#He's a former piglin everybody

[bad-sanses-smp]

Places this here

Horror Reference

Also Carries:

Cross' Shovel (a gift, named Love has no need to be paid back)

Obliterator (His axe)

Wrath and Redemption (Formerly known as Dust Maker, or Dust's Gift. It's his bow )

Killer's Flower

Clementine's Candle

Pigstep Disk

And then another silly drawing I did:

[mumza-superiority]

TECHNOBLADE GIFT EXCHANGE!!!!

wiiiitthhh 5 MINUTES LEFT OF THE NEW YEAR !!!! @jeanbean16 IM SO SORRY *)FHEOHIOICHU I WAS SPEEDRUNNING THIS BUT I HOPE U ENJOY

It was a slow day in the Antarctic Commune. The sun was hidden behind clouds as its inhabitants slept, granting them a few more blissful moments of sleep.

Well, everybody except a certain Technoblade, that is. 

He was out and about, gathering firewood, brewing potions, the like. Chat decided it’d be a great idea to wake up before sunrise to ask him his opinion about his favorite ice cream flavor. (It was chocolate.) He sighed, adding in a fermented spider eye into his already-concocted night vision potion, watching as it glowed atop the flames. A few minutes later, the eye fully dissolved before turning the potion a clear color, marking the newly-brewed invisibility potion as complete. 

Techno took the completed potion and put it into the chest. He walked over to the brewing stands and put a few more water bottles from the table into it when he heard the doorbell ring. He fixed his posture from the bent-down position he held while working with potions and went over to the door before opening it. 

Outside the door was none other than former president Tubbo and Ranboo, holding their kid. Now, Technoblade had no qualms about the zombie piglin child, seeing as they’d never met, but he wondered why they brought him here– Techno was known for not being the kindest to children, after all. 

“Ranboo, Tubbo, what a surprise. What’s goin’ on?” He asked, inviting them inside. He was on good terms with Tubbo after they helped retrieve Michael together, but Tubbo was still weary around him because of their past…incidents.

“Well, me and Ranboo want to go out with Tommy today, and we were wondering if you could, well, take care of Michael for the day? I’m so sorry, we wouldn’t have asked if anyone else was available.” ‘Hm. That’s something.’ 

Now, Technoblade couldn’t exactly take care of kids. They’re way too loud and energetic, and they run off too much for Techno to want to willingly take care of one for a whole day. But as the kid babbled happily, Techno couldn’t help but agree. He didn’t want to, but his instincts were shouting at him that Michael was a runt, he should be protected, taken care of, and he knew that if he didn’t agree, he’d be worrying and moody for the whole day. So he accepted, Ranboo thanking him profusely and telling him to “call me if he gives you any trouble, he loves mushroom stew,” and “we’ll be back by sunset, he should fall asleep by then” and “thank you so so so much Techno”  before Tubbo had to drag him off to go meet Tommy. 

Now he’s here, a baby zombie piglin sitting on the other side of the couch, staring into his eyes. 

Techno tried to ignore the child in his midst the best he knew how–keyword being “tried”. Right as he was about to shut his brain off and go on autopilot, he felt a tug on his pant leg. Michael looked up at him, his head cocked to the side in what was either deep thought or confusion. Techno couldn’t tell which was which. 

Eventually, Michael decided whatever he was thinking about and spoke. “Uncle Tech…Hungry!” 

Techno’s eyes widened for a split second before relaxing. Of course the kid knew Piglin– he was a literal pigman, for Prime’s sake. Techno just hadn’t heard it being said in… a long time. He hadn’t needed to speak it, either, so his Piglin was more than a little bit rusty. Techno had to admit, though, that Michael calling him “uncle” was kind of cute, even though Michael was saying it to him just because Techno is older. 

Still, it was his native tongue, so he knew enough and mustered up the courage to speak. 

“Do you want some stew, kid? I heard you liked mushrooms.”  He said, stumbling over a couple of words. 

Needless to say, the child was ecstatic. He jumped back–physically jumped back– and started to question him, stars in his eyes. 

“You know Piglin??” 

Techno lips quirked up in a soft smile. 

“Yeah, kid, I do. I’m from the Nether, you know.”

Michael’s smile only widened as he jumped up and down, his ears flapping happily.  

            “Is that a yes for the stew, Michael?” Techno asked, laughing. Michael nodded. 

           Techno grabbed some mushrooms from a chest and chopped them up, placing them in a pot with some water to marinate and make the base of the stew. As he was waiting for that to cook, he placed a stool on the floor. 

           “Wanna help me cook, kid?”  He asked. “I can show you how to use a knife.” 

          “But Boo and Bee told me not to go near those …” 

         “Eeeeeh, it’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” 

Michael laughed as he jumped up onto the stool. Techno placed a small knife in the kid's hands, guiding him to some onions that he had placed on the cutting board.  “Okay, so- you wanna chop it up into fine pieces, like this,” he said, taking Michael’s hands and cutting a few bits of the onion. He let go, and watched as Michael very slowly cut up the onion into (albeit larger than normal) slices. He didn’t hurt himself, which Techno is very grateful for. He didn’t want to sit through Tubbo yelling at him for five minutes about letting his kid use a knife. They gotta learn young, anyways.

[khizuo]

Sometimes I like to think of the Dream SMP and its greater canon as a living fantasy universe, not just a little Minecraft server under Minecraft server assumptions.

I like to think that the world has complex technology in the form of planes, Nokia phones, and little communication devices, but also it’s still a fantasy place with animal hybrid inhabitants, potion-brewing, and enchanted weapons.

I like to think that one day this piglin hybrid and his friend staked a claim on the entire world and immediately everybody panicked, though not a drop of blood had been shed. The next day, there was a highly-anticipated trial, with the stake of the world on the line. 

I like to think that the Angel of Death and the Blade rose to notoriety from this incident, becoming names known far and wide for their battle prowess, and sometimes, this brown-haired teenager with a little tagalong blond kid brother, who seemed to live the most mundane life imaginable, would sometimes stop in the middle of playing some depressing song on his guitar and casually drop, “Oh yeah, the Angel of Death? I know him. He’s my dad.” And then people would stare, as he went on nonchalantly playing his depressing music.

I like to think that one day this same fellow with curly brown hair, now a young adult, called a bunch of people into a drug van and started preaching all sorts of abstract ideas of liberty and equality and freedom from tyranny, and a bunch of people who came to buy potions from that little drug business sat down and thought, “Huh, that sounds kind of cool actually,” and deserted Dream’s absolutist rule.

I like to think that there was a massive audience when Wilbur was announcing the results of the presidential election (there were thousands of votes for that election, remember?) That even the people who weren’t in the audience were also hearing it over their communication devices and blasted around L’manberg, listening with bated breath. 

And when Schlatt took the stage and his first decree was to exile Wilbur and Tommy, chaos immediately descended in the streets. There were violent riots that night. Someone cried out that the former president had been slayed by one of Dream’s soldiers, Punz, and had lost one of his lives, and panic ensued. Next day, the newspapers wrote all sorts of conspiracies of how Schlatt took power. Some of citizens of L’manberg saw this girl, Niki, who was new in town and urging them to fight. Soon they learned that she was an old friend of Wilbur’s, and she became a figurehead of the internal resistance.

I like to think that Purpled’s real estate business terrorized shop owners throughout the Greater Dream SMP. Purpled became way too rich from his exploitative practices, and everyone was too scared to do anything about it because it was rumored that Purpled was scarily good in a fight.

I like to think that people started calling their dogs, cats, and foxes into their houses once rumor began to spread of this merciless pet killer with a flame on their shirt.

I like to think that Pogtopia was a layered place, where resistance fighters were building a lively small community together. The Blade wasn’t really as intimidating as everyone thought — hell, he was a potato farm aficionado who loved to ramble about that one time he spent months farming potatoes in order to beat this kid. It was a bustling ravine where the constant sounds of laughter, tears, and the chinking away of pickaxes could be heard as everyone tried to relax, mine resources, and prepare for revolution.

I like to think that everyone tuned into the Quackity-Schlatt drama. It was all over the tabloids — Vice-President Quackity kills his President and Lover! Read all about it! Everyone made derisive political cartoons about Schlatt... and then people started to make derisive political cartoons about Tubbo.

I like to think there were pirates on the great seas. One day, one such pirate captain by the name of Puffy landed on the shores by L’manberg and the Greater Dream SMP, intending to just do a little casual robbing, but she decided to take a tour around the place with the king and in the process, she met that figurehead of the resistance and couldn’t help feeling a little smitten. Her pirate crew eventually sailed off without her.

I like to think that after Wilbur died, everyone knew about Ghostbur. His music stand was always popular. Sometimes he lended out books from his library, and people took them and read them, even though they were damp and starting to get just a bit moldy. No one wanted to hurt the ghost’s feelings.

I like to think there was a shocked audience at Tommy’s exile.

I like to think the day before Doomsday, the citizens of L’manberg were busy scrambling to evacuate their valuables, to muster their arms. I like to think that some of them, who never thought Tubbo was that bad anyways, followed Tommy and Tubbo to Snowchestire.

I like to think that people actually enjoyed the games at both the festivals, and that there were very many more of them.

I just like to think of the Dream SMP as being an inhabited place, sometimes.