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Wilbur Soot was known for having extravagant parties.
All out balls, feasts, competitions, week-long celebrations, music and dance and food and drink and lights and plays and operas all because he wanted a party.
Most of the time, the party wasn’t even for anything specific. Wilbur just liked to have fun in that way. But when it was for something, a holiday or a birthday or something along those lines, Wilbur went further than usual - especially for his own.
Typically, this would be great fun. Techno might not enjoy all of it, but he did like seeing his brothers have fun, and sometimes the competitions were fun to participate in, or he’d get to have a nice dance with someone friendly.
It was less fun when someone was trying to kill Techno. Despite parties that Wilbur threw being good fun and well-meaning entertainment, it was extraordinarily difficult to keep full security throughout the events.
The combination of huge influxes of visitors - some of whom stayed for weeks, some of who visited for a day - and all of their luggage and the various places the parties took place, guards couldn’t keep up with everyone. It was overwhelming, even for the extensive staff employed under the royal family.
Wilbur didn’t want to tone down this year. He did, of course - he cared more about the safety of his brother than a party - but it was the year he turned 25, and it felt like a milestone for him. Techno had tried to figure out a way for them to let him just stay away from the parties while they were happening, but Phil had insisted that he wasn’t to leave the castle.
See, about six months before Wilbur’s birthday, Techno had received a death threat. At first, none of them paid much attention to it - they were royals, people threatened to kill them more often than they ate their meals. But these kept coming, and kept coming, until Techno found himself with a dagger held to his throat at a ball.
That was the first assassin they sent. They were detained and locked away, but they revealed no information and were eventually sentenced to a life sentence for attempted murder. Techno had disagreed with the prison sentence - his idea had been a duel, and if he won, the person revealed all information about the organization they worked for, but if they won, they went free - but the members of the Syndicate were clear what was to happen to the assassin.
The second assassin the organization sent was named Dream. Techno knew this because he kept coming back - he’d fail to kill Techno, but he’d escape any confines he was put in.
Every time Techno saw him, Dream had somehow managed to wiggle his way into the palace and to wherever Techno was. Even after the castle had been put on complete lockdown, after Techno was confined to his quarters and each entrance was guarded by a (supposedly) unnecessary amount of guards, Dream always managed to get inside.
Techno had to admit, regretfully, that Dream was an amazing assassin. Or, he would’ve been, if he could ever kill Techno. Because as good as he was at every other part of the whole ‘murder’ business, he could never kill Techno. Maybe Techno overpowered him, maybe the guards reached Techno in time, maybe Dream made a stupid mistake and had to run before he could even try.
Which brought them back to the party. Everyone in the Syndicate and in the royal family knew exactly what would happen if they opened their gates to such an extravagant party. Dream would find a way in easily, and Techno couldn’t leave, so if Wilbur were to do any kind of celebration, they’d have to be on their tightest security . Techno would have to keep constant watch and they’d have to limit the guest list as best as possible.
Eventually, Wilbur had come up with the idea for a singular ball. None of the typical arena watching or plays or even a feast - just a ball, for four to five hours. The guest list would be triple-checked and everyone through the door would have to provide clear identification of who they were.
Phil had been the one to deal with most of the security, but he asked Techno to check over it and decide a few things here and there. He was trying to leave a lot of the weight off of Techno’s shoulders, though, because he knew that the man was bad under pressure. (And because he knew of Techno’s rivalry with Dream.)
Techno had been given any information they had found on Dream, and he had studied it almost religiously in the weeks leading up to the ball. By the time the day of Wilbur’s birthday rolled around, he knew every single freckle on Dream’s face and every fleck of grey in his eyes - and his commonly used tactics for getting closer to a person.
The day was planned out in perfection. The gates would open at 6:30 pm exactly - every single guest would be accounted for, and once they all were, the gates would close again. This would likely take around an hour - the guest list was shockingly short, especially for someone like Wilbur, and the people who weren’t aware of the internal situation were extraordinarily confused by the unordinary circumstances regarding invitations.
Once all the guests were inside, the dances would begin. Small amounts of food and drink would start being served around 9:00 pm, and the ball would fully wrap up at 12:00 am. Everybody would be expected to vacate the premises at 12 - anyone who dawdled or tried to spend a little longer would have their ID and background re-checked at the door, even though they weren’t really worried about the people’s IDs once they left.
Every guard had been briefed on the specific schedule and made to memorize each part of their place for the night. The guard had been tripled from what it would normally be, and Techno had been asked to keep a sword in his suit despite it. Wilbur also held a small sword, and even Tommy had been allowed a dagger, despite both of them being trash with any kind of weapon.
But once the day had come, Wilbur had swung Techno into a much more fun aspect of the day. Despite the tension running around the castle and its guard, Wilbur dragged Techno into the world of suits with gorgeous gilded lining and deep maroon fabric.
Eventually, Techno was shoved into a changing room and told to put on the thing laid out inside for him. His makeup and hair would be done by a servant once he came out, but they were (mostly) sure he could dress himself.
Techno was given two options - a thick gown made of carmine and bronze cloth and a dark suit with black pants and a gorgeously shimmering maroon blazer. It took him a moment, but he picked the suit, slowly sliding on each piece.
The pants were tight around his waist, just on the edge of comfort and style. Techno appreciated the blazer being loose around his shoulders - he often had to get suits tailored to make sure they fit his broad shoulders.
If he was being honest, each piece of the suit complimented him much more obviously than he originally planned. The red of the blazer went well with his eyes and his pale complexion, and he liked the way that the over-one-shoulder cape fell like a waterfall over his arm. (It also hid the handle of his sheathed rapier from where it was sitting on his belt.)
When he emerged from the room he had dressed in, Wilbur gave him a loud wolf whistle, and Niki gave him a grin. Ranboo had a polite little clap to offer, and Phil clapped him over the shoulder before leading him over to the couple doing his makeup and hair.
The other members of the Syndicate were already dressed, although Wilbur still wasn’t in his own suit. Niki wore a jet-black dress that dripped down her skin like ink, Ranboo was dressed in a bottle-green suit that matched his single uncovered eye, and Phil wore a deep grey robe made to accent his wings. Jewelry threaded through his feathers.
Techno sat in the chair he was directed to, staring into the mirror as his hair was pulled back into a braided bun. Gold wrapped-rubies were placed into his ears along with his more traditional earrings, and finally, the last piece of his outfit was placed in his hands. A simple red mask that covered his upper face, lemon lining forming delicious swirling patterns in the edges.
He turned back to Phil, who pointed to a mask clutched in his own hand, black feathers sticking up from a fake and exaggerated bird's beak. Niki had a simple black mask with pastel pink threads woven through it, and Ranboo had a mask that dipped down over his mouth and appeared to be crying. It was split down the middle like his own face, though it was green and red instead of black and white. Wilbur, despite not having the rest of his outfit, had a deep blue mask with golden accents similar to Techno’s own.
The rest of the group had neglected to mention that this was a masquerade ball. Nonetheless, Techno slid the mask onto his own face, adjusting it so that it fit right. He could see through it fairly clearly, although it dimmed his peripheral vision a bit. He took it off again for the moment, choosing instead to hold it in his hands.
“You look great, mate,” Phil said, coming up to stand behind Techno. “The ball starts in about twenty minutes - you ready?”
“Ready to watch anyone around me in case they’re plannin’ on killin’ me? Yeah, I’m thrilled,” Techno responded, sarcasm lacing his voice. “How many people’re comin’ again?”
“One hundred and thirty... six? I think?” Phil paused. “Might be thirty-seven.”
Techno nodded in response, and Phil led him back over to the Syndicate. “Anyone need to go over anything?” Niki asked.
“What color are Dream’s eyes?” Ranboo said. Ranboo was well trusted and had likely been briefed on the plan even more than the others, so it was unlikely he’d actually forgotten, but he always liked to self-check himself - the years of forgetting things so often made him cautious.
“Green,” Techno reassured. “Everyone’s got a weapon on ‘em somewhere?” He pulled his own cape aside to show the hilt of his sword, even though you could see the sheath against his pant leg.
Niki pulled aside a well-hidden slit in her dress to show a thigh-holster with a knife attached, as well as one in her boot, and Phil just nodded. Ranboo and Wilbur had their own swords on clear display on their legs.
Phil smiled at the group. “Good. Dream’s typically known to fight with an axe, as you all know, but he’s almost certainly going to be using something more subtle. We’re having our guards check everyone who comes in at least two times, and they’ll be separated from the rest of the group if they’re holding any weapons. They’ll be questioned and directed out - all weapons have been forbidden.”
“So there shouldn’t be any weapons in there except for the ones on the five of us and our guards,” Techno continued. “There will be forty guards. Each one of them is carryin’ at least a sword, and a few of them have given themselves extra weapons. They will be stationed around the room as well as millin’ within the crowd undercover. You should still report anyone you see with a weapon, though - better report a guard than let Dream go.”
Niki nodded in turn, a determined look growing over her face as she gave her own advice. “Keep in mind that everyone will have their faces hidden underneath their masks, including normally stationed guards. Dream’s eyes are bright green, and he’s pale. He has heavy freckles on his upper neck and cheekbones. He’s tall, his hair is blonde. Keep the basics in mind. Those are what’s gonna help us spot him. Some masks are going to be a lot harder to look through - some have full face coverage, and knowing what we know of Dream, he’s going to be wearing one like that.”
“Now,” Phil grinned. “Let’s go to a ball.”
The first thing Techno did was sit himself against a wall and stay there. He was asked to dance a few times, and he obliged his various partners as they spun around the room, but he returned to his spot once he was done. He people-watched from his own little space, observed faces and masks to see if there was anyone familiar.
At some point, Niki almost reported one of the undercover guards, a freckled man in a gorgeous green dress fitted with an almost terrifying jester mask. He flushed and flustered as he showed her his ID, and she dismissed him back to the crowd with an apology.
An hour in, and the party truly began. Wilbur gave a short speech before joining the crowd to dance. Niki joined the group as well, swirling around in her gorgeous dress and occasionally wandering back up to Techno.
Techno planned to stay on the wall for as long as he could - he had a good vantage point of most of the room, and he could very clearly see the entrance - until someone new walked up to him.
They were wearing a black dress, shaped almost like Niki’s, but it didn’t carry the same plain lack of color. Gold traced up the edges and through the folds in an elaborate pattern of twisted flowers and elaborate netting. Their dress was off the shoulder, revealing expanses of pale skin marked with heavy freckles. They were wearing a mask that covered their entire face - one of the most unusual he’d seen, but certainly gorgeous.
It was a jester mask almost like the one he’d seen the undercover guard wearing. This one had a white base. Several black tendrils stitched with a gorgeous gold hung over the mask’s face, as if the wearer was adorned with an elaborate jester’s hat. The tendrils had little bells hung over the ends, and they jangled when the person walked. When Techno observed for a moment longer, he realized that the center bell was a little lion’s head, clanging louder than the others.
The lips were painted the same yellow as the checkerboard. There was a checkerboard pattern of black and dull yellow over the eyes of the mask, forming a triangle over each eye, and from the bottom of the triangles, tendrils of the same pretty gold curled down the cheeks. When he looked through the holes in the mask for the eyes, he realized that they had emerald eyes - emeralds. Green. Dream.
Suddenly Techno was quite sure who he was about to speak with. Dream had found him, and he was ready to dance with Techno so that he could stab the prince in the chest and finally finish the operation he’d been working on for months.
When Techno realized Dream had started speaking, he almost jumped. He hadn’t noticed anything but the man’s approach. “So, highness, will you join me for a dance?” He was holding out his hand cheerily. His voice sounded different, but that was expected - everyone in the Syndicate had heard Dream’s voice, and the assassin clearly wasn’t a complete idiot.
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t make sense to refuse a dance at this point, especially not when Techno had already been seen dancing with others, so he forced his voice into a pleasant agreement. It was probably smarter to dance with Dream anyway - he’d rather keep an eye on the man up close, even if it might be a smidge more dangerous.
But it wasn’t like he could alert the Syndicate or any guards - Dream would see, and he’d know that Techno knew, and the bastard would be away and out of the gates before they could even try to grab him properly. If they danced, Techno could keep a literal hold on him for the entire night.
Luckily enough for the duo, a new song had just begun as they spun out onto the ballroom floor. There were at least forty couples dancing alongside the new duo, stepping and spinning and dipping each other throughout the room. Techno took the lead of the dance, and Dream happily complied.
“So,” Techno started, trying to be conversational. Anything to confirm what he was sure he knew. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Dee, your highness, it’s truly a pleasure to meet you,” Dream lied through his teeth quite well, Techno wouldn’t lie.
“Please,” Techno said politely. “Call me Techno.”
“Oh, I couldn't!” Dream protested. “It would be unbecoming of me to address someone with such a high title so informally.”
“Suit yourself.” Techno shrugged, dipping Dream on beat. Dream went easily, bending his body to fit along with it and edging on going limp in Techno’s arms. He straightened just as easily.
Techno stared at the jester mask as they danced. It was eerie in its beauty, strange and gorgeous. A tiny piece of him wanted to reach up and flick the lion’s bell.
“So-o,” Techno tried once again. “Got any hobbies, Dre-” he gave a little cough “- Dee?”
“Oh, yes! I’ve picked up fencing recently, your highness,” the thin man seemed to bounce up at the idea. “I also quite enjoy gardening - I’ve built up quite a pretty farm of flowers. Perhaps I could show you sometime.”
Techno stared down at the man in his arms, trying to keep the confusion off of his face. Was he seriously being flirted with right now? Dream was here to kill him, and now he was trying to flirt? Techno rolled his eyes, then considered.
Nah, that sounded like Dream.
“That’s pretty cool,” Techno complimented. “I like fencin’. Pretty popular for some of my fights, as you might know.” He paused. “And roses are quite pretty.”
Dream seemed even more cheerful after the last comment, even if it seemed to be added as a last thought. “I’ve certainly heard of your fights, highness! I’ve been quite interested in them - honestly, you’re part of the reason I’ve been experimenting with a sport so unlike my other kinds of fun. You’re quite graceful, your majesty, you make fencing look very enjoyable.” A slight flush spread down Dream’s neck, and he leaned a bit closer, as if professing a secret. “And I stock plenty of roses.”
Another song started, a different kind of dance, and Techno was quite suddenly spun away from his partner. He was thrust into the leading position of the dance, and after a moment, he recognized his new partner as the guard Niki had disrupted earlier.
“Oh, your highness!” The man said, obviously surprised. It looked like he was deciding whether or not to bow, but Techno had gotten a little distracted.
Now that the prince could see this unknown guard, he could see that the jester mask was both closer to Dream’s than he’d originally thought and more different. It was split vertically into two halves for the base color. One half was green, the other gold. It was perfectly symmetrical in all the details, too, which gave Techno’s brain a satisfied little thrill.
The tendrils on this mask were on both bottom and top. They were a deep velvety green lined with pretty green, and the bells were bigger. A few bells lay in the hollow of the man’s neck, accenting his pale skin with a pretty touch. The tendrils were held higher than the ones on Dream’s mask, giving a clearer view to the face of the mask and the pretty golden and green curls that poured over each side.
On the green side, gold swirled around the eye hole and cheekbone. On the golden side, green swirled around the eye hole and cheekbone. In the center, at the very top of the nose, a smooth, oval pearl was set into the base of the mask, surrounded by the gold that edged the tendrils. The lips were painted a bright, sparkly green, and the corners of the mouth were turned up in a smile that seemed almost cruel.
To sum up, it was beautiful - more beautiful than the dress, a heavy thing made from dark green fabric. Gold climbed up the dress in the pattern of vines, weaving itself into the corners and folds in another breath-taking symmetrical pattern.
When Techno resurfaced from his studying of the outfit of the guard in his arms, he was drawn back to his original issues. He could be friendly while he was here, but he needed to get back to Dream as quickly as possible so that he could keep an eye on the assassin.
“Hello,” Techno greeted.
“Your highness,” the guard responded, dipping his head.
“None of that, please,” Techno grumbled. He’d had enough of it from Dream already, he didn’t need anything more.
“Apologies, si- ahem, apologies. Do you have a preferred title?”
“No. Call me Techno,” the prince insisted.
“Right, of course,” the guard nodded his head down again.
“And what do I call you?”
“Oh! I - ah, guardsman is fine, si- Techno,” the guard said, allowing himself to be spun in an easy circle. His dress flared out, the design of the vines becoming clearer and his feet almost catching on the edge of the thing. It was clear he didn’t dance often.
“What’s your name, though?” Techno persisted. He knew the guard was hesitating because you were supposed to keep up formalities, but he wasn’t a fan of it. Well, mostly he wasn’t a fan of it. He liked being addressed with respect, and he liked rubbing his titles in asshole’s noses, but other than that, he had no love for them.
Something in the guard’s eyes glinted, and Techno wondered what was going on within his head. “My name is Taken.”
“Pretty name,” Techno murmured under his breath, and then he was pulled into the arms of another dancing partner.
He bounced around the ballroom for another few minutes before he managed to pull himself back into Dream’s hold. The two began their dance again, this time on the edge of the room - Techno was trying his hardest to keep them together while being inconspicuous. It worked well enough, and the song changed back to one where you were meant to stay with your partner.
“What brings you to the castle, Dee?” Techno asked.
“Oh, this visit was simply to attend the ball! Prince Wilbur’s parties are incredibly well-known, you see,” Dream said. “I wished to speak to your family, and I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with two of you! The eldest prince is endlessly charming.”
“Yeah,” Techno chuckled. “He certainly is. You danced with him, then?”
“Yes, earlier this evening!” Dream smiled. “He was quite polite.”
Techno flicks his eyes up to the huge grandfather clock at the other end of the room. It reads them in at around fifty minutes before the ball ends - both sooner and later than he thought it would be. Time flies when you’re expecting to have a knife flung through your heart every moment, or however the phrase goes.
“You ever fight with an axe, Dee?” Techno pressed. It was probably a stupid decision, and it might get him killed a little faster, but he wanted to push.
Dream only shrugged. “I don’t believe I have! Axes always look very pretty, but they’re quite weighted when you truly attempt to wield them.”
Techno opened his mouth to respond somehow - he wasn’t sure how, but he wanted to keep pressing, maybe ask a few more targeted questions - until Phil’s voice echoed from the platform that sat on the wall above the ballroom. The entrance to it was above the stairs, and it looked out onto the entire room.
“As you all may have noticed, the ball is ending in about forty minutes. This means that it will be expected for you to be leaving soon. At midnight, you will all be required to leave immediately - checks will be less thorough on the way out, so you won’t take as long, but please keep in mind that we are permitted to do extra checks or even detain you if you seem suspicious. We are on high security.” Phil clapped his hands together once. “That being said, please enjoy the remainder of the ball! We’re so happy to have hosted.”
For a while after that, the conversation fell through between Dream and Techno. The two men danced, Techno lost in his thoughts and Dream unwilling to start a conversation. They paraded through the room in a gorgeous dance nonetheless, all perfect dips that lead into swirls and flaring skirts and well-placed easy steps.
It was nearly half-an-hour later when the conversation started up again, and at that point, the majority of the attendees had either left or were on their way out. Dream spoke first, finally breaking Techno’s daze. “If you’re not opposed to me asking, highness, whyever is security so tight?”
“I’m not really supposed to talk about it,” Techno responded automatically. And then he paused, thinking for a moment and looking around the room. They were one of three couples still dancing, and the entire Syndicate were standing nearby. “But you would know about the reason, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to, highness,” the blankly smiling mask, once pretty, seemed to mock Techno.
“Come on, drop the act. I already know it’s you,” Techno spat. He enjoyed some parts of Dream, he’d admit - banter could be fun, and Dream was one of the few people who could actually match him in a duel, so their fighting wasn’t terrible - but he didn’t like the before.
Techno despised the secret identities and the lies, so wrapped together and intertwined that half of the time, Techno couldn’t tell what the truth was. Dream was an impossibly good liar, and he could twist his voice easily - his only real set off was his face.
He was absolutely awful at closing his expressions, which is why he wore a mask most of the time. Or, that’s why Techno thought he wore a mask. They’d never talked truthfully enough for him to actually have any kind of clue about something that deep.
“Y - ahem, your majesty?” the mask was tilted down and to the lift, as if Dream were nervous. Techno fought a grin. “I really don’t know what you’re speaking about - do you - is there something I can help with? Have I said something wrong?”
“No, I-” Techno paused, and then he remembered something. Freckles on the cheeks and neck, freckles on cheeks and neck - not on the shoulders. Dee had freckles on his shoulders and - wasn’t Dream Techno’s height - a few inches shorter at most, right? Dee was shorter than Techno by several inches. Oh, shit, he’d gotten the wrong person. Fuck. This was an idiotic mistake. “Dee, I formally apologize. Please forgive me, but I’ve got to go, uh, tell Phil somethin’.”
Techno tugged himself away from his dance partner awkwardly, muttering curses under his breath. Dee looked around for a minute, completely bewildered, before slowly making his way to the door. This left - Techno counted briefly - six people left that weren’t part of the castle staff, and all of them were headed towards the door.
Techno found his old place on the wall, leaning against it with a heavy sigh. He couldn’t believe he’d done something that fucking stupid - but at least it seemed like Dream hadn’t made it. Dream hadn’t taken an easy chance to try and kill Techno.
This seemed strange.
And then the last person exited the door, and the chaos began anew.
The first thing that happened was a shriek of Techno’s name, sudden and high-pitched in the slow silence. On instinct, Techno dropped to his knees, making himself small as he prepared for whatever was coming at him.
Overhead, an ornate and polished dagger whizzed by, sticking in the wall where Techno’s throat was only moments ago. Techno glanced at the dagger, letting his eyes trace the pattern of the handle for a moment before he returned his gaze to the man he knew had thrown it.
The guard in the pretty jester mask stood at the other side of the room, hand outstretched from where he had clearly just thrown the weapon. A masquerade at a masquerade, it seemed - the pretty guard wasn’t anything close to what Techno had expected. He tore off the mask, ripping its satin straps, and glared at Techno. “You weren’t supposed to duck!”
“Sorry to disappoint, Dream, but I do enjoy bein’ alive,” Techno grunted as he stood up, staring at the man in front of him. Now that he studied the “guard” he recognized more of the similarities - the full-face mask, the golden hair, the pale skin, the height, the obsession with the color green, gods, even the name ‘Taken.’
“Unfortunately,” Dream grumbled. “That’s understandable. But it means I have to leave so quick!”
“You could always stick around?” Techno offered, a small grin creeping up his face.
“Sorry, princey, but I don’t do well in prison.” Dream sighed, moving closer to the door. He was already standing almost in front of it, because he was smart enough to know where to position himself if things went wrong. “It does mean I gotta get going. But I promise to visit soon!”
“Yeah, real flatterin’. Truly looking forward to your murderous advances.”
“Aw, your highness! It’s not very nice to call someone a murderer. I really will have to visit sooner - maybe some kind of lesson is due.” Despite the much darker meaning behind the words he was saying, Dream gave Techno puppy-dog eyes like he was saying goodbye to a lover, and then blew the prince an exaggerated kiss.
(Techno ignored the flush that rose on his cheekbones and ran towards the man just as he slipped out the door.)
He pursued throughout the castle, even if he knew what the end result would be, but he still was shocked when he found himself shoved into a locked closet. The door splintered easily underneath his shoulder, but he knew he wouldn’t find Dream once he gained a head-start, and he definitely gave Dream one of those.
Three hours and two cups of coffee later, and it was deemed that Dream had escaped once again.
Techno and Dream lived on in their cycle - both of them escaping, on and on.