybe she should ask the others if they know what she can do to help, because she doesn’t want to make Taako talk about it any more if he doesn’t want to.

“It’s OK,” is what she finally says. “We don’t have to talk about it if it’s scary, but I want you to know… you can? If you want to. Talking about your feelings can be cool sometimes, that’s what Mr. Barry says.” She didn’t buy it either, at first, but she’s working on it.

“Oh, Miss Lup cooks!” Kay nods, opening the freezer. “She says I’m always welcome for dinner, and I help sometimes.” There’s a ton of actually good stuff in there… ice cream, ingredients for later… Oh! There we go, perfect. A box of those little frozen taco things! It’s kinda funny, given her current company.

She clambers up on the counter to find a plate, dropping the box in front of him.

“What’s wrong with stuff like this? This is what I eat at home all the time.”

“Yeah, that uh,” Taako starts, and realizes he’s about to finish with “is because Barold’s a total square,” essentially badmouthing this kid’s... ...dad? To her face. As difficult as it’s been for him to come to terms with the fact that those dweebs are trying to be parents, they’re... ...still trying to be good ones. It’s probably not cool to denounce lessons the kid’s learning from ‘em.

...Plus, Lup would kill him.

“That’s good advice, kid,” he finally manages, awkwardly. “I’m all good though, swear. Nothin’ to talk about!”

Hopefully she’ll drop it. Even if Taako were in older company that wasn’t, y’know, nine years old, he wouldn’t exactly be too keen on opening up. So it’s def out of the question in this case. He’s not gonna saddle some poor kid with his own problems, not when they’re barely problems to begin with. Sure, the leg sucks, he’s been tired since he got here, and trust issues a mile wide--doesn’t mean he’s gotta let other people know about it.

And that’s when he sees the main cause of his misery: some frozen bastardization of what he’s spent time trying to perfect and understand. His reaction is so automatic he nearly flinches out of his skin, hair standing up on his arms, and he literally bats it out of her hand like an offended cat, ears peeled back.

“What the fuck is that,” he yells in the most accusatory voice he can muster, before calming down and straightening up. “Okay, rule one of Taako’s kitchen: shit like that is banned. No wonder you’re so mixed up, Lulu’s lettin’ you get away with shit like that! As usual, it’s gotta fall on Taako to fix everything.”

He sighs; Glamour Springs flashes in his mind, and he steadies himself.

        that feeling that he’s missing something grows even larger as he continues to read; taako seemed very proficient with the devices here that were futuristic to himself, why were there so many errors in the way he wrote? and his way of speaking seemed even more eccentric and unusual than when they had first met. but, for the benefit of the doubt, he decided to chalk it up to things getting lost in translation - for now. 

        [txt] Thank you, I’m still learning how to use ‘emojis’. The ones made of text are simpler and easier for me to understand.         [txt] :D

         for a moment, bazhur’s hand drifted up to his face to brush over the exposed tusks and teeth; he wondered if he was still capable of smiling. it felt like he was, but he had to question if that was a phantom sensation. he put that question aside for now as taako’s texts grew even more confusing. did…he want something that tasted like limes? that sounded expensive - or it would have been in his world, anyway. more expensive than some tavern and inn rooms he’d slept in, most likely.

        [txt] Very well, I hope I’ll choose something to your liking.          [txt] I’m afraid I’ve never been a connoisseur by any means.         [txt] 😅

        that one was labeled ‘nervous smile’ and seemed appropriate in context, he decided. the half-orc knew he would have been blushing had he still been capable of it when he read the comment on his face - or what he interpreted it to be. as flattered and taken-aback by it as he was, he couldn’t help but feel an uncharacteristic surge of confidence due to it.

         [txt] Thank you. I like yours as well.           [txt] You are very handsome.

              okay, that confidence was gone! that sounded completely dumb and much too strong; now his face would have been red from sheer embarrassment. he hurried to change the subject.

         [txt] I feel the pun may have gotten lost in translation, but I’m sure it was a good one.          [txt] 🥂          [txt] Would you attach the address, please?           [txt] I am confident that I’ve mastered using the navigation system by now.

[txt] -> zatso???

Gods this man is adorbz. It should prob’ly be illegal.

[txt] -> well howd you like this one ;D [txt] -> no worrie at all my man,you dont gotta CHOOSE to b tomy liking [txt] -> if you catcch mydrift

Bazhur sure is trying hard, isn’t he. Thankfully, it’s cute and not totally lame and desperate; it only causes more of those stupid giddy giggles to come out of his mouth. The only trouble with the blanket fort now is that it’s too soft, too relaxing, and Taako’s not into resting at the mo’ so he reluctantly climbs out, deciding to keep himself busy.

[txt] -> im mak a cake. or pie? pie. s better

He’s about to ramble on about the merits of pie, but Bazhur’s next texts stop him in his tracks, and he’s way redder than he’d be without the booze, prob’ly. Still, he composes himself--part of him can’t believe it, doesn’t believe it, not with a face like this--but he plays it cool, natch.

Taako’s still got it, always.

[txt] -> ov couse i am, im gorgeous tbh [txt] -> and you too. good face [txt] -> we might b the hottest folks in thi splace [txt] -> amirite?

He clears his throat. Time for another emoji.

[txt] -> ℹ️

...Eh, whatever. That’s... ...that is one, at least.

Oh, right. The address.

It takes some digging, but Taako finally figures out where to send him, babbling something vague and then just trying to copy ‘n’ paste it into a message. Looks good, but not cas enough, not until he adds a sly “b three or b square” that he’s pretty sure is spelled correctly.

Wait, there’s something else: the pie.

Maybe strawberry...

(He forgets, in the end, about the pie. Does wind up remembering his mimosa, though. Maybe he can at least hook Bazhur up with one of those.)

        it took a bit of deciphering at first; taako’s way of speaking was so different from his own that he’d had to take the effort to look up alternate meanings for some terms. that in itself wasn’t unusual - he spoke several languages and there were still similar misunderstandings - but it was the misspellings that gave him pause. after a moment or two he was able to get the gist of taako’s message, and he had no doubt that if he were still alive, he’d have a slight blush on his face.

         he wasn’t misreading between the lines, was he? it… sounded very much like taako was flirting with him and inviting him over for a drink. and he wasn’t sure how else to read that other than expressing an interest in him. hesitating for a moment ( something felt off and he couldn’t quite place what or why ), bazhur finally answered. 

To: Taako from TV From: Bazhur Tethaltra

[txt] Hello, Taako, I’m happy to hear from you again. [txt] I would be delighted to visit you and ‘hang out’. [txt] :)  [txt] I can bring a drink, is there anything in particular you would prefer?

God, lookit this joker. Usin’ a li’l smiley face.

Taako’s not all that surprised to feel this warm and fuzzy--that’s how you know all that booze is workin’ its magic--but he’s still surprised by the giggle that comes out and the beginnings of a huge, genuine, dopey grin on his face.

TO: Bazhur FROM: Taako from TV

[txt] -> nice smile [txt] -> i bet good teeth [txt] -> pretty ... pretty good [txt] -> wow thaf so cohernfor me [txt] -> doin greach!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im REAL good [txt] ->dnt mater me, sailor [txt] -> tall taste smame. all limes [txt] -> limes? limes gorurt. limes gogra. limes. yoga. lim... limes? [txt] -> taste

Okay, what was he even saying?

[txt] -> whatev byob. bring oyur own bazhur [txt] -> wil b off the CHAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [txt] -> i love you. face [txt] -> bye

He hunts for a suitable emoji.

[txt] -> 👞

...Uh, not what he meant, but.

[txt] -> itsa a pun

“You don’t…remember?” Tears prick at the edges of her eyes, but she wipes them on her sleeve. “You, um… and I know this is silly, but you do know my name, right?” She’s just so scared after last time, and… she has to know that he still remembers her. She can’t lose another member of her family.

“You were talking about someone I didn’t know. Ren? And um, an accident, and stuff. But, for the record…? You’re always cool.” She finally cracks a smile, still holding onto his arm, and leaning against the counter herself.

“I’m nocturnal ‘cause I’m a drow,” she shrugs. “I was looking for a snack. I don’t cook or anything, so I was just gonna microwave something out of the freezer. Mr. Barry says it’s not stealing ‘cause I’m welcome to any of the food in the house.”

That’s a thought that’s still such a huge comfort to her… even if she really doesn’t know how to ‘cook’ anything that’s not made in the microwave.

Oh. Taako sees what she’s worried about, now, and he sympathizes with it enough to put his pride aside. Also, fuck Lucretia. “Yeah, ‘course I do, Kay,” he says, softer this time, though he ruffles her hair. “Just get these things called night terrors, that’s all. Don’t really remember ‘em when I wake up. It’s normal.”

He pauses.

“Would take a lot for me to forget what a li’l rascal you are, anyhow.”

He does his best not to cringe at these deetz, though being compared to Ren isn’t the worst thing in the world. “Know what? You’re right. Guess it takes someone cool to know, yeah?” He evades any clarification beyond that, obvs. A kid doesn’t need to know about his personal baggage.

“The microwave, huh?” He wrinkles his nose in mock disgust. “Well, I hope your mom’s at least treatin’ you to food better’n that.”

(He should offer to fix her something.

Taako’s pretty sure he hasn’t stopped drinking since shit hit the fan. If he’s going to have trouble with his memory, he’s gonna bring it on himself; as it’s daylight now, he stumbles into the kitchen and makes himself a mimosa.

The floor of his room is littered with bottles by this point.

He’s yet to see anything of Lup or Barry; he recalls Lucretia’s plea to take care of them with an acidic tang in his mouth. Good brothers help you through frightening memory lapses; great brothers get tanked, apparently. He’s already hideously clumsy with the hobbled leg, carting around a makeshift cane as he makes his way back to the room.

(There’s a blanket fort set up; childish or no, it helps him feel better.)

He crawls in, feelin’ loosey goosey.

TO: Bazhur FROM: Taako from TV

[txt] -> hey hoy stuff [txt] -> howzit hangin [txt] -> were u rather it hangin [txt] -> somwhe r else. like w me mayhpas [txt] -> im having a party. theres a fort and evrything do youwant. to come??? [txt] -> please respond. ddsexy [txt] -> love taako [txt] -> ps if u have any good boze you should bring [txt] -> i makee drikd very profsional.

This is the perfect plan.

No one’s ever flipping shit at a party. He’s a genius.