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domestic-harry · 7 years ago

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have you made an angst rec?? I saw your top 5 angst fic rec but do you have one with all of them?

My Bible of Angst Fics

Undone, Undress : Louis’ new roommate is shy, skittish, and flinches at the slightest sounds. He’s an art major who gets drunk on cherry wine, wears lacy lingerie, and shows up late at night covered in bruises that blossom across his skin like flowers.

Obviously something is wrong. Louis just doesn’t know what it is.

Never Gonna Dance Again : Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.

Got the Sunshine on my Shoulders : Five years ago, Harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn’t have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.now, Harry has everything he could possibly want: he’s rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. But when said boyfriend proposes to him, he’s forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who’s spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

Adore You : Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do. Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

Perfect Storm : What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.Harry and Louis choose the latter.

Young & Beautiful : Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn’t stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.

Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight : Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they’re both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

Where Your Heart Is : Louis is ready for his brand new adventure. So what if he suffers from a genetic condition that prevents him from being touched? College is going to be awesome. It has to. Karma kind of owes him right now. Forget about his overprotective mother, or Liam– his entirely too chipper step brother– or his mess of a roommate. Forget about the gloves he has to wear at all times. He’s here to expand his knowledge, write and drown himself in books – No matter how distracting ‘Hallway Boy’ may be– The obnoxious, flirty frat wannabe determined to become the bane of Louis’ existence.

Own The Scars : Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he’s supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis’ parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Unbelievers : It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Scintillating : The one where they fall in love, Harry wins the X-Factor, and everything goes to hell.

Burn to Ash: Harry is sitting there, so fucking casual, and Louis realizes in a split second he was not ready. When Harry walked out in Detroit and never looked back, he was a boy verging on a man, still only twenty years old, but there’s a man in his place now. Hard and resolute, yes, but still, for the first time in a long time, Louis can kind of see the old Harry in him. The soft, directness of his gaze, the hesitant smile he gives to Lou, the way he wrings his ridiculously large hands in his lap.He’s a little bit the eager sixteen year old puppy dog again, his innocence and sweetness resurrected miraculously, and Louis freezes in place. He was prepared to face the asshole Harry. He was prepared to meet a whole new Harry.Louis is not prepared to meet one of the old incarnations of Harry, and it absolutely tears him up.Or the fic where Harry spirals out of control, the band breaks up, and then he shows back up, five years later.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose : American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football. A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

With a Whimper : Dystopian AU. Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.

Butterfly Gun : Harry has never been much of a fighter, but—as always—where Louis Tomlinson is concerned, a lot of things stop being true.1940’s AU. Even after six years apart, they can’t forget their shared wartime childhood.

Take My Breath Away: There is a prestigious school in the British Royal Navy classified as Premier Delta - or as it is known by its flyers, 1D. These select pilots are an elite set of Naval lieutenants who are trained in the skill of aggressive aerial combat. They are instruments of war, trained in times of peace. They are dogfighters, relentless and fearless in their mission to protect their beloved country. From their lofty vantage, they are always watching, waiting, and ready to lay it all on the line.Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

Through Eerie Chaos : For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird : AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who “has made Mozart cool again” according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Ever since New York : Before the One Direction hiatus, Louis and Harry had decided to break things off, and they were doing as promised. But they bump into each other in New York and things take a sharp turn. No one knows how many times they’re going to have to push each other away until they face the inevitable truth: they’re each other’s soulmates. akaThe one where Harry writes a song about Louis and he finds out.

Gods & Monsters : The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that’s exactly what he did.

Baby Heaven’s In Your Eyes : Or a sixth form!AU where Harry is the fucked up bad boy with too many problems, Louis is the perfect rich boy with too much money and their schools are right across from each other. They meet at a party and that’s the last (and maybe the only) thing they need.

These Bountiful Silences : They live in a world where they can only say four words per day. harry meets some people that don’t want to live that way.

The King of Spades : Undercover Metropolitan Police officer DC Louis Tomlinson has worked his way up the ranks of a prominent London crime family without raising suspicion, but when he finds himself pitted against a rising crime boss with a police background and a favoured employee by the name of Harry Styles, everything starts to unravel. Finding himself in the middle of an escalating war between two bosses whose bad blood runs deep into a violent past, Louis has to be even more careful where he steps in case his big secret catches up to him – and if it does, he knows he won’t survive it.Not to mention he’s falling for someone he can’t have – whose earnestness and honesty is a bright spot in a dark world – he can’t sleep because his nightmares haunt him and he’s in way over his head, but it’s just a game, always just a game, and if Louis plays his cards right he might just make it out alive.

Wanted Most : Louis Tomlinson is a thief, and a damn good one at that. Most have heard of him. Most don’t understand him. And Harry Styles is the FBI agent who can never seem to catch him.

Never Be : The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

Coax The Cold : England, 1897. English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

Red Brick Heart : Uni AU. Harry had turned up at the halls of residence expecting fun, new friends, and maybe a life experience or two. What he doesn’t expect is a surprise roommate who’s loud and dramatic and obsessed with tea and is maybe, actually, all he’s ever wanted.

The End Should Be A Good One : It doesn’t feel like falling in love, the way it had felt the first time around, easy, simple, almost like floating, wrapped up in a whirlwind of touches and kisses, late nights spent laughing breathlessly into each other’s skin. This feels broken, complicated, like every move carries the weight of their past. Like the floorboards beneath them could collapse at any moment. This doesn’t feel good. Or, the one where Harry loses the love of his life on New Years Eve and finds him again, six months later, ready to open some poorly-stitched wounds.

Hiding Place : Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual. From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance. Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

Fading : Louis knows about beauty; the combination of qualities that pleases the aesthetic senses. He creates that combination every day in the garments he designs while studying fashion at uni. The cut of the design, the color of the fabric, the intricacy of the stitching; it all comes together to create something beautiful. When the science student with the long legs and dimpled smile agrees to model for him, Louis decides he’s found beauty personified. Harry just thinks Louis needs someone to show him how beautiful he is.

You Are The Blood : A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.

Bigger Than Life : “Boybander Harry Styles spotted leaving West Hollywood joined hand in hand with new beau, Xander Ritz”His heart drops in his chest as he scrolls down, ignoring the short irrelevant article and looking desperately for a picture. Sure enough, there’s pap shots of Harry and Xander, walking hand in hand, looking drunk and cheerful and together.And that’s—that’s really not what Louis was expecting at all.

Strawberry Milk Series : Au where Harry paints his nails and drinks strawberry milk and is too nervous for it to be nothing and Louis’ just trying to figure out whats wrong with him

Who Painted The Moon Black: Hunger Games AU where Louis Tomlinson is district six’s victor from the 69th Hunger Games and Harry Styles is district seven’s victor from the 72nd Hunger Games.

Empty Skies : For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream – making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He’s still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

Time Bomb : Or the one where Louis has everything: a lead role in a giant Hollywood franchise, a glittering new house with an entertaining Irish neighbor, and a steady, normal boyfriend who he probably loves. Louis never expected to become a household name among young Hollywood overnight. He also never expected to find something endearing about the enigmatic rockstar who keeps showing up on his back porch.

Shake Me Down : Harry’s new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Louis Lucas : Pornstar!AU. Louis is a pornstar with more issues than he can drink away. Harry is a bisexual singer/songwriter who is desperate to be signed to a major label. Zayn and Liam are Louis’s long-suffering best friends (who also happen to be pornstars, and also happen to be dating each other). Niall just wants to play his guitar.

Turning From Praise : Louis has had a strict Christian upbringing that he never realized he resented until he meets Harry Styles, a boy who lives to rebel and doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. But the better he gets to know Harry, the more he begins to realize that maybe Harry does care. And maybe “the children who God forgot” are closer to God than the devout will ever be.

Into the Blue : AU. In which Louis is Harry’s scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can’t be all that difficult to convince Harry that they’re on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

Give Me Truths : Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy

Hush. : Au where small towns suck, Louis is losing it, and Harry’s just too perfect.

Wear It Like A Crown : AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis’ teenage fantasies.

You’ve got to see yourself from far and wide : Harry and Louis meet at a very early age under all the wrong circumstances, which leads them to absolutely loathe each other for years on end. Eventually they both make it as professional football players in (very) rival teams, but are suddenly bought by the same club and depend on one another to either make it or break it at the height of their careers.With a side of sports journalist (and bridge friend) Niall, teammate Liam and wannabe football rep Zayn. They say that there’s a fine line between love and hate. That line might as well be shaped as a football trophy.

Nameless Night : For their 18th birthday, every person receives a letter that reads a simple date. That is the date you’ll meet your soulmate. Harry and Louis have different beliefs, live in different worlds and have different dreams, hopes and fears. Yet, they’re not so different from each other when it comes to love. When their paths cross, there is no doubt they belong together. Except for that one, essential difference: they didn’t receive the same date.

Chasing Empty Spaces : The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

Back To You And Tennessee : Louis Tomlinson rises to rock and roll fame at age twenty three and is thrown into a life of luxury and excess, but being on stage isn’t easy for a boy who has always stuck to the side-lines, and Louis struggles to deal with his new fame as he joins the Grand Ole Opry and is sent out on tour with names like Liam Payne and Elvis Presley. His life takes a turn, however, when his childhood role model, Harry Styles, joins them on tour, and the two become closer than two men in the spotlight are allowed to be.

OR, the one where Louis is Johnny Cash and Harry is June Carter

Tainted Saints and Velvet Vices : A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they’re forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

Stars Are Guiding Me Back : Directing the first ever season of The Bachelor with a bisexual star is a huge career move for Louis. After throwing himself into his career, he finally has the opportunity to prove himself as a director with a unique vision.For Harry, being cast as the first ever Bi Bachelor means finally putting his ex-boyfriend behind him and starting anew. He’s taking a chance on finding love and determined to do it right this time.They didn’t exactly think this through.

OR the BACHELOR AU where Louis directs his ex-boyfriend Harry in his season as America’s first bi bachelor.

Cocaine for Breakfast: Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles.

#uuum i think these are all of them #and yes i rec my own fic because i legit love it #hoity hoy #fic rec #asks

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mystery-moose · 8 years ago

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FIC: Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V (4/?)

[AO3 link]

They’ve come a long way, but even ten years after the world was saved, they’re still not quite where they should be. A whim, a missing painting, and a handful of near-death experiences help a flip wizard and his apprentice bridge the gap.

Taako does his best. Angus takes some risks. Introductions are made, bonds are tested, and lessons are learned — better late than never.

Angus changed quickly. He'd never exactly had a large wardrobe, though years of birthday and Candlenights presents from the Bureau (and Taako in particular) had given him a particularly eclectic selection. He chose the usual, and briefly thought about wearing one of his gifts before deciding against it; in all likelihood, Taako would have either forgotten he gave it in the first place, or would pretend to as a goof.

Taako was actually ready to leave before Angus, which surprised him. His new outfit was a little more sedate than the one he'd arrived in town wearing, aside from the constants of his hat, umbrella, and jewelry, while his makeup (beyond the glamour he always cast on himself) was as perfect as it always was.

"Thought you were in a hurry, Agnes," he said smugly, checking his nails.

"Not as much as you, I guess," Angus countered, grabbing his blue cap from the shelf by the door. "You must be excited."

Taako shrugged and said, "It's something to do," and Angus immediately knew he was right. He grinned as he left the apartment, and Taako followed after him.

It was a beautiful day in Neverwinter, and it made for good walking weather. Angus chartered cabs when he had to, but he always preferred to travel on foot. It let him get to know the winding streets and alleyways of the city, and kept him fit, the latter being almost as important as the former. Something Carey had drilled into him back in the Bureau days — it was one thing to know what you had to do, and it was another thing entirely to be able to do it.

Taako, of course, disagreed.

"Are we there yet?" he whined, bracing his umbrella across his shoulders.

"Almost, sir!" Angus said cheerily, pausing to look before crossing the street. Simple legwork like this always put him in a good mood.

As they crossed, Taako made a very impolite gesture to one of the wagon-drivers hurrying them along. Angus led the way down a set of old stone steps into an alley between two larger buildings. There stood an old oaken door, with a viewport and an iron cage over it. Angus knocked once, twice more, then once again. The port slid open and a pair of large, intense eyes stared out, first at Angus, then over his shoulder at Taako.

"What's the good word?" a deep voice asked.

"Never a good word," Angus replied, "only a polite one."

After a moment to glance at Taako again, the port slid closed. A series of snaps and clanks sounded as the door was unlocked. When it opened, Angus ducked inside with Taako close on his heels.

The basement shop had changed a great deal from the last time Angus had visited — he recognized a few of the paintings leaning against the far wall, and there was a bronze sculpture of an aarakocra he'd seen before, but the rest was all new. Art of all kinds littered every available surface, from floor to ceiling across the room. There were scroll cases tucked neatly alongside bottles in a wine rack to his right; urns so old the designs upon them were faded almost to invisibility; a suit of armor with an elaborate chest-piece in the shape of a blossoming rose, holding a spear with a bright blue ribbon trailing from its haft; and a large animal horn tucked into a leather bag that itself looked hand-crafted in a old tribal style.

"Boss is in the back," the goliath said as she closed the door. "You're here to talk to 'em, yeah?"

"Yeah," Angus said, tipping the brim of his cap. "Thanks, Sheila."

Sheila nodded, then glared at Taako, who smiled in what he probably thought was a disarming way.

"Don't worry," Angus said. "You can trust him. Can't she, Taako?"

"Oh, absolutely," Taako agreed, nodding emphatically. "I'm as trustworthy as they come!"

Sheila crossed her arms and didn't take her eyes off him. Angus patted Taako's shoulder.

"I'll be out in a minute," he said. Then whispered, "Don't touch anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Taako murmured, smiling and nodding at Sheila.

Angus headed for the only other door in the back of the room, past the long ornately carved dining table where place settings of a dozen different styles were stacked a dozen high. He knocked politely before stepping inside.

This room rarely changed much; pieces came and went, certainly, but there were more fixtures here that Angus imagined were kept as much because of their beauty or sentiment as their price. A massive redwood desk with a relief of an ancient battle scene carved into the front dominated most of the room, with a couple chairs in strange and unique styles sitting by the door. There was a grandfather clock in one corner, mostly hidden behind a bookshelf stacked with tomes so old their titles were long faded. An alchemical lamp with a beautiful stained glass shade sat on the desk, illuminating a collection of papers with indecipherable handwriting.

"Be with you in a sec," the tiefling said, standing behind their desk and writing something on a slip of parchment.

Angus closed the door and waited patiently, hands in his pockets. Rocco was worth waiting for; always polite, always helpful, occasionally difficult but never obstinate. It was a shame they were sort of a criminal, but then, so were a lot of Angus' oldest friends. He tried not to judge.

Rocco finished whatever they were doing, swiping their pen triumphantly as they did so. They straightened and smiled as they removed their reading glasses. "Ah, Mr. McDonald! What can we do for you today?"

"Nothing major," Angus said with a shrug. "Just wanted to know if any new paintings came through recently."

"There are always paintings coming through here, detective," Rocco said. "You know that."

"This would be a big one. You'd recognize it."

"Big as in...?"

"Flight of the Flying V."

Rocco blinked — they seemed genuinely surprised, but Angus kept his eye out for any tells. "Flight has been stolen?"

"Less than two days ago," he said. "It hasn't made the papers yet. The Museum contacted me to look into it quietly before the story breaks."

The tiefling's hand rose up to stroke across their horns and run back over their hair. Rocco stepped around the desk, glancing thoughtfully around the room and looking a little disappointed, if Angus had to guess.

"Detective," they said, turning their attention back to Angus. "I'm... speaking honestly, a bit flattered that you thought my business would be able to fence something like the Flying V, but... even if someone had come in with it, brokering a deal for a painting by one of Faerun's oldest masters is beyond me."

Angus' eyebrows rose — Rocco was polite, but they were never exactly humble. "Is that so?"

Rocco nodded, and they wrung their hands a little as they spoke. "To say nothing of the attention it would bring, Flying V is a masterwork. It's the symbol of an entire artistic period stretching back thousands of years. I'd be afraid to breathe on it, let alone touch it."

"The Curator said it was priceless," Angus said. "But if you had to fence it?"

Rocco almost looked like they'd been asked to put a price on their mother. Then they paused and looked down thoughtfully. Rocco was a collector, Angus knew that, but they were also a consummate professional. There were times those two things had clashed in the past, but never quite like this.

After almost thirty seconds of serious consideration, Rocco looked up and gave their price. Angus balked.

"Are you serious?" he asked, already knowing the answer from the look on Rocco's face.

"It's the place I'd start bargaining," Rocco said firmly. "And I'd take a fifth right off the top for the amount of trouble it would bring."

Now Angus was the one running his hand through his hair. He tried not to set expectations early on in a case, but apparently that ship had sailed, because that was very much larger than he thought.

"You see what I meant, now, yes?" Rocco said. "I'm proud of my business, Mr. McDonald, but I know my limitations."

"Yes, I can see that." Angus shook his head. "Well. This is going to sound unnecessary, after that, but if someone does come in wanting to fence Flying V, can you let me know?"

"I won't be making that deal, so all I'd be able to give you is a description."

"That's fine," Angus said, reaching into his pocket. "Whatever you can do will help."

He pulled out his notebook and a small satchet of bonds — paper money was less visible than gold, and Rocco had an account under an alias at Neverwinter Trust. Angus tore half a page out of his notebook and handed it and the bonds over to Rocco, who pocketed them in a smooth and practiced motion.

"Thanks, Rocco," he said, holding his hand out. Rocco shook it. "Stay out of trouble."

"Quite," they said dryly. "Sorry we couldn't be of more help."

Angus stepped out of the office, preoccupied with his own thoughts, and was startled to attention by an unexpected sound.

"—and I was like, 'careful, don't burn a spell on it!' "

Sheila slapped her knee, roaring with laughter. Taako doubled over cackling and leaned on Sheila's shoulder.

"What a stiff!" Sheila said, wiping her eyes.

"I know, right?" Taako said. "You should have seen the look on his face!"

Angus stifled a grin and cleared his throat. Taako looked over, brows raised.

"We're done!" Angus said cheerily. "Thanks for waiting."

"Oh, no bigs," Taako said. "We really got to bonding, right, Sheila?"

"Yeah. I'll 'member about that nail polish," she said, wiggling her fingers. "Thanks."

"You'll look marvelous, ketzile," Taako replied with a brush of his hand over hers. "Adios!"

They stepped outside and Sheila shut the door behind them. Angus turned and regarded Taako.

"What?" he asked, fiddling with a bracelet. "She's a fun lady. Just gotta get past that rough 'n tumble exterior, y'know? Can't judge a book by its cover, Ango. You should know better."

Angus stared at Taako for a moment, then shook his head and started up the stairs to the street. "It's not her I'm surprised by, sir."

Taako feigned shock. "I'm a social butterfly! People like me!"

Angus turned once he got to the top. "Not normally, no."

"Oh, go to hell, twerp," Taako retorted casually, flipping his hair over his shoulder. "You get whatever it was you needed?"

"Yes and no," Angus said, glancing down the street. "They'll contact me if they hear anything, but I doubt they will."

"You attune your stone with just anybody?"

He grinned. "Even better."

Angus pulled out his notebook and handed it to Taako, who flipped it open and shook his head at Angus' handwriting. "I don't get it."

"Remember that old interceptor book I had?"

"Assume that I do."

"This is the opposite. Sends and receives." Angus allowed himself a moment to geek out while Taako paged through the book. "Anything I write in there gets archived in a journal back at my house, as a backup. And if I tear out part of a page, anything written on that piece appears in both. More surreptitious than a stone of Farspeech, and less chance of being overheard."

"Huh." He furrowed his brow. "You enchant this yourself?"

Angus puffed his chest out a bit. "Yep!"

Taako looked momentarily impressed. It shifted into amusement as he handed the book back. "Cute. Real Caleb Cleveland stuff."

His grin turned sheepish. "I came up with it on my own,"

"Are you sure? Because I seem to recall a similar device from Caleb Cleveland and the Treacherous Trail—"

"A wholly original creation!" Angus loudly declared.

Taako snorted and put his sunglasses on. "Well, where we going now, Poirot?"

"That depends." Angus started down the street with his hands in his pockets. "How do you feel about a trip down memory lane?"

Taako's whole head rolled along with his eyes. "Must you speak in riddles, sahib?"

#the adventure zone #thezonecast #fanfiction #taako #angus mcdonald #post-campaign #mystery #adventure

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readbookywooks · 8 years ago

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. . . looked up. 'Still here, Tryrnon?' 'You summoned me, master,' said Trymon levelly. At least, that's what his voice said. Deep in his grey eyes was the faintest glitter that said he had a list of every slight, every patronising twinkle, every gentle reproof, every knowing glance, and for every single one Galder's living brain was going to spend a year in acid. 'Oh, yes, so I did. Humour the deficiencies of an old man,' said Galder pleasantly. He held up the book he had been reading. 'I don't hold with all this running about,' he said. 'It's all very dramatic, mucking about with magic carpets and the like, but it isn't true magic to my mind. Take seven league boots, now. If men were meant to walk twenty-one miles at a step I am sure God would have given us longer legs . . . Where was I?' 'I am not sure,' said Trymon coldly. 'Ah, yes. Strange that we could find nothing about the Pyramid of Tsort in the Library, you would have thought there'd be something, wouldn't you?' The librarian will be disciplined, of course.' Galder looked sideways at him. 'Nothing drastic,' he said. 'Withold his bananas, perhaps.' They looked at each other for a moment. Galder broke off first – looking hard at Trymon always bothered him. It had the same disconcerting effect as gazing into a mirror and seeing no-one there. 'Anyway,' he said, 'strangely enough, I found assistance elsewhere. In my own modest bookshelves, in fact. The journal of Skrelt Changebasket, the founder of our order. You, my keen young man who would rush off so soon, do you know what happens when a wizard dies?' 'Any spells he has memorised say themselves,' said Trymon. 'It is one of the first things we learn.' 'In fact it is not true of the original Eight Great Spells. By dint of close study Skrelt learned that a Great Spell will simply take refuge in the nearest mind open and ready to receive it. Just push the big mirror over here, will you?' Galder got to his feet and shuffled across to the forge, which was now cold. The strand of magic still writhed, though, at once present and not present, like a slit cut into another universe full of hot blue light. He picked it p easily, took a longbow from a rack, said a word of power, and watched with satisfaction as the magic grasped the ends of the bow and then tightened until the wood creaked. Then lie selected an arrow. Trymon had tugged a heavy, full-length mirror into the middle of the floor. When I am head of the Order, he told himself, I certainly won't shuffle around in carpet slippers. Trymon, as mentioned earlier, felt that a lot could be done by fresh blood if only the dead wood could be removed – but, just for the moment, he was genuinely interested in seeing what the old fool would do next. He may have derived some satisfaction if he had known that Galder and Skrelt Changebasket were both absolutely wrong. Galder made a few passes in front of the glass, which clouded over and then cleared to show an aerial view of the Forest of Skund. He looked at it intently while holding the bow with the arrow pointing vaguely at the ceiling. He muttered a few words like 'allow for wind speed of, say, three knots' and 'adjust for temperature' and then, with a rather disappointing movement, released the arrow. If the laws of action and reaction had anything to do with it, it should have flopped to the ground a few feet away. But no-one was listening to them. With a sound that defies description, but which for the sake of completeness can be thought of basically as 'spang!' plus three days hard work in any decently equipped radiophonic workshop, the arrow vanished. Galder threw the bow aside and grinned. 'Of course, it'll take about an hour to get there,' he said. Then the spell will simply follow the ionised path back here. To me.' 'Remarkable,' said Trymon, but any passing telepath would have read in letters ten yards high: if you, then why not me? He looked down at the cluttered workbench, when a long and very sharp knife looked tailormade for what he suddenly had in mind. Violence was not something he liked to be involved in except at one remove. But the Pyramid of Tsort had been quite clear about the rewards for whoever brought all right spells together at the right time, and Trymon was not about to let years of painstaking work go for nothing because some old fool had a bright idea. 'Would you like some cocoa while we're waiting?' said Galder, hobbling across the room to the servants' bell. 'Certainly,' said Trymon. He picked up the knife, weighing it for balance and accuracy. 'I must congratulate you, master. I can see that we must all get up very early in the morning to get the better of you.' Galder laughed. And the knife left Trymon's hand at such speed that (because of the somewhat sluggish nature of Disc light) it actually grew a bit shorter and a little more massive as it plunged, with unerring aim, towards Galder's neck. It didn't reach it. Instead, it swerved to one side and began a fast orbit – so fast that Galder appeared suddenly to be wearing a metal collar. He turned around, and to Trymon it seemed that he had suddenly grown several feet taller and much more powerful. The knife broke away and shuddered into the door a mere shadow's depth from Trymon's ear. 'Early in the morning?' said Galder pleasantly. 'My dear lad, you will need to stay up all night.' 'Have a bit more table,' said Rincewind. 'No thanks, I don't like marzipan,' said Twoflower. 'Anyway, I'm sure it's not right to eat other people's furniture.' 'Don't worry,' said Swires. The old witch hasn't been seen for years. They say she was done up good and proper by a couple of young tearaways.' 'Kids of today,' commented Rincewind. 'I blame the parents,' said Twoflower. Once you had made the necessary mental adjustments, the gingerbread cottage was quite a pleasant place. Residual magic kept it standing and it was shunned by such local wild animals who hadn't already died of terminal tooth decay. A bright fire of liquorice logs burned rather messily in the fireplace; Rincewind had tried gathering wood outside, but had given up. It's hard to burn wood that talks to you. He belched. 'This isn't very healthy,' he said. 'I mean, why sweets? Why not crispbread and cheese? Or salami, now – I could just do with a nice salami sofa.' 'Search me,' said Swires. 'Old Granny Whitlow just did sweets. You should have seen her meringues —' 'I have,' said Rincewind, 'I looked at the mattresses . . .' 'Gingerbread is more traditional,' said Twoflower. 'What, for mattresses?' 'Don't be silly,' said Twoflower reasonably. Whoever heard of a gingerbread mattress?' Rincewind grunted. He was thinking of food – more accurately, of food in Ankh-Morpork. Funny how the old place seemed more attractive the further he got from it. He only had to close his eyes to picture, in dribbling detail, the food stalls of a hundred different cultures in the market places. You could eat squishi or shark's fin soup so fresh that swimmers wouldn't go near it, and — 'Do you think I could buy this place?' said Twoflower. Rincewind hesitated. He'd found it always paid to think very carefully before answering Twoflower's more surprising questions. 'What for?' he said, cautiously. 'Well, it just reeks of ambience.' 'Oh.' 'What's ambience?' said Swires, sniffing cautiously and wearing the kind of expression that said that he hadn't done it, whatever it was. 'I think it's a kind of frog,' said Rincewind. 'Anyway, you can't buy this place because there isn't anyone to buy t from—' 'I think I could probably arrange that, on behalf of the forest council of course,' interrupted Swires, trying to avoid Rincewind's glare. '— and anyway you couldn't take it with you, I mean, you could hardly pack it in the Luggage, could you?' Rincewind indicated the Luggage, which was lying by the fire and managing in some quite impossible way to look like a contented but alert tiger, and then looked back at Twoflower. His face fell. 'Could you?' he repeated. He had never quite come to terms with the fact that the inside of the Luggage didn't seem to inhabit quite the same world as the outside. Of course, this was simply a byproduct of its essential weirdness, but it was disconcerting to see Twoflower fill it full of dirty shirts and old socks and then open the lid again on a pile of nice crisp laundry, smelling faintly of lavender. Twoflower also bought a lot of quaint native artifacts or, as Rincewind would put it, junk, and even a seven-foot ceremonial pig tickling pole seemed to fit inside quite easily without sticking out anywhere. 'I don't know,' said Twoflower. 'You're a wizard, you know about these things.' 'Yes, well, of course, but baggage magic is a highly specialised art,' said Rincewind. 'Anyway, I'm sure the gnomes wouldn't really want to sell it, it's, it's—,' he groped through what he knew of Twoflower's mad vocabulary – 'it's a tourist attraction.' 'What's that?' said Swires, interestedly. 'It means that lots of people like him will come and look at it,' said Rincewind. 'Why?' 'Because—' Rincewind groped for words – 'it's quaint. Urn, oldey worldey. Folkloresque. Er, a delightful example of a vanished folk art, steeped in the traditions of an age long gone.' 'It is?' said Swires, looking at the cottage in bewilderment. 'Yes.' 'All that?' 'Fraid so.' 'I'll help you pack.' And the night wears on, under a blanket of lowering clouds which covers most of the Disc – which is fortuitous, because when it clears and the astrologers get a good view of the sky they are going to get angry and upset. And in various parts of the forest parties of wizards are getting lost, and going around in circles, and hiding from each other, and getting upset because whenever they bump into a tree it apologises to them. But, unsteadily though it may be, many of them are getting quite close to the cottage . . . Which is a good time to get back to the rambling buildings of Unseen University and in particular the apartments of Greyhald Spold, currently the oldest wizard on the Disc and determined to keep it that way. He has just been extremely surprised and upset. For the last few hours he has been very busy. He may be deaf and a little hard of thinking, but elderly wizards have very well-trained survival instincts, and they know that when a tall figure in a black robe and the latest in agricultural handtools starts looking thoughtfully at you it is time to act fast. The servants have been dismissed. The doorways have been sealed with a paste made from powdered mayflies, and protective octograms have been drawn on the windows. Rare and rather smelly oils have been poured in complex patterns on the floor, in designs which hurt the eyes and suggest the designer was drunk or from some other dimension or, possibly, both; in the very centre of the room is the eightfold octogram of Witholding, surrounded by red and green candles. And in the centre of that is a box made from wood of the curly-fern pine, which grows to a great age, and it is lined with red silk and yet more protective amulets. Because Greyhald Spold knows that Death is looking for him, and has spent many years designing an impregnable hiding place. He has just set the complicated clockwork of the lock and shut the lid, lying back in the knowledge that here at last is the perfect defence against the most ultimate of all his enemies, although as yet he has not considered the important part that airholes must play in an enterprise of this kind. And right beside him, very close to his ear, a voice has just said: DARK IN HERE, ISN'T IT? It began to snow. The barleysugar windows of the cottage showed bright and cheerful against the blackness.

#LightFantastic

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