rusted-blade

[rusted-blade]

bet it feels weird being in the overworld huh?

it whined under its breath, careful, still. "shut up, chat," it murmured, keeping its head still and forward. "i do not even know what you are talking about."

the world was still wrong- too bright, too soft, too ... wet, damp, with foreign textures, but it was starting to get used to it.

[rusted-blade]

The deer nods, and holds out a hoof to either shake or help him up, whatever the piglin ends up deciding to do. He wonders at his condition, questioning what the netherborn had gone through before showing up in the overworld.

In his other hand, he pulls out a cloak, that had been lined with his own white neck fluff trimmings. The overworld is much, much colder than the nether, and the piglin was probably freezing.

it shivered. it could not be cold. it should not be cold. it stiffened its hands, its arms, resisting every urge to draw itself closer, to huddle for warmth.

it drew a stuttering, shaken breath, and takes the figure's hoof. it is much warmer, yet harder, than its own. with trembling legs, it stands.

it wobbles, nearly falling over again. it is weakweakweak but for the kind stranger it can be strong. it can be useful. and it can be good.

A return?

Callahan stumbles on their way back from the void. They land on all fours, struggling to catch a breath.

Something feels wrong. They are not in charge here like they were. Not quite. Something faintly cries out to them in their mind, but it’s not easy to make out.

Is it because of their interfering? Is it because-

No. Something’s off with the world. Maybe things will be fixed after a bit.

They stand, swaying. Their hood has fallen, but the fluff around their neck has dimmed slightly. Still enough to blind if not careful.

They look up- and see a piglin. One that looks… only vaguely familiar.

They give a wave.

@rusted-blade

[rusted-blade]

if you saw that you didn't

[rusted-blade]

it shudders with relief that it shouldn't be feeling. they did not reject it because it wasn't worthy, because it has become weak and useless, but because they want something else in trade. something it slowly realizes that (homehomesoundersafebastiontakentakenfearblooddeathscreamsfireruin) it has difficulty remembering.

it has not spoken its language in years. it picked up a few of the sounds from the overworlders, the Spawn, struggled to mimic them on its own, but its throat is out of use. it is out of practice. yet another thing that it cannot do.

it attempts to croak out a few grunts anyway, and to its surprise it successfully says - "trade?"

it points down to the healing and gestures to its lack of cuffs. "fix for know - ing?"

A return?

Callahan stumbles on their way back from the void. They land on all fours, struggling to catch a breath.

Something feels wrong. They are not in charge here like they were. Not quite. Something faintly cries out to them in their mind, but it’s not easy to make out.

Is it because of their interfering? Is it because-

No. Something’s off with the world. Maybe things will be fixed after a bit.

They stand, swaying. Their hood has fallen, but the fluff around their neck has dimmed slightly. Still enough to blind if not careful.

They look up- and see a piglin. One that looks… only vaguely familiar.

They give a wave.

@rusted-blade

[rusted-blade]

it blinked as the metal fell from its wrists. they were light now, blood (redbloodsmellrustdirtbloodbloodwoundhurtkillstabblood) that was trapped underneath them now rising to the surface of its skin. it didn't understand. did they reject its trade? did they not want it? it is a fighter, and it is obedient- it listens to orders well. it is not useless. it is worth something, anything, please-

Eat. Heal. it picks up the golden object and brings it back to its mouth, gently placing it in and taking a bite. it crunches wonderfully under its teeth, and it is wet, it is juicy, it is delicious- it feels energy slowly being restored to it. the wounds from the cuffs fade as they are healed, and it stares in awe. gold heals. golden object is healing. it must save this, them, for when it needs it, for when the pain is almost too much to bear.

the Being has healed it. they have rejected its trade. is this kindness? is it pity? it is useful, and can be of use to them. how can it show them so?

it kneels down again, tucking its knees to its chest and flattening itself against the ground. it is so confused. it wraps its arms around its chest. it cannot owe this being a debt. it cannot owe more debts. but it has nothing to trade. it catches itself whining, and cuts itself off. it is so confused.

A return?

Callahan stumbles on their way back from the void. They land on all fours, struggling to catch a breath.

Something feels wrong. They are not in charge here like they were. Not quite. Something faintly cries out to them in their mind, but it’s not easy to make out.

Is it because of their interfering? Is it because-

No. Something’s off with the world. Maybe things will be fixed after a bit.

They stand, swaying. Their hood has fallen, but the fluff around their neck has dimmed slightly. Still enough to blind if not careful.

They look up- and see a piglin. One that looks… only vaguely familiar.

They give a wave.

@rusted-blade

[rusted-blade]

it startles as the Being holds out (GOLDGOLDshinypreciousbeautifulperfecttaketaletradetradegoldgoldgold) an ingot, a beautiful ingot of gold, and a strange circle of it. its hands shake as it takes both, carefully weighing the ingot, finding it solid and heavy. its eyes dart up to them, finding it showing no aggression, and it gently touches the gold to its lips. perfect, pure gold.

the sphere-like thing it is holding is not just gold- it is not heavy enough, not as shiny as the gold it is holding in its other hand, and something about it feels - off. it touches this to its lips too, and finds it to be a gold coating over something else. something that smells sweet, delicious, and makes its mouth water as it holds it.

(tradetradetradeGIVETHEMSOMETHINGyoumustTRADEFORGOLDtradeforgoodsGoldgoldgoldgold)

it stares down at itself. the metal is still tying its hands together, the cuffs around its hooves. it remembers the blood it has spilt. gently, carefully (DONOTDOTHATholdthegoldpreciousallwehavepleasekeepitkeepKEEPIT) it places the gold onto the ground, and holds its hands up above its head, bowing it as it does so. it shakily closes its eyes. if the Being does not accept this trade, then it - they will. they must.

A return?

Callahan stumbles on their way back from the void. They land on all fours, struggling to catch a breath.

Something feels wrong. They are not in charge here like they were. Not quite. Something faintly cries out to them in their mind, but it’s not easy to make out.

Is it because of their interfering? Is it because-

No. Something’s off with the world. Maybe things will be fixed after a bit.

They stand, swaying. Their hood has fallen, but the fluff around their neck has dimmed slightly. Still enough to blind if not careful.

They look up- and see a piglin. One that looks… only vaguely familiar.

They give a wave.

@rusted-blade

[rusted-blade]

it stumbles. its legs are shaky beneath it, hooves trembling as it steps forward, trying to make its way to - where, it wasn't sure, but somewhere. away from the strange soft ground it awoke on.

it walks, and walks, and falls face first on the ground, tripping over something small, insignificant. it shutters in a deep breath, flinching instinctually, before carefully opening its eyes. before it are two hooves.

it stares up at the being in front of it. something shimmers around them, something powerful, strong. it feels natural to kneel at their feet (getupgetupweakpositionshowrespecttheyshowmercybekindandsurvive). they are making a strange motion with their arms. it follows them with its eyes, watching for any sudden moveme(attackattacktheyregoingtoattackyoukillyou)nts.

A return?

Callahan stumbles on their way back from the void. They land on all fours, struggling to catch a breath.

Something feels wrong. They are not in charge here like they were. Not quite. Something faintly cries out to them in their mind, but it’s not easy to make out.

Is it because of their interfering? Is it because-

No. Something’s off with the world. Maybe things will be fixed after a bit.

They stand, swaying. Their hood has fallen, but the fluff around their neck has dimmed slightly. Still enough to blind if not careful.

They look up- and see a piglin. One that looks… only vaguely familiar.

They give a wave.

@rusted-blade

[rusted-blade]

it blinks. once, twice. rubs its eyes, in an attempt to clear the cloudiness from its vision. the world is a lot brighter than it's used to. than it remembers.

it glares up at the ceiling - at the ceiling? there's something it recognizes, from the brief times it has been outside its cell, outside the pit - something shining, large and bright above it. the ceiling is a shade it doesn't know. it never knew there were more colors than gold (soshinyperfectpretty), black (homehomesafeprotect) and red (redredredREDredthecolorofbloodbloodbloodforthebloodgodkillwoundsspillBLOOD).

it lifts its hoof up to block the blinding light. the ground around it is another new shade, something peculiar. it is soft. it is wet, with something akin to what they washed it down with, whenever it got too covered in dirt and (bloodbloodstainsstabkill) - that's enough of that.

it puts its hoof down on the ground, and pushes up against the strange earth underneath it. it stands, shakily, staring at the metal cuffs still locked around its wrists. they are lighter than it remembers. it feels lighter than it has in years.

[rusted-blade]

as a general warning, anything on this blog tagged with arc; obsidian deals heavily with depersonalization, objectification, trauma, murder, torture, and many other very heavy topics. these will be handled with utmost care and respect. if you think something could be treated better, please reach out to me to remedy that. i am always open to constructive criticism.

thank you.

[rusted-blade]

from the pit to the skies, i will

come home to you.

main blog || mcyt sideblog || c!tommy || redza || c!niki || fundy || o!techno || skeppy

headcanon!technoblade ask and rp blog! this is not a kin or introject blog. this is just for fun! this blog is part of the resetverse, but will not solely interact within it! character is an adult, and so is the mun! techno uses he/him (and maybe some neopronouns) and mun uses they/them. icon art by metrixnos!

at times heavy themes will be discussed. those themes may include torture, death, child harm, and manipulation. these will all be tagged- see the taglist below.

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anon list!

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