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There were whispers that floated through his head. Voices that knew things no one should be capable of acquiring. When he was young it was quieter, they were clearer, he’d even have full discussions with them as easily as he would the other children in his bastion. They were the ones who saved his life when his home was raided. They were the ones who maintained his sanity during his solitary confinement when living in The Pit. They were his first friends.
And then more came.
By his early teens, the sound was deafening. Voices intersected behind his eardrums, and while no one else could hear their chanting screams, Techno's first friends became the boy’s ears. He could no longer connect to the noise that escaped the lips of men standing in front of him, but it didn’t matter when his Chatters always knew what they truly wanted from the chained piglin. And his Chatters always shared. It made him more stilted perhaps, as his keepers stopped bothering trying to talk with him, the years passing in a silence he couldn’t hear for himself.
Each voice didn’t raise in octave often, normally sticking to a humming whisper; but as their numbers expanded an army of humming resting in his eardrums would overwhelm what the outside world could ever have wanted to say. They were a constant hum that thrummed like a swarm of bees in Technoblade’s ears. Having been taken to the Pit so young from his home, learning English as his hearing was consumed became difficult. His keepers were no help either, covering their lips in thick black cloths when they noticed him stare at the shapes made in speech. Soon they stopped bothering to call for Techno, instead choosing to throw rocks and pails of water at him through his cell bars to get his attention or yank him by the length of his hair when directing him. The little autonomy the boy had when first arriving was progressively stripped away as his guards began manhandling him into submission rather than ask him to put on his own handcuffs before a match. Learning to lip read was impossible. After all, the only people who spoke with him no longer had lips to read.
He could hear the screams though; fighting in the pit. Blood curdling screeches could pierce through the whispering static like butter. A past cellmate’s cries in the night before they transferred him to a solitary cell had haunted Techno’s dreams for years with the question of ‘why?’ What horrors had Techno avoided that?
Techno understood he was different, that his existence didn’t fit into the expectations of others. So he fought. It was what the voices’ yearned for and was his only chance to run. To stretch. To breathe. He was chosen to live based on the blind bets of the traffickers that slaughtered Techno’s home. There was no crutch to lean on for support to figure out what was happening to him, just a damp quiet cell block where no one had to listen to the intelligible ramblings of a pig .
Until;
Cold splashed Techno’s left side; winter slush tossed through his bars forcing tremors down his spine. He blinked and peered at two yellow cloaked guards leering down at him. They were speaking to one another; mocking, he could see it in the tilt of their hips and how they were leering toward the door of his cell.
He rose to his feet and held out his wrists.
He knew that it’d been a long time since his hair had been properly washed, the matting was beginning to get bad enough that the fear of it needing to be chopped away was becoming tangible. Yet as the biting cold of steel clamping around his wrists dragged him from the cell, he kept his eyes trained down and listened to the whispers.
Hair
Techno stick
Hair ruined pog
You need to ask about a bath
Techno stink* KEKW
Yeah , His mind grumbled, real helpful guys .
The journey to the staging area was the same path he’d been using since he was a runt. The cells he passed were humming with a familiar competitive energy. He could see on the edge of his peripherals where gladiators were pushing against their cells to stare. Mouths were bobbing open and closed and just like every time Techno was permitted out, those wordless lips pressing hard on his shoulders. His back tickled with unheeded whispers he knew were being shot in his direction. But the cell block remained as blessedly short as it always was, the shake of the door slamming behind him sending ripples up his bare hooves and closing away the stares.
The staging room reeked of sweat, blood, and vomit- the dirt padded floors matched the arena in clear view from the brass gate entrance just across from the vestibule Techno and his keepers were walking through. Gladiators from as small as piglet sized creatures to men twice Techno’s entire body were armoring up or sharpening their blades. And, watching the fight just outside, the boy stood and waited for his hands to be unchained and his ankles to be marked for competition.
No other captives attempted speaking with him, few simply turning and nodding slightly in recognition. Techno didn’t mind, waltzing to the weapon’s rack and swinging around a rusted cutlass for a second before also pulling down a crossbow and settling it at his hip. As the piglin sharpened his blade he watched the fight outside.
It took little time to see the brilliant wings that swept through the arena. In the light of high noon, the sun shone bright through the barred ceiling and made the wings shine blue atop its black feathering. They moved fast, fast enough that Tech couldn't make out much beyond a flash of gold and green clothing… A vibrant green, they must be new. It was a thrill to watch, the bird brutally slicing their opponent bit by bit; whittling him down to his knees with a slow methodical efficiency. But just as fast as they were flying, the bird stopped and dropped to the floor. They looked human now that Techno could get a better look, just baring massive wings that dropped off their back like a jeweled black cape. The ref was dashing to the scene, confident it was over in a way Techno couldn’t quite comprehend.
That was something the boy struggled with, knowing when it was over.
The bird man’s fist was thrust into the air by the ref and was escorted inside. Before the gate opposite the staging space closed. Technoblade watched 5 or so guards clamp something onto the human’s wings.
Something yanked Technoblade’s arm, dragging him out of his reverie as well as his seat. Head shooting around, the piglin realized it was his handler. Time to go then, okay. Techno puffed out his chest and drew up to his full height. He was yanked to the arena entrance and into the waiting cell. Just as always, he held up his arms through the long pause that his handler took to unclasp his chains. A hulking polar bear was pushed into the cell across the arena square and after one more slightly shorter pause that always set the voices off into a screaming mess-
Blood for the blood god
Noooo but its cute
Kill it!
EZ
Blood for the blood god!!
- His handler released his collar and pushed him into the arena, but not before tugging the cutlass out of Techno’s grip.
He gaped at the gate as it closed with a thud that rippled against the ground. At the roar of a starved animal loud enough to rise above Chat’s noise, Techno pulled himself around and crouched ready to run. The beast pushed into the other side of the arena, blood matting its fur and in its teeth. He almost smiled.
Chat, can you believe this?! My hair looks like that doesn’t it? I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me to shower.
As he expected, this provided a momentary distraction from the voices as they screamed in protest and Techno started circling the bear. Neither threw themselves in immediately, but the boy knew he wasn’t the one starving. It was only a matter of time before- He threw himself to the left, the cloven part of his hooves slipping in the loose dirt. A dirty mass of white clawed forward and looked prepared to pounce. Already half down from the slip, he kicked off the ground when the bear leaped for him and slid just beneath its hulking body. It was as he slid Techno remembered the crossbow at his back. He scrambled to his feet and ran a distance from where he felt the ground shaking from the polar bear’s collision.
Skitting to a stop, Techno yanked out his crossbow and loaded in a bolt. The bear had slammed into the gate head-on so, as it shook itself off, Techno aimed for the base of its ear. He released the trigger just as it twisted around to spot its prey. The bolt plunged into its back and elicited a raging roar that shook the ground enough for Techno to feel it.
Panic swam in his stomach as another bolt was loaded. He shot it head on as it charged, but watched in horror as the bolt flew wide and plunged into the dirt. The beast was racing forward too fast to dodge at that point and a stupid idea swept into his mind. Yanking out a bolt and slipping it into his teeth, he latched the crossbow back onto his hip and opened his arms in a crouch. Just before it was in reach, Techno pounced. He clung to the fur and swung around with some effort to grasp the front of its neck.
They toppled together, struggling to overpower the other. Only after he had his leg clenched tight did Techno pull out the bolt from his teeth and sink it into the beast’s neck just above its bloody collar. The painful jolt rocketed him off the bear's back and skidded him into a wall. He landed on his left, leg landing wrong and crushing the crossbow against the bricks and swinging awkwardly in pieces still hooked to the leg.
Techno felt his throat tear as he screamed. With some shuffling, leg burning in agony, he stared down at his broken weapon and the now snapped last 2 cross bolts. There was no time to rejoice over false victories when the voices said the fight wasn’t done. They were never wrong when it came to a fight. With a shaky breath, Technoblade stood and bared his teeth at the creature that had somehow lived and was also slowly getting to its feet.
He pulled out the last two bolts and limped closer to the center of the arena. There was a rumbling in his chest that Techno remembered was a growl, his face drawn into a snarl. The two slammed into each other, Techno raming one of the bolts into the polar bear’s mouth before it could bite him. The heat of its fierce breath pushed the piglin’s hair away from his face, the scent was putrid and acidic, similar to Techno’s own. Half ducking back as it swiped at him, the other bolt sunk into the center of its paw. He was unable to stop himself from wincing when dancing back a bit and taking in the pain on his opponent’s face. It was teetering slightly, eyes hazy yet still burning with anger.
Techno hated fighting animals, always feeling a kindred connection to the chained up beasts that had been shoved against him over the time he’d been here. He’d learned young to not let his mournful regret hinder a fight, but sometimes the remorse forced the boy to pause and absorb the brutality he was capable of. This time that feeling was to his own detriment as a claw tore into his shoulder.
Fire erupted on his collar as blood seeped from his skin. Red swept over Techno’s vision, the voices screaming in silent rage. Their fire washed over him head to toe, pushing for control, but he blocked it out. Hunkering back down a bit he pounced for the back of the beast for a second time, his leg screaming in agony. The bear had the same collar as Techno circling its neck, but it was too wide and heavy to yank at properly. He grabbed it before he could be bucked off and used his teeth to unhook the string from his broken crossbow that was still clinging to his hip. Tossing away the wood, he threw his arms around the thick neck and grasped onto either end of the string before pulling as hard as he could.
The beast thrashed against the choking grip, wobbling violently from side to side. It even rammed itself against the limestone walls, Techno’s elbow and right leg shuttering at the impact. Yet, his grip stayed vice.
The death wasn’t slow and it couldn’t be called kind. After what felt like a century Techno hobbled off of the dead animal and looked up. Bodies were throwing themselves against the caged ceiling, banging against each other and shaking their fists in the air. Looking back down he stared at the hulking body that lay still at his feet. It was numbingly familiar.
He didn’t move until someone, the ref no doubt, shoved his fist into the air for a few moments. The man’s voice was amplified enough that a fuzzy humm filtered past the voices, but Techno didn’t bother reading into it. Inflections in the man’s voice were familiar, no doubt yelling the same thing he yelled about Technoblade every fight like some sort of record. He waited for the wrist to be released and dropped before limping toward the same gate the bird man had been escorted through.
His handlers met him there. A leather bind was wrapped around his wrists before being led to the clinic. It wasn’t the most sanitary place, but Techno trusted it with more than his life after all the time he’d stayed here. The nurses came and went about as frequently as fresh meat for the pit did. The piglin didn’t know if that was from the horror of it all or something worse but he’d decided that it didn’t really matter. So he waltzed past the gladiators worse off than himself and plopped on a bench to wait.
Like most instances of his time in the clinic, Techno dozed. Floating away from it all, he tried to think of nothing. His eyes would glare forward and the voices would chatter like usual and he would just sit in the sunlight while it was available and just be. Unaware of how long this lasted, he jolted back to himself when someone planted themself directly where he was glaring.
It was the birdman. He had golden hair and eyes similar to the overworld sky he could see through the arena’s caged roof. His haori was turning a strange brown as the blood on it dried, and some blood was still dripping down his forehead. Yet the smile directed his way remained wide.
“The tight was -credibull “ Techno squinted for a second in confusion at the man’s lips.
Yeah we’re great
More fighting!!
He’s bleeding
Yoo blood pog
“That fight was incredible” , It clicked.
“Thankyou,” The words felt thick on his tongue, but he hoped it came out ok, “You are good too. Fast.”
Again he received a bright grin. Dread pooled in his gut when the golden bird man opened his mouth again. This time nothing clicked, his mouth moved too fast to understand. The prolonged pause only made it worse, leaving Techno clueless on what he was responding to. This guy must be super fresh if no one told him by now that Techno was too broken to try talking to. As he chattered away, Techno desperately looked around for his handlers. All three had left the room, leaving him in the care of the guards stationed by the doors. The realization made his gut sink further.
Communication was a wasted thing on Techno, the voices speaking in his mind included. While they seemed to transcend any man made language, they only helped when their vessel was at risk. Though, they would occasionally respond for him when people asked simple requests. In an attempt to not seem rude, Techno did sit through whatever it was the man was saying, but the familiar look of confusion he got after a few minutes of not comprehending a word being spewed usually made its own natural end to conversation. Only this time Techno watched him squint with a calculating gaze when the piglin gave a few failed words back to what he thought the crow man was saying.
He began to slow down and spoke staring right into the boy’s eyes, “ Are oo def?”
Techno stared blankly forward, tilting his head in question.
The man lifted his ink black talons and pointed to his own ears before pointing to Techno and shaking his head, “ Can you ear me mate? ”
Oh.
He shook his head.
He watched the man’s eyebrows scrunch up and begin moving his hands strangely. There was a long pauseTechno wasn’t sure the meaning of. As he watched the blonde begin to open his mouth, the pale blue of a nurse’s scrubs peaked into the corner of Techno’s eye and he turned to be addressed. He recognized this nurse, her large puff of white streaked hair tied back in a ponytail revealing the droopy ears of a sheep hybrid. She stood tall at attention, commanding all her patients’ gazes. Of the many nurses he had been seen to over the years she was one of two that had managed to stick around for more than two full cycles of this overworld’s seasons.
They smiled at each other, Techno’s ears ringing with the joyful screams of;
Puffy!!!!
POG SHES BACK
Hi queen
Queen
OUR QUEEN PUFFY
She stepped forward to work, pulling potion bottles out off her leather belt where a variety of colored bottles were hooked. Passing three familiar bottles over that he drank without question- regeneration, healing, and slowness (which he had realized a number of years ago was to help him slow the blood flow of his worst injuries)- Techno watched her shake hands with the birdman and speak for a time. It took a while, but eventually the two came to some sort of agreement on which potions he was willing to drink.
Expecting the woman to walk away to tend to the next patient, Techno turned away to continue basking in the sunlight while he could. But at the insistence of The Chatter he soon turned back and saw the two looking at him and talking amongst each other. He raised his eyebrows and stared. Neither seemed abashed at being caught speaking about him to the piglin’s face, in fact, at the look both grew large amused smiles in their lips. The crow even seemed to have snorted at how his nose flared and shoulders shook. Techno blinked.
Surprising. That was what it was, surprising. His own smile grew at the open atmosphere and illusion of privacy within the great hall of injury filled beds, mouth awkwardly working to the form words, “Hallo.”
Both began to speak back, but now that he had their attention he felt an old interest in finally getting one simple question answered. Opening his mouth again the two seemed to pause. Techno pointed at Puffy and asked, “Yor name is Puffy?”
Chat screamed with joy as he watched her smile become more indulgent while gifting him one short nod. Puffy was a good name; it matched her poof of fudge brown hair and the curly white baby hairs that framed her face. Techno gave his own nod at that and smiled in what he was sure appeared more like a grimace from the aged scar that curled and flexed over the crease of the left side of his face. The scar traveled up to the base of his snout. He could remember feeling how his face felt before the skin had been burned away and regrafted on. Just as he remembered that it was this nurse, Puffy, who looked down on him with a kindness he’d never seen before as he went under for surgery.
He pointed to that scar after a moment and nodded once again to the nurse trying to push the most sincerity he could through his eyes, “Thank you Puffy.”
Techno could feel the eyes of the crowman having stared at him through the whole of their stilted short conversation, but Techno knew that time was up and he was about to head back to his cell so he didn’t bother analyzing it. The skin of his busted leg was well on its way to healing as the regeneration potion worked its magic to sew the muscles and nerves back to where they belonged. And he was correct as he watched both onlookers turn their eyes away from him before he felt the familiar yank of a guard pulling him back. With little grace to be found, he allowed himself to be pulled off his medical cot and lead back toward the door. He left the two behind to continue on discussing whatever it was he couldn’t join in on and had no interest in being clued into.
Just as the walk to the arena was uneventful, the walk back to his cell felt just the same as it always had.
And ‘the same’ was how it stayed for another few weeks.
Until the crow was thrown into Techno’s cell one evening with little fanfare and he was left staring at what he could only assume to be his new roommate. His hair was charred on the edges now and the haori was black with soot, any green dirtied past recognition in the time since the two had met. As they stared at the other, Techno couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the man’s lack of eyebrows. Whatever he had gotten up to to get moved to Techno’s room must have really pissed some people off. This revelation thrilled the Chatters, their jubilation motivating a small welcoming smile to form on Techno’s lips that was easily returned by his new sleepy eyed roommate.
“Hallo.” Because, really, what else was there to say?
“ Hi mate ,” He said, holding onto his grin and walking over, it looked like, for a hand shake, “ Name’s Phil.”
After a moment of consideration, the piglin took his hand. It was stilted and awkward and new and he couldn’t help but gaze at his hand as it tingled in confused wonder at such ambient contact. When he looked back up, Techno once again caught that squished look Phil had been making at him before they were interrupted by nurse Puffy. Unsure of what that look meant, the boy half glared at him to stop. Though, just like last time, Phil just seemed to exhale in good humor at the look before dropping it and looking around.
There wasn’t too much to see. Their light sources were two torches hung from the walls just outside the bars of the cell. The floor was covered by a matted dirt, but in the right hand corner of the cell some of it had been dug away to reveal a wash of purple obsidian. Next to that hole was a toilet and sink both bolted to the deceiving floor. The cell had no mirror, no toiletries, and a single bed that Techno had long browned with sweat and dirt and blood. There was no window, but if you were to look out through the cell bars and across the hall, you could see a small patch of white light shining in from the cell mirroring Techno’s own. He didn’t say anything as the crow looked around, instead investigating him as he walked.
The black feathers that poked through the man’s restraining harness shined an iridescent blue even in the dim fire light. He was sweating somewhat and panting, likely having just come from the arena. This cell block was near always chilled, made worse now by the cold of winter, so as Phil’s sweat began to dry small shivers rippled visibly up his spine. Techno noted he looked much younger than he initially considered, face roughed from a hard life, sure, but not aged from it. Certainly no older than his mid twenties. There was a pep in his step as he looked around too. The piglin assumed that it must’ve been a hard fight for him to feel this gratified about moving to Techno’s completely empty cell block with Techno of all people to be stuck alone with. It had been many cycles since he had been provided with a roommate, but, as the crow turned on his heel with interest in his eyes, Techno had a feeling life was finally going to get a little more interesting.