welcome to the party, pal

[branchifer]

Who: Branch, Miguel, Tim, Boba, Dan, and Stacia
What: The supply and prisoner exchange
Where: The emptied out workroom floor
When: After all of Branch's chaos.
Warnings/Notes: Some blood, eventual cw mentions of cannibalism probably when Branch is hashing it out with Dan and Stacia, I'll put warnings in the subject.

[It's going to plan. And the heightened chaos is making it exactly as distracting and chaotic a situation as he was hoping for. The floor is cleared and there are people leading Elves and yetis to areas they've cleared, but traps can still be heard going off, sometimes randomly. Occasionally there's the angry argleblorgleblorg of a yeti getting chili powder exploding out of an air cannon to their face.]

[In some areas where traps were already set off and cleared, somehow (read: thanks to his 14-year-old secret accomplice) they've been reset, only to go off again.]

[It leaves things nice and unsettled and distracting.]

Comments

[orivodika]

[Boba takes a few steps back so he can have both Tim and Miguel in his line of sight.

Sure he doesn't have to fight, because Boba's going to believe the adults that are keeping him trapped here in the first place. He knows how it goes, he saw it in Jabba's Palace. He either fights or stays imprisoned. Or worse.]

Then we should be able to leave, right?

[He needs to get to the globe. If only Miguel would come closer. He would have to leave Branch behind but-- he shouldn't feel bad about that. He doesn't feel bad about that.

No friends, no enemies. Only allies and adversaries.]

[ninjavampire]

Letting a kid get lost who knows where isn’t helping anyone involved, including you.

[ He can’t be the only sane one here, right??

The kid running off after the entire mess in the theater seemed like a terrible idea to him. Boba needed a bag lunch, not an adventure. ]

I’m saving us all a world of trouble, because who’re gonna be the ones who have to scramble when you get caught or hurt out there?

It isn’t gonna be Tiny sitting in the net, I’ll say that much.

[branchifer]

[Branch is...not reacting well to being trapped. He pleads to Tim.]

Please let me go, they're going to kill me!

[He fights first, trying fruitlessly to lift the frame of the net with his hair but he can't. The handle is buried under several pounds of sand. Even with his hair being stronger, he can't lift it.]

Let me go!

[Then he goes to the very end of the net, to tray to brace his hair against both sides to rip the mesh, but it's one of those butterfly nets that's more rounded than tapered at the end. His hair, even extended to full length, isn't really long enough to brace against both sides. Its not strong enough to rip it with what little leverage he has.]

Just let me go - just let me -

Just let me -

[He's so tired.]

[And there's no way out. It's over.]

[He's been trapped before but that was at a time where he'd lived most of his life emotionally shut down and closed off. He's come out of his shell since then. Let himself care about others. Let himself be happy. Let himself feel.]

[That means feeling the fear more strongly. That means he has something to lose. Friends. A community that cares about him. An actual life instead of a tepid existence of routine daily survival.]

[Her.]

[And most importantly of all, the last time he'd been captured he hadn't been alone. Poppy had been there. Even when the whole village was trapped and about to be killed, she'd been there. And after he'd broken his 20+ years of silence and sung to bring her hope, she'd managed to bring back hope to the rest of them.]

[And that hope hadn't been misplaced. Bridget had come through for them, and shown them that at least some Bergens could have a heart.]

[He's alone now. And unlike when Miguel grabbed him, when he thought he'd possibly die, he has time to marinate in the hopelessness and the loss. He leaves the tapered end of the net and trudges back to the center ring. The white netting is dotted with little blood stains where he stepped.]

[He drops to his knees, expression hollow, and takes something out of his hair - a little square of glossy paper, with hints of blue and pink, the vague shapes of two figures.]

[His voice is raw when he speaks again, and barely above a whisper.]

It's not fair. I was finally happy.

[But life isn't fair, is it. He's known that for as long as he can remember. He looks at the picture one last time, tears in his eyes, and then tucks it back in his hair, because he wants it to just be his. Nobody doing this to him is allowed the privilege of seeing her face.]

[Then he bows over against the floor, hands threaded into his hair so tight he's almost pulling it out. And then that is all the feeling he allows. When he pulls himself back up, kneeling there, his expression is now blank. He looks like he's completely emotionally shut down - and something peculiar happens.]

[The color drains out of him. Not the way it does to someone about to pass out, because it doesn't leave his skin paler. The color drains from him like he's turning grayscale, starting from his head and working downwards. The blue highlights in his hair fade so his hair is pure black, blue skin turns to gray. The color even drains from his clothes, the green of his shredded leaf vest, and the patches in his shorts turning sad and dull.]

[Then he falls back to sit instead of kneel, wraps his arms around his knees, and buries his face in them.]

[mostdangerousbird]

[ He’s not heartless. Maybe he’s a little numbed to people having meltdowns after they’ve been caught, but there’s a difference. This isn’t raving as one’s being tied onto a stretcher about how they’re going to get you and your dog.

Tim crouches down when Branch drops to his knees. This is - this is devastation, not anger. Tim would know.

Because it reminds him of Victor Fries. (Liar.) ]

They’re not going to kill you. You’ve barely done anything wrong, and I’m only holding you here until you can make the decision with a cool head. And without major blood loss.

[ And without… whatever this color change is. This must be where the idea that trolls turn to rocks comes from. ]

You can -

[ Be happy. But he doesn’t want to make promises that he can’t keep, and Branch will see through it. Hell, Tim sees through it. If you can’t even lie to yourself… ]

You can still decide to leave once you’re in decent shape. And I’m not leaving until you tell me too. Actually, I probably won’t leave then either.

[branchifer]

[He doesn't believe him. And there is a part of him that wants to turn his back. It'd be considered deeply insulting to his own people to just turn his back on someone talking to him. The visible rejection.]

[The same way it's insulting to stomp on a party invite.]

[But he doesn't have the energy to even do that.]

[He just briefly glances up at him with a dull expression and then lowers his face again. He doesn't have the energy to react and he's given up.]

[Later on, though, he will remember this. Alongside all the trying to coax him into understanding he's safe, even as he held Tim captive. Alongside insisting that there are people that won't let anyone hurt him. He'll remember that Tim offered that protection and then refused to leave him.]