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Techno’s land was, more often than not, a very calm place where people rarely went out of their way to get to. It was way too far for anyone to bother even if they knew where it was and that was alright with him. He preferred quiet nights in his cottage more than he could explain, especially when he knew that his neighbors were fast asleep and there was no government breathing down their necks looking to kill them. It was nice and calm. It was life he would bleed for thousand times again.
Despite that, his ability to fall asleep for shorter periods of time didn’t get much better. It didn’t matter much that their land was safe and calm; he was still wary and his mind kept on bugging him to stay on his toes. The mere thought or attempt to do otherwise were punished by gruesome nightmares that made even him scream out occasionally depending on how hard they hit him. Only time when he would crash would be when his body finally decided that it can’t fight the exhaustion. Still it didn’t matter, his years spent with those same issues taught him that he can still rest and recharge after a hard day without actually sleeping. Techno’s favorite method, among many other less preferable ones, was just curling up on his bed with blankets over his body and a book with ragged edges in his hands. He would always know how it ends, despite that he would still take comfort in familiar worlds and characters, enjoying the book all the same time after time. Voices were usually quiet during this time too, discussing the stories and characters between themselves.
Techno’s mind was far from his small attic room and the world they lived in, imagining the stories play out, before the thunder was heard in the distance and his head snapped up to look through the window, at the snow storm preparing. He assumed that it would start by the morning, years of working in the fields looking at the sky and hoping ice wouldn’t start ruining his crops made it easy to tell.
Just as he sighed, counting through things he will have to do in the morning, and lowered his gaze back to his book the loud knocking on his doors. Of course there was a knock on the door just as voices calmed down and he just wanted to read.
Intruder?
they interrupted
Blood for the blood god!
what happens next?
go back to reading
Get rid of them
Techno sighed, making a small sound in the back of his throat. His hand flew up to his face, moving his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose: “We will go back to readin’ when I check this out, stop being annoyin’.”
With that he gently lowered his book, placing it on the blankets before he scrambled out from below them. Techno let out a hiss at the cold floor that met his feet but it was more for the theatrics and the fact that he spent several hours warm and comfortable under his blankets than anything else. On the way down he threw a look on his appearance in the reflection of his axe that sat by the wall. It really made him hope that no one he actually needed to intimidate was downstairs. It wasn’t anything in particular, but he did look a bit ridiculous with taped up glasses that had a chain running around his neck so they wouldn’t fall down and break; he really looked like an old man (perhaps he was, years of fighting and living in fear of being attacked by everyone took a toll on his face and body, leaving marks that Phil points out are just a show of his wisdom, but Phil is also an old man, he’s pretty biased).
Old man Techno
loool get a cane grampa
Of course, the voices would jump at any chance to tease him for it, but he decided to do what he does best and ignore them (even if ignoring them usually doesn’t work). He swiftly scaled the stairs, shooting a look to his sword leaning by his front door, just for confirmation that it was there. For a moment Techno’s eyes landed on Steve who was sleeping by the fire. All that he got out of the bear was a sleepy yawn, which was probably promising, if the person on the door was no threat it made sense why Steve wouldn’t get up to stand by Techno’s side when he opened the door.
With a yawn of his own, and without much care since it could even be Ranboo now that he thought about it, Techno opened the door, his hand scratching the back of his head lightly.
And at that moment he really, really wishes he just didn’t. In front of him was a man with a haunted smile and various capes and rags hanging from his body stitched and mended by hands of a man so overtaken by his own misery, one Techno was quite familiar with as the man started appearing more and more often around perimeters all around his base, which wasn’t appreciated by any of the people living inside of the gates. His sentiment wasn’t shared by the voices, but that was one thing he made a point to ignore. The voices loved Dream and often screamed at him when they thought they saw him even if it was just some lime concrete, Techno very much disagreed with them and wanted the green menace to get as far away from him as he could
“Dream it’s midnight I’m not--”, just as Techno started speaking, in a hurry to get rid of the man and go back to reading his book.
Before he could finish the man cut him off, throwing his hands around with white mask in his hand: “Techno you gotta listen to me come on! Just hear me out!”
The whining voice was slowly, but surely pissing Techno off, but that could be written off as his usual annoyance he had from the homeless mess that’s Dream (don’t get him wrong, they knew each other for awhile and have been friends just as long despite the friendly rivalry. Techno wouldn’t hesitate to help him if he needed, but to say that Dream’s nonsense didn’t piss him off sometimes would just be a plain lie.)
“Listen, it’s late and whatever you got to tell me, it can wait until the mornin’, alright?”, finally the piglin hybrid mumbled behind another yawn, one of the floppy ears twitching because of the cold telling him he should go back inside soon.
“But Techno it’s important!”, once again the yelling started and if he was being entirely honest it took Techno everything he had not to cover his ears with his hands and hope that the green menace would just disappear, as he often did when he was ignored, it was decent enough of a strategy in hindsight.
Suddenly however just covering his ears didn’t seem like a good idea when he remembered Phil was sleeping just across the bridge, curled up and asleep for the first time Techno could remember (he was the one who carried Phil from the fireplace in his cottage to the bed earlier that night). Right after that he remembered the kid had nightmares sometimes and despite not being sure if he was in his small shack (it would always be the shack, no matter how built up it got) he still didn’t think that Dream waking him up was a good idea. Opening the doors several minutes earlier was a decision Techno was coming to regret faster than he regretted showing L’manburgians his previous base.
With fast movement he reached to clasp a hand over Dream’s mouth, but as soon as he reached he noticed an almost invisible shiver that ran through Dream’s body, it screamed fear, like Dream wanted nothing more to run. Despite wanting to get rid of him Techno wasn’t about to exploit something he knew he shouldn’t, he wasn’t that type of person, he knew it hurt.
Just as Dream collected himself and continued his speech, Techno put up a finger to his own lips to silence him and spoke over him: “Dream people are asleep, can you be any louder? If this is so important say it, just be quiet . Alright?”
Sometimes talking to Dream was exhausting, especially after the man lost any actual rational thoughts and there was nothing but ramble coming from him at all times, with monologues that stretched into oblivion.
Tonight though it seemed like he understood the worry in Techno’s eyes and the way his eyes darted towards two buildings every so often because just as his eyes sparked with realization he covered his own lips with his finder imitating Techno.
“Okay, good, now tell me so I can go back to readin’ and restin’ alright?”, finally Techno relaxed, hugging his own body and leaning onto the door frame, he was getting way too tired and worn down for Dream’s antics.
“Wait, wait”, it was mumbled under his breath and Techno was really about to slam the door in his face but used all the self control he had to continue standing in the cold air of their home.
The silence, filled only with their breathing and Steve’s soft grunts and snores, dragged on for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor it was comfortable, it was plainly weird and confusing to immeasurable extent. After some time Techno cocked his head to look better at his friend (?), but was only met with a man looking towards the sky with focused expression. It seemed like this was another one of Dream’s off moments when he came around just to be annoying or see Techno get angry, which in all honesty wasn’t all that rare before he went to prison. Maybe this was just falling back into the old habits. Just as Techno pushed himself off of the door frame, ready to go into the house, since he had no death wish that would come in the form of pneumonia, thunder and lightning struck, making him just slightly flinch, but what surprised him more was when he looked at Dream.
Man seemed to have registered the lighting and thunder just a tad late so his reaction ended up delayed, with surprise filled with pride and joy covering his face as if he was a kid given candy on a work day in the field. He was quick to snap out of it and scramble on his feet to get into position, looking down to his feet as if they needed to be in exact position as he turned his back to Techno before he spread his arms accompanied with a dramatic turn and whisper yelled with weird glint in his eye that Techno couldn’t pinpoint: “ I’m a God! ”
Slightly hysterical laughter surrounded them both, with Dream breathing heavily with a huge smile on his face, making the stitches he had stretched in the most comfortable way from what Techno could see. For another moment Techno inspected Dream’s face before a sigh left his mouth. This was nothing new. Ever since Dream presumably revived Tommy he has been going on tirades and rants about being a god. Going from door to door of everyone in the server, if what he heard from Niki was true. There have been two occasions where he has been presented with the same experience, just a few weeks back, but it came more in a form of Dream appearing around in the Nether while he was mining with Ranboo or Phil and trying to convince Techno that he was a God and that Techno should join him and help him make server into ‘one happy family’. Techno never really appreciated cults if he was entirely honest.
“For the last time Dream, I’m an atheist”, he sighed deeply, once again massaging the bridge of his nose, “please do your missionary business elsewhere or I swear on everything I believe in…”
That apparently was enough to stun Dream into a temporary silence and make puzzled expressions appear on his face. In that moment Techno could see his guard fall to allow him to think, something that Techno knew would never happen before. Something that Dream in his right wouldn’t allow to happen (he was just as paranoid as Techno himself was), but it was apparent that who came out of that torture box wasn’t Dream Techno knew all that time. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on that, there was nothing he could really do at the moment. Techno focused on Dream’s form, now filled with shivers and tremors from the cold wind of upcoming blizzard. Besides that there was an angry red color filling Dream’s face and covering his cheeks that seemed like inevitable fever. Maybe he could do something . But he shouldn’t he didn’t feel bad for Dream. They were just acquaintances. It wasn’t his job to make sure that Dream doesn’t freeze to death in some corner of the tundra around them. He didn’t care that Dream had no way to get out of the blizzard in the state he was in. He didn’t.
Help him
RIVALS LETS GO
Help him
help
help
homeless blob
He will die
“But Techno you saw it! I made lightning appear and all!”, he was tugged out of his thoughts by Dream’s instant jump back into his rant, “I’m a God Techno! Join me! We can make this server a better place!”
It was a sad sight, how that terrifying spark sparkled behind Dream’s eyes just like how it sparkled behind Wilburs all that time ago in dark corners of Pogtopia, with giggles of thoughts filled with fear and paranoia overtaking every bit of his mind. It wasn’t right. Dream was nothing like Wilbur. Maybe, just maybe, somewhere in the back of his mind one of the voices whispered ‘ he’s like you’ and he took it to heart. He could see it too. The way everyone expected them to be the villains, the way Dream took the role because no other role was left to take and Wilbur was a harsh director. He wanted Dream to take the role because he fit so perfectly. Even if it took shaving off who Dream was to leave a shell not strong enough to come out of prison in the same shape. These people, all of them who didn’t see the way Wilbur shaped Dream or turned a blind eye, were the same ones who wanted Techno to fit the same role until he tore their script and wrote his own.
“It’s not a government! It’s religion! It’s different. It is! You’re following a God! Techno you know-”, the ramble would have continued and Techno was aware that Dream could talk into the night, but it was just getting colder and colder.
It truly was sad, the way Dream ran out of breath as he desperately tried to convince him. His hands flung around until the mask that meant everything to him fell out of his hand and ended up on the floor without him even noticing it was missing. He could see the trembling from Dream’s body, but it was so hard to tell why. Was he cold because the wind was threatening to blow him away or was it because he was so scared that someone was lurking around the corner. Or was it fear that he will once again be turned away that hid deep under Dream’s skin, coated with layers upon layers of broken glass that was meant to protect the frail soul that still longed to be cared for. There was so much hiding under that skin and in Dream’s eyes that Techno knew if he tried to fix it all at once he would be pulled into the same hell. There was still fighting in Techno, whether he should just turn around and leave, but all doubt was gone when he moved just to readjust so his body would be more comfortable and Dream’s hand flew up to grab on his shirt.
The look on his face seemed so desperate and so horribly human that everything in Techno’s body screamed to help him. There was no doubt in his mind that he would try to help. He knew that fixing Dream won’t be something easy and he certainly can’t be the one to fix him. But he can offer a hand. He can offer understanding and sympathy that he knew won’t be shown from anyone else. Techno knew that from experience.
With a gentle hand he covered the trembling one that shook so much, so horribly much that it made Techno’s entire shirt shake with it: “I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to catch a death out here. So if you wish to continue your missionary work can we bring it inside? This weather really isn’t something I appreciate.”
He wasn’t about to pity Dream, because he still respected him enough not to do that and it would be horribly hard to get Dream into the house anyways. Techno knew he had to play it smart, like he was approaching a hurt, frightened animal in the middle of a forest. He kept his eyes locked on Dream’s, attempting to show no harm, because if he did Dream would bolt faster than Techno could catch him. He seemed so much more vulnerable than when he appeared, so much more skittish, but that might be written off to Techno actually reading him more intently. If Techno was honest, Dream has been that way ever since the prison, but everyone just ignored it. It was easier to see a monster than someone hurt and broken.
With Dream being able to look into his eyes Techno was able to do the same, but instead of seeing what Dream saw in his he saw a battle. He wondered if it was a battle between his fear and his lack of human contact, the craving Techno was all too familiar with from years spent isolating himself from people so they wouldn’t hurt him. Perhaps it was a battle between the part of him that trusted Techno and part of him that was so horribly scared of him. But after a moment it seemed like the battle calmed and irises once again filled the emerald eyes making them seem almost doe like (how fitting).
Dream continued to stand still for another few moments, his gaze lowering to Techno’s hand before the wind whistled and made both of them shiver because of it.
Dream’s shoulders shot up to his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting until the wind had passed to give Techno fast nods of head: “Only so I can use the time to convince you and explain this better!”
“Sure thing homeless man, whatever ya say”, Techno teased lightly, falling back into the habit yet still he kept his tone like he was about to touch a rabbit with an arrow in it’s leg.
With that he gently started uncurling Dream’s fingers from his shirt, fighting resistance with gentle tugs until the hand let go. It didn’t seem like Dream noticed the awkward situation, his eyes fixated onto the hand while Techno did. When his hand finally fell Techno moved a step to get closer to Dream’s mask to pick it up, but the other man already rushed past him into the cottage when he moved. He didn’t mind it much no matter how much he wished he did. With hands much gentler than people would expect of him he picked up the smiley mask, a sad expression crossing his face at cracks and messily redrawn smile on it, to fix the parts that have gone lighter. It has been a long time since a man with precision good enough to land on a single branch hanging above the lava that Dream was disappeared.
Techno shook his head, willing himself not to think about the tragedy of Dream losing to his demons bit by bit. It would only make him feel even worse for the man. A protege, man known through all of the land, one expected to become great and do great things lost to his own demons, stuck in his own personal hell. Story that hit too close to home. With that he turned on one foot, walking into his cottage. He closed the door lightly, making sure that it doesn’t bang against the door frame, he has read enough to know that it would be a bad idea with someone like Dream.
He turned around, his mouth open in order for Dream to go downstairs so he could set up a bed for him, but his heart softened, just slightly.
Dream’s face, relaxed as much as it could be, was stuffed into Steve’s fur, dirt on his face stark contrast to pure white of Steve’s fur. Dream’s hands were fisted in Steve’s fur, flexing just slightly. There was a laugh that left his lips and his eyes fell down onto Steve, who had his huge paws around the lean man and his head against his stomach, protecting it.
“Ya think he’s good?”, Techno asked naively, after a few moments of watching Dream’s breathing to make sure he’s asleep and couldn’t hear him, “Think we can help him?”
Steve, as always, said nothing, just looked towards him in a lazy manner that was followed with a small yawn. That was okay.
Techno walked over to the sleeping figure, with steps quiet enough not to disturb him. He leaned down and placed the mask on the crafting table to keep it safe from someone stepping on it. When he was satisfied with that he allowed himself to relax and lean against the table. He watched the flutter of Dream’s eyelashes and flinching of his hands. There was so much to unpack there. So much to do. So many people to talk to. For tonight it was time to rest and prepare. Techno pushed himself off, crossing the room to walk over to the ladders. He started walking up them, but something in his mind bugged him so he stopped.
Without turning around he took a deep breath and spoke in low tone: “How scared were you in there?”
It wasn’t meant to be heard and it wasn’t meant to earn an answer so after a moment of pandering, of flashed of his own past, dark cells with no light, unfair executions he faced so many times, he climbed upstairs.
Soon after the cottage was back in the state it was in before the self proclaimed god graced it steps. A warrior with a past too dark to look back to, curled up in the corner of his bed, with broken glasses hanging off his nose, his head leaning against the wall. Sleep was taking over his mind and his book was long forgotten, but it was okay, he needed rest for days to come.
Only thing different, only thing that would tell that there was a difference, was a soft, broken whisper that just for a split second broke the silence: “I would rather die than go back there.”