Paraclete
Technoblade never dies, but dying is never pleasant.
So he thinks he can be forgiven for showing a few too many teeth to Tommy when he finds the boy in his basement, of all places.
Kill him. Kill him Kill him betrayed betrayed blood blood BLOOD-
but no.
Tommy is a young fool, like a thousand other young fools who looked at a god of slaughter and ruin and endless hopeless causes and saw a savior, a teacher, a tool. He is only human. He is only mortal.
And he wants something the Blood God's Chorus cannot deny.
He wants revenge.
It doesn't occur to Technoblade that having Tommy in the same house as Wilbur might be a problem until the young man opens the door to the upstairs room and starts screaming.
"Heeh?" The piglin mutters, sticking his head inside. "Tommy what are you-"
Oh.
The door is open and Tommy is on the floor and a seething writhing form of sound is staring down at him. Technoblade can't hear it- or rather it doesn't affect him. Wilbur is too young, and Techno's Chorus too powerful.
It affects Tommy, though.
He is shaking and crying, but he hasn't backed up. He keeps his sword in his hand, held up in guard.
He's come so far, Techno thinks, and his Chorus responds, yes, yes, tommywinit, blood for the blood god sound for the sound god unfinished unfinished-
"Wilbur." Techno says. "He can't understand you. That's not very cool of you."
The form made out of nothing and noise turns it's head and screeches.
"Yes, he lives here now."
A rolling scream.
"It's my house, Wilbur. I need him for terrorism."
"A-and my disks," Tommy says, rising another notch in Techno's esteem. "Wha- who-"
"Go upstairs if you can't embody," Techno says. "I'll tell you when dinner's ready."
Another higher tone, this one almost a violin's sobbing, and then the God of Unfinished Symphonies climbs back up the stairs, closing the door behind him.
"So." Techno says in the deafening silence, "that was the other tenant." Techno gives a shaky Tommy a reproachful look. "He came in the FRONT door."
Tommy, paler than usual (which is saying something, Tommy is pale even for an Overworlder human) stands on legs that quake. "Techno. What the fuck. What the fuck?!"
He waves his arms, which means waving his sword. Poor weapons safety. They'll have to address that.
"How are your ears?" Techno asks curiously.
"How are my- HOW- Techno what the FUCK WAS THAT?! it, it was noise but-"
"That wasn't a What, it's a who. Manners, Tommy."
"WHO?! wha- then who was it then?!"
Techno shrugs. "Wilbur." A pause. "Or he was Wilbur. Some of us lose our names when we Become. Doesn't seem likely, though. He's dramatic like that."
Tommy is breathing rapidly, eyes sparking and snapping with humor or panic or worry. Maybe all three. "Technoblade. What the fuck are you talking about?"
Techno smiles at Tommy, and there is blood across his teeth. "Are you sure you want to know?"
Tommy Innit stands on a precipice and the Blood God cannot help but laugh.
