[text] all apologies

[branchifer]

[cw: mild insinuation of cannibalism wrt to mentioning the Elf chewing on him]

[Several days after his freakout, Branch is trying to figure out how to apologize to everyone. So much that had colored his initial freakout had been filtered through a lens of feelings dragged with him from home. Just a long string of unfortunate coincidences. People spooking him by accident or through a lack of care. Escalation when he needed the opposite. Mistakenly thinking they were forcing a child to fight because said child also feared it (probably for good reason, depending on the situation Lucky came from.)]

[But mostly it's all been his own brain feverishly working against him.]

[It makes him feel a little broken. He likes to think he's worked past a lot of his issues but apparently, without the upbeat attitudes of his people, the tsking of his best friend when he gets too paranoid, and the safety of the bunker being nearby, he's more prone to losing it than he'd have hoped.]

[None of the others back home are like this.]

[But the others also can't always articulate their fear and sadness in the ways he can. Even if he keeps things pretty factual. It's hard for them to talk about negative things; they struggle even with relaying the events that have caused the negativity. Instinctually, he knows the ability to talk through things rather than deny them sometimes benefits him. Sometimes it helps him articulate complex feelings. Or convince the village that something needs to change or be acknowledged.]

[It serves him here. He could be blunt. He could keep things simple. Distant. Cold. Impersonal. Or forcibly overly upbeat. He could just try to gloss it all over.]

[But he's reckoned with the past enough to speak plainly about it, in the way some people do when they've processed a lot of it.]

[He's tucked away in one of his little boltholes as he types something up on the floating screen of the very teeny tiny watch the yetis made him. The little den has some entrances he's already built lockable doors to (just in case the place has mice) that lead to tunnels around the Pole. He's already partly furnished the place with doll furniture and has been working on ripping apart fabrics from the toys to stitches together a warmer wardrobe, using a needlekit he kept stored in his hair.]

[He keeps idly scratching his leg while typing. The myth healing is powerful but between necrotizing poison and walking on an injury so it keeps bleeding, you wind up getting a scar out of it. It doesn't really bother him that much, though. He's used to being the only one in the village with some kind of damage.]

Hey this is Branch. The guy that did all the traps.

(Yeah, I know, not exactly my best moment.)

They're all dismantled now. I handed over a map of the worst ones when they talked me down, and got the last few unsprung ones dismantled when I recovered. I really wrecked my leg running around on it or I'd have tried to make sure they were all cleared out sooner.

I'm sorry for the mess I caused. A long string of stuff twigged me out and tripped off some stuff in my head. Like not even just the monster stuff in that building.

Something important about me that you probably didn't get just from my voice: I'm very small. A little over 7 and a half centimeters, not counting my hair, and I checked, centimeters in this world measure the same amount in mine. So, 1) please watch out underfoot. I'm pretty good at avoiding big people while getting around, but still.

2) More importantly, as was probably obvious...

I have a lot of trouble trusting big people. I won't get too much into it, but the ones back home used to regularly kill my people. They knew we could think and talk and feel and it just didn't matter to them. So maybe it wouldn't have been the most logical thing for the ones here to randomly start trying to kill me but the problem is that kind of horribleness isn't really logical. It's just random and senseless.

One day the Bergens just up and decided, "hey you know what would be a great thing to do and make a whole holiday about doing?" So it gets really easy to think that if it happens again it also might just be random and senseless. Add in that I woke up to one of those stupid Elf kids gnawing on my head because he thought I was a toy and it just set me off.

I'll be the first to admit I can get a little paranoid. And it was worse here since I didn't have a heavily fortified survival bunker to run and hide in like I do back home.

[Boy does that say a lot.]

I'm not trying to make an excuse. I just wanted to explain. I didn't want to hurt anyone and I wasn't doing it to be mean. I didn't know human (and Elf?) kids did weird things like shove toys in their mouths because troll ones don't, so I figured someone gave me to him. I really thought at least someone was trying to kill me, in a way a lot of my people have died.

The good thing is I get that some of the big people here are good people now, which means a lot of the ones I haven't met yet probably are, so I don't think I'll wind up getting into that place again.

Annnnd even if I do, I at least know I don't have to rig the whole place up with traps to avoid dying. Since some of you are alright.

So there's that.

I think that was it. Sorry again.

[At least these people not being his people has one single upside: they don't know that the situation is severe enough to warrant an apology song.]

[He does decide to add one thing and decides to absolutely be a smartass about it because he's a little upset on Lucky's behalf.]

ps is that kid okay? He thought people were going to force him to fight. That's why I tried to bring him with me. I know now that's not the case but if we're all supposed to start trying to guard children and teenagers, we should possibly think like hmmmm "maybe we should make the ones here in the group feel safe first."

Just saying. That one's a little on you guys. And if nobody's done it yet for him, someone should.

Comments

[mostdangerousbird]

[ Another long delay, although not as long. It takes awhile to give the upgraded plans the full scrutiny that they deserve.

What’s returned is an only slightly updated file. Tim’s picked up Branch’s borrowing philosophy and come up with a way to make removable segments of the soundproofing by using baby puzzles at the wood layer. The pieces can be backed in the silicon and patched into place or removed with the workings of a castle drawbridge.

The movement of a jewelry box for a dual doorbell and alarm system, with an explanation that if they choose to leave the soundproofing in place, a warning could be triggered if the gyroscope reaches a certain threshold or if a microphone hits a certain decibel. AI would be needed for vermin specific sounds.

And locks - there are dozens of bullets on locks. Tim seems to be favoring rigging the door with an actual fingerprint scanning lock or keypad, but the former is dependent on trolls having fingerprints. There are five different sketches of various types of toy and jewelry box keys with things like “This is garbage” and “wouldn’t keep my brother’s dog out” and “you can find 3 million of these in this building.”

But he circles one of Branch’s locks and attaches a few images of lock picks that he wants to scale down, so they can pick their way in if they don’t have a key and need to get in. ]

I think we can work with something like this, if you don’t mind sharing the space.

[branchifer]

[Tim's additions are excellent. When Branch works on the plans for a last time, he draws a little four-fingered thumbs up on the ones he thinks are good. A touch whimsical but it's a lot friendlier than just a star or a check mark or a note or something. (Poppy's rubbed off on him.)]

[The fingerprint scanner just gets a note of "you lost me on this one though, we don't have anything like this back home and also I don't know what a finger print is." No computers where he's from. And the skin of his hands is completely smooth other than a general light skin fuzz. None of his people have them. It's usually a troll's hair and the natural curls and waves and patterns it falls in, and their hair color, that tends to be most distinct and unique.]

[However, he gets to "if you don't mind sharing the space," and he freezes up.]

[Oh no, he thought he was just offering engineering advice to be helpful, to try just a tiny bit to make up for what he put him through. Something he still planned to apologize for, too, even if he'd gotten rather intently focused on solving a problem in front of him.]

[He knows that these spaces are just meant to be a safe place to retreat to during times the outside world is overwhelming. And he knows that means they probably won't be in them at the same time very often, especially if Tim is preparing more than one of these spaces.]

[But he sees a bunker like this - and this is a bunker - as only safe if he has total control. If it's his space. If the only people he allows in are the people he decides. Because the ones he decided can come into the bunker are his people, who he's known for his whole life. A people that are so unceasingly kind they've tried to befriend the people that terrorized them for generations. And even then, it's only during extreme emergencies, when the bunker needs to be a community shelter, or during very short parties and hangouts that they're allowed in and eventually shuffled back out.]

[He's not used to sharing space. Not used to being accessible to a near stranger. Just the thought of someone else having the keys to a space meant to be a space space makes his chest tighten with anxiety.]

[Even with the bunker, there's only one other person who has a key, who's allowed to come and go freely.]

[He tries to figure out how to diplomatically word his decline. He sends the plans back.]

I'd rather set up my own bunker, if that's okay.

["Bunker" is a curious way to word it when he screams tiny woodland creature. Not burrow. Not nest. Not cottage. (Or smial.)]

I have kind of a thing about being the only one with with access to the same space. The only person I just let come and go from the bunker back home is my best friend. [Boy, Tim, bet that dynamic of pure trust for a best friend despite extreme paranoia towards most other people doesn't sound familiar at all.] I just figured the least I could do after what I did was help you with your plans so you could make yours safe and comfortable for yourself.

I'm sorry for everything. I was freaking out too much to trust it at the time, but I know now you were trying to help me.

I didn't deserve that, not with what I did to you.

[mostdangerousbird]

[ Branch is a small, brightly colored individual with a race of comparatively gigantic humanoids as their mortal enemies. Having it a bunker seems entirely appropriate. Then again, Tim spent much of his teenage years in the Batcave - which is a bunker. ]

Sure, that really doesn't impact my plans at all. Minutes to 48 hours of useI'll make mine green, if you could pick a high contrast color so I know which ones are usable.

Really, I mean for them to be more like boltholes than bunkers in how I'm going to use them. Longterm, and I'd want Kon to have access to it. There's no way he'll fit.

So you'll still have access to mine. It's a safety precaution. I'd feel better knowing that you have access to that many more.

I'm not going to say that I enjoy being kidnapped, but I've had worse. I can tell the difference between malevolence and crisis.

[branchifer]

Thank you. For wanting to give me places that are safe. And for forgiving me.

That said are you okay?! I mean with the whole "I've had worse" thing.

[Average person is kidnapped 0 times a year. Kidnappings Georg here being used to kidnappings is a little concerning.]

[mostdangerousbird]

Everyone deserves spaces that are safe. You don’t have to say thanks for it. Just don’t lock anyone else in a bug trap.

I’m good. It’s something of a figure of speech.