Branch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchifer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nightlogs2023-09-24 09:59 pm
branchifer) wrote in nightlogs2023-09-24 09:59 pm
Entry tags:
Girl Talk [Locked to Stacia]
Who: Locked to Branch and Stacia
What: Bonding after Stacia takes care of him while he rests
Where: Stacia's room
When: Backdated to 24 hours after Branch terrorized the Pole
Warnings/Notes: cw: PTSD kinda energy. Possible talk about the Bergens so cw: cannibalism as well.
[Branch sleeps fitfully, enough that it's noticeable. The occasional little start awake, momentary concern about being somewhere other than his bed at home or in the pod of a friend during some kind of sleepover, his heart leaping in fear at realizing he's in some kind of big person bag - and then remembering he agreed to this.]
[He was too injured to risk not being watched over and without doors over the entrances to the boltholes, he was still scared an Elf would grab him again, even if he put down a little discouragement in the form of thumb tacks.]
[Each time he wakes up Stacia still hasn't hurt him and isn't in the middle of hurting him. She's usually just doing things around the Pole, like humming to himself as she explores, so every time he starts awake he settles back down again.]
[It's some good ol' fashioned hyper-vigilance.]
[The last time he wakes up, he's finally a bit more rested, so the lethargy of myth healing doesn't draw him back asleep.]
[...Also he wakes up with a little yell because he had a nightmare, then jumps out of the bag in a little roll that ends in him bouncing upright on his feet, ears twitching around like little radar dishes to listen for threads, holding out both arms as if expecting a predator from other side.]
[There are no predators. There are no hands reaching for him. There are no teeth.]
[When he realizes there's no threat, just Stacia sitting harmlessly over on her bed with a bottle of nail polish, he breathes out a sigh of relief. Then goes:]
...Ow.
[And rubs at his leg, hopping on the other foot. It didn't break open again but that hurt.]
What: Bonding after Stacia takes care of him while he rests
Where: Stacia's room
When: Backdated to 24 hours after Branch terrorized the Pole
Warnings/Notes: cw: PTSD kinda energy. Possible talk about the Bergens so cw: cannibalism as well.
[Branch sleeps fitfully, enough that it's noticeable. The occasional little start awake, momentary concern about being somewhere other than his bed at home or in the pod of a friend during some kind of sleepover, his heart leaping in fear at realizing he's in some kind of big person bag - and then remembering he agreed to this.]
[He was too injured to risk not being watched over and without doors over the entrances to the boltholes, he was still scared an Elf would grab him again, even if he put down a little discouragement in the form of thumb tacks.]
[Each time he wakes up Stacia still hasn't hurt him and isn't in the middle of hurting him. She's usually just doing things around the Pole, like humming to himself as she explores, so every time he starts awake he settles back down again.]
[It's some good ol' fashioned hyper-vigilance.]
[The last time he wakes up, he's finally a bit more rested, so the lethargy of myth healing doesn't draw him back asleep.]
[...Also he wakes up with a little yell because he had a nightmare, then jumps out of the bag in a little roll that ends in him bouncing upright on his feet, ears twitching around like little radar dishes to listen for threads, holding out both arms as if expecting a predator from other side.]
[There are no predators. There are no hands reaching for him. There are no teeth.]
[When he realizes there's no threat, just Stacia sitting harmlessly over on her bed with a bottle of nail polish, he breathes out a sigh of relief. Then goes:]
...Ow.
[And rubs at his leg, hopping on the other foot. It didn't break open again but that hurt.]
no subject
[Buuut then he sees he jumped out near a knife block. There is a bit of a reflexive full body shiver as he thinks of Chef slamming her cleaver down on the table in front of him, a mere millimeter from his face, so close he ran into it. He uses a pot hook to swing with his hair up into some of the open shelving, near the plates. It's not near any knives or ingredients, it's not over the stove itself where he could be easily pulled down and tossed in.]
[He's still potentially within reach, though, if she walks sideways. He doesn't hide entirely. It shows there's a little bit of trust, the fact he's not retreating so far up she'd have to transform or get a chair to reach him.]
[He sits on the edge, legs dangling over, occasionally unconsciously doing tiny kickyfeets.]
I don't know much about...how any of the people here eat.
[It's not exactly like he's ever been eager to venture into the cupboards of the Bergens to see what else they eat besides troll and the humans are entirely different from the Bergens and the yetis and Elves are entirely different from the humans.]
Maybe eggs? I eat a lot of hummerbee eggs. They're a lot like big bird eggs but small. Uh, and some kind of greens? Do you think they have moss?
...If that's okay.
[He can't cook anything himself with a stove this big and after all that healing, his body is craving something a little more sustaining than tons of refined sugar.]
no subject
I can definitely scramble an egg. Or multiple eggs I suppose, I'm not sure what your appetite is like. I don't know whether the Yeti stock moss in the kitchen, but I'm sure I can find some vegetables. Or mushrooms? I'll check with you before I put anything in; I know humans eat a lot of stuff that's toxic to other species.
[She smiles wryly.]
And that's aside from when we poison ourselves a little for fun.