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As a 6 foot pig with more height, shoulders, and body mass than the common man, Technoblade often struggles to find comfortable pillows. He’s thought about making his own, but every time he tries to sew he ends up with more scars than in battle. The problem is his hands. They’re good for war, they’re good for farming, and they’re surprisingly good for woodworking. He even made the very wide, fairly tall bed that takes up half of his room himself. Sewing, however, his big, clumsy hands are a bit of an L.
There’s a wide, crocheted blanket he had commissioned a few years ago, but when he asked about pillows the guy just said, “Um… I make blankets.” Like Techno had just insulted his entire career. So Technoblade gave him his money and decided that interaction was awkward enough to never try interacting with that guy again even though he originally planned to get a few more blankets out of him. Which means he does have to wash the blanket fairly often. He likes it anyway, so he’ll take the L there too.
He does have a few pillows thrown about, but they usually get tossed aside because they just don’t fit him the way he wants. They’re either too thin and just feel like he’s laid up against the mattress with nothing between, or they’re too short and just don’t give him the proper support he needs. And maybe Technoblade wants a nice, thick pillow with proper support! He deserves it at this point. He survives war after war on this SMP, and he can’t even wake up without a crick in his neck? Nuh-uh. Not happening. He’s tired of it. Which is why he was happy to finally meet his match in the form of a polar bear with a penchant for naps.
Steve is thick, fluffy, and, most importantly, sturdy. So while he doesn’t lug Steve onto his bed every night, he does tend to look for a white lump of soft, white fur when he’s getting a little sleepy and takes a little mid-morning nap, or mid-afternoon nap, or mid- well, anytime Techoblade sees fit to take a nap. Which is pretty much anytime he can. He’s a big being asleep fan. Unfortunately for him, Steve seems to be going union.
“Steve please,” Technoblade begs as the polar bear extracts himself from under Techno’s head. Technoblade slides to the floor with a groan. Steve stumbles off to the other side of the room and lays down with an aggravated grunt. “I’m tired. You’re tired. Literally the perfect set up, man!” Steve growls. “I thought we had a deal. You eat anyone who steps foot on my property, I use you as a pillow.”
Phil levels him with a very unimpressed stare from the place he lays on the couch scribbling numbers on a book of sudoku problems. “Might need to make him a better deal,” Phil suggests. “Everyone who steps foot on your property, now, he’s not allowed to eat.” He was mostly hyperbolizing with the whole man-eating polar bear thing, but there have been a few moments that Steve went beyond his emotional support bear duties and tried to kill someone.
Technoblade levels Steve with a disappointed frown and asks, “Is that what this is? You’re throwin’ tantrums ‘cause I won’t let you eat Niki?”
“Or Ranboo,” Phil chimes in. “Or Connor.”
“We like Ranboo and Connor,” Technoblade reminds him. Connor’s a little newer to the fold, but Techno thinks he’s a good addition to the group. A bit silly, a bit strange, and definitely has some sort of dark secret he’s keeping from all of them. But Techno can appreciate a good dark secret. Plus he tortured that guy a while ago so he probably owes him a favor or two. Lodging and minding his business are reasonable enough favors. And who could hate Ranboo?
“Well, obviously, Techno. I’m just saying what Steve’s thinking.”
“You speak polar bear now?” Techno questions in amusement. He wouldn’t put it past Phil to actually speak polar bear, though. He communes with the crows, who's to say the polar bears don't speak a similar language?
Phil just snorts and teases, “Shows what you know about your friends,” in a bit more serious of a tone he says, “But nah, mate, I think he’s probably just agitated. Not getting enough stimulation. He just sleeps all day.”
“We like sleep.”
“You like sleep,” Phil corrects. Technoblade frowns. He and Steve are on the same page about naps, he thought. If you’re not hanging out with your friends or waging warfare (of the physical or psychological variety), literally what else would you do but sleep? It’s just 20x better than literally anything else. “Polar bears just need a bit more. Animals in general, actually. Imagine if after you hibernated I just pointed to the floor and said it’s pillow time.” Okay. Maybe Techno can get how that would be a little annoying. He would probably concede to being a pillow even if it was annoying because it’s Phil, but Steve probably isn’t prepared to bring the whole world to a stand-still for Techno the way Techno would for Phil. Because Steve is just not bestie material.
“Ugh. Phil, you’re a traitor,” Technoblade says instead of thanks for the advice, man. really helped. Phil makes an offended little squawk. Technoblade offers nothing more than a laugh as he pushes himself off the floor. He walks over to the bundle of fluff pretending to sleep.
“Steve?” Nothing.
“Steve? My best buddy Steve?” A huff. On his angsty teenager arc, apparently.
“Do you want to go to the woods and kill rabbits? Would that make you feel better?” No dice. “Or sheep. Maybe even a cow or two?” Steve shifts like he’s tempted but doesn’t make to get up. “Hey, if we get far enough, you could even eat anyone dumb enough to still live in the Greater SMP.”
Suddenly, Steve is off the floor and looking at Techno with a little spark in his eye. Technoblade has accidentally raised a polar bear with a thirst for blood. Oops. Well, he didn’t raise Steve, actually, he was already an adult when Techno found him, so Techno will not be taking the blame on this one, thanks.
Steve leans against Technoblade’s side with an excited little huff. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too, buddy.” Techno gives him a little pat. He looks over to where Phil is back to squinting at his little sudoku workbook. Technoblade hates to interrupt a good time, but just in case he asks, “Phil, you comin’? Heard birds of prey need a little murder now and then, too.”
Phil drops his book to his lap with an amused huff. He makes a considering face. Technoblade is pleasantly surprised when Phil starts to push up and says, “Eh, we need rabbits for stew anyway. Sick to death of fucking steak and potatoes.”
“Me and Ranboo, we work, we bleed, we do everything to put food on the table, and how are we thanked?”
“And who made the wheat farm?”
Techno lies, “Connor. That guy’s really pullin’ his weight around here. Great with redstone.” Technoblade thinks if he put redstone in front of Connor, the guy would try to eat it. They’ve all made that very ordinary and valid mistake before, though, so who is Techno to judge? He just wanted to see Phil look at him like he’s the most insufferable person in the world. He has certainly achieved that.
“Maybe I’ll hunt for pig instead,” Phil says faux-thoughtfully, fixing Technoblade with a steady smile. It says there will be talons lodged in his shoulder in the near-future.
“Y’know, Phil, maybe you should stay in, actually,” Techno tries for self-preservation. “Cold out there and all. Don’t know if your old bones could handle it.” Alright, self-preservation doesn’t hold a candle to making fun of Phil, actually. Steve impatiently knocks into the back of Technoblade’s knees as Phil rolls his eyes. He has enemies on all sides.
“Should go before Steve makes a meal out of you,” Phil suggests as he pulls on his cloak.
“Alright, alright,” Techno concedes. He does one quick check through his inventory to make sure he’s good and prepared for this walk/polar bear murder spree. He doesn’t have potions, but they probably don’t need any for this short of an expedition. Maybe just a splash fire res in case they take a nether detour? Eh, he’s got a few in his Enderchest on standby. He’s good on golden carrots. He’s got his axe. Cape and boots are already securely on. Techno has to do this little check-in with himself because he is so, so prone to forgetting literally everything he needs all of the time. Secure in his ability to not die in the next hour or two, he says, “Let’s get a little enrichment in your enclosures.”
Phil opens the door and doesn’t even step a foot out before all 900 pounds of Steve come barrelling out the door. He seems far more energetic than Techno has seen in a while. Which is definitely his fault. He feels like a jerk, actually, but he’s making up for it now at least. He’ll try not to get so complacent next time. When a man finds the perfect pillow, he’s bound to get a little sidetracked.
The walk to the woods is fairly short, considering the everything, and Technoblade is more than happy to pick off creepers, skeletons, and the like while Phil scopes out something good for dinner and Steve immediately obliterates every target that would have made a good meal. He doesn’t leave anything behind for Phil to cook, which is making Phil mald a little but Techno is enjoying their little walk.
A rabbit jumps in the middle of the path they walk. It’s very cute. Phil takes out his sword. Steve pounces on it before Phil can even think to.
“I should’ve gone off on my own,” Phil complains as Steve makes truly disgusting sounds in rabbit conquest. All that’ll be left is the bone. “Would’ve had the stew made by now.”
“Ehh, we can have steak and potatoes for one more night, Phil. You won’t die,” he gives Phil a little shoulder pat. He amends, “Probably.” He doesn’t like to make assumptions. Maybe the spuds will start fighting back. Who’s he to say?
“Risking my life on a probably,” Phil says with a shake of his head and a tsk. He sheaths his sword, though, and looks to the stars; Phil has officially given up on his dinner expedition. If Techno wanted to trip over a tree root and die, he would look at the stars too. Start rambling on about them. As it is, he just makes sure Phil doesn’t die to a tree root or baby zombie as they continue their walk through the woods. As is his mission in life. He rambles a bit about the stars anyway. He knows the night’s sky practically by heart. The Human GPS has taken to the stars.
The snow begins to fall, lightly but enough for Techno to decide, “Alright, let’s start headin’ back.” He’s getting cold, anyway, and his body can only handle so much cold before his brain goes, i need to sleep for 10000 years. Plus, even Steve seems to be getting tired. Phil is even fast enough to catch a rabbit before him.
“For tomorrow,” Phil says. “Steak and potatoes for tonight. I’ll even throw in a nice side of bread.”
“Y’know, Tommy might’ve been onto somethin’ when he said you were the only man ever.”
“Oh, don’t you start with that,” Phil says with a little bap to Techno’s side. As they walk up the steps of Techno’s porch, Phil asks, “Do we want honey, too? For the bread?”
“Good dessert.”
“Alright, you get started on dinner, I’ll go bother the bees.” He jumps off the steps and begins the short trek to the hive. A very exhausted Steve leans against Technoblade, urging him to open the door. He abides.
Steve wanders to the corner to contently lick the blood off of his fur. Technoblade lays a few potatoes out on a pan, digging into them just a little with his sword on the top, before putting them in the furnace. Enough they may have some for tomorrow or a midnight snack. He uses the top of the furnace to cook the steaks. He thinks about tossing a bloody one to Steve, but he doesn’t even pay the food any mind. Must be full from all the ceaseless murder.
As Technoblade takes the baked potatoes out of the furnace, Phil walks into the cabin with a slot full of bread. He sets the bread and a few bottles of honey on the table. There aren’t really enough people for Techno to lay the food he made on the table and just let Phil have at, so he makes the two of them plates. As he walks their plates over, Phil is picking bloodied feathers from his wings.
“At the table?” Technoblade grouches as he sets a plate in front of Phil. “The table where I eat?”
“It’s your fault they’re bloody!”
“How is it my fault? I didn’t kill anythin’! You and Steve slaughter an entire ecosystem, and that’s on me?”
“Your polar bear, your fault.”
“Steve is his own man. Isn’t that right, Steve?” The polar bear looks up from his paws for just a second before going right back to licking the blood from them. Technoblade will be taking that as a yes. He sits as he says, “See, Steve’s his own man.”
“I’ll forgive Steve since he was a little bloodlusty from being cooped up, and you’ll forgive me for preening at the dinner table because you cooped him up.”
“Bruhh, you could’ve taken him out at any time.”
“Not when he’s under your fucking head!”
“Can’t even be sleepy nowadays, man. What has the world come to?”
“Oh, eat your damn steak and potatoes.”
“And bread. Can’t forget the bread.”
“That’s dessert.”
“What are you, a cop?” Technoblade grabs a roll and slathers a truly egregious amount of honey on it. Phil snorts and does the same, though with just a little less honey. Apparently he likes to still taste the bread.
It’s a nice meal. Other than the truly awful noises Steve is making in the corner licking himself clean. Technoblade should probably be accustomed to such horrific sounds by now considering the army of dogs he keeps. And the foxes. And the horses. God, he needs to start a walking regimen for all of them, actually, now that he thinks about it. Blitz is probably dying to wield her tiny sword. Techno is so used to war-time he sometimes forgets that in the after you can actually take the things you care about outside of the walls of your home. Phil is a good reminder of that.
After finishing their bread, potatoes, and steak, Phil grabs Techno’s plate and his own and puts them in his inventory. “I’ll wash ‘em tomorrow,” he promises. “Sleep time, now.”
“Nighty night, Phil.” Phil makes a tired humming noise as he opens the door that leads to the little bridge between their homes. He’s picking at his wings all the way. Techno decides if they’re still bugging him in the morning he’ll offer to help. He hasn’t done it since the aftermath of Doomsday because as much fun as explosions are, apparently dust and debris in your wings are not as fun. Unless it’s dire enough for Phil to ask him, though, Techno tends to avoid it. Mostly because despite how many times he has in the past, the same big, clumsy hands that make it hard to sew make it just as hard to do something as delicate as preening. Despite that, Phil never complained too much about Techno’s handiwork, and has said a few times, “Half-assed is better than nothing, mate. And you’re not as bad as Ranboo.” Techno is glad he’s at least got the second to last place medal in preening, but it doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Whatever. It is his fault a little bit that Phil’s covered in blood, so he can suck it up for an hour or so.
Technoblade decides he’s a little tired too. Enough to sleep, probably, but when he thinks about his bed and its lack of pillows he sighs. He really needs to learn how to sew. If only the few people who can actually sew on this server didn’t hate him. Actually, can Eret sew? He thinks Eret can sew. Eret doesn’t hate him, probably. They just had the beginning of their friendship arc. Maybe he’ll ask them. Not in the middle of the night, though, maybe. That might make the small meter of their friendship tic down a few notches.
He’s about to just resign himself to no pillows for the night once again when he gets a nudge in his side. Steve is stood next to him. “You need somethin’?” The bear just stares. “I don’t have anymore food, man, you ate the whole forest.” Steve makes a huff, then walks closer to the fireplace. He hits the ground with a little whump, eyes on Technoblade the whole time.
“Is this a moment? Are we havin’ a moment?” He asks. The look he gets is not very impressed. Techno may be projecting, though. “I let you kill and you’re willin’ to be my pillow again?” Technoblade isn’t 100% sure that’s what’s happening, but when he lays down and places his head on Steve he doesn’t get whacked for it. He’s taking this as a W. “We besties now, Steve?” The polar bear growls. Techno may be pushing his luck. “Yeah, we’re besties. We need a duo name. You think arctic duo is a thing? Bloodbath duo? Feel free to chime in at any time.”
Steve does not chime in. In fact, he starts to snore. Technoblade needs better friends. Phil gets blood flakes all over his kitchen table and Steve falls asleep while he’s talking. Well, that’s fine. Technoblade’s tired anyway. Might as well follow in Phil and Steve’s footsteps. He gets himself comfortable against the slumbering bear, the way he never can with any of the pillows on this server and the next. Instead of counting sheep, he replays every time Steve pounced on one during their walk. It lulls him to a comfortable sleep.