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imhereformysciencefriends · 5 months

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Blow this popcicle stand

My gift for @missycolorful for the @technoblade-gift-exchange

Read on AO3 here!

I had a total blast writing this! I hope you enjoy as well. I admit I kinda smushed together a couple of your prompts, but I am very happy with the result. Enjoy! <3

Phil was, historically, better at the talking-to-people thing. Not necessarily the being-reasonable thing, Techno did often have to sit in on all of Phil’s meetings in order to prevent unnecessary bloodshed due to, quote, “it’d be funny, mate,” unquote. But talking to people, talking was something Phil could and did do. Techno? Not so much. He didn’t, he didn’t really care for it, you know. Wasn’t really his forte.

But Phil was busy in a month-long series of meetings negotiating a new peace agreement with a nation that wanted regular access to the moon portal (financially a very good move for the Empire, logistically a nightmare). And while Techno would really prefer to be in those, both to have a comprehensive set of expectations for what would be happening in the future and to keep an eye on his partner, it wasn’t the only nation that wanted the Empire’s attention.

And Techno was, if not suited, at the very least capable of trade negotiations with one of their friendlier allies.

Even if he hated the idea.

His thick, heavy, fur-necked cape moved with his arms as he pulled his long hair back into a ponytail, the sound of his hooves ringing out against the arctic stone rather slowly as he approached the meeting room. Almost like he was dragging his feet. But jokes on you, Chat, Techno didn’t have feet to drag! So clearly he was getting there at a very reasonable pace. And wasn’t stalling. No chance of that, not with him, haha, nope!

Despite it being his literal actual destination, Techno found himself surprised when he was suddenly in front of the meeting room door. Who authorized this? Ninja doors, sittin’ around jumpscaring good hardworking emperors. Probably Phil, the weeb. Actually, Techno should try to remember this bit for later, he was sure Phil would love the notion of a ninja door. Get a good laugh outta that one.

Focus. He did still have to, you know, open the door. Have the pre-scheduled and entirely-foreseen meeting that would take place behind it.

Was that the alarm bell he heard? Off in the distance? Wayyyyy far away in the distance? No? Just him then? Alright.

No, Chat, he wasn’t stalling. He was just securing the perimeter with his superior hearing before engaging with outside forces. Yes he had superior hearing, look at the pink shell of his ears, sticking out of his face like that. What, no, he was not a bishounen, Chat, under no circumstances was anyone allowed to call him that. Honestly, the ideas that Chat got in their heads, smh.

Okay! Okay! He wasn’t stalling! He was opening the door now!

Inside the meeting room was the Essempi convoy, its three main representatives seated on the couch that faced the massive armchair Techno took. Next to his was a significantly smaller armchair, specifically designed to accommodate a man’s wings.

Not for nothing, Techno wished Phil was here.

“Welcome to the Empire,” he started, because that sounded most appropriate. Already, the back of his neck felt hot and damp with sweat. That’s why he put his hair up, he supposed.

“Thank you for having us,” replied the woman in the middle, leaning forward across the low table to extend her hand. Shoot, handshakes, should he have done that before he sat down? Did Phil normally do that? Techno was suddenly blanking on any social interaction he’d ever had prior to this one in his life.

Her hand was firm, warm, and had shallow calluses. The strong grip of a woman who worked and wasn’t intimidated by Techno in the slightest. Would it be easier for him if she was intimidated? More importantly, had Techno met her before? Her voice seemed… familiar. Ish. Familiarish.

Niki! That’s Nihachu Her name is Nikki, you’ve met her before Niki! Nikki? I never know which it is

“Uh, Niki, is it?”

She laughed, and it wasn’t a mean sound. Techno felt his face heating up anyway. “You remembered!” The look on her face wasn’t pity, nor offense, but she gave off the impression of being very knowing of what was going on in Techno’s brain, “My hair was brown last time we met, with the blonde in the front.”

Oh! Okay, yes, Techno could place her now. She’d been invited to the same weird political shindig festival party thing that Phil had dragged him to.

“Nice to see you again,” he said, a little more sincerely. And a touch relieved.

“You as well,” she said warmly, then gestured to the woman to her right. Er, well, to her left, Techno’s right—didn’t matter. “This is Captain Puffy, she’s a state-sponsored merchant we’ve been working closely with. She’s interested to see if she’d be a good match for this route, depending on what we work out.”

“Yo!”

Captain Puffy was an extremely short woman (maybe even shorter than Phil), though far from petite. Her big curling hair and big curling ram horns and big sunglasses and big captain’s coat all spoke to a relatively large personality, and the big smile she flashed him did not actually help settle Techno’s nerves. Maybe he should’ve had some tea or something before all this. She was also slouching, leaned against the arm of the couch with all the debonair swagger of a woman entirely at ease around important people. As an emperor of one of the world’s fastest growing empires, Techno could probably stand to take a page from her book.

Whose idea had it been to put him in charge, again? Oh right, his.

Gesturing to her other side, Niki continued, “And this is Ranboo. He’s something between a pupil and a little brother, to me; he’s mostly just here for this to be a learning experience.”

As short as the captain was, Ranboo was tall. Wraith-thin with too-big eyes and an air about him that seemed even more nervous than Techno felt. Techno at least had his flat affect and “monotone” voice (he still didn’t get that, but enough people had told him that he had a monotone by now that he just accepted it) to act as buffer. This kid (and Techno got a very strong impression that he was young, despite not knowing much about Ender ages (well, maybe he knew more than most, given the Empire’s plot-relevant access to the moon)) wasn’t so much as wearing his heart on his sleeve as he was stringing it up on a chandelier.

“Nice to meet you both,” Techno said, the captain giving him a lazy salute and Ranboo nodding so stiffly it looked like his neck might snap.

“Shall we get straight to it, then?” Niki asked, and Techno nodded, so incredibly thankful that someone else was comfortable taking charge of a conversation.

And then they sank blissfully into the thing that was Techno’s strong suit: his stuff. Techno had a good head for what items were worth, and while he wasn’t the most organized person (he had goons for that) he absolutely knew how much he had of what, and what the Empire could afford to spare in trading efforts, provided they received what they were promised in return. Now, storms could sink even the most experienced ships, and fleets could get blown off course, so he had to factor in wiggle room and contingency plans as well.

Another strong suit. Techno was a beast at contingency plans. Nobody could plan a contingency plan like Techno planned his plans.

The deeper they got into the numbers game and talk of resources, the more Techno chilled out. This wasn’t socializing, not really. He was mostly just indulging in his inventory vices while other people were in the room.

Something Essempi had in plenty that the Empire desperately needed was food. More specifically: vegetation. They had their arctic, thick-furred cows, their fluffy chickens, their heavy-hided boars, their densely-wooled sheep, and their round the clock fisheries. Nothing would breed too close to the moon portal, but here at the castle their herds and flocks were thriving just fine. But plants? That took underground greenhouses with low ceilings and constant torchlight to do anything. And a growing empire was a hungry thing: greenhouses alone weren’t going to be sustainable. Not long term.

Techno had his reservations about putting too much faith in their allies. A resource as important as food needed more than one source.

But. Techno’s reservations wouldn’t spontaneously feed everybody, and Essempi had been friendly and amicable all through negotiations. All things considered, they were probably the closest and most trustworthy ally the Empire had.

And their representatives didn’t make Techno want to melt into a puddle or stab anybody! So. Points all around in their favor. Niki did most of the talking, her voice soft and cheery, clearly the most familiar with Essempi resources and used to political negotiations. The captain would chime in mostly around the actual act of trade itself, naval logs and star charts and detailed maps crowding her end of the low table. Ranboo, as Niki mentioned, didn’t say… anything at all, the whole meeting. He just sat, straight-spined enough to put the strictest governess to shame and making eye contact with nobody, scratching notes into a book he’d brought.

Essempi was offering them good deals. More than fair, if Techno was being entirely honest. And he knew he didn’t have any personal charm to thank for that. He filed that away for future reference. Either Essempi was even more well off than rumors suspected, or there would come a day when they asked the Empire to pay back their generosity (likely with swords and soldiers, if the history books held any credence).

But that was fine. In the now, they were offering lucrative details for necessary resources. (In the future, Phil would need enrichment anyway (Techno, too, he did love a good fight)). Techno would still probably want to set up a couple additional trade agreements with other nations, just in case, just to cover all his bases. And the greenhouses obviously weren’t going anywhere, Techno would not be sacrificing even an ounce of pre-established self-sufficiency.

But even Techno, of all people, had to admit that he was feeling pretty optimistic by the time they all stood and shook hands in parting. He remembered to shake Puffy’s and Ranboo’s this time, Puffy’s hand tiny and grip strong, Ranboo’s slender fingers still faintly trembling with nerves but his smile seeming at the very least half-genuine.

Woof. Ough. His back. The time! The sun set early here, but he was still surprised to see that it had sunk below the horizon while he was squirreled away looking at documents and maps and an antique abacus. His staff seemed to agree, yawning and musing over dinner plans as the two groups dispersed, the Essempi convoy headed towards the guest quarters and Techno and his officials wandering further inwards of the castle.

“Well done in there, Your Majesty!” praised one of Techno’s staff while he wasn’t looking, and he was too embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t quite managed to catch who was talking, so he just raised a hand and gave a vague “Ayup” before leaving quickly. Much quicker than he had arrived, as it happened. So interesting, that things worked out like that.

“Busy day?” Phil asked as the door to the royal quarters clicked shut. Techno sighed heavily and let his head thunk back against the heavy wood. Phil, the intolerable jerk, giggled at him.

“Why weren’t you the one handling that again?”

“Because the little stunt we pulled was just a biiiiiit too successful,” Phil reminded with another chuckle, and Techno groaned as he shoved off the door.

It had been a gambit, but as a fledgling nation the Antarctic Empire had needed to gain the attention of the rest of the world, and gain their attention they had. An extremely brief, brutal, there-then-gone conquest that had left the vast majority of the world temporarily under the Empire’s claim. It served two purposes, each a message:

Do not, under any circumstances, make enemies of the Empire.

Probably a good idea to play nice and make friends, though.

Most of the world had taken the first message very much to heart, and the testing nudges they’d been making abruptly vanished. Some nations, like Essempi, had quickly jumped to playing nice, eager to make powerful allies (and perhaps just as eager to make sure they didn’t have a powerful enemy).

A couple nations had taken message number one as a challenge, and readied warships with bloodied thirst.

Not that the Empire couldn’t handle a bit of… rough play, but it did mean that after squashing attempts at overthrowing or subjugating them, Phil got saddled with miles of paperwork establishing the enemy’s surrender and the Empire’s new normal.

“I thought you were meeting with the guys who wanted moon access today?” Techno asked as he approached. Phil’d had dinner brought to their rooms, as they did most nights when they weren’t expected to make an appearance, and Techno let into the meat and eggs with gusto.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight was more surrender talk.”

“So that’s why you double booked us. You wanted ‘em alone in a room with you.”

Phil giggled, waggling his fingers so as to make a show of his talons.

Techno gave a very half-hearted kick to his shin. Quarter-hearted. Maybe even sixth-hearted. Phil cackled at him.

“Can’t let you outta my sight for ten minutes,” Techno groused around a mouthful of chicken. Phil popped a handful of red berries into his mouth (some of the only vegetation that could be grown outside of the greenhouses), and he looked altogether too smug.

“How’re things with Essempi going? Off to a running start?”

“Actually? Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“I like the representative they sent over, Niki, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, and so far they’ve been fair, if not generous.” Techno gave his partner a meaningful glance. “We should probably expect a request for military aid, sometime in the future.”

Phil shrugged, entirely unfazed. “We’ve always known that’s a possibility. And we’re not exactly hurting for it.”

“Figured as much.” Techno lifted his plate to slide the eggs into his open mouth, the fork method far too slow. “Honestly don’t think this deal is gonna take too long to finalize. Week, probably?”

“For you? That’s a goddamn miracle, mate.”

Techno snorted. “I know, right? She’s got a pupil along with her, skinny guy named Ranboo. Showin’ him the ropes.”

Phil spluttered a laugh. “And she chose you for a practice round!?”

“I know right? Like, c’mon, cut the guy some slack. He looked ready to shake out of his skin. Don’t just throw him off the deep end chanting ‘blood for the blood god’ like there’s gotta be less intimidatin’ guys than me out there.”

Phil giggled and Techno continued, “Brought a ship captain too, Puffy, shorter than you and louder. She’s been a good help settin’ realistic expectations, but I dunno how involved she’s gonna be in the rest of our meetings.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty good handle on it, mate. Good for you, good for you.”

Techno snorted. “Never thought we’d see the day.”

“Aww, I knew you could do it.” Techno cast him yet another look. He giggled. “Eventually.”

Techno guffawed and set his plate down, dropping his head back. By the Blood God, he felt tired.

“Well,” Phil continued, stretching his arms above his head and his wings out to each side, “nobody got attacked and no emergencies happened, so I’ll call this day a win.”

“Ah, but I did get attacked,” Techno said with a raised finger, remembering his joke from earlier.

“Oh?” Phil asked, with all the sharp-eyed curiosity of a man who knew a punchline was coming, but was trying to tell where from.

Techno heaved his head back up. “In the halls of our own very castle. I was caught off-guard—very brutally, I should add—by a ninja door.”

Phil broke immediately into cackles.

“Snuck up on me while I was just innocently walkin’ down the hall, Phil. Never would’ve expected it. One of our own doors. The betrayal was immense.”

“whAT?” Phil giggle-shouted, his feathers poofing and his shoulders shaking.

“I was just mindin’ my own business when bam! Suddenly the door was right there. Scared the life out of me. Don’t worry, Phil, I showed it who was boss. I twisted that handle like I was born for it.”

Phil was now laughing so hard tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

Techno grinned, warmth glowing in the center of his chest. Truthfully, it probably wasn’t that funny of a joke, but the combination of fatigue, the subject being unexpected, and Phil being an easy audience made it sound like ninja doors were the funniest thing in the whole world.

The night was still young, but Techno was utterly drained from the day of talking (and tomorrow would be much the same) so he called it an early night. Phil, equally tired from twisting arms into surrender (and maybe getting to play a little mean with his talons, who knew. Not Techno! Techno hadn’t been there to reel him in!) was more than happy to agree.

This far south, sleeping in your own bed was about as smart as wandering the town naked. Too much warmth leached out that way. It was only sensible that family members shared a bed together, with drapes around the edges to keep the air captive.

Techno had no family to speak of, except the one, so the two emperors dressed for the night and crawled in together, Phil’s top wing spread out over them like an added blanket and his icy little feet pressed up against Techno’s leg.

“Why are you always an ice cube?” Techno groused, gathering his friend in his arms.

“Shhhh, you’re just a friggin’ blast furnace, mate. Go to sleep.”

Techno huffed, breath stirring Phi’s hair and making him chuckle, then nuzzled down into the blankets and his companion, wishing he could hibernate the day off. Blood God himself, he was tired.

But wake the next morning he did, and the next, and the next after that. Essempi eventually embarked for their home, along with the first shipment of goods from the Empire. More countries entered peace treaties with them, or at the very least non-aggression pacts, particularly as more nations fell to the Antarctic Empire’s might. Trade was good, their people sleeping with full bellies and a more or less nutritionally balanced diet. The Empire produced plenty of coal, in its cavernous depths, and many nations of warmer climates had want for the ice they so easily chiseled up from around them.

Things were good.

Techno was getting… better, about the whole talking to people thing. After the first few days, Ranboo had started speaking, and Techno had found a kindred spirit in him. The two now exchanged regular correspondence. Mostly about books, but sometimes they’d share personal stories or gossip (apparently Captain Puffy was working very closely with a certain someone, indeed). Meetings were no longer torments summoned directly from hell (not that Techno liked them, but Techno was pretty sure he was never actually going to like meetings (honestly, he was pretty sure nobody did)). He and Phil were getting a pretty good handle on this whole, “being emperors” thing.

That said, politically motivated social functions were still the worst. But Essempi was, to date, still their closest and friendliest ally, and Techno knew enough about court niceties by now to know that regardless of how much he might’ve wanted to, he and Phil could not turn down their invitation to a ball.

“What even is the point of balls,” Techno groused as he examined the flimsy nothings the tailor had made for him to wear there. Too thin of a material, not nearly enough fur around his neck, he’d freeze to death in this in an instant. He… did like the gold bits, though. He’d conceded on that. And the jewelry. Those parts were nice. The rest of it was like walking around in wet paper, though.

“Maintaining positive social ties with political figures we’ve already established with and makin’ new friends with new people at a designated function for doing so—”

“I was bein’ sarcastic, Phil,” Techno cut off the overly-formal lecture, making Phil cackle. “It’s called a rhetorical question, Phil, ever heard of it?”

“Can’t say I have, mate,” Phil lied with a giggle.

“A rhetorical question is a—” Techno started, overly-formal lecture of his own primed and at the ready, and Phil swatted him with a big black wing, setting them both to laughing.

The boat ride to Essempi went about as well as anticipated. Phil flitted about, happily assisting with the crow’s nest and upper rigging, and Techno spent about half of it bent over the railing, the other half desperately attempting to coax water and ginger teas into his stomach that he didn’t immediately upend.

“We should build a land bridge,” Techno groused when his friend came over to both hydrate and mock him.

Phil, predictably, laughed, “Mate, I don’t know if even we mine up enough stone for that,” he said as he passed a water flask over. Techno swished it around his mouth and spit, trying to rid himself of the now everpresent taste of bile, then sipped slowly and delicately, his stomach groaning pathetically and churning at even that.

“Then we’re building flying machines and we’re taking those. Planes, blimps, hot air balloons, I don’t care, this is the last trip I sail anywhere.”

“Blimp’s not a bad idea,” Phil mused as Techno shut his eyes, bracing himself against the railing with renewed force and willing the nausea to pass him over without taking his water with it. “It’d be more regal and dignified than staggerin’ off a boat dehydrated and starved and swaying.”

“Gonna punch you for that.”

“Are you now?” he asked with a giggle.

“Ayup. Just give me three to five business days to get off this railing and then it’s over for you. It’s so over for you.”

More laughter. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Well, I’m off to go perch in the crow’s nest again, have fun pukin’ your guts out.”

“Death. Death and violence.”

His friend’s retreating laughter left him and he stewed in abject misery for the rest of the trip. By the time they hit land and Techno was able to collapse into a bed that wasn’t swaying every which way, he was even looking forward to the party, since it meant not being on the boat.

The flimsy cheesecloth the tailor had prepared for him made more sense in this warmer climate, and now that he wasn’t being a stubborn child about it he had to admit: he cleaned up good. Deep red and gold and black, Phil his match but green, they were striking, appearing wealthy and deadly and even, somehow, regal.

Despite, y’know, it being the two of them.

The party goers were respectful, nobody jumping at the chance to speak with the Antarctic emperors but no one intentionally snubbing them either, and Techno mostly just had to loom behind Phil with a ridiculously shatterable little wine flute pinched delicately between his fingers and listen. Answer the occasional polite question that was directed his way, make sure Phil didn’t get too excited at any perceived slight, it was almost even normal.

He was at the food table, piling high a plate he intended to share with his co-emperor, when he heard a familiar, boisterous voice.

“Emperor Technoblade!”

“Captain,” he greeted, turning to her. She extended her drinking glass, and he gently clinked his against it. “They’re lettin’ riffraff like you in here?”

Puffy barked a sharp laugh, loud and unabashed. “I’m a plus one.”

“Oh?” Techno raised an eyebrow. “You and Niki official, then?”

Puffy squinted. “And how exactly do you know about that?”

Techno smirked behind the rim of his glass. “I have informants everywhere.”

Puffy laughed, once again boisterous and booming, and landed a playful punch just barely above Techno’s elbow. Haha why are you so short.jpeg. Oh c’mon Chat that joke is not old that’s still peak comedy right there.

“Man, I can’t believe everyone’s so intimidated by you.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw me in a fight,” Techno countered, amused.

“And you wouldn’t say that if you saw me in one, blood boy!”

Techno arched an eyebrow. “Blood boy,” that was a new one. In their trade with Essempi, Techno and Phil had gotten to know the sea captain a little better each time she was in their port, and she’d taken to treating them with the same friendly irreverence she spoke to everyone with.

Techno set his plate down on the edge of the table, largely crowded out by the serving dishes but finding just enough space for it to not go falling over. Intentionally, he loomed over her, his impressive height casting her fully in shadow, and let himself grin.

“Careful, Captain. It’s not smart to threaten me with a good time.”

As tolerable as the party was thus far, Techno would be lying if he said he wouldn’t ditch in half a heartbeat to go screw around. And after the miserable journey here, a good friendly sparring match with a spunky lady sounded like even more fun than usual.

Puffy rocked up on her hooves, and even on the tips while Techno was stooping down she couldn’t really get “in” his face but he understood the gesture. His grin widened. It matched her own.

“What’s the matter, big boy, don’t think you could take me?”

“Miss Puffy, um, you promised Miss Niki you wouldn’t cause a scene,” came a timid voice from nearby, and both Techno and Captain Puffy perked.

“Ranboo,” Techno greeted, scooping up his plate of food and crossing the distance to his young friend.

“Hello, Emperor Technoblade, it’s nice to see you, please don’t encourage her.”

“Good to see you too,” Techno said warmly, meaning it. Through their letters, Techno had come to regard the young Enderian as a good friend.

Puffy gasped as she trotted over, and shoved right up into Ranboo’s space. “Are you the nark?”

“Um,” Ranboo said, backing slowly away only to be further crowded by a sheep woman half his height, clearly confused, “no?”

“Yeah, Captain, what’s with this baseless accusation you’re makin’ against my good pal Ranboo?”

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own girlfriend’s tagalong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about??”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Techno said, slinging an arm over Ranboo’s shoulders and nearly bowling the guy over with its weight. Techno had seen bamboo shoots with more structural integrity, smh.

“E-either way, please do not help Miss Puffy make a scene. Miss Niki specifically instructed her not to do that.”

“Guess we’ll just have to go somewhere there’s nobody else around,” Puffy said, still full of good cheer.

“True. Can’t make a scene if there’s no one to see it.”

“Oh, no. I. I’m going to go get Miss Niki.” Techno barked a laugh but released Ranboo to go do so, and Puffy waggled her fingers at his retreating backside.

“Kayyyy. We won’t be here when you get back!”

Techno glanced down at the plate in his hand. Hm. Well, he couldn’t just return it all to the serving dishes, he’d already touched it. Puffy nudged him with her elbow, and when he glanced her way he found her pulling at her wide neckline and winking at him. With her other hand, she lifted the neck of a bottle of what surely must be rum, and he caught on immediately. Using one of the overly-fancy napkins, he bundled his snacks and passed them to her, watching her disappear them into her clothes. That was so smart, he’d have to talk to his tailor about providing him that kind of opportunity in future outfits.

His loyalty to his co-emperor did him in, though. Puffy was already heading out one of the patio doors, sneaking off into a well-maintained garden, but Techno detoured to grab Phil, knowing if there was going to be any fighting, for fun or for murder, he’d be heartbroken if Techno left him out.

“Emperor Technoblade,” greeted Niki from behind him while he was trying to wait out the conversation Phil was currently engaged in. She sounded icier than when she’d been in his antarctic home, negotiating trade.

Busted.

“Hello, Niki,” he returned. Definitely not sounding guilty. Nothing going on over here officer, no suspicious activity whatsoever.

“It seems my partner for the evening has vacated the premises. Would you care to dance with me in her place?”

“Uhhhhh.” Techno wasn’t the best at court niceties, but he knew a request from a “request.” He took her outstretched hand.

“What uh—why the sudden interest?” Oh that sounded so suspicious he could stab himself.

“Can a lowly civic servant not ask an emperor for a dance?”

“Uhhhh no, no that’s fine. That’s uh, that’s fine, just, haven’t uh—how you been, Niki, haven’t seen you in a while!” he not-so-subtly changed the subject.

“I have been alright. Times have been better for us than in a long time, and I have been kept busy making sure it all stays in running order.”

“Not too busy, I hope?”

Niki laughed, but it wasn’t the most mirthful sound he’d ever heard.

In some of Ranboo’s letters, he’d voiced concern for his mentor/sister figure, writing of nightmares and insomnia that was only partially due to her high workload.

“Cause stressin’ yourself out can take a toll on the body, you know,” Techno pushed, not sure if it was his place to or not, but eh. He liked Niki. She was a good sensible woman who (normally) didn’t make him feel like dying or killing out of sheer mortification. And during negotiations, she’d been friendly. “It’s important to take breaks and have fun, every now and then.”

She pursed her lips in a frown, and it looked so much like she was pouting that he chuckled. “C’mon, take a load off.” He grinned at her, playful and a little teasing. “There’s a very pretty girl outside who I know would just love to have you come goof off with us.”

“Well now that’s not out of the ordinary. That very pretty girl is always trying to get me to goof off.”

“Maybe you should listen to her more often.”

Niki sighed and let Techno spin her, the dress she’d chosen for the party flaring nicely. “Maybe I should.”

“Yeahhhhhhhh that’s the spirit! Come join us! We’ll make, like, a bookclub or something.”

Niki let out a “pfft,” and then giggled quietly. “I should put that in my credentials somewhere. ‘In a bookclub with an emperor.’”

“Two emperors if I can get him away from those—what are they, petty nobles?”

“Ambassadors from Kpop.”

“Cringe. We gotta get outta here, Niki, I can feel my viewership dropping by the moment.”

“I don’t know what that means—Technoblade!”

In a grand sweeping movement that was definitely not typical but could still technically be considered dancing, Techno rushed the two of them towards the patio, catching Phil’s eye just briefly enough to give a jerk of his chin, watching his friend’s eyes light up with curiosity and mirth.

Okay, good, Phil was coming.

“Really,” Niki scolded, but she wasn’t resisting him at all as he dragged her along, out into the privacy of the manicured foliage and beyond.

“Ehhh, relaaax. Nobody saw us leave. Probably.”

“I am quite sure a great many people saw us leave.”

“Eh. Phil and I already talked to everybody important that would get, like, big mad if we didn’t. We can ditch.”

“I am part of the hosting party.”

“Aaaaaaaaand now you’re not. So it’s fine, it’s fiiiine.”

Niki giggled, and it sounded just a little more genuine. Good. He was getting a good grade in cheering Niki up, something reasonable to want and possible to achieve.

“Heyyyyyy, look what the pig dragged in!” Puffy cheered, bottle open in one hand and waving excitedly with the other.

“You are incorrigible. I cannot believe you dragged an emperor in on your shenanigans.”

“This is actually pretty consistent with my character honey, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Techno barked a laugh and snagged the bottle from her, taking a big gulp before extending it towards Niki.

“I am surrounded by ruffians,” she said, but he noted she took the bottle and a big drink of her own.

“Ehhh, I wouldn’t really call two people ‘surrounded,’ maybe sandwiched?” A familiar sound of wings had Techno’s elbow angling up on instinct, and soon he had a shoulder full of best friend. “Okay, Phil’s here, now you’re surrounded.”

“Who’re we surrounding?”

“We’re forcing Niki to take a load off and have a nice evening.”

“Pog.”

“Cheers to that, Emperor number two!”

Phil spluttered around laughter as he hopped from his perch. “I’m just the number two now, am I?” He took the bottle from Niki, who went and leaned on her laughing girlfriend and pressed a kiss atop one of her horns.

The sound of footsteps and not-so-subtle huffing and puffing had them all turning to look. It was far too loud to be any kind of assassin, so nobody was on guard, and Phil took another swig of rum as Ranboo rounded a hedge.

Realizing his late entry made all eyes fall on him, Ranboo flushed. Huh. He turned kinda greenish on one side and a more typical red on the other. Pogchamp, Techno supposed.

“Uh,” he said, still catching his breath a bit. “Um. Miss Niki, you, uh, left the party.”

“Sorry Ranboo,” she said, looking honestly chagrined. “I did not mean to leave you there on your own.”

Ah. Left alone by the extrovert that adopted you at a party that wasn’t your idea to attend in the first place. A fate worse than death, which Techno would not wish on his worst enemy, much less friend.

“Um. Why is, everyone here, and not, inside?” he asked, tail twitching and lashing with his agitation.

“We’re ditching,” Techno said, slinging an arm around the little beanpole once again. “You are too.”

“I’m—what?” Ranboo spluttered as Techno dragged him forward, starting the group into a slow amble further from the noises of the party, Niki looking at him with apology and Puffy cheering around a laugh.

“Yeah, mate, you’re a delinquent now!” Phil said brightly, pushing Ranboo from behind while Techno pulled. “Gotta play hookie with us.”

“I, um, I uh, well,” he stammered, twisting his fingers, looking about between them and finding absolutely no help.

“You’re bein’ peer pressured. We’re peer pressurin’ you. Just come goof off with us, Ranboo, join the dark side, we have cookies.”

“We do, actually,” Puffy said, taking the rum back and finishing off the bottle. “I’ve got enough snacks hidden in my various pockets to feed an army.”

“Absolute pogchamp.”

“Oh I knew you were up to something!”

“Always,” Puffy said with a wink, rising up onto her hooftips to kiss Niki’s cheek.

“I, uh…” Ranboo sighed. It was a great heaving thing, making him sound more and more like a dejected cat.

“Yeahhhh! One Ranboo, officially roped into our nonsense. Gang’s all here now, gang’s all here.”

“So what’re we doing?” Phil asked cheerfully, crossing his wrists behind his head in a strikingly anime fashion.

“Well, the captain and I were gonna fight—” Phil’s eyes lit up in an excited glint, drawn to the allure of playful violence, “—but since we’ve got Niki and Ranboo now I say we just goof around on the beach.”

“That… does actually sound kind of nice,” Niki admitted, and Ranboo’s whole body perked hopefully. Techno gave one noodle arm a nudge with an elbow and sent him a quick wink. They’d get that girl to take a load off and enjoy herself, even if it took all four of them to do it.

A rustling, too large to be a rabbit, came from a bush ahead of them, just on that seam of land where dirt shifted into sand. Not a moment later, out spilled a man, a man wearing a bright blue onesie.

“Connor?!?” asked all five of them, equally shocked.

“Hey heyyyyyyy, guyyyyys,” Connor said, one leg still trapped inside the bush, splayed out on his back and craning his neck back to look at them, lifting a hand in a peace sign. “How’s it going?”

“Connor, what are you doing here?” Niki asked, concerned.

“Wait, how do you know Connor?” Phil asked.

“How do you know Connor?” Ranboo countered, Niki helping pry the man loose from the bush’s terrible clutches and more or less right himself on his feet.

“Oh, I get around a lot,” Connor said blithely, “At this point I know most people.”

For a moment, they stood in a loose circle, staring silently at one another.

A bottle uncorked and attention turned to Puffy. “I mean, I also know Connor,” she said, taking a swig of something new. “Wanna come screw around on the beach with us? I brought snacks.”

“Oh fuck yeah.”

And screw around they did. Mostly just walking and talking under starlight, the ocean breeze cool but only as much to be pleasant. They found a nice flat rock to take a sit on and Puffy shared the many treats she’d secreted, everyone chowing down and laughing around jokes and conversation. Phil and Puffy got into a wrestling match in the sand at one point, Connor braided uneven sections of Puffy’s hair while Niki pleated nice, neat rows, Techno and Ranboo discussed the recent installment of a book series they’d both been following and that Ranboo had shipped a copy of, knowing Techno would want one and wouldn’t want to wait long enough to place the order all the way from Antarctica.

Phil perched on Techno’s shoulders for no reason other than to feel tall, Connor relayed a tale so wild no one was sure if Connor could actually have survived that sort of thing, or if he was just making up shit as he went along, and Niki was laughing with her whole chest, flush to her cheeks and a weight lifted from her.

It was a good evening. A good night, as the moon rose higher and the distant, far-off sounds of partying wound lower. Their group was winding down as well, conversation fading into companionable silence.

Niki’s weight slumped against Techno’s side, and he glanced down to find the woman asleep.

“Gotter,” he teased softly, nudging Ranboo on his other side.

“Oh, good,” he said fondly, peering around Techno and ending up leaning on him too, as a result. Phil chuckled from above, still perched on Techno’s shoulders. Connor munched away at the remaining snacks, seated on the sand in front of the flat stone, and Puffy leaned contentedly back on her hands on Niki’s other side, staring up at the starlight.

Techno still might not be the best at talking to people, but even he had to admit: if it meant getting him here, on a night that he would’ve otherwise slogged through in a stuffy party full of people he didn’t know, he was pretty glad he’d done so.

Ayup. Not a bad place for him to be.

#dream smp #Technoblade #Philza #Emduo #Niki Nihachu #Captain Puffy #Ranboo #emerald duo #smpearth #smp earth #fantasy politics #my writing #haro writes #connoreatspants is also there #syndicate #dsmp

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