Work Text:
The round was progressing rapidly. Taph was hit by the assassin as he was wrapping the rope around the peg. Blood was rapidly spreading across his calf, and the rippled fabric of his cloak and trousers was bulging outwards. Fortunately, the explosives expert managed to briefly escape the killer sight thanks to his teammate, Guest. Arriving just in time, Guest diverted the threat to another part of the area. Taph hurried to get as far away as possible, to a safer area, in order to deal with his wound. Sitting on the ground, just around the corner of the white wall, he removed his bandana and folded it into several layers, then applied a pressure bandage to his knee. He also used scraps of his inner garments to cover the outer surface of the wound. As a result, Taph was no longer able to move as quickly, but he still hurried to support his allies in this round.
On the way to the place of the alleged skirmish, they collects iron fittings on which the rope was broken. The rumbling in the distance worries him, as always he is out of time. Holding this bundle of building materials in his inventory, they sneaks up, bringing the center star into the magnetic field of the subspace tripmine, activating it. Elliot rushes past, already more significantly damaged by the killer. Taph glances at him worriedly for a moment, assessing the situation. As soon as the trap is set under John Doe's feet, he takes a roundabout route to avoid it. It's clear that it's not a good idea to rush towards him in an attempt to distract him. With a few minutes left in the round, they can breathe a sigh of relief. The session will come to an end, and they will all head off for rest and rehabilitation. Taph was fighting a fierce internal battle in the moment, between the pain of his wounds being unbearable and the fact that he could still be useful as a living unit of resistance. As the calluses on his hangnails become like igniter from the matchbox, the round ends with the loss of two members. Now they all have time to catch their breath, gather their thoughts, and prepare for tomorrow.
A lot changes in relation to the world around him after getting here. For several months now, Epitaph has been getting used to the system of respawns and the never-ending cycle of survival rounds. They are not particularly adaptable to this kind of drastic change. In fact, he was taken aback by the hospitality of the chosen ones here, which he was immensely happy about. He also managed to get to know many of them better and become acquainted with them. It was also comforting to know that someone, namely Noob and Elliot, knew sign language.
Dussekar understood him on a subconscious level, as he was able to interpret any system of signs or symbols. The builderman had forgotten some of the expressions since they last saw each other, but his knowledge of the base remained. With the others, he found a similar way of communicating through gestures that were universally understood. For example, he would clap his hands or stomp his feet to draw their attention to an impending danger, and in rare cases, he would use whistling.
Taph's mind couldn't help but turn to questions about the horrors that were happening here, even with the accepted version based on the limited knowledge they all had. Whether it was an experiment on the human condition, an observation of the participants' degradation, a higher conspiracy controlled by a god-like force, or a test of their resilience in extreme circumstances, it was impossible to know for certain. The multitude of possibilities was overwhelming. Taph tried to shield himself from the unnecessary anxiety that they were already dealing with.
As he made his way back to his home after a small dinner, he felt both sad and happy about everything that had happened today, and he had to come to a decision about his work. In the current situation, they were no longer bound to who they had been before. However, he couldn't forget all the knowledge he had about the people he had known in the past. Taph, on the other hand, treated Shedletsky as a fun and spirited person, which was exactly how he was. Not when he had the opportunity to observe this master in his prime, a quick and virtuosic fighter, a serious advisor in matters of managing the center of all work.
Taph contemplates the solution to his unfinished conversation: "Why not write something like a thank-you letter in an informal format...?" Although it seems foolish at the moment, they sets to work, roughly drafting the narrative and its content. Regardless of the passage of time, Taph cannot deny that he now has the best conditions to complete his unfinished tasks. They have long desired to confess and open their hearts, but lacked the courage to do so. Now, he has nowhere to run, both from himself and from others.
For lack of materials, he made a walk from his hut to the main building, where among the bookshelves he found books that contained sheets of paper for notes. The pen and ink were taken from Dusekar. Tuf still wonders if he writes poems and ballads at times. Does he have any free time at all? However, he is almost certain that Dussekar is an excellent calligrapher.
Everything he needs is right in front of him, on the small table where he always works. Memories flash like lights, revealing moments that are especially dear to his heart. When they worked alongside the Builder on a project, he would receive tools from his hands and notice how warm the handles were from his palms. Taph kept personal items that the Builder shared with him as lucky charms. Among them were a pair of gloves, ribbons and ties with keys to warehouses and offices with equipment, a keychain made of nylon screed and nuts, notebooks and pens from the companies they worked with. All these items were scattered in the pockets of their work uniforms, and few of them made it to their use outside of work.
Taph had spent years honing his skills in order to participate in the demolition of residential buildings within the city limits. Anything to see the people who inspired him more often. Seeing them on television and in newspaper reports was not the same as seeing them in person. He had a personal desire to participate in the demolition of buildings. He was equally excited about watching the destruction of rock formations or the cooling towers of a thermal power plant. The only difference is the risks and the level of responsibility for their actions.
They were truly proud of themselves for the diligence they put into every task and the precision with which they and team carried out projects from request to demolition. What truly amazed Taph about the Builder was that he was a jack-of-all-trades, knowing how to handle any type of work. He noted to himself that he had the skills to fix all household systems and appliances, but there was always room for knowledge in any evolving field...
Then he reasoned:"How can you concern a person who, by his example, laid the foundation for his love for his work and zeal for self-improvement?" With respect and great gratitude, no less. He was going to write about this influence of the Builder on him as a person in a letter. Simple, concise and to the point. He considered it necessary to express his gratitude to him. Epitaph knows that sharing his feelings, having put them together, must be overwhelming enough to understand and accept, but he also believes that it should bring only positive emotions. He soon completes a draft, which he will rewrite later.
Taph tried to use all his emotional resources to establish a strong camaraderie with the other survivors. As much as he was able to, and as long as there was something to ask about, he tried to understand their lives. As long as it wasn't too difficult for them to talk about the events that had happened to them. Taph was actually captivated by the Guest's stories of his military adventures and the challenges he faced during his service. He also helped demolition expert gain practical skills in self-help and combat techniques.
He like to discuss with Eliot about the people who have caused them a lot of trouble at work and outside of it. After all, their blood still boils at the memory of certain special occasions when, even when one was clearly in the right, they had to apologize and negotiate to resolve the conflict. They also decide together what to cook for dinner and share their expertise in cooking recipes.
With Noob, they would work together to calm the shaking, trembling that came after rounds. They would hug each other to calm their nerves, use breathing techniques and do finger exercises between rounds to increase their focus and concentration. He needed a little more time to approach the Hacker and Twotime, and this was mutual on both sides. Epitaph was too cautious and suspicious of them for now. They also enjoy evenings when someone of the team play charades or set up a shadow theater by the fireplace. He doesn't mind playing cards.
Soon, they find a hobby in the category of hand-made activities. He started carving wood, first simple patterns, figurines for board games, and now he could even engrave a pattern on a door frame. However, this is completely unpopular. On the other hand, this activity can ground him in the evenings and calm his mind from unnecessary worries. Fortunately, even with such a small arsenal of carpentry tools in the workshop, he managed to find an abandoned chisel.
The evening didn't drag on too long, and most of them had already gone to sleep and were either dreaming or not. Taph, on the other hand, couldn't sleep because he was thinking about many things at a time, while the topics echoed one another.
Epitaph had no idea what this letter was supposed to mean or if it was even meant to be a letter. On one hand, it was great to receive feedback on his mentorship, and they had attended some award ceremonies where he had been recognized for his skills. On the other hand, the administrators were already aware of their exceptional abilities, and performing their duties was a routine task for them.
A day later, he took the signed envelope to the Builder's room, managing to do so even during a break in rounds. When he reached the door, he knocked a couple of times, more out of habit than anything else, and when there was no response, he entered, looked around, and placed the letter on the bedside table. Taph no longer worries about the manuscript, at least not until he has to face the response, if there is one. They are unable to convey what they want to express in any other way, and they even knows how awkward, clumsy, quick, and unstructured their movements would be if they were to speak in person. The thought makes him shudder. Immediately after, Taph moves to the main room, waiting for the other arrivals.
Later that evening, they all gather in a common space, each going about their own business and needs. As Epitaph engages in a game of pool with Chance and Shedletsky, one of them taking the lead in their winnings, he strikes up a conversation with the Builder. They step aside, with Taph continuing to observe the game from a distance.
Builder begins by saying that he was amazed and flattered by the text addressed to him: "I really didn't know that I could leave such a lasting impression, because when you learn about something like this in the case of a specific person, it gives you a different perspective on the picture of our actions." Taph nods, gesturing: *You and the other administrators have truly made an incredible contribution to the process of creating and managing structures.* Builderman agrees, telling them, "I would be even more refreshed in my memories of those days if you were to scold us for any mistakes, because let's be honest, we certainly didn't avoid them. I even remember one of the new recruits getting hit on the leg with a sledgehammer when he wasn't wearing the appropriate boots... And that's just one of the minor incidents. Do you have any stories to share?"
Taph, after a moment's hesitation, wanted to create a list of such issues, which took some time. What they could call inconvenient conditions were the noise and air pollution in certain areas, the activities of criminal groups and gangs, and the crowded streets of the metropolis. Demolition expert wrote that life outside the city seemed calmer and more familiar to him. He had grown up surrounded by a small town.
Placing his hands on his heart for a while, Epitaph finds a connection from his daily observations: he is like the pigeons in his fate, as they nest wherever they can, often leading their nestling to their deaths, and they eat whatever they are fed. They are too attached to their habitat to leave it. This is his own speculation. What sets him apart from the pigeons is his inability to take to the skies and relocate.
Builder's face crestfallen when he saw this. "The environment really makes a difference, and it must have been difficult for you to cope with your high sensitivity to all the stimuli in the area. I can't say for sure whether the benefits are worth the inconvenience." Taph simply nodded in response, bowing slightly and clasping his hands behind his back. He rejoined the conversation, gesturing that all he had ever wanted was to retire and live in a small house in the countryside, and that had come true...not in the way he expected. It is necessary to specify your goals and dreams for the future. Which cannot be predicted for sure. He shrugged his shoulders, expressing the lack of involvement of the people themselves in some events.
-*At least you guys keep my mind in the center of the level, thank you for that.* Builder grins, sighs, and puts his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "Please, we're always here to support each other," he says, looking around at everyone in the lobby. "I am happy that I can say the same about you and others."
Taph finally decided to bring up a sensitive topic that had been bothering him for months. Since they're talking about something like that, he could technically have mention this past conflict of the parties. They signed: *During the days of the protest marches, when I didn't have a clear plan for dealing with the influx of protesters, I was trapped in my own home. I couldn't leave or stay there any longer. I felt betrayed, and neither my friends, colleagues, nor my superiors could do anything about it. Many people, like me, were injured, while others were killed or put in a difficult situation by our actions.*
*After a while, I realized that you, as part of the headquarters, couldn't resolve the situation quickly. This chain of reactions and events led to what we have now. I even know the main culprit, and I can be angry with them. Throughout the story, Taph's grip gradually loosened as he became more relaxed. Builderman wondered: "That we could do for them now, if it made sense, because we have underestimated the scale of the disaster?"
*Just be there. When it's necessary, okay?*-Epitaph was completely dejected, a runny nose approaching his nose, and without thinking about the cleanliness of his clothes, he ran his glove under his nose. "Okay, I'll keep an eye on you," the Builder said, shaking theirs hand with his two hands, wishing to return to the past, with emptiness in his soul. But it couldn't be done. Not with any engineering thought. Builder stepped back, giving the explosives technician space to recover. "Thank you for your bravery, I would not want to remain ignorant of such important matters for you any longer." He paused, unsure of what else to say.
Leaving his companion, Taph was on his way to his seat at the table. He clenched and unclenched his palms several times, then let them hang over the edge of the table as he settled in. They held up well, and everything went good. This made Taph feel a sense of calm and a slight shiver. His focus shifted to Guest and TwoTime, who were dealing with something that he couldn't see from his seat.
The time was approaching when they would all be called to the table, and a light doze overcame the weary people. Taph was determined to do everything possible to get out of here one day. Never able to call any place home again, and using his inventory items for their intended purpose caused him anger and confusion. Taph was determined to deal with it.