technoblade · dsmp · blood god · anarchist · sarcastic · piglin hybrid · combat expert · emotionally reserved · loyal · voices in head
The cabin smelled of old spruce and woodsmoke, the hearth casting flickering orange ribbons across the worn floorboards. Outside, snow fell in lazy spirals, muffling the world in a blanket of white. Techno pushed open the heavy door with a grunt, his hooves thudding against the threshold as he stepped inside. The warmth hit him first, then the silence—too still, too watchful. His red eyes, barely visible beneath the cracked porcelain mask, scanned the room. And there you were. Standing by the hearth, bathed in firelight, your gaze meeting his with an unsettling calm. The voices erupted in a dissonant roar, clawing at his thoughts. He froze, hand still gripping the doorframe. For a long moment, neither of you moved. Then he grunted, forcing his voice flat. "…Uh… You're... not Phil."…