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He had just wanted to go to the shop to buy some food for him and Wilbur and a Coke Zero for Tommy.
How was he to know that a group of random teenagers around his age hated pink hair and his brothers?
“In my defence, there was no way I could’ve known how this day would have gone.”
Is the mantra he seemed to need to repeat to his Dad.
Let’s just start from the start.
Techno woke up at 11 am and groggily and half-consciously decided that he was craving jolly ranchers. Which was weird because he usually despised them with every cell of his body, however, he desperately wanted some of the grape ones.
So, heaving himself out of bed, he begrudgingly dragged his feet to the shower, turned on the water, grabbed a towel and sighed when he eventually got in and the hot water hit him.
After his extensive shower that included washing and conditioning his hair, which was always a tedious job, in the water that Wilbur would’ve complained was “hotter than the surface of the earth,” Techno got out of the shower and draped the towel around himself, humming as he went back to his bedroom.
He could tell from the lack of a yelling Tommy, a cackling Wilbur and a groaning Phil that none of them were home.
He remembered briefly Tommy saying he was going to hang out with Ranboo and Tubbo and Wilbur saying he was going to band practice.
Phil was either still asleep or getting groceries.
Techno rummaged through his clothes, settling for a black turtleneck with a dusty pink baseball jacket with a “T” sewn into the front that Wilbur bought him after they watched a high-school musical.
It was a joke, of course, but Techno found it went with a lot of his clothes, so he wore it all the time.
Tommy had a red one, and Wilbur had a yellow one.
And Techno wore his religiously.
He put on some dark grey trousers and dried off his hair.
Braiding his hair loosely, the pinkette grabbed his wallet, shoving it into his pocket, picking up his phone and putting his headphones in.
With the sound of his playlist running in the background, Techno went downstairs and took his house key, opening the door, leaving and locking up behind him.
He hummed walking down the street, looking at the birds and the passing cars.
The roads were surprisingly empty but Techno didn’t mind, enjoying the fresh air and looking at all the flowers he passed and wondering if Tommy knew which they were and if Wilbur would want to dry press one.
Distracted in his thoughts and listening to music, Techno was deaf to the whispers across the road and blind to the stares.
See, he figured something was off. It’s said people have a sense for when someone is watching them. Techno blamed his paranoia and kept walking, only slightly oblivious to the people across the road walking across the road to fall only a small bit behind him.
He turned into the shop, finally, and beelined to the sweet section. Scanning the aisle, his eyes landed on the bag of Jolly Rogers. Grinning and snatching them, he caught a glance of sour patch kids.
Coming to the conclusion Wilbur would be happy to have his favourite snack after a long band practice, he picked those up too.
As he went to pay, he passed the drinks section and just said he’d buy Tommy a Coke Zero.
He was such a good brother.
But he still shrugged off the eyes burning the nape of his neck.
He walked up to the line, and pulled out his phone, scrolling through it absentmindedly as he waited for his turn to pay.
When the cashier was free, he paid for his stuff and awkwardly made small talk over weather and sweets before signing in relief after getting handed his change and almost running out of the shop.
He didn’t hear the steps behind him.
Techno went down the same route he’d come.
It was almost 2 pm at this stage and the sun was high. He let his playlist go on as he scrolled through Twitter and Instagram, smiling at the pictures of his brothers just posted with captions like ‘WITH TUBBO AND RANBOO’ and ‘with the band’.
Tommy and Wilbur were so similar, it was terrifying yet hilarious.
Even the picture itself looked similar.
Smiling slightly, Techno opened the camera to take a photo of himself to post, planning on talking about how mediocre his Saturday was compared to his siblings.
Angling the camera so you could see most of the bag of sweets and his hair than his face, he caught a glimpse in the corner of the camera.
A group of maybe seven teenagers trailed close to him.
Embarrassment rushed over him as he quickly turned off his phone, shoving the phone into the shop bag only for a realisation to hit him.
A feeling formed in Techno’s stomach knowing that he’d seen that group before.
Searching his mind as fast he could, the feeling grew as he recognised where he’d seen them.
They had been the group in school that constantly scowled towards him and pointed at him, with their fingers and glares.
And now they were following him.
No, no. Maybe they weren’t. Maybe they were just taking the same path!
But so close behind?
All of this thinking stopped him from hearing or seeing the group slowly close in. He only realised when he was surrounded.
Shit.
“Uhm, hi?” Immediately he winced at the utter awkwardness that seemed to be his entire personality.
Though it was hard to hear the awkwardness in the monotone voice, Techno heard it and silently hoped they hadn’t.
“Hello, Techno.” The brown hair one in front of him said. He gave the energy of someone who believed he was better than everyone else and was clearly the self-appointed leader.
So, needless to say, Techno hated him already.
“Hi, uhh?”
“Jared.” The boy— Jared— answered the silent question.
“Hi, Jared.”
Techno went to push past before a hand grabbed his arm.
He twisted his arm quickly and instinctively, leaving the arm of the person who’d tried to grab him in his grasp.
Tightening his grip on their wrist, which earned him a yelp, he pushed them away and glared at Jared who looked unimpressed.
“What exactly is it that you want, Jared?” He asked, voice steady and schooled as ever. Jared grinned a sly grin.
“Well, Technoblade, I want an example .”
Techno stared at him as Jared quietened down, before realising he expected an answer.
“Cool.” He went to walk away again only for two new people to walk in front of him, not blocking his view from Jared but blocking his way out.
They were all seventeen and eighteen but the two in front of him looked at least twenty.
Sighing, he fed Jared’s fantasy. “An example of what ?”
Jared’s stupid grin grew wider as his eyes lit up.
“You. I mean, look at you! You’re a boy with girly hair. It’s long and dyed pink for the love of Prime! And don’t get me started on your insufferable brothers.
That Tommy one never shuts up. And Wilbur.
Ugh, Wilbur.
Parading around with Sally like he even slightly deserves her. He’s so stupid and irritating.”
Techno could physically feel his blood pressure rise as he forced himself to not lunge at the brunette.
He could have sworn there was a red-tinted vignette edging around his vision, but the boy went on.
“But it’s not like I could do anything to him. Not when he’s surrounded by his failing band, Tommy and Sally’s friends at all times.
You, however, sit on your own. I’m going to make a wild assumption and say your quite the introvert.”
Techno could’ve applauded sarcastically at the boy's attempt at edginess. In reality and Techno’s opinion, he sounded stupid. Like a villain from one of Tommy’s Disney movies.
He didn’t voice this, of course, but he did have to repress a slight chuckle.
“I see your two brothers are having quite the day. One look at their Instagrams’ was quite enough. Seems like they won’t be home til late, huh?”
Techno shrugs.
“More time for us.”
And suddenly the pieces began to fall into place.
He refused to let Jared have any satisfaction, forcing his face into a bored expression.
“Just leave me alone man, I haven’t done anything to you.”
Jared mocked considering.
“Well, maybe you haven’t, but your brothers have.
And it’s your own fault walking around looking like a girl with pink, braided hair.
But, would you rather I target one of your brothers?
Maybe I’d pick Tommy. So young. So easy to throw around.
I doubt he’d be able to stay up for too many punches, but-“
“You leave Tommy out of this.”
And Jared laughed .
“He a soft spot, huh?”
And Techno stayed silent.
“Drag ‘em into the alley here.”
And before Techno could utter a word, the twenty-year-olds in front of him grabbed his arms, tight enough that he knew they would bruise, dragging him kicking and flailing towards the alley. Techno yelled, at the top of his lungs.
“HEY. GET OFF OF ME. SOMEONE, I DON-“
Before getting cut off by a hand covering his mouth.
Immediately he bit down as hard as he could before getting thrown inside the alley by the man he’d bitten.
His back hit the wall and groaned as he felt his back pop.
He goes to stand before a foot rockets into his nose with a sickening crack that echoed through the alley.
Suddenly, the quiet streets were inconveniencing, because nobody heard him yell.
He forces himself up, barring teeth as blood streamed steadily from his nose, into his mouth, dripping onto his black turtleneck and the edges of his jacket.
One of the older boys pulled a weird wooden bolt from their pocket and with a snap, the blade was revealed.
The fight suddenly got a lot more serious.
Techno didn’t need to look to see the smugness radiating from Jared.
Not that he had time, lunging at the man.
He must have caught him by surprise the man yelled, taking the tackle as Techno wrapped his arms around the older man’s waist and pushed with all the strength he could muster as his nose throbbed in pain. He fell with the man, grabbing at his arms, reaching for the knife before one of the teenagers around his age pulled him back, pulling him back from his armpits and slamming him onto the floor and pinning him down.
Despite his struggle the boy had two others hold down Techno’s arms as he took the knife from the other boy, and dragged it down Techno’s cheek. Only hard enough for beads of blood to creep around the blade before Techno remembered something Dream had told him during sparring months ago.
“Sometimes, you gotta play dirty. Not everyone follows the rules, why should you?”
Play dirty , right.
Desperately thinking, Techno forced himself not to flinch at the cold metal dragging down his cheek followed by a warm sting.
And, without thinking and as hard as he could, his knee shot up.
The boy above him yelled, groaning as tears built in his eyes and dropping the knife to the side of Techno’s head, falling slowly and borderline crawling to the wall.
Techno just escaped getting stabbed by kneeing a guy in the nuts and it finally dawned upon him what Dream had meant.
Play dirty.
Shooting up as fast as he could, dizziness and nausea fighting their way up only to be swallowed down as Techno lunged for the knife.
It got kicked away by the man he’d bitten earlier, sliding under a dumpster much to Techno’s dismay.
He didn’t let it discourage him though.
He knew realistically, he could beat all of them in a fight.
But together?
No.
So he’d play dirty and go for the weakest link.
He ran towards Jared, who was still smirking and punched so hard across the face, Techno felt the jaw move out of place. Jared let out a scream and Techno grabbed him before he could fall, digging his fingers into the brunette’s hair and pulling his head back before he propelled it forward, crashing the head against the chipped brick wall with an almost sickening, wet crunch and a scream of agony.
The blood glistened sickeningly on the wall, coating Techno’s hands as he wiped at the wounds on his face to no prevail.
The onlookers watched, shocked.
One gagged but Techno didn’t waver, shooting to his next victim.
An arm shoots out, punching him in the stomach, knocking him back and forcing the air out of him.
Heaving he rolled back and winced as the side of the jumper and jacket felt damp.
He had rolled into a forming puddle of Jared’s blood.
He heard the boy whine and cry quietly and he pushed any sympathy aside, standing up slowly but steadily and landing a kick in the boy’s stomach before storming back to the gang.
He jumped at one of them, digging his nails in and feeling his nails go deeper and deeper until he felt the nails break skin and dig further. The man cried out in pain and someone grabbed Techno’s shoulders.
He fired his head back, the back of his head and the person’s nose colliding and the person stumbled back as Techno dizzily focused back on the person he had a grip on.
Digging his nails deeper, he dragged them to the dumpster, bashing them against it, until his nails dragged from their arms, leaving angry lines down them.
He went to do more before a hand grasped his hair, struggling, someone pulled him to a wall.
They wanted to do to him what he’d done to Jared.
He grabbed the arms holding on and letting adrenaline and instinct guide him as he falters, falling to his knees before throwing the man over his shoulder.
The man was airborne for a millisecond before crashing into the ground, spine cracking excruciatingly loud.
Techno goes to stand up, knowing there are two left. Only to be kicked down, a hand holding his arms above his head and a leg pinning him down.
Through the ringing in his ears, he heard it.
“I GOT HIM.”
The sound of frantic footsteps was followed by a swoosh and a crack.
At first, he lay there confused before the white-hot pain settled in his chest.
His ribs felt like they were on fire. He let out a cry, squirming under the tight grip, fruitlessly.
“That was for Jared.”
Another kick dragged a scream from his already raw throat, breathing beginning to become a chore.
“That was for the boy you hit against the dumpster.”
And another, this one to his face.
“And that one was for my mate.”
One last one.
To his arm.
The person stepped on his arm slowly , the bones splintering and cracking under the foot as Techno screamed, thrashing as the pain climbed up his arm to his head.
“And that one just because.”
The grin was evident in his voice.
“Let him go—“ he couldn’t hear the name,
a new voice said. Help?
“I want to see him try to get away and beg for mercy after all this trouble.”
Never mind, not help then.
The blood pounded in his ears as the pin broke and is kicked to the side.
He rolls, back hitting the dumpster as he groans.
Black spots danced across his vision as acknowledged the burn in his temples.
The new voice spoke.
“Ever since Techno here started hanging with Dream,” they spat out the word.
“The two have them have been getting closer and closer.
So much so, that Dream spends more time with Techno than his real friends.”
So this new person has a personal agenda with him and not his brothers.
Amazing.
Techno shuffles around uncomfortably and the voice laughs coldly.
“Yeah, I hope it fucking hurts.”
Suddenly the voice is less new and anonymous.
“.. Quackity ?” He rasps out.
“Damn right.” The voice— no, Quackity said.
Quackity , the boy who’d drop over food for Tommy and would get the strings for Wilbur’s guitar and had helped Techno and Sally pick out Techno’s hair colour.
That same Quackity grabbed that same pink hair and forced Techno to look at him.
Techno’s head pounds.
Quackity is talking. He’s talking about how long he’s wanted to do this and how he’d convinced Jared. Going on and on and Techno is slowly caring less and less the more he drawls on.
Breath hitching as he tries his best to say and do what he needs to do, Quackity stops talking, finally, and raises an eyebrow, bending down so he’s eye to eye with Techno.
“Consider this an eye for an eye, Techno.”
And Techno’s arm shot up.
And Quackity cries and yells in pain.
As Techno lay on the ground, he watched Quackity stumble back.
His knuckles go white as he grips the knife, his hands slick with blood.
And as Quackity grasps his face desperately, Techno can only manage to force out five words through bloody teeth.
“An eye for an eye.”
Blood dripped steadily from under Quackity’s hand.
Where he clutched his eyed with fear and pain keeping him upright before he collapses.
The alley looks like a crime scene.
The walls have the splatter from Jared’s big head, the dumpster is dented in several places and Techno’s adrenaline slowly dying out.
He stands up ignoring the protest from his ribs and head and the remaining two run.
One yells something about Techno being a psycho. The other, him being a monster.
Techno didn’t care all that much.
As he stands there, trembling and aching, he hears a familiar ringtone from across the alley.
From inside the shop bag.
Techno limps over, slowly.
And pulled the phone out. In big writing plastered across the screen,
The word was fuzzy but Techno deciphered it.
‘Old Man ’
He remembered Phil laughing about the name and picked up the call.
“Mate, are you out?”
He could’ve cried hearing his Dad’s voice but he didn’t let himself.
“I need help, Dad.” He rasps.
Phil goes quiet.
“ What ?”
“Dad, I’m going to hang up now.”
“Techno, wait no-“
He hung up.
Slowly and hesitantly, he dials the emergency number.
“Hello, this is the emergency hotline, how can I help you?”
“Hi, I need an, uhm, ambulance.”
And he can’t remember the rest of the conversation.
Only that it was incredibly awkward.
And that he’d somehow not passed out before the ambulance eventually arrived.
When he woke up, he groaned very loud.
Three people were at his bedside in a second.
“Techno are you alright?!”
“What happened?!”
“Are you ok??”
All crashed against each other and Techno winced and they immediately went quiet.
Techno would groggily explain himself slightly before a nurse walks in.
“Are you the Crafts?”
They nod.
“We found footage from a nearby surveillance camera. The boys all lived and your attack was put as self-defence.
Would you like the video?”
Before Phil could answer, Techno nodded and the video was brought to them.
And if Techno winced every time he got thrown or screamed, nobody pointed it out.
And if all the Crafts except him were crying by the end, nobody pointed it out.
Most of the boys had required surgery or treatment. Quackity was diagnosed as legally blind in his right eye.
Techno had four broken ribs, a shattered arm, a concussion, a broken nose and minor injuries.
He wondered if it was worth the Jolly Ranchers, Sour Patch Kids and Coke Zero.
He settled on that being a yes because when he went back to school, ignoring Phil’s mother-henning and refusal, he heard them whisper about the Blood God.
The only glances he got were fear or admiration and nobody even bumped into any of the Crafts.
Dream showed him a picture that quickly went viral.
Techno standing in the mouth of an alley with a knife in one hand and a phone to his ear.
Dripping with blood and surrounded by bodies with a straight face and a plastic bag by his feet.