Archive of Our Own ^beta

The quiet is nice, at first. Techno has to admit it’s an improvement over the constant rush and fear of attack with threats looming around every corner, at least. It would be stupid for someone to wish to go back to war. Suicidal, even, to fantasize about people ambushing his house, threatening his horse, marching him to his death with firm hands on his arms. It would be stupid and selfish, and so Techno doesn’t do it.

It’s impossible to ignore the problems that accompany the quiet, though. For one thing, it’s boring. Techno’s had his fair share of great successes and heroic triumphs, but those victories always exist in the form of a great energy bubble bursting, a great and intrica plan that ends in a quick and violent explosion of power, and then that power dissipates. Fizzles out. Techno fights, he wins, and then he’s back to where he started. Allies become enemies become dirt beneath his boot and the cycle repeats. Is it really so unreasonable to think that he might get tired of it eventually? That the glorious highs and (brief, rare) lows, cycled through so many times, might all start to feel flat? That the great Technoblade, Potato King, terror of governments far and wide, might feel unfulfilled? 

A smaller, younger part of him tucks his tail and whines at the thought that after all his triumph he still isn’t good enough to keep. A puppy part of him laments that for all his victories he still ended up cold and alone in a home that only smells like him.

It’s ridiculous, and Techno is definitely not feeling sad or lonely or End-forbid melancholy when he enters the server hub. He’s bored and nothing else, thank you very much. Boredom is what has him wandering among the server portals listlessly, head swimming with the noise and smells of the busy hub. He’s just bored , he reminds himself when his gaze catches just a bit too long on a family embracing- the father holds his wife close enough that his sons disappear under her cloak and Techno turns away with a snarl. He needs to get out these feelings, this boredom, in a particularly violent minigame. He stalks into the nearest portal entrance and prepares for the even greater mass of noise that is the Hypixel spawn.

For a moment, Techno thinks the teleportation has failed. When the nauseating whir of the portal fades out he’s surprised by the same quiet he’d been trying to escape. Had he somehow portaled back to his home in the arctic? That can’t be right, though- the air here is far too warm, with a pleasant breeze that doesn’t dig under his clothes and into his joints. The climate here is almost balmy, and his small house in the arctic certainty doesn’t compare to the sheer size of the buildings surrounding him.

Techno’s confusion is quickly interrupted by the quiet hiss of a creeper. He jumps, whipping around. Has this server not even mob-proofed its spawn? The impressive stature and detail of the builds means nothing if they can be exploded as soon as someone spawns in. Raising his fists (his inventory is disconcertingly empty) he prepares to at least put up a fight against the creeper, bending his knees in preparation to run.

He’s so caught up in preparing to fight that it takes him a moment to realize that the creature he’s facing off against is not, in fact, a creeper. It sort of looks like one, partially covered in green fur, but the rest of the details are off. Creepers don’t have gleaming steel covering half their bodies, a glowing red eye, or intimidating goat horns. Creepers don’t tower over Techno. Most importantly, creepers have never, in Techno’s ample experience with them, aimed crossbows at him.

“Haven’t seen you here before.” The voice is rough, low and almost more threatening than the crossbow. Techno freezes, lets his mouth get ahead of him.

“I’m a visitor?”

“This isn’t the kind of server that gets visitors. ” Techno frowns, mind running a mile a minute. What kind of server is this, then? Has he stumbled onto an anarchy server, unarmed and without a plan? Is this hazing?

The not-creeper takes a step closer, narrowing his organic eye. “You shouldn’t be able to be here, you’re not whitelisted. How did you get here?”

Techno swallows, raising his hands in what he hopes looks like a peace offering. “I’d like to know just as much as you would, honest. I just went through a portal, thought I was going to Hypixel, now I’m here. If you’ve got an exit portal I’d love to take it and get out of your hair- er, fur.” 

This seems to surprise his attacker, so much so that he lowers the crossbow entirely. “You got here by accident?” After a moment he adds, “Do you usually go through random portals when you’re trying to get to hubs?” 

Techno scoffs, but he can’t exactly deny it. He’d thought he was standing next to the Hypixel portal, but he hadn’t actually checked. Better not make a habit of that, if this is the kind of place he ends up. Still, the stranger doesn’t need to know that.

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, if you’ll show me the exit I’ll be happy to go, Mr…”

“DocM77. Or just Doc. You’ll have to talk to Xisuma to leave, we don’t normally use portals.” Doc takes a second to examine him, then, the faint whirring of machinery picking up before he asks, “Did you come here with anyone? A pack or something?” 

Techon frowns. The question feels like a dig. “Listen, I promise you there’s no secret team helping me infiltrate your server or anything. I wandered in on my own, honest mistake, and as soon as you’ll let me I’d love to wander out of here so we can both be on our merry way.”

Doc considers him for a long moment, like he’s trying to figure out a math problem or a particularly stubborn bit of redstone, before pulling out his communicator. Finally calling his admin so Techno can leave, then.

The character that appears after a minute or two of waiting doesn’t… look like an admin. He’s a little frazzled, like Doc called him in the middle of something. The most admin-y thing about him is the pair of mirrored sunglasses he wears, though they slide halfway down his face when he lands his elytra, fully ruining the illusion. Even worse, his fluffy tail starts wagging as soon as he sees the “potential threat.” 

“Uhm, Xisuma, I assume?” Techno tries, though he knows his uncertainty must be coming through when Doc snorts.

“Huh? No, no, I’m Rendog, or just Ren. Doc called me about an aban- Ahem, an… individual traveler?” Ren coughs, awkwardly, but offers a smile and a placating dip of his head in apology. Something in Techno’s chest squeezes at the motion, some long-dead memory, and he almost whines. 

“Told you,” Doc says, like he’s won some kind of bet, and Techno wants to ask told you what but Ren is already approaching, ignoring the way Techno’s ears flatten to his head and his tail tucks between his legs without his permission, to walk an investigative circle around him. 

“It certainly doesn’t seem like he’s got anyone. No lingering scents, and he’s not even trying to call anyone for backup,” Ren says to Doc. Doc hums, a sound halfway between a creeper hiss and a piston startup. Techno opens his mouth to defend himself, because really who do they think he is, but Doc cuts him off.

“That’s what I figured. They’ll certainly want to meet him. Let’s go back to my base, it’s a better place for talking.” Techno almost sighs in relief. Finally, he’s going to meet the admin and get out of here. He’ll be able to relive the tight feeling in his chest that hasn’t stopped since Ren’s hand brushed casually over his shoulder and he held his breath to silence any noises that might try to escape. Grateful to be moving, he follows out of the spawn.

The place Ren and Doc take Techno is… cozy definitely isn’t the word. It’s comfortable , clearly lived in, but in no way is it small. He can smell the lingering scents of Ren and Doc easily, but there’s a confusing cloud of other scents mingling with them. How many people live here? Is this a pack home?

He doesn’t get to think about it much before his captors-turned-hosts are pushing past him, busying themselves around the open space. Ren has his communicator out, texting while he walks, and Doc moves purposefully between chests throughout the room until his arms are full of soft-looking blankets, bottles of water, pillows, and precariously balanced bags of snacks. He looks more like he’s preparing for a movie night or a party than a quick conversation with his admin, and Techno starts to think he’s misread this situation horribly. Amidst their chaos Techno finds himself… stuck. Stationary, hovering by the door like a new student, hesitant to come in and try to find his place in this. 

Ren and Doc don’t seem to notice his awkwardness as they move about, talking to each other in quick half-sentences Techno can’t keep up with. His impersonation of a statue goes on for so long that someone appears behind him, startling him enough that he (shamefully) jumps when they call out a greeting.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you! I almost didn’t see you there, you’re so still!” Techno turns to take in two new guests. Their scents are vaguely familiar, laying featherlight on the air of the room- frequent visitors, then? Actually looking at the pair doesn’t help much. The one talking is a fellow wolf- a tall woman with taller ears and an impressively fluffy tail wagging so fast Techno can’t tell what the coloring is supposed to be. Behind her is a shorter woman with massive antlers poking out of a curly shock of orange-red hair.

“I’m Pearl, by the way, and this is Gem,” the wolf, Pearl, continues. Techno realizes belatedly that she’d been talking the whole time he was examining them- was he really this off his game today? Pearl doesn’t seem to mind- she’s taking his silence as an opportunity to get way too close, sniffing at his clothes while she chatters to Doc about some recent project Techno doesn’t have the context to understand. Is a lack of boundaries just a thing for the wolves on this server? It makes his heart stutter and his mouth dry out. Gem is quiet, watching with sharp eyes. She looks like a deer of some kind. Is she not uncomfortable, prey in a room full of predators? She certainly looks confident enough when she reaches out and pulls Pearl back by the hood of her jacket.

“Keep your nose to yourself, Pearl, at least until the poor guy sits down.” Techno picks up on her hint, sheepishly making his way to one of the many cushions now spread out on the floor near the couch courtesy of Doc. Pearl follows, obediently keeping her distance until the exact moment he sits. Then she’s back to investigating, apparently interested in the wool lining of his cloak.

“We don’t see new people on the server often! Well, at all, actually, and I don’t think you’re supposed to be able to get in in the first place, but you don’t seem dangerous, so I’m sure Xisuma won’t mind.” She pauses for a moment, eyes narrowed in an intensity so sudden it gives Techno whiplash, and asks, “You’re not dangerous, right? Because we’d have to do something about you if you were.” 

For a moment, Techno’s hackles raise and he leans towards his usual gravitas. “I could be, if I wanted to,” he starts, sitting up straighter. He may not have a sword, potions, or armor, nor does he have the benefit of time to prepare, or… He slumps when he realizes he has no advantages here, no plan of escape and in fact no one to back him up in a fight. He doesn’t even know if this server has respawn. A little awkwardly, he continues, “...but no, I’m not dangerous.” Just to save face he adds, “Would be kind of stupid to wait until you’re all in a group to fight you.”

From the chest storage, Doc laughs. “It’s funny you think you even could have beaten just me in the state you’re in.” Techno opens his mouth to snap back, maybe to boast of previous victories or maybe to ask what state? He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before the door swings open again, another pair trotting in. How many people were going to be here?

Techno considers taking the moment to ask if this server keeps all of its wolves on metaphorical leashes, though the man in front of him doesn’t actually look quite wolf. Fox, maybe, with the shorter ears and wiry frame. He’s stood politely behind a man draped in a mossy cloak. The earthy smell of it is strong enough to pick up even across the room, and Techno has the absurd thought that it must be nice to bury your face under it and shut out the rest of the world’s scents. Focus, Techno. The fox is wearing a mask that covers most of his face, but he waves politely when he catches Techno’s eye. 

“That’s Etho, and Bdubs is the one with the cloak,” Pearl offers, following his gaze. To the newcomers she calls out, “C’mere, come join!” 

Bdubs waves them off, moving to talk to Doc. Their voices drop low enough that Techno can’t hear, but his focus shifts anyways when Ren reappears from another room and joins Etho in sitting with them. Etho sits a short distance away, partially blocking the door from view, and Ren sprawls on the couch behind them. Techno must be really off his game; without realizing it he’s let them block all of his exits and surround him. They don’t even seem to have struggled with it, based on how they’re all exchanging greetings and chatting about their recent projects like everything’s normal. Pearl’s open touchiness must have distracted him. It’s been a while since anyone got that close to him, it shouldn’t surprise him that that drew his focus so completely. He needs to focus. There’s no way for him to get out, there’s no way to shift the dynamic without drawing attention to himself; they can do whatever they want to him. Pearl’s threat hangs in the air- we’d have to do something about you, and maybe they’d already decided he was dangerous before they even brought him here. Maybe Doc wanted a group to make sure he’d be easily taken out, or to serve as witnesses for his trespassing. 

Movement behind him makes his ear flick and he lashes out, teeth latching onto Ren’s wrist before his hand can reach Techno’s throat.

The silence is immediate. The snarl that Techno let out when he bit wasn’t his best, shaky and higher than it should be. If he’s lucky it read as aggression rather than fear, but he’s not sure the way his ears are pinned to his head is helping his case. He’s usually so much better at keeping up appearances. Nonetheless the noise must have been loud enough, and the movement sudden enough, because even the low conversation between Doc and Bdubs has stopped. It’s quiet, just like everything Techno had been trying to escape. He forces a whimper back down his throat before it can escape.

“Okay,” someone says, and by the slight muffling it must be Etho, “okay. Techno, you can let Ren go now. You got him, you’re good.” Techno hesitates for just a second, feels the fear fear fear coalescing like a star in his chest, and then relents. What else can he do? Keep biting down? As if holding on to anything too long has ever done anything but make it hurt worse when it’s ripped away? He lets go, pulls back and braces for impact.

Ren clears his throat, sounding almost sheepish when he says, “Thank you. I uh, didn’t mean to… startle you.” Techno shrugs, apologies heavy on his tongue. The whine still building in his throat keeps his mouth firmly shut and his eyes on the ground in front of him. 

“Are you okay?” Etho asks, something tight in his voice. When Ren doesn’t answer Techno glances up to find the fox looking straight at him . 

Techno blinks, startled. “Wha- me?” When Etho nods, he glances back down. “I’m not- shouldn’t you be asking him ?” Techno nods towards Ren, but the silence remains. After a moment Etho says, “No, I’m asking you. Doc found you alone in the spawn, and you let them drag you here with no information. You’re either unusually open to being kidnapped, or something else is going on.” He pauses, seems to consider his words, and then adds, “Judging by your scent, my diamonds are on the second.”

Techno cowers, just a little, like a misbehaving puppy, but manages to bite out “What’s wrong with my scent?” Pearl interrupts before Etho can answer.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out since you got here, actually! I’ve never met someone who smells so empty.” Techno growls back “empty?” but doesn’t get to interrogate her before Doc sits down across from him with a heavy thud , Bdubs taking a much more graceful seat between him and Etho. 

“What she’s trying to say,” Doc cuts in, “is that you don’t smell like anyone else. You don’t have a pack.” It’s not a question. Techno answers it anyways. 

“I do have a pack, I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“How long ago?” Doc’s voice is clipped and harsh. At Techno’s glare, Etho offers an alternative, gentler question in, “How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

Techno tries to think back, but it’s hard to say what he should consider “seeing” them. Should his messages with Phil count, sparse as they may be? When last he’d seen Tommy the kid had swung a sword at him, screaming about betrayal, did that count? He must be quiet too long, because a gentle hand lands on his knee to shake him from his thoughts.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Gem says, the first thing since they sat down. For some reason, this is what finally gets to him. The whine that’s been building in his throat escapes, loud and pathetic, and he ducks his head.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to- I shouldn’t have-” He’s not sure what exactly he’s trying to say, but somehow they understand anyways. 

Etho lets out a noise like a purr, something scratchy and rumbly, to catch Techno’s attention before he speaks. “Hey, we’ve all been there. It messes with your head, right? Makes you think everyone’s out to get you. You’re far from the first person to make a mistake because you’re scared.” 

Bdubs laughs suddenly, like he’s just remembered something, and Etho’s purr cuts off abruptly. The visible part of his face turns bright red before Bdubs can even speak. “You don’t have to-”

“When I found Etho here,” Bdubs starts, raising his voice to talk over Etho, “he was so out of it he went full-fox to hide in my closet -” His story is cut off by Etho full-body tackling him, playfully growling. His swishing tail betrays his veneer of anger. Techno’s chest clenches with the familiar feeling that he’s watching from outside a glass pane, intruding on a moment not meant for him. 

“I should,” he starts before he really knows what he’s planning to say, words flying out of him, “I should go home.” The play fighting stops, and Bdubs takes the opportunity to shove Etho off of him and sit up, exchanging a glance with Doc. When no one answers Techno clears his throat and continues, “You all seem very-” happy safe comfortable “-friendly, but I shouldn’t- this isn’t my-” server pack home “-place. I’ve intruded long enough.”

Pearl lets out an honest-to-End whimper next to him, and when he turns she’s the image of a kicked puppy. Her ears are flat to her head, eyes wide and imploring, and her tail has finally stopped happily swishing up dust behind her. “But you just got here! You really want to go back to being alone again already?” Gem elbows her hard enough to almost throw her off, but she just doubles down on the pitiful show. It would be funny if it wasn’t working. 

“You don’t have to stay here.” Finally, Ren speaks up as a voice of reason. Just as quickly, he dashes Techno’s hopes. “You don’t have to, but we’d love it if you’d at least stay for dinner. You must be hungry.” 

Against his will, Techno thinks about the last time he shared a meal with anyone. It must have been Phil, years or decades ago when they still saw each other regularly enough for that kind of familiarity. His skin itches at the memory of his friend leaning against him to steal a bite of whatever he was cooking, his mischievous laugh echoing in his head, and his stomach rumbles, treacherous thing. 

Pearl grins like she knows she’s won, sliding up next to him again. She’s warm, almost unbearably so, but it soothes the itch in his skin so suddenly that he melts into it before he can think about it. Etho snickers, that purr starting back up as he tucks himself against Techno’s other side, ignoring his protests. Ren’s presence behind him is suddenly solid and protective instead of threatening, like a sheepdog’s guarding eye. That must be why Gem isn’t afraid. The conversation picks back up around him again, light and too quick to follow in his suddenly sleepy state. Techno lets it fade into background noise, lets himself drift on the waves of it, and wonders why he’d even considered going back to the arctic when he’s already home.