Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

King Peppy was usually one of the most positive trolls in the village, a distant second to his daughter Poppy, but today he sat morosely in front of his scrapbooks.

Today was the 10-year anniversary of the trolls’ escape from Bergen town, (and the 10-year anniversary of losing his oldest daughter) but this only served to remind the king of how badly things could turn if the Bergens found them. Peppy couldn’t stop thoughts of a Bergen invasion from running rampant through his head.

“Hi Dad!” Poppy said, interrupting his train of thought, as she rushed through the pod. “I’m heading over to Satin and Chenille’s pod to get ready for tonight!”

Peppy plastered a wide smile on his face. “Oh- uh alright! See you later, Poppy! I love you.”

“Bye, Dad, love you too! I’ll see you at the party!” Poppy called as she raced off.

Right. The party. Every year since the trolls has escaped, they threw a party to celebrate. And normally Peppy could ignore his misgivings and jump right into the festivities, but this year Sky Toronto was supplying fireworks. This meant Peppy was the tiniest bit worried about the Bergens finding them. And how would he handle it if they did? The village’s population was still recovering from being kept as livestock. They couldn’t survive another decade of Trollstices.

Occasionally the thought of the other trolls’ tribes crossed his mind. What if he sent some trolls to reconnect with them, gain their support in case of an attack?

But just as quickly as the thought came, he dismissed it. Who the hair could he send? Even if he found a troll willing to go, the chances are they wouldn’t make it to the deep forest! The only troll he knew that had successfully ventured into the deep forest and returned was far too young to send.

So Peppy gently closed the cover of the aging scrapbook, and slid it back into his hair. He kept it on him at all times; it was the only remaining scrapbook detailing the other tribes that they had left.

Who could he send?

—————————————————

Poppy was having a great day! She led the morning song, got to try a new type of cupcake, (banana with cinnamon cream cheese frosting!!) AND she was going over to her friends’ house to get ready for the biggest party of the year! This was going to be even better than Chug a Jug of Milk day.

She burst into the twin’s pod and was greeted with cries of “Poppy!”

“Guys! I missed you!” Poppy hadn’t seen her friends since the morning song and was dying to to-

Ding! Hug time.

Perfect timing! The group hug was just what she needed. As they broke apart, Satin said, “So Poppy, before we start getting ready, Creek said he wanted to see everybody first. He said he has something really important to do, and he needs everyone.”

“Oooh, did he say what?” Poppy asked, buzzing with excitement. She loved all of her friends, but she thinks Creek might be her favorite. Not that she would tell anybody that! Poppy didn’t want to hurt any feelings.

Chenille shook her head, “Nope, buuut he did say he especially needed you! He said to meet by the purple glitter mushroom.”

The pink skinned troll jumped to her feet, followed by the twins, and together they swung down from the pod.

They found Creek meditating while Biggie, DJ Suki, Smidge, Guy Diamond, Fuzzbert, and Cooper played a game of exploding glitterball nearby. Exploding glitterball was like dodgeball, but the balls would explode when they hit something and were filled with glitter. Making them even more fun! Satin and Chenille immediately joined in, using their hair to launch the balls at the others.

“Ah, Poppy, hello there.” Creek said, as he rose. “Might I just say, your aura is looking especially bright today, in spite of yesterday’s run in with the village grump.”

Yesterday, the Snack Pack had gone with Poppy to deliver her invitation for the 10-year celebration party to Branch. It had… not gone well. The grey troll had threatened to burn it! He had also yelled at Poppy for bringing so many trolls to where his bunker was located. It had taken two songs to cheer her up.

“Why thank you, Creek!” Poppy said, curtsying. “I was a bit upset, but I’m just so excited about the party tonight. And I’m going to get Branch to accept an invitation eventually!” It was one of her biggest goals, after all she was the princess; she needed to make sure all of her future subjects were happy. Branch made it a little harder to do that, but that just meant she would be even happier when she finally did it!

“Well, what happened yesterday is actually why I wanted to talk to you.” Creek said taking Poppy’s hand. “What Branch did wasn’t okay, and I think that just shows how bad his negativity is getting. Don’t you?”

DJ looked over, from where she was playing and spoke up, “It was totally uncool of him. I think Creek is right- I mean c’mon, what kind of troll threatens to BURN an invitation?!” She shrugged and walked over to the two. She exchanged a glance with Creek, who nodded encouragingly. “I don't know why he’s so grumpy, but he- well, he shouldn’t be.”

Poppy nodded slowly. “You’re right, it’s not very nice of him, but what would we even do about it? I’ve tried everything to make him be happy again.” She really had tried. Poppy remembered every invitation she had given him, mostly because Branch destroyed them in some way before running off.

“Some trolls just don’t want to be happy, Poppy, and so they shape their environment to mimic their own inner state. This can lead to a spiral of negativity.” Creek said. He had been reading his dad’s psychology book in order to sound as smart as possible. “I believe the problem is that Branch spends all day isolating himself in a bunker that is as grey and boring as himself.”

Creek didn’t really know if this was the case, but it gave him an excuse to set the Snack Pack on Branch under the guise of positivity. He’d been planning this since Poppy led them to Branch’s bunker, and tonight was the perfect night to strike. Branch was away, and he’d managed to get the bunker code from watching Branch while camouflaged.

“That… makes sense. But how would we even get in his bunker?” Poppy could agree that Branch needed to be in a more happy place, but how would they do it?

“Leave that to me, we just need to figure out how we should make the bunker more positive.” Creek said. He didn’t want to be the one to suggest how to do it, because someone else coming up with the idea meant he could pin the blame on them.

Just then, one of the balls exploded, throwing Smidge back, completely covered in glitter.

“Smidge!” They cried, as Poppy dove forward and caught her before she hit the ground. Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

“That was so scary!” Said Biggie faintly. “I’m glad no one got hurt.”

“Thanks Poppy! And don’t worry Biggie, a little glitter never hurt anyone” said Smidge, jumping to her feet and brushing off her hands.

“Very true, Smidge. Glitter is such a happy thing, it brightens anything up. Doesn’t everyone agree?” Creek said warmly.

Creek could almost see the gears turning in Poppy’s head as the others chorused their agreement and started a song. He joined in reaching a hand out to Poppy.

After the song, Poppy turned to the group and said, “I have an idea for how to make Branch’s bunker happier!” She picked up a glitterball. “Glitter! Like Creek said, it makes everything happier, so why not use it for the bunker!”

The Snack Pack exploded in excitement, taking about what colors of glitter they should use, and if they should use sticky glitter or extra sticky glitter. The only one who looked conflicted was Cooper. “Uh, guys, doesn’t Branch seriously hate glitter? Maybe we shouldn’t-"

“Exactly!” Poppy exclaimed. “Branch hates glitter because he doesn’t spend enough time around it! So if we expose him to more of it, he’ll learn to love it.”

As everyone went to grab all the glitter balls they could find, Cooper mumbled underneath his breath, “This seems like a bad idea.”

Chapter Text

Today was a very important day for Branch. Today was the day he tested his SAV (scaling amphibious vehicle) in one of the many lakes in the forest. The previous week Branch had tested its ability to climb near vertical and vertical surfaces on one of the cliffs he had found on his first visit to the deep forest. And before that he had spent days testing its features out on flat ground. But now the day had come to give it the underwater tests it needed to prove its effectiveness in water.

Ever since he had finished his bunker a few months prior, Branch hadn’t been able to scratch the itch in his head to be building something. He planned on expanding the bunker eventually, but at the moment he didn’t really have anything to fill the space. Every room in his home had its use, and there was no point in adding space for no reason.

Branch was not going to delve into the four rooms that were sitting empty with four different names carved into the doors.

So with a lack of other projects, Branch had turned to creating a vehicle that could work almost anywhere. He installed a high powered vacuum to the bottom that, when turned on, would allow his SAV (name pending) to scale surfaces that would normally be impossible. He had figured out the mechanics by testing it on small models and it had taken him weeks. He also reinforced the windows, attached retractable propellers and added tanks to the SAV to allow it to take in either air or water to control its buoyancy and supposedly work under water.

Well, that was the hope, and today was testing day. Branch rode deep into the forest until he reached one of the larger lakes. He parked and hopped out. “Okay, let’s see what you can do.” The grey troll said as he surveyed the lake.

A vehicle like this could help him escape when if the Bergens came. It's not like Bergens could breathe underwater or even swim, if the books he had brought to Pop Village when they escaped were to be believed.

A vehicle like this could help dull his fears of being found and eaten, well, maybe. Being eaten was a very normal fear for a troll, he thought, especially when he had seen it happe-

Branch cut that line of thought off as he pulled off his green, leaf vest- revealing a large number of silvery scars he usually tried to keep hidden- and put on a more practical life vest.

He sat down in the driver's seat with a hammer clenched in his paw to break the glass in case of disaster. And he slowly drove forward into the deep blue water, watching as it passed over the glass until finally Branch retracted the wheels and looked around.

Blue, hundreds of shades of blue surrounded him. Glittering sand with tiny moving creatures below and muted sunlight above.

Branch started the propellers and began to glide through the water, marveling as he passed flashes of colorful seaweed and curious fish, some even bigger than the SAV.

As he explored, he came across a massive freshwater coral reef, which he eagerly examined and committed to memory, to document later.

Branch drove the SAV around for hours, and by the end of his test drive, had more than a few things to transfer to his journals when he got home.

On his way back he thought about everything he had seen, and suddenly he was hit with a wave of loneliness. What was the point? It‘s not like there was anyone he could share the experience with. Why was Branch hurrying home when there was no one waiting for him, waiting to hear about his day, about the amazing things he’d seen and done? He was an independent troll. He always had been, but he was still only 14.

If it weren’t for Poppy coming to bug him with another invitation to a loud, stupid party that would probably get someone killed, or Cooper getting hurt again and needing to be patched up- who would even know he was gone? Would they care? Probably not.

Shaking the depressing thoughts away, Branch tightened his grip on the steering wheel and looked at himself in the rearview mirror. Grey, grey, grey. He looked back at the forest.

All too soon he arrived in a familiar clearing. He hopped out and locked the SAV. After a very vivid nightmare in which the Snack Pack had found the vehicle and used it to joy-ride around the village, Branch had installed a lock.

His ear twitched as he heard excited cheering. Confused, he looked at the sun. The party wasn’t supposed to start for a few more hours. What was going on?

BOOM

Branch jumped as a massive explosion shook the ground. It was coming from the direction of his bunker!

He sprinted as fast as he could and when he reached the rock next to his ‘welcome’ mat his eyes widened in horror.

“What did you do?!”

—————————————————

Cooper knew this was a bad idea. A horrible idea. A phenomenally bad idea with almost a 100% chance of catastrophe. But when Popy set her mind on something, it was pretty much impossible to convince her she was wrong. As he watched the others prepare to throw the most heavy duty glitter balls they could find down into Branch’s open (how did Creek even do that? That thing was usually sealed tighter than the party factory!) bunker, he felt dread pooling in his stomach.

In one last ditch attempt to stop this he said, “Guys, I seriously think this is a bad idea. Branch is not going to be happy-“

But Poppy cut him off again, she’d gotten into a bad habit of doing that lately.

“Relaaaax Cooper. It’s gonna be fine! We’re doing this for Branch’s own good.” And with that, the Snack Pack threw the glitter balls into the hatch, before Creek quickly sealed it.

This proved to be useless as seconds later, the top burst off with a tidal wave of glitter, narrowly avoiding smacking Guy Diamond in the face.

The ground rumbled and suddenly they saw Branch sprinting around the corner. He was slightly disheveled and out of breath, but there was no mistaking the anger in his voice as he shook.

What did you do?!”

Poppy paled as she chuckled nervously. “Surprise!” She said weakly. Wincing as another wave of glitter leaked out of the broken hatch.

Branch looked furious. He took a halted step forward, as if restraining himself, before Creek cut in.

“Look mate, there’s no need to be so angry. It’s just a bit of glitter after all. Who knows, you might even grow to like it.” This was all he was able to say before the ground rumbled again, and the ground seemed to sink in on itself.

“Nonononono!” Branch cried as he ran to the hatch, ignoring the glitter clinging to his skin. But it was too late. The bunker was destroyed.

The next hour passed in a blur. Poppy made a half-hearted apology that ended with her planning on him coming to a sleepover at her pod to work on reintegrating Branch into the village now that he would be staying there. Creek made some passive aggressive comment about how this would be good for him. And Cooper stood quietly by him and whispered a soft apology, before being dragged off with the rest of the group to get ready for the party.

Branch would remember all of this later. But right now he stared down at his glitter covered hands and sobbed.

Seven years.

Seven years of blood and sweat and working from before the sun came up, to well after it set.

Seven years of work. Gone in less than a minute.

Later that night he dug through the dirt and glitter. He almost suffocated more than once on the shiny substance. He dug out John Do- a pair of old goggles, a few sad books that were caked with glitter, a box of photographs and letters, and he dug and he dug and he dug.

The sun was starting to come up by the time he had everything as clean of glitter as could, and packed into the SAV. The Snack Pack had destroyed the only thing truly keeping him here, and now Branch was going to leave.

—————————————————

Peppy had hoped to sleep in this morning. He had been so anxious about the party that by the time it was over, and not a single Bergen to be seen, he fell in bed exhausted. Poppy wasn’t home- at a friend’s house for a sleepover- so he wasn’t in any danger of being awoken by his lovable daughter’s energetic morning-person self. The only troll who could match her energy had been her older sist-

But, nonetheless, early that morning he was awoken by a pounding on the door. Peppy got up blearily searching for the door handle. He finally managed to find it, and upon swinging the door open, he was greeted to the sight of the last troll he expected to see.

“Ah Branch, what can I do for you?” Peppy asked, yawning, but as Peppy began to think more clearly he looked closer at the young troll.

Branch looked exhausted, he had massive bags under his eyes and his skin looked to be scrubbed raw- though Peppy could see faint specks of glitter. In short, Branch looked like he was about to keel over any second now.

“I’m leaving.” Branch said, so quietly that Peppy almost missed it.

Peppy paused, everything screeching to a halt. Surely he had misheard him, right? There was no way the 14 year old troll was really planning on leaving? Then his mind drifted to his question from his worries yesterday. Who could he send? Well… maybe…

Peppy’s thoughts raced as he stared blankly at a nervously shifting Branch.

“Sir. Are you okay?” The grey troll asked.

“Hmmm? Oh yes. You were saying you want to leave the Village.” Peppy began to walk out of the pod, beckoning Branch. “I might have something I need you to do.”

“Sir?” Branch was so confused, what could Peppy want him to do?

The king led him to a secret grove and pushed aside the hanging vines. Branch stepped inside and immediately his jaw dropped. The air hummed with a warm, light feeling, and small bejeweled butterflies flapped around lazily. Directly in the middle of the grove sat a small white lyre with one glowing, pink string.

Branch looked to the king with questions on the tip of his tongue, but held them back as Peppy looked at the string, and began to speak.

“In the beginning, there was silence.”

Branch listened as Peppy spun a tale of music and power, of resentment and peaceful separation, and through it all he wondered, ‘Is this really all there is to the story?’ For all of Branch’s life the other Pop trolls (and so that was why they were called Pop trolls!) had gotten parts of the story wrong. Had missed things by being overly positive and refusing to look beyond the spoken word. Was it possible that could have happened here? Was this really all there was to their history?

As the king finished he lowered his gaze to Branch, and steeled his spine. “This, Branch, is what I need you to do. I need you to go to the other tribes and get their support.” Standing, he pulled a scrapbook out of his hair, flipping to a page showing the dreaded giants. “I know you have concerns about the Bergens returning, and so do I. What could we do against creatures that size? I want you to connect with the other troll tribes in case of a future Bergen invasion. So that we can remain safe.”

Branch only stood there, stunned. “King Peppy, I’m 14 years old, grey, and probably the least sociable troll in the village. Why would you send me?” He was trying to puzzle it out, but it just didn’t make sense. Why Branch of all trolls?!

“While you may not be the most… cheerful troll here, you are by far the most resourceful, and best at survival. You are the only troll I know that makes regular trips deep into the forest.” Peppy paused to stroke his beard. “Truth be told, you are the only troll I trust to be capable of making this journey.”

So Branch thought; he was planning on leaving anyway, and this was just shy of a direct order from the king. And even ignoring that, could he, in good conscience, leave these trolls to possibly be eaten? No. Not even Creek deserved that. So before he could change his mind he said, “I’ll do it.”

Peppy smiled sharply. “Excellent.”

Chapter Text

Ablaze was getting nervous. It had been days since any of them had seen Branch. Not that Branch talked to any of the remaining members of Kismet, but usually they would see him collecting supplies or trading for something in the village.

Ablaze, Hype, Trickee, and Boom had first met Branch back in the troll tree shortly after Brozone broke up. Together they had formed the band Kismet, and they had sung together for about a year before Branch went grey. After escaping Bergen Town Branch had been shuffled through different pods in the village, including Ablaze’s home and Trickee’s. But because it seemed every adult had it out for Branch, no one kept him for long. They either believed that his grey skin was contagious and didn’t want their own trollings “catching the greyness” or were horrified by Branch refusing to sing, dance, and hug. Much to Ablaze’s horror, his own parents were among those who despised the young troll, prompting many arguments that devolved into screaming between him and his dad.

Branch had stayed with Trickee as well, but his parents quickly got annoyed by being awoken from Branch’s nightmares. Because apparently, despite seeing his grandma die, the four year old wasn’t allowed to get nightmares. It honestly sickened him the way most trolls acted towards Branch, and he knew that Hype, Trickee, and Boom felt the same way.

When Branch was 6, and Ablaze was 12, the parents of the four older trollings got together and decided to stop them from spending time with Branch. They blamed all of the recent arguments on Branch being a bad influence, and told them that if any of them saw any of the four near Branch, they would be grounded for a month.

While the oldest three distracted the parents, Boom had run to tell Branch what was happening, and tell him that this wouldn’t stop them from being there for himself. But Branch had been scared to get them in trouble, and pushed them away.

The next year the grey trolling had started work in his bunker, and none of Kismet had spent more than five minutes with him since.

Now, Ablaze was 20 and shared a pod with Hype and Trickee, and Boom planned to move in in two years, when he became an official adult. Maybe they could even convince Branch that it was safe to spend time with them again, once they were all out from under their parents’ roofs.

But at the moment, Ablaze was worried. Two of his unofficial brothers had gone to get the third, so he would have to ask if Boom had seen Branch at all when they got back.

A quiet knock at the door shook him out of his thinking. Ablaze sat up straighter, confused. None of his brothers had knocked on his door since he had gotten the pod. But he wasn’t expecting anyone else. Maybe it was his neighbor Violet, the elderly troll occasionally came over when she was lonely, and looking for someone to play checkers with.

He opened the door, expecting to see the old purple troll and was shocked to see the last troll he’d thought would be there.

“Branch?!”

—————————————————

After the king gave him a map showing the location of the other tribes, Branch had gone to Dr. Moonbloom with a note from Peppy allowing him to take whatever supplies he needed. He sidestepped her many, many (how many questions can one troll ask, jeez) questions, and got in and out as quickly as possible. Branch stopped by the village to pick up a few more supplies and was ready to leave by midday.

There was only one thing left to do. Say goodbyes. Luckily that shouldn’t take long, just Cooper and Kismet. Saying goodbye to Cooper would be easy, the younger troll was pretty chill, Branch could say goodbye, and leave, no hard questions asked.

Kismet though, Kismet might be a problem. Don’t gem him wrong, he loved his old band like bro- best friends, but he knew they would want to know everything.

Maybe he should just write them letters? Yeah, that was probably a better idea.

So Branch sat down and penned out four letters. He allowed himself to write words he could never say aloud, about how much he loved them, would miss them, and was sorry they had to put up with him for so long. He sealed them shut, stuck them in his pocket and went to say goodbye to Cooper.

As expected, it was quick, the four legged troll had accepted his leaving with a shocking degree of placidity. He had given Branch his green cap though, a gesture he wouldn’t forget.

But now, he kind of regretted how quickly they had gone, because now he stood in front of the door to his oldest broth- Ablaze’s pod.

He could just leave the letters here but… Kismet would never let him just leave. Knowing them, they’d follow him all the way around the tribes. Branch smiled fondly, and then his smile faded as he looked at the light blue door, and he knocked before he could convince himself to walk away.

Branch heard footsteps and then the door creaked open. “Branch?!” Ablaze exclaimed.

Staring at his feet, Branch nodded, “Yeah, I- I have something I need to tell you.” He looked up and locked eyes with the older troll. “All of you.”

Wordlessly, Ablaze opened the door wider and Branch walked in. “We’ve missed you, Branch.” Ablaze said, breaking the silence.

“I’ve missed you guys too.” Branch said truthfully, “But I can't stay for long.”

Ablaze looked at him questioningly, but decided to wait for the others to question him.

They sat in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's presence until they heard laughter and loud footsteps outside the pod. Hype, Trickee, and Boom barged into the pod with all the grace of a group of manatees on dry land. Tripping over each other, they fell into a pile of hair and limbs, just inside the door, cackling with laughter.

All three of the trolls were covered in splatters of paint and Booms hair was dripping wet.

In between bouts of hysterical laughter, Trickee gasped and started choking and coughing as he saw Branch.

“Branch! What are you doing here?” Hype asked as he staggered to his feet, and pulled Boom to his own. “Not that we’re not happy to see you, but-“

Boom cut him off by throwing himself towards Branch for a hug, but stopping before he touched him. “Can I?” He asked, making grabby motions with his hands.

Branch nodded hesitantly, and Boom gave him a gentle hug, still sopping wet.

Branch ended up staying at the pod until the sun was setting. He told them what had happened yesterday, and Kismet had offered to make them understand the pains of unwanted glitter, whatever that meant.

After deciding to hair with the king’s request not to tell anyone about the other trolls, Branch showed them the map and route he was planning to take. The others had been horrified to learn that Peppy was sending him on what they saw as a suicide mission.

“C’mon at least let one of us go with you.”

“Is he insane?! You’re fourteen! Fourteen!!”

But Branch wouldn’t budge. This was his mission, and he didn’t want any of his brothers coming along and possibly getting hurt. They didn’t have nearly as much experience with surviving in nature as he did.

They bullied him into staying at the pod for the night, and Boom got permission from his parents to stay over.

Branch hadn’t slept so well in years.

Eventually, though, the time came for him to leave. The four older trolls walked with him to the SAV and marveled over it for a few minutes before saying their final goodbyes.

As Branch drove off, he was still upset about his bunker, still nervous to meet new trolls (ugh socializing) and he was still terrified he would fail, but he felt… strangely peaceful? Huh.

He settled in, and was hit with a sense of Deja vu as the darkness of the forest began to engulf him- oddly similar to the feeling of submerging in the SAV. Except this time, he wasn’t testing a vehicle, he was testing himself.

Chapter Text

Branch was bored. Sure, he was in a forest he’d never seen before, and sure, he’d stopped a few times to take pictures, draw and record different flora and fauna he’d seen, and to add to the map. (Which was unsurprisingly undetailed) But after a while it just all blurred together. Hours and hours in a car with nothing to do but think and drive got a little tedious at times.

So he figured it could be excused that he, maybe, wasn’t making the best decision by going towards, what sounded like, a dying animal when he was on one of his stops.

Branch knew he was probably going to regret this later, but he was so b o r e d! Oh well.

He ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop being stupid, and creeped towards the sounds, which were only getting louder.

Branch peered through the bushes into a large clearing filled with spiders. He wasn’t worried though, he’d had to fight off tons of spiders back in his forest. These ones looked a little bit different, (bigger and darker) but they had all the same soft parts as far as he could tell.

That being said, he wasn’t going to get into a fight unless he had to. Branch didn’t need any injuries that could possibly get infected or slow him down.

With this in mind, the grey troll began to turn away, before a quick movement caught his eye. The spiders were attacking something. He only caught a glimpse of what it was before it was practically buried in angry spiders.

It was… a baby spider? Except, unlike the other spiders, it was several shades lighter and smaller than the other baby spiders Branch could see clinging to the adults backs.

A wave of protective fury washed over him. Branch knew he was going to have to unpack that later. For now, though, he burst out of the bushes and whipped his hair towards the spiders.

They reacted very similarly to the spiders he was familiar with, retreating, hissing and occasionally charging at him, only to be driven back by another powerful whip.

In less than a few minutes all of the spiders were gone. Except for the lighter baby he had saved.

Branch went to take a closer look and realized that his initial thoughts weren’t entirely true; the baby (it looked like a female) was lighter in color, but she was a shade of green, not grey or black as Branch had first thought. Then he noticed a pale blue substance leaking out from several cuts and scrapes the spider must have gotten from the others.

He picked up the spider, careful to avoid her pincers, and she fit in his hands when he cupped them together. The spider struggled against him at first, but eventually gave up her weak protests, as Branch took her back to the SAV.

He did his best to patch the spider up, and when he was done, Branch took some of his books out of a box and put her inside with a blanket.

“I can’t just keep calling you ‘spider’ in my head. Branch said aloud as he settled down for the night. “I think I’ll call you… Gary.”

And so, Branch gained a companion.

—————————————————————-

It had been a week since Branch had first found Gary, and he was learning that she was clingy.

Ever since the spider had first woken up, safe and sound for probably the first time in her short life, she had clung to Branch, and, surprisingly, Branch didn’t mind it. He’d never liked it when other trolls- mostly the snack pack, but others as well- tried to force hugs or touch on him, but he liked holding Gary. She was softer than he expected.

Now she was sitting on his lap purring, (because apparently spiders could purr?) flipping through a book he had taken from the library on different animal and insect species.

Ah, here it is. The Black Jumping Spider. It was poisonous, which was super fun. Good thing he didn’t get stung, or he would have been paralyzed for up to three hours, assuming he wasn't eaten. They could also jump up to three feet when fully grown, and they could grow to be about ten inches long and a few inches high. Which was terrifying considering Gary was tiny right now, and Branch was five inches tall.

From the looks of things, Gary had probably been born a few days ago, and would likely stay this size for the next few weeks before growing significantly.

Branch had already gotten attached, so that meant he would have to figure out how long the SAV would be able to fit her, before he had to add room to the top or something. He could cross that bridge when they came to it, though.

Right now he was going to keep reading about his new friend. Friend. Branch liked the sound of that.

—————————————————————-

For the first time in days, Branch couldn’t see a single tree looking forward. Just blue as far as the eye could see. Checking on Gary, he could feel her nestled in his hair.

The grey troll let out a deep breath as he drove into the gently breaking waves. After a few seconds he retracted the wheels, turned on the propellers, and began whirring though the water.

Man, he was glad he had made the SAV amphibious.

Branch drove through the still waters, going deeper and deeper. He kept on for hours. At some point Gary woke up and started jumping around the SAV, shaking it a little, and sending small vibrations through the water.

As the water began to get slightly darker, they were surrounded by a school of neon, glowing fish that seemed to be emitting a quiet, synchronized beat. Branch and Gary looked around in awe, as the fish swam in circles around the SAV before darting away.

Eventually Branch could make out a large fluorescent coral structure. The lights flashed and different colors flared every second. It was beautiful.

This was the home of the techno trolls. This was his last chance to turn back.

Branch drove towards the lights.

Chapter Text

There was nothing like an early morning rave. Seeing hundreds of trolls bouncing along to a sick beat that Trollex had helped make was amazing.

Everything was going perfectly; the music, the lights, and the dancing was on point. Thankfully, because today was the biannual Daylight Ravings rave. Where the entire city got together and partied from the minute the sun went down, to the second it rose. The only trolls that weren’t here were the head mechanics, who had been working on the sound systems and lights for this rave non stop in the past weeks (a group of teenagers had started a rave a few weeks ago that had gotten way out of hand and had resulted in the destruction of all of the rave equipment and strangely large Purple Hearts with eyes being painted all around the city. The culprits had been forced to clean up the paint, and hours of community service.) and the very youngest trollings, those who were under a year old.

Suddenly a loud screeching noise drew his attention to the speakers. Everyone covered their ears as an awful sound came out, sparks along with it, and the music grinded to a halt.

A mild panic began to form as one of the speakers caught on fire, with several trolls darting forward to try and put it out. A fire could be very dangerous inside of the Techno Trolls’ main air bubbles; they had a tendency to eat up more oxygen at a faster rate than the filters could replace. Though a Techno troll could hold their breath for up to an hour, it was still

King Trollex himself was starting to feel a bit panicky, when he felt a light tap in his shoulder. “Uh, is this a bad time?” A quiet, young sounding voice asked. “And are you okay?”

Turning around, Trollex could see that the voice had come from what looked to be a pop troll. He looked young, really young, like where are his parents, young, and wore a green leafy vest over grey skin. Oh, the poor thing was grey.

Very few trolls turned grey, but it was always because of some sort of tragedy, or more often, tragedies, in the troll's life. The thought that a troll so young had gone through something that was enough to turn him grey, was a saddening one. Trollex had never seen a grey troll younger than 50 before.

Okay, so he was talking to a depressed, young, pop troll. He could address that later. Right now he had to deal with the fire and somehow get the sound up and working without the help of their head mechanics who were sound asleep in the soundproof portion of the city that held the majority of the techno trolls' homes.

He was screwed.

“Well it looks like they already put the fire out, and I can help you with the speakers if you want me to.” The troll offered. “I’ve got a lot of experience fixing things. I just- uh, might need a second to figure everything out.”

Trollex hadn’t realized he’d been talking aloud. Yikes. Shaking his head clear he said, “It’d be awesome if you could, pretty much all of our mechanics are either at home sleeping, or are more than a little buzzed. If you know what I mean?” He laughed awkwardly, inwardly berating himself. ‘That’s a minor! He can’t drink stupid!!’

The troll nodded, shuffling his feet a little. Trollex swore he wasn’t usually this bad at talking to people.

“Yeah, I just need to-“ He gestured in the vague direction of the speakers, “-I kinda need a hand getting over there.”

“Shi-shoot yeah” Trollex was not going to swear in front of a CHILD! “Do you mind if I-“ he cut himself off, trying to figure out how to grab onto the younger troll in the least uncomfortable way. He started moving his arms, only to jerk back clumsily and making several weird fumbling motions in the air.

“I’m not usually like this.” He tried to explain. Wincing as a guarded expression came over the grey troll's face.

“If you don’t want to touch my skin, that’s fine. I’m used to trolls not wanting to touch me. I can figure my own way to get there.”

There was a moment of silence. Trollex stared at the kid, trying to put the sentences together inside his head, and the other troll fidgeting under his stare.

“Wait. What?” He was officially broken. His brain just didn’t work anymore. “What do you mean, ’if I don’t want to touch your skin.’ What does that have to do with anything?” Trollex was so confused, and as his head started working, he began to get a bit angry at the implications too. ‘Who the hell had refused to touch the kid because he was grey? Enough that he was ‘used to it’. What on earth?’

Another loud screech threw him back to the original problem. Right. The speakers.

Trollex took a deep breath, in and out, and said, “Alright, I don’t know who did that to you, but that’s not the reason. I’m just really tired and kind of awkward. So I’m just going to grab you and bring you over to the speakers, okay?” He waited a second in case the other objected, and when none came, did exactly that.

The kid took one look at the broken mess of a speaker and asked for some tools and scrap metal. Literally minutes later the speaker looked relatively normal and started pumping out beats.

“I’m keeping you.” Trollex didn’t mean to actually verbalize that, but it was out in the world now and this troll was a literal lifesaver. He wasn’t gonna take it back. “Also- uh, what’s your name? I’m King Trollex, but most trolls just call me Trollex, except for on important occasions and whatnot.”

The trolls froze. “…I’m Branch.” He said, barely audibly. Trollex could practically hear him thinking more clearly than speaking at this point. He probably shouldn’t have mentioned he was the king yet, should he?

Trollex watching as Branch’s, it felt so good to finally know his name like jeez, eyes unfocused and he started swaying with the music. He knew the kid was doing it unconsciously, because the second he realized what he was doing he stopped abruptly.

“You liking your first taste of techno?” Trollex asked. He’d seen one or two trolls from different genres before, but they hadn’t stayed to listen to the music. He was actually pretty sure they were bounty hunters, but what could you do? They seemed cool anyways.

Branch looked a little off put as he said, “Yeah, I am. I didn’t know music could feel like this anymore.” He looked down as he said it, his paws shaking a little.

Ah, that was common in trolls that turned grey. A lot of them stopped singing or listening to certain music, especially if that music had anything to do with their turning grey. (Which happened more often than you would think.)

Trollex elected not to say anything about it, draping a gentle arm around the kid’s shoulders and gently questioned him about where he was sleeping for the day. It might be morning, but most of them had stayed up all night and from the dark smudges underneath Branch’s eyes, he felt it was safe to say the kid could use some sleep.

After learning about the SAV, which he would totally be taking a look at later- it sounded awesome-, he offered his and his cousin’s guest room. And by offered, he meant he would not take no for an answer.

After convincing (read gently forcing) Branch into one of the guest rooms, Trollex floated over to his room, humming a beat he couldn’t get out of his head.

He peeked into his cousin’s room, and found her fast asleep. Trollex smiled fondly as he finally got into bed. His cousin had been living with him ever since he could remember. Her parents had died when she was really little. The pink troll didn't even remember them.

Bliss was basically his little sister and it had hurt her just as much as it hurt him when his dad died. All they had was each other now. She meant the world to him. Not that he would ever say that to her face, he was her pseudo older brother not her ego booster.

As Trollex fell asleep, he let the worries of the day go. How badly it could have gone if Branch had not fixed the speaker, the whale incident from a few days ago (ugh), the fact that he had no idea what he was doing, that he wasn't qualified to be the king of anything. He thought about each one, and imagined it flowing away on the tide.

Far out to sea.

—————————————————

’Yesterday was something.’ That was the first thing Branch thought when he woke up. He’d met the king of the Techno trolls, fixed their sound system, been taken to the king’s house, and given a bed to sleep in. And he’d listened to techno for the first time. He… didn't hate it. Branch actually liked it. The beat was energizing and fun without being annoying, and the lack of lyrics was refreshing compared to

Honestly the bed could’ve been rock hard and still feel amazing, after sleeping in the driver's seat of the SAV for the past few days. It wasn’t though, he felt like he was going to sink through the mattress and wind up under the bed in the middle of the night. (Well, technically the day)

He couldn’t believe how well the previous day had gone. Branch hadn’t been expecting to walk in on what was basically the techno king having a mini freak out, but hey, he hadn’t known how to actually start talking to him anyway so it all worked out in the end.

Now he just had to figure out how to bring up the strings and possibly ask about getting support for pop village… yay.

He groaned, flopping back on the bed.

Right on cue, Gary poked out of his hair, chittering in a way Branch was coming to associate with her being hungry. The two of them had gotten closer since he’d saved her and Branch was coming to depend on the quiet companionship she offered. Gary had been a comfortable presence in his hair for the past hours. Soon she was going to be too big to fit in his hair, so Branch was going to enjoy it while he could.

“Alright girl, let’s go get you something to eat.” Branch scooped her up and walked cautiously out the door.

He went down a few hallways, Branch thought he remembered walking by the kitchen last night.

After a few more turns he found the kitchen, with another troll already inside. Trollex had mentioned having a cousin, so this was probably her.

She turned at the sound of the door opening and immediately zeroed in on Gary. She stared for a few seconds before squealing.

“You have a furry octopus!” She zipped over to them and cooed at Gary. “Awww what’s their name?”

Branch took a small step back. She seemed nice, but he wasn’t used to trolls being in his space. “Her name is Gary,” He said, “and she’s actually a spider. Not a furry octopus.” Branch scrunched his nose. “What even is an octopus?”

The other troll gasped. “You don’t know what an octopus is?!” She started racing off, yelling over her shoulder to, “Wait right here, I’ll be back!”

Branch stood there for a minute, not really knowing what to do, until she came back holding a weird orange creature that looked vaguely similar to Gary.

“This is Barnaby!” He’s my octopus.” She exclaimed cheerfully. “Oh and I’m Bliss, by the way. Bliss Marina, but everyone just calls me Bliss.”

Bliss kind of reminded Branch of a calmer Poppy. A bit more aware of boundaries too, considering she hadn’t gotten as close to him as before, after he backed up. Branch appreciated that. She was bright pink, like Poppy, but she had purple hair rather than pink. Bliss seemed very enthusiastic, a trait Branch was more than used to, but she wasn’t all up in his space, so it was a lot more bearable than the pop trolls’ enthusiasm.

“I was a little nervous because, like, you're in my house and I don't really know you,” Branch just realized that Bliss had been talking the entire time he had had his mini character analysis of her, and stopped zoning out. “But then I saw this cutie and I mean, come on, you were cuddling her. You said she’s a spider right? I don't know what that is. I’ve never seen anything quite like her, or you. Well, technically I have seen trolls like you, but only in books. What type of troll are you? Are you a pop troll or a rock troll? I know you're not a country, classical, or funk troll because… well duh. It's kinda hard to tell the difference between pop trolls and rock trolls though. Anyway, I’m getting off track. What I mean to say is I don't think anyone bad could be that nice to a critter so, I figured you were at least all right!”

That was a lot of words. Okay, a little naive but hey, he wasn't a bad guy so who cared right now. Not worth arguing with her about.

Branch blinked. Bliss was looking at him expectantly. Why was she…? She was waiting for a response, right!

“Oh, uh I'm a pop troll, and Trollex, King trollex? Anyway, he offered to let me stay here for the night.”

“Huh, he's never done that before. Usually I have to convince him to let people stay over. How’d you get him to invite you?” Her eyes widened. “Not to be rude!! Trollex is just kind of awkward, so I'm just curious!”

At this point Barnaby and Gary had stopped eyeing each other warily from their respective trolls’ arms and were getting to know each other, exchanging tentative chirps and clicks.

“The speakers were on fire, and I, uh, fixed them?” He didn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but that was how it came out.

“That was you? That's awesome! I heard about somebody fixing them when I took Barnaby on a swim earlier, but nobody knew who it was.” Bliss said. “I guess that makes sense if you're not from around here.” She flitted around, starting the process of making breakfast; she was pouring some sort of green mixture into molds.

“I’m just going to make some seaweed muffins, I don’t need any help so you’re welcome to just chill.” She said over her shoulder.”We have a couple of really cool books you can look at if you want.”

Branch didn’t need to be told twice. He ran-walked his way over to the purple bookshelf in the corner of the room.

So many books. They were beautiful. Titles like “Creatures of the Deep: Edition One”, “Kandi Culture”, and “Troll Biology: Techno: drew him in, but one stood out. “The Pain of Pop’s Power.”

The pain? What pain had pop trolls caused? Maybe it was just a book bashing pop music, but Branch knew in his gut that wasn’t it.

Thirty minus later Branch was still standing by the bookcase, halfway through the book. He was horrified. “I knew that wasn’t all to the story.” He whispered. This was going to make his job that much harder. If he thought the odds of the other tribes helping were low before, then now they were practically non-existent.

Their ancestors had tried to force all trolls to only sing and play pop music. On the surface level, that sounds just like a crappy thing to do, but at the same time, doesn’t sound despicable, right? Wrong. Back then, music was all they had. It was how they stayed alive in the SIlent era. And pop tried to take that away.

Branch wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t even allowed into some of the other tribes. Honestly, he wouldn’t blame them.

“What’cha reading?”

Branch startled, nearly dropping the book. “Bliss! Holy hair.”

Bliss giggled, “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be quiet, you were just really into your book.” She leaned over and looked at the title. “Ah, yeah. You a history nerd? That book is sooooo dry. It's Trollex’s. I tried reading it and I couldn’t get past the first chapter.”

She didn’t look upset. Why didn't she look upset? What pop trolls had done was terrible, but she was just floating there casually talking to him.

“I guess? Pop trolls don’t really talk about history. ‘Too depressing’ to be talked about in public. The farthest back trollings get taught is the first trollstice, and even then a lot of the details are glossed over.” It was something that made Branch furious. How were they supposed to avoid making past mistakes if they weren't allowed to know what those past mistakes were.

“What?!” Bliss exclaimed. “You mean if I had been born a pop troll I wouldn’t have had to sit through Ms. Diatchi’s History class?! What a ripoff, should have known better than to be born techno.”

She made eye contact with Branch, and burst out laughing. The grey troll was shocked to hear a soft chuckle escaping from himself.

He jolted in surprise, nearly falling over as Bliss laughed even harder at his expression. Caught between laughter, shock, and confusion, he couldn’t help but join in. Her laugh was contagious.

After a few false bouts of calm, followed by eye contact between the two young trolls, and bubbling giggles from Bliss and quiet chuckles from Branch, Bliss finally calmed down, sucking in huge gulps of air.

“It wasn’t even that funny!” She moaned, a wide grin still on her face despite clutching her stomach.

It really wasn’t, but she had a really infectious laugh. Branch hadn’t laughed since… since last Trollstice. He’d smiled a few times with Kismet, but never for this long at a time, let alone laughed. It felt weird. His mouth hurt from the stretch.

“What’s so funny?” Trollex asked bemusedly from the doorway.

Bliss was by his side in an instant, hands on his shoulders. “We were talking about the best way to kill you and steal the crown.” She said with a straight face.

Trollex rolled his eyes, “Oh is that all? I don’t think I need to be worried about a troll that can’t even make muffins without burning them.” Then he grabbed Bliss, stopping her from taking off towards the kitchen in a panic. “Oh relax, I took them out of the oven before they got too bad.”

’Is this what siblings are supposed to look like?’ Branch wondered as the two kept bickering playfully. He knew they were technically cousins but the grey troll could tell they were a lot closer than any cousins he had met. Which, admittedly, wasn’t many, but still.

Branch had been young when his brothers left, but trollings usually came out of the egg fairly advanced compared to other species. Despite this, all he could really remember of them were their names, and the fact that they hated each otherr… and him. After all, why else would they leave without a goodbye? He likes to think he wouldn’t have done that if their situations were reversed. Branch did kind of understand though, he was a curse. His brothers left because he messed up the song, Grandma died because he was selfish, and his bunker was destroyed because he wasn’t happy enough for the other trolls. So, the only explanation Branch could think of was that he was the problem.

He blinked away the wetness in his eyes and focused on the now wrestling Trollex and Bliss.

Gary had untangled herself from Barnaby and scurried up onto his shoulder, pressing against his face with a comforting hiss. He really didn’t know how she was so good at knowing his mood. They’d only known each other for a couple of days but she already had a special place in his heart.

“WEAKLING!” Bliss crowed from her spot on top of Trollex who groaned.

“Let’s just eat, okay?” The king asked, pushing her off. He turned to Branch. “And I think we need to talk.”

Well that sounded ominous.

Chapter Text

Seaweed muffins taste like seaweed. Which was not unexpected, but it was weird to bite into something shaped like a cupcake and to taste salt. Branch decided it wasn’t bad, but it was hard to focus on the food when Trollex was sitting across from him, waiting till everyone was done eating to question the grey troll.

So Branch picked away at the muffin, looking down and focusing on prolonging the task to avoid the upcoming interrogation for as long as possible. He wasn’t a big eater usually and even less so when he was anxious, but Branch was borderline desperate to not be probed by the King.

“Okay, I think you’ve killed it,” Trollex joked, “What did the poor muffin ever do to you?” He leaned forward and pushed his plate to the side.

Branch nearly flinched as Bliss slowly slid the plate with the pile of torn apart muffin towards hers, and stacked them before turning back to the conversation.

Trollex broke the building silence. “Okay so. You’re definitely young, but I want to know exactly how old you are.”

Branch blinked. That was not the question he had been anticipating. He’d been bracing himself for a little more of ‘What is a pop troll like you doing here?’ or ‘Why are you grey?’ Though those might still be coming.

He cleared his throat. “I’m uh, fourteen, but-”

“You’re the same age as me!”

“WHAT?” The techno king took a deep breath. “Okay, okay great. Yep. I’m going to come back to that. Where are your guardians, then? Did you run away, or are you just traveling? Just. Help me try to understand, okay?” He grumbled under his breath about child endangerment and something else, but Branch didn’t catch the last part.

“I don't really have any. I’ve been living by myself for a while now. King Peppy checks on me every once in a while, I guess, but that's more of an ‘every few months thing,’ so I’m not sure if that counts.” Branch was getting concerned for the techno troll as he slammed his head against the table. He felt he had to add something hopefully reassuring. “I lived with my grandma till I was three, though! And I don’t know how techno troll babies are, but for Pop trolls, most babies are pretty independent by that age. Maybe not like, ‘live on your own’ independent, but hey I survived right?”

Given Trollex’s groan and Bliss’s wide-eyed stare, Branch had not succeeded in making it better at all.

“For the sake of hurrying this conversation along and not losing my mind –though I will absolutely be asking more questions about the whole,” He waved at the air, “guardian/age thing later– I have one more main question. Why did you come to Techno village?”

And so Branch explained his mission.

Silence.

—————————————————

Trollex stared blankly at the wall. All the new information he had learned from Branch’s story was swirling around in his head. His brain felt like a storm he was in the middle of, trying to snatch the pieces of the puzzle out of the current, but the second he let go of one it was gone.

Branch had explained how the Pop king ‘explained the history of the strings’ (Which was another problem! Why weren’t pop trollings being taught history?! Even if the history was mostly untrue and heavily edited, it was better than nothing at all!) and then practically ordered the kid to make alliances with ALL of the other troll tribes in case of Trollstice? The grey troll hadn’t said what that was… he would need to explain before Trollex agreed to anything.

Next to him, Bliss looked confused and across the table Branch was nervously shifting in his seat.

“But why would he send a kid?” It had been the thing nagging at him the most, “and why would he lie to you about the history of the strings? I don't- I don't understand. Look, it would be odd, but not unheard of to send a teenager to be a PART of a diplomatic party, IF Techno and Pop had a longstanding alliance, but no one has seen a Pop troll in over 300 years!” Trollex couldn't make sense of it.

“And why now?” Bliss spoke up. “You said your King wants to make some sort of alliance for help, but why now? What changed from the past hundreds of years?”

Branch squared his shoulders and what he said would stay with Trollex for years. “Because 10 years ago we escaped from the Troll tree. No one has seen a pop troll in so long because we’ve been locked up by giants called," He shuddered, “Bergens.”

“I was looking at your books, it said there used to be thousands of pop trolls. When we escaped Bergentown we had less than a hundred. To Bergens, we were little happy pills. They had a holiday where the town would gather around the tree and celebrate by eating us.”

Bliss had full tears streaming down her face, and Trollex wasn’t far behind. However, Branch continued, his eyes closed, skin slowly fading into a deeper grey.

“The Bergens believe that the only way to be happy is to eat a troll. The year I was born, both my parents were eaten. And soon Bergens began to ignore the trollstice rules. If they could reach a troll through the bars, they were considered ‘fair game.’ Three years later, Queen Diva was eaten, and so was Gr-” Branch cut himself off. Gary crawled out of his hair and into his arms, as if awakened by her friend's struggle.

Considering how controlled the younger troll had been so far, Trollex was incredibly concerned to see Branch fighting to keep talking.

But Branch continued, “King Peppy had trolls start digging the tunnels the same night she died, but it was slow. The Bergens decided the youngest princess, Poppy, would be fed to the Bergen prince for his first trollstice. We escaped through the tunnels that trollstice.”

“What do you need us to do?”

“You’ll help?”

“We will.”
—————————————————

It had been a few weeks since Branch and Trollex hashed out the beginning of a techno-pop alliance. Branch couldn’t do too much because he still needed King Peppy’s approval, but they had written out several documents that just needed the King’s signature to be put in place.

Trollex and Bliss said he should stay for at least two weeks to get an idea on techno culture so he could tell the king, hopefully the other pop trolls (Branch hadn’t commented on how even if Peppy let him, none of the other pop trolls would want to listen to him talk about anything. Especially if it was something considered different) and maybe even the other tribes when he went. Apparently the Techno trolls were the most isolated of all the tribes- after Pop of course- and rarely interacted with the other genres. Trollex wanted to change that, but he hadn’t been sure where to start until Branch came along.

So Branch had spent the past weeks learning everything he could. It felt like heaven coming from Pop village where everyone just got all their information from Peppy or Creek’s mom, the village yoga instructor/therapist. (Looking at Creek’s mother, it's very easy to see where he got his holier-than-thou attitude and aura crap. According to both the woman and her spawn, Branch had a negative aura that brought others down. Okay, sure lady.)

He’d read nearly every book Trollex had, met with some of the techno master engineers and got some awesome advice and tips, and gotten to show off the SAV (and he’d gotten some help on fine-tuning the underwater portions of it, now it was at least twice as fast). The grey troll had been a bit embarrassed to show the SAV, but there was something rewarding about a group of experienced trolls telling him it was one of the finest vehicles they’d ever seen.

Surprisingly enough, he learned that he didn’t quite hate techno. It felt like background noise to the village, there was always something playing, but it never seemed to overpower Branch’s senses or grate at his nerves like pop did.

(The fact that Branch could like music, just not pop, scared him a bit. He had been in Brozone practically from the day he was born, and even after they left he joined Kismet. Then he went grey but he still couldn’t get away from the ‘upbeat’ ‘happy’ music. And Branch never stopped hating it. Techno didn’t quite click with him the way pop used to, but it was nice. Soothing. Would his life have been easier if he could still feel this way about pop? Was something wrong with him, other than the obvious, that made him an outlier in his own tribe?)

Gary liked the underwater tribe too. Mostly she liked that Trollex was really good at petting her, after he got over the unease he felt after seeing all of her legs. But he felt the same way about Barnaby so he was used to it. But she also liked that her troll was happier here. A little less sad, a little less grey.

The Techno Tribe was nice. They were friendly, but chill in a way Pop could never be.

But now it was time to leave. He had a mission after all.

—————————————————

Branch was doing his final checks on the SAV to make sure it was ready after its modifications. This should help him get to his next stop a bit faster.

Maybe if he moved the- “Braaaaaanch!” He was interrupted by Marina coming in for a high five.

She usually tackle hugged people, but she ASKED Branch whether or not he was okay with it, and DIDN’T DO IT when he said he wasn’t. So, high five.

“I’m gonna miss you Branch!” Marina said, cheerful despite her words. Which was… confusing.

She was holding something behind her back and bouncing. Marina looked around and Branch could see when she saw Trollex because she started fidgeting more.

“Ughhh he’s so slow.” She whined. “He told me I needed to wait for him to get here to give thi-” She stopped, making a zipper motion over her lips.

Branch smiled, a motion that was beginning to feel more familiar after the weeks spent with the Techno Trolls.

Finally Trollex was there and Marina wasted no time in pulling out the blue wrapped present from behind her back.

“Here you go!” She said, pushing it towards Branch. “It’s a ShellPhone! So we can stay in touch!”

After Branch had thanked her, this was the first gift he’d gotten from someone other than Kismet in seven years, Trollex showed him how to use it.

All too soon it was time for goodbyes. Time seemed to pass oddly quickly and all of a sudden Branch was sitting in the Sav, with Gary in his hair, after being pried away from Trollex, ready to go. The past hour had felt like a whirlpool, sucking him down and away.

As he started the SAV, one of the mechanics, Anist, knocked on the window. He rolled it down and she shoved a little pod in.

“I know you’re not the biggest fan of music, but you’re gonna be driving for hours and the blue gets tiring after a bit. We put some of the songs we noticed you didn't mind on here, and there's plenty of room for you if you decide you like some of the other tribes' music too.” She pushed a button and music started playing quietly, and handed him a paper with instructions. “We wanted you to know we’re rooting for you, okay? So good luck and I hope you find peace.”

Anist left after patting him on the head, and Branch blinked the wetness from his eyes.

He drove through the air bubble, and steered the SAV Northwest. As he left he could hear them playing the song he enjoyed the most. The steady beat matched his heart as he drove off.

It was time to meet the Classical Trolls.

Chapter Text

Despite lacking color, Branch was no stranger to it. Sometimes in his memories it was the only thing that really stood out.

He remembered the countless hours spent searching the forest after being kicked out by yet another foster family who decided he couldn't be helped, swearing to himself it would be the last one. He mostly remembered it in the way you remember vaguely familiar stories. It was all blurry.

Except for the colors.

The bright yellow skin of the foster mother who told him that maybe it would be better if he left. The soft green of the grass under his feet as his little five-year-old self wandered under the massive trees. The trickling blue stream he drank from when it became clear he would pass out if he didn’t stop to drink.

Even memories that weren’t blurred by age were distinguished by color. The muddy brown of his bunker as he started digging with inexperienced paws at seven. The deep red of the gash in his leg he received protecting some picnic-goers from a cuddle pup, whose den they had strayed too close to. Dripping, dripping, dripping down his leg. He barely made it back to the bunker. Branch had been nine then. He’d seen that red plenty of times before. And he’s seen it many times since.

The black of the night sky, speckled with dots of light, that Branch had seen when lying on top of the SAV with Gary sleeping on his chest. He hadn’t fallen asleep, he was too paranoid for that, not out in the open. But that had been one of the calmest moments he’d felt on the trip so far.

And now, Branch saw more color than he’d probably ever seen in his life. Considering he lived in Pop village, with trolls who seemed to think anything dull was boring, and therefore to be avoided at all costs, that was saying something.

Huge, radiant flowers that were anywhere from as small as a sprinkle to as large as the tallest tree in the Deep forest. The air was thick with pollen of all colors: yellow, pink, purple, blue, green, orange. And the ground was littered with little gems and leaves that seemed to shimmer in the light.

Some of the flowers had vines weaving around and through them, and the grey troll could see little bejeweled butterflies and bees darting through them.

He watched an odd creature with two legs that resembled a bird. It had no wings but instead bounced on some of the surrounding fungi that were scattered between the flowers, and propelled itself up to a higher group of plants. It squeezed through the mass of green, and Branch figured it had some sort of nest or den on the other side.

The fourteen-year-old kept walking before he stepped on one of the gems he had seen earlier. Wincing, he picked it up. It was small and circular, with a little curled point on the end, and so dark that he couldn’t see what color it was until he held it up to one of the little buttercup flowers that glowed so brightly he was sure they would light up the entire place in the dark. The light shining through the gem showed hundreds of shades of blue hidden in its depths.

Branch’s breath caught in his chest as he pocketed the small gem. He sat down and opened his journal, flipping to a new page and preparing to draw for hours.

This was worth the delay.

—————————————————

Branch stayed in the flower forest until the sun set, and even for a few hours in the dark. He was right about the buttercup-ish flowers lighting up the place, but there were some other flowers and ferns that uncurled when the sky turned dark, softly glowing and releasing sweet perfumes.

He had worried about some of the fruits and smells when he first arrived, but had seen a variety of animals eat them without immediately keeling over and so he had plucked up the courage to try a rose-colored berry that was perfectly round and about the size of his fist. It tasted tart, almost like a sour strawberry, and Branch found himself enjoying the fruit immensely.

He bit into another as he finished his final sketch: a bunch of flowers, each no bigger than his pinky nail, that grew so tightly together that when he poked them, he hadn’t been able to make it past their barrier.

Sighing quietly, he stood and reached into a bed of ferns, pulling Gary out from where she had been destroying a population of sugar flies.

“C’mon Gary, we should get going.” He whispered. The grey troll hadn’t spoken in hours; he hadn’t felt the urge to, and anyway, it felt wrong to speak above a hushed tone. Not from fear, but awe.

Gary whined, but dutifully scurried up onto his shoulder after eating a final, fat fly.

“I know… I don’t want to leave either.” He said, walking back to the SAV slowly. “But we can come back and see it again after we’re done with the other tribes. Maybe we’ll see something like this again.”

Branch climbed into the vehicle and carefully tucked the now full journal into a compartment, taking care that none of his pressed plants fell out. He set Gary down and closed the door, before opening it again and stepping out.

He came back in a minute with a small bundle of vanilla daisies, tying them to the mirror in the SAV and drove off. The warm fragrance comforted him as he kept his eyes forward.

Just four more tribes to go, and then he knew where he wanted to build his next bunker.

—————————————————

“Who d’you reckon is in there?”

“Let’s find out.”

—————————————————

They were making good progress on their way to the classical trolls. It was their second day of travel. Branch expected the journey to take about four days, but the tweaks the techno engineers suggested seemed to be working, and now it was looking closer to three and a half.

He was nervous.

Sure, it had gone smoothly with Techno, but Branch knew that a good portion of that was because Trollex was a relatively young ruler with a little cousin his age, and he definitely thought Branch was slightly less capable than he is. Which was fine, but he’d worked hard. He’s still alive, so that has to count for something, right?

But he didn't seem to care about his skin… And neither had Bliss. They had been worried because he was fourteen, and it had been so long since someone was worried about him other than Kismet.

Either way, he can’t rely on the same thing for the classical trolls. For all he knows, they might hate him for his greyness as much as Pop does. So he needs to cover up. It was so stupid of him to rush into the whole thing with Techno, and frankly he was lucky Trollex was so chill.

Branch brought along a hooded cloak given to him by Peppy for this exact reason. It still didn’t make sense to him that Peppy sent him, clearly thinking his lack of color would be a problem, but it was too late now.

Branch pulled it out of his bag at the next stop and put it on. It was itchy and rubbed against his hair and skin painfully. Great.

He groaned and started to untie the hood when he heard a rustle in the bushes.

“Gary?” he called quietly. From inside the SAV, Gary crept out, remaining in the shadows, all of her eyes roaming the undergrowth.

Another rustle. There!

Branch didn’t have any weapons other than a spear that was leaning against the SAV. He grabbed it, preparing to defend himself.

WHOOSH. A small troll rushed him, with a larger troll running after him in vain.

“Dickory! This is not what we agreed to!” The bigger lime-skinned troll yelled. “Stop!”

Instinctively, Branch kicked out at the still burgeoning troll, making contact with a hearty thud. The troll, Dickory, fell clutching his stomach as Gary leapt out hissing. Droplets of venom spitting out of her mouth.

The jumping spider’s fangs clamped down on Dickory’s leg as the troll cursed.

“Ya darn spinne. Why the fu-” Branch watched Dickory’s mouth begin to droop as he lost control of his body. The feral troll’s friend (?) ran up, panting with wild eyes.

“What did it do to him?” The troll demanded. “He’s an ass, but he’s my brother. If tha’ thing killed him-”

“Calm down.” Branch cut him off, gripping the spear tighter and stepping in front of Gary. “Her species’ venom won't kill you. An adult will paralyze you for a couple of hours, but she's just a baby. Your brother will probably be fine in ten minutes.” He stepped away from the short troll who was visibly fighting the paralyzing effect while trying, and failing, to swear at Branch,

Branch turned to the troll’s brother, spear held high. “And her name is Gary. She is not an it. She is not a thing.” The grey troll glared at the other. “You were the one who attacked me unprompted in the first place.”

The lime troll scuffed his foot lightly on the ground. “Well, first’ all, I’m Hickory. That's Dickory. I’m mighty sorry for callin’ your spider a thing, and I didn’t know Dickory was gonna do that. We were, uh, curious ‘bout your critter bus-thing there, and you in that hood of your’s look an awful lot like someone we… know.” The troll spoke with a country accent, completely unlike his brothers other than a couple of words with a slight German accent that seemed out of place.

“Why were you curious about the SAV?” Branch asked. He knew he was stepping around the subject of the mysterious troll with a hood like his, but honestly, that didn’t seem like his business. Besides, he wanted to know if the SAV was so unique that it could cause him trouble. It had already brought these weirdos to him. Maybe he’d have to see about disguising it.

“Nev’r seen a thing quite like it, honestly.” Hickory replied. “Sure, the funk and rock trolls got their air ships, but they’re not really made for the ground and all. I guess it’s just not common.”

Well, great. Just what Branch wanted to hear. But there was no way he was giving up the SAV, aside from the fact he needed it to travel to the other tribes, he was pretty attached by this point.

Also, air ships? The idea of technology behind making flying vehicles large enough for multiple trolls sounded so interesting. He wondered if they used different materials to minimize the weight of the airships or if- no. Focus Branch.

Branch shook his head slightly and glared at Hickory. “Great. Thanks. I’m gonna leave now.” He said abruptly.

Hickory started. “What? Why? I mean, I guess Dickory did attack you and you’re well within your right to leave, but don’t ya wanna know more about the fella we got you confused with?” He looked at Branch puzzled.

Why the hair would Branch care? He just wanted to make it to the other tribes, establish some form of friendly contact, and go rebuild his bunker. Why get involved in this drama/situation?

“Not really. I’m busy.” He turned keeping an eye on the bigger troll and a tight grasp on his spear.

The other troll had an interested glint in his eye. “Oh? Where are you going?”

———————————————-

The kid, cause there is no way in hell this troll in front of him is older than 16, looked tired.

Which, yeah sure. It could just be his absolute idiot of a brother attacking him, or a bad night of sleep while traveling. But it looked deeper than that. Hickory had seen the look in the kid’s eyes before, but usually in much older trolls.

The kid completely ignored Hickory’s mentions of the bounty hunter they confused him with. But, probably for the best?

Just then, the kid started to leave. “Where are you going?” He asked.

The kid tensed up, “None of your business.”

As the kid, shit he should probably learn his name, turned, Dickory seemed to get some mobility back, cause he threw himself at the kid clumsily.

This normally wouldn’t do anything to a full grown troll, but seeing as the kid was, well, a kid, it knocked him over and tore off his cloak in the process.

Hickory swore, and went to give the kid a hand up, pushing his brother off in the process. The little spider, Gary, jumped on Dickory and he couldn’t muster the desire to help him.

“Shii- sorry about him. I swear he was raised in a barn the way he acts.” He said, grabbing the kid's hand while glaring at Dickory.

“Anyways, sorry for delaying ya, we’ll let you get back on your w-.” He abruptly cut off.

Grey. This… this child who couldn’t be older than 16 was grey.

The last time he had seen a grey troll was before he and Dickory started out as bounty hunters. They had been in their late teens, still living with the Yodelers, and the troll was Auntie Jo. Nobody really knew who she was related to, she was just Auntie Jo. She was the oldest troll in town and even the head yodeler called her Auntie.

She turned grey after her husband died, and less than a year later she followed him. Hickory had cried.

Being grey was a death sentence. No matter how much care their family or neighbors gave, grey trolls’ bodies just seemed to give up. Everyone knew that if you saw a grey troll, you were seeing a dying troll.

What was the kid doing out here if he was grey?