Branch's throat is still hoarse from yesterday's events so he decides to go get some tea.
He's experimented so far with his new power, realizing how much control he has over it. It seems a little tied to his emotions. He has to feel big. Try to embrace a little confidence. But once he grows, it sticks pretty well and he doesn't have to work hard to sustain it. And his clothes, belongings in his hair, and any items in his hands grow and shrink with him.
Boy, does it make it easier to get around. The world still tilts a little when he walks, the perspective shift is weird and a little disorienting, but he can cover so much more ground.
He just actually needs shoes for once, since weighing more means sharp things underfoot have a greater capacity to actually hurt his feet. The yetis custom made little slip-ons with rubber soles he can keep in his hair to grow and shrink with him as needed. To any humans, they look like barefoot running shoes, the kind where the individual toes are separated out.
(An attempt at a more classic sneaker had just had him tripping over his own feet with how unused to shoes he is.)
He's still getting used to walking in them so he almost trips at Miguel's door when he passes by and sees what's inside. It's the sight of Miguel himself that's so striking. He looks way less tense than usual. More at ease. He's about to do the usual and drop a sarcastic comment but sees the display and thinks better of it.
He missed what Miguel said in the beginning, so even though the translation magic might have translated it, he doesn't know who the altar is for. But it's so strikingly similar to his culture that it's easy to guess what it's for.
Flowers. A gift of some kind. The quiet solemnity as Miguel talks to it. But also the way it sounds like he's walked in on a conversation with a loved one.
("I got this for you, gran'ma. We can - we can still do it together," as he'd spread puzzle pieces out with tiny, dull grey hands.
It didn't feel the same as when he'd done puzzles with her. There was no joy, there would never again be that sense of security, the world would no longer sense the way it did as her hands guided his in snapping together the very last piece each time, where it fit perfectly.
They were a family of seven now reduced to one, his mother lost to a collapse in the escape tunnels just after he hatched, before he had a chance to know her, his brothers scattered to the four winds, and now his grandma snatched away from him.
But there'd still been a small comfort in imagining purple hands pressing the pieces into place with his, as he knelt there alone in their empty pod, refusing to abandon it until others in the village forced him to go with a foster family. When he was finished, he'd wiped the tears off the pieces with his hand and carried the finished puzzle on a macrame'd placemat and put it on the little table with all the flowers and gifts other people in the village had brought.
"You can keep this one," he'd hiccuped out. "If you can't do them with me you should have one of your own.")
In this moment, Miguel is not some irritating, controlling giant jerk. For one, he's way less huge and intimidating when Branch is this size. Closer to just... a person. A really tall person. Not a mountain of jerkface, not someone that cues as hostile in Branch's brain partly from the size that is combined with his attitude.
But also he's a man with connections to others - or at least who had connections to others.
He's a person that remembers someone's favorite candy and wanted them to have it.
Branch decides the best thing to do is give him his privacy. He's not really the person to offer kindness here.
But he's not used to his current size. At his normal size he's capable of traveling in total silence. It doesn't occur to him how easy it is to make noise, especially in an ancient wooden building like this. He steps back past the center part of the hallway to a part that isn't walked on as much and there's a very loud and noticeable creak from a loose board. Almost comically loud.
He winces. There's no way Miguel didn't hear that and it'll be obviously he was hovering in his doorway.
no subject
He's experimented so far with his new power, realizing how much control he has over it. It seems a little tied to his emotions. He has to feel big. Try to embrace a little confidence. But once he grows, it sticks pretty well and he doesn't have to work hard to sustain it. And his clothes, belongings in his hair, and any items in his hands grow and shrink with him.
Boy, does it make it easier to get around. The world still tilts a little when he walks, the perspective shift is weird and a little disorienting, but he can cover so much more ground.
He just actually needs shoes for once, since weighing more means sharp things underfoot have a greater capacity to actually hurt his feet. The yetis custom made little slip-ons with rubber soles he can keep in his hair to grow and shrink with him as needed. To any humans, they look like barefoot running shoes, the kind where the individual toes are separated out.
(An attempt at a more classic sneaker had just had him tripping over his own feet with how unused to shoes he is.)
He's still getting used to walking in them so he almost trips at Miguel's door when he passes by and sees what's inside. It's the sight of Miguel himself that's so striking. He looks way less tense than usual. More at ease. He's about to do the usual and drop a sarcastic comment but sees the display and thinks better of it.
He missed what Miguel said in the beginning, so even though the translation magic might have translated it, he doesn't know who the altar is for. But it's so strikingly similar to his culture that it's easy to guess what it's for.
Flowers. A gift of some kind. The quiet solemnity as Miguel talks to it. But also the way it sounds like he's walked in on a conversation with a loved one.
("I got this for you, gran'ma. We can - we can still do it together," as he'd spread puzzle pieces out with tiny, dull grey hands.
It didn't feel the same as when he'd done puzzles with her. There was no joy, there would never again be that sense of security, the world would no longer sense the way it did as her hands guided his in snapping together the very last piece each time, where it fit perfectly.
They were a family of seven now reduced to one, his mother lost to a collapse in the escape tunnels just after he hatched, before he had a chance to know her, his brothers scattered to the four winds, and now his grandma snatched away from him.
But there'd still been a small comfort in imagining purple hands pressing the pieces into place with his, as he knelt there alone in their empty pod, refusing to abandon it until others in the village forced him to go with a foster family. When he was finished, he'd wiped the tears off the pieces with his hand and carried the finished puzzle on a macrame'd placemat and put it on the little table with all the flowers and gifts other people in the village had brought.
"You can keep this one," he'd hiccuped out. "If you can't do them with me you should have one of your own.")
In this moment, Miguel is not some irritating, controlling giant jerk. For one, he's way less huge and intimidating when Branch is this size. Closer to just... a person. A really tall person. Not a mountain of jerkface, not someone that cues as hostile in Branch's brain partly from the size that is combined with his attitude.
But also he's a man with connections to others - or at least who had connections to others.
He's a person that remembers someone's favorite candy and wanted them to have it.
Branch decides the best thing to do is give him his privacy. He's not really the person to offer kindness here.
But he's not used to his current size. At his normal size he's capable of traveling in total silence. It doesn't occur to him how easy it is to make noise, especially in an ancient wooden building like this. He steps back past the center part of the hallway to a part that isn't walked on as much and there's a very loud and noticeable creak from a loose board. Almost comically loud.
He winces. There's no way Miguel didn't hear that and it'll be obviously he was hovering in his doorway.