Chapter Text
Morning fights are the worst.
Despite what Techno says, there’s nothing good about them. Even though it means it’s not boiling hot, there’s usually less people in the crowd, and they can finish fighting by midday and get some sparring in- it still sucks!
It does!
Mostly because fights can start as early as 8 in the morning. Who wants to watch a fight at 8 in the morning? Who does that? It’s like ordering a pizza or eating a taco that early, it just doesn’t feel right!
Sometimes the smaller crowd feels more intimate, like those in attendance aren’t there to be entertained, but to judge. He can feel the eyes on his back that much more, making his skin crawl. It’s not his fault he’s more sensitive to it. He just… is.
Ranboo nearly slams into a wall as he runs through the halls. He slept in, wrote in his journal, made sure the room was clean before he left-
He knew he was forgetting something!
See! This is why morning fights suck!
He comes up on the armory, slowing his steps just a tad so he won’t knock into the chests right next to the doorway.
He totally didn’t know to do that because he’s tripped over them before. Nope!
As usual, his mentor is waiting for him, ready to go.
Techno leans back against a wall, a trident strapped to his back and a sword hanging at his hip. A small dagger is attached to his belt. His hair is up in a high ponytail, tied with a strip of leather. More strips are woven through his hair, making them swish when he turns his head.
He stands near one of the doorways, one ear listening out while he tightens the straps on his armor. He looks nonchalant, but Ranboo can see the stiffness of his back and the force he uses to tug on the straps, making them way too tight to be comfortable. There’s a frown on his face, and it only seems to deepen the more he looks at the door.
Ranboo can’t hear anything, but he assumes that Techno can from the way Techno squeezes his fist around one of his leather breastplate’s straps.
Techno’s ears perk up at his approach, pink hair swishing as he looks away from the door. He straightens as the enderman hybrid comes into view, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.
“You’re late.”
“Lost track of time,” Ranboo mutters, rushing to start strapping on some armor and pick up any weapons.
Most of the armor pieces don't fit him, his tall and lanky form making most things too short or too wide. There’s always one set that works, but it’s never in the same spot twice. He’s sure some of the newer fighters have been moving it as a prank, which is funny, but now is not the time.
Techno takes pity on him, grabbing the sword Ranboo usually uses along with an ax. Ranboo mutters out a thanks, taking them both before moving back to search through the chests.
Ranboo finds his chest plate as a muffled roar sounds from above them. The crowd sounds energetic today, and the fight going on right now is sure to only rile them up further before the main event. After all, every fight with Techno in it is the main event. Even at 10 in the morning.
The pit always got plenty of people no matter what. People flocked far and wide to see if the rumors of the Blade were actually true. If he really could toss an ender pearl across the pitch blindfolded, or take on an opponent with only a leather breastplate, a wooden sword, and a dozen eggs.
Ranboo wouldn’t have believed it either if he hadn’t seen it. He understood why people kept coming back to watch. Technoblade was a sight to behold, truly in his own element as he reigned supreme as the king of the pit.
And if Techno was the king, Ranboo was his squire. Or page. Or whatever the word was for it. There always seemed to be a new title for him on all the posters, he was always being introduced as something different.
They made a pretty good team, at least he’d like to think so after all those years of training under Technoblade. He’d learned a couple of things. Maybe.
Techno still told him that he should try getting good, but he could hear the pride in his mentor’s voice whenever he said it.
Honestly, without Technoblade, he probably would’ve died in his first match. He’s pretty lucky.
He grins a little at the thought.
“What are you smilin’ about?” Techno asks while adjusting his bracers, tightening the straps over his arms. He doesn’t look up, but Ranboo can see his eyebrow raise anyway.
The enderman hybrid doesn’t bother to mention that if Techno cinches the straps any tighter, they’ll cut off his circulation.
“How did- You’re not even looking at me!”
“I’ve got eyes everywhere kid.”
“That sounds like something a mom would say.” Ranboo adjusts his own armor, giving the side door a glance in silent question. Anything worth telling me?
They may live in a gladiator ring, but no one can resist a good piece of gossip.
Techno looks up, putting his hands on his hips. He shakes his head in silent answer and responds with, “Stop changing the subject. Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“Nothing.”
“Daydreamin’ again?”
Ranboo shakes his head. Head in the game, head in the game. “No, uh, just pregame jitters,” he lies. “Just excited for the tournament, you know?”
Techno snorts. “Deep breaths kid, deep breaths.” There’s the smallest smile on Techno’s face.
“I know, I know! It’s like that’s the only words you know how to say before the bell! Run out of long vocab words, old man?” Ranboo teases.
“Maybe one day you’ll actually listen to what I’m sayin’ so I don’t have to repeat myself so often.”
“Hey!”
“I’m teasing ya kid, relax!” The piglin hybrid takes Ranboo in headlock and ruffles his hair, endlessly gentle with how much more muscle he has on the kid. The enderman hybrid’s nearly skin and bones, but he’s got a foot and then some over his mentor, which makes the position almost always uncomfortable, but he’s used to it. Techno would never hurt him.
Though it’s a little early for this. Techno can be physically affectionate, but he usually saves it for when they’ve won, or if Ranboo’s done a good job during training and they’re back in their cell.
It’s not a home. Even with everything the arena has done to make it seem like one, all it will ever be is a gilded cage. Never a home.
Ranboo doesn’t remember if he ever had one, but he knows it wouldn’t be like this. And if he ever had a new one, it wouldn’t be the same without Techno.
Not that he’d ever say it to Techno’s face. The man is terrible at accepting any sort of verbal affection. He’s worse than Ranboo, and Ranboo is the king of awkward.
“You’re in a good mood today,” Ranboo says, pulling himself out of his thoughts. He tugs himself out of the headlock, and Techno lets him go.
“It’s gonna be a good day.”
“Yeah?”
Techno rolls his eyes. “Have you seen the other teams? We’re cracked . We’ll be in and out in no time.”
Ranboo laughs. “Well it’s not our fault they never separate us.”
“Yeah, well, social interaction is cringe.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Lights flash, and bass thrums throughout the pitch.
Showtime.
Techno headbobs to the music playing over the speakers, heading to a set of stairs which leads to a high ledge above the course.
Senior members of each team enter first, using ledges near the top of the arena to pearl onto the floating platforms. Each entrance is perfectly timed for maximum effect and to coincide with the highlight reel that appears with each fighter.
It also helps to know exactly where the platforms are every time so the chances of making a bad pearl throw are lower.
Not zero, but definitely lower.
Techno taps his hooves against the floor, the platform lighting up with a countdown. He stands just inside the ledge opening, keeping in the shade and out of sight.
Ready? He signs.
Ranboo grins, his sharp teeth reflecting the light as he climbs his own set of stairs towards his ledge. Yeah.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the moment you've been waiting for! The reigning team champion of Hypixel! The one, the only, Blood God!" The crowd roars in approval as the announcer hypes him up, highlights from previous battles appearing on the big screen, the fans starting to break into a chant of "Blood for the Blood God".
The crowd roars, and with a smash of a pearl, Techno disappears with a burst of purple particles.
Ranboo tightens his bracers, eyes on the floor as he watches lights on the ledge as the timer clicks down.
He doesn’t need it. He’s done the routine enough that he can do it with his eyes closed. They haven’t changed the music in months.
If it ain’t broke… That seems to be the arena’s solution to everything.
The crowd always loves the entrance anyway.
The music starts getting louder in preparation for the drop.
"The Ender Prince!"
His cue.
Ranboo steps on his platform, his heels brushing air as he turns his back to the arena. With a wave and wink in perfect time, he leans back, arms out as he falls through open air.
His stomach drops, but his heart soars.
The drop always feels the worst, but for just a moment, he's flying.
Endermen can't fly, but if he could teleport like they do, he's sure it would feel just like this.
He summersaults through the air, hardly processing hitting the packed dirt of a platform before he sprints, vaulting off the side.
He twists, his foot barely scraping the edge of another platform as it rotates around the first, and he's falling-
With a yank and a jolt, he's thrown up, tucking in his knees to avoid hitting his assistant. He straightens when he's high enough, spreads his feet to be shoulder width apart-
Techno grunts as Ranboo lands perfectly on his hands, clasping them around Ranboo's feet to help the enderman stay balanced as he takes a bow. The crowd is deafening, and Ranboo grins, baring sharp fangs as the big screen brightens with a close up of the two. Techno huffs, but Ranboo knows he's fighting a smile.
It gets 'em every time. Even Techno can't resist how cool it is.
"Cuttin' it a little close kid."
Ranboo hums, flipping off of Techno's hands to land on his feet. "Jealous?"
"Just because your spine has the consistency of cooked spaghetti-"
"If you want to switch places-"
"You can’t handle the weight trainin’ it would take to do that.”
“Bet.”
The big screen switches to the words "Make Some Noise" and a countdown appears.
Techno snorts, and Ranboo can hear the fondness in it.
“Hey,” Ranboo says, putting his hands on his hips. Techno looks over at him, raising an eyebrow.
“Bet I can get more kills than you.”
“Yeah right.”
“Winner gets to pick the weapon for the next spar,” Ranboo holds his hand out for a shake.
“Oh you’re so on!”
They won.
Techno was right. They’d swept.
Not that it wasn’t expected. The handlers had stopped trying to get them to throw the prelims. They knew it wasn’t going to happen. The most they could hope for was that Ranboo and Techno would at least make it interesting for the crowd.
As long as they made the arena money. That’s all the overseer cared about anyway.
Speaking of-
"My champions!" The overseer wraps an arm around each of them, awkwardly making them both hunch since he is significantly shorter than both of them. "You always make the preliminaries interesting! Final bets are already rolling in, and we haven't even filled spots for the semis. I could kiss you both!"
"Please don't," Techno rumbles, and the overseer laughs, squeezing their shoulders.
"No worries, no worries." The overseer claps Ranboo's back, almost pushing him over with how hard it is. Ranboo stumbles forward, and the overseer steps away from them.
“But how are my two favorite fighters? None the worse for wear?”
Techno snorts, and Ranboo fights not to roll his eyes. He’s mindful enough to keep his skepticism hidden. Even if Ranboo and Techno actually were the overseer’s favorite fighters, it wouldn’t stop them from being beaten black and blue if they didn’t do well enough.
The overseer glares at Techno for a moment, before shaking his head. They give Ranboo a once over, focusing on a cut on Ranboo's cheek with sharp eyes. "Not too many scars, it doesn't sell well."
Techno frowns from beside him, shifting his weight to hide Ranboo from the overseer’s view. He narrows his eyes, and the overseer's grin sharpens. Techno growls low in his throat; the overseer doesn't miss a beat, cocking their head to the side just slightly, as if Techno is a new toy they haven’t figured out yet. They glance over at Ranboo once more, and the growling gets impossibly lower.
How the overseer hasn’t died of fright from that look, Ranboo will never know.
“Well!” The overseer claps their hands before spreading them wide, attempting to snap everyone back to attention after the momentary standoff. "Keep doing good boys! I expect a lot from you! Big things!” They glance once more at Ranboo. “Big things.”
The overseer turns and walks away.
The tension sits in the air even as the overseer rounds the corner. Out of sight, but not out of mind.
"What was that?" Ranboo says quietly, as if anyone could still hear them in this hallway. It’s empty, but there’s no telling if the walls have ears.
Some days he’s not quite sure if the walls don’t.
Techno hums, almost as if in agreement to his train of thought. "No idea." He looks back at Ranboo, giving him a searching look.
All this eye contact is making the enderman side of him itch. "What?"
"Just thinkin'," Techno drops the look, turning to face his protege. He still looks perturbed, but he shakes his head, as if trying to clear it. "You go on. I’ll catch up for training later, okay?”
“You sure?”
“I’ve-I’ve just got a lot on my mind kid.” Techno fingers come up to dig in his hair, before pulling a little at the roots. A nervous tick. “Just need to blow off some steam.”
It’ll be a miracle if the arena is still standing after that. There’s a reason Techno tends to take twice as many fights as anyone else. Ranboo’s sure the higher-ups are trying to wear him out of his seemingly tireless energy.
Ranboo nods all the same.
Techno quirks his lips at that. “I can hear the cogs turning up there kid. Don’t worry about it.”
As Techno turns away and trails down the hall, Ranboo can’t help but think the same.
There’s cogs turning in Techno’s head, and Ranboo isn’t sure if he should be worried or not.