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The markings across Technoblade’s body go unnoticed for years. They’re of little consequence to his fellow Nether-born, less notable as an identifier when compared to his pale skin and smooth, snout-less face. Piglin enough not to attack on sight, but human enough that they limit interaction only to trades.
He got the memo, lived alone. Wandering from biome to biome to scrap together materials to collect gold, trading said gold, and killing the occasional stray hoglin for food. Rinse and repeat, unless some mob got mad and Techno would kill it. That was everyday for the piglin-hybrid.
Until Philza Minecraft found him.
“Looks like a blessing from the gods to me.”
There were fingers brushing along the muscles of his back, tracing over a shape Philza described yet Techno couldn’t see. There weren’t any mirrors big enough, not yet at least. The crow-hybrid promised to get one once he was more accustomed to the Over World, a nice outing.
“What makes you think that?”
He didn't turn around to face the other, continuing to sit perfectly still on the edge of the bed. His face propped up by the arm resting on his outstretched knee, back curved for Phil’s viewing.
It’s the fingers retreating that has Techno straighten up, subtly leaning back to chase them as they go. But by the time he fully turned around, his kind host was already in the next room over. He came back quickly though, a smile on his face with a notebook and pencil balanced together in one hand.
Technoblade watched Phil approach him again, flipping the cover back to reveal fresh pages of paper. He got a bit confused when the man crossed his blind spot to sit behind him. Techno eyed him with a passive, but attentive gaze, totally not worried at all.
‘Phil was good, Phil was nice’, he assured himself and the voices equally.
Although, Phil was making it really hard to advocate for ‘em when Techno felt a pressure on his back. Phil’s weight, accompanied by the notepad, pressing him forward with a disgruntled huff. Using him as a living table to scribble his weird human symbols onto paper. They’d need to add furniture in general to the shopping list, along with that mirror.
“It’s like this,” Phil said, lifting himself off the piglin-hybrid to show what he’d drawn. Handing it off for Techno to grasp and process on his own.
The page presented was almost fully taken up by what Techno assumed was a rendition of his back, the vaguely rectangular shape longer in width at the top than the bottom, meant to represent his shoulder sloping down to his waist. He’d been getting better at stuff like this, identifying meaning through abstract scribbles. But…the shapes apparently skewed around his back were new to him.
They seem like thick arrow tips, unnaturally rounded at the base and smooth instead of sharp as they reach the arrow’s point. If they looked exactly like arrows, Techno would be compelled to maybe agree with Phil, a blessing for strength or accuracy wouldn’t be too far-fetched. But, that’s really not the case here.
“I really don’t see the connection,” he pointed out, ready to hand the notebook back when he’s instead pulled in closer. Philza on his left once again leaning over, and on him, to point at the paper.
“They’re perfect hearts, mate. All over you! The little ones here,” his fingers marked a line from shoulder to shoulder, following the arrows down the drawing. “And, not to mention, the huge one across your lower back!”
“Bruh— Those don’t even look like hearts.”
“What do you mean they aren’t- “ Phil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I forget sometimes. Piglin thing right?”
At the Nether-borns nod he eased off him, pulling himself from the bed to stand before Techno. Grabbing the notebook and pencil from his hands to scribble on a new page. This time balancing the booklet in his hands, opposed to using the piglin-hybrid.
Phil had his tongue peaking out the corner of his mouth as he drew, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When he finally finished, presenting the drawing with a satisfied look- Technoblade understood why. On the left side of the page was a pretty decent rendition of what Techno considered to be a heart, the chambers of muscles marked out with veins running up them, here and there. It was even partially shaded with crisscrossing hatch marks along the edges.
“Nice drawing,” he drawled and meant it. Even if his monotone voice didn’t exactly signify it.
He hoped his body language did, ears perked and mouth slightly softer than the usual scowl he wore. Though that’s mostly just a by-product of his overgrown tusks, the trees here weren’t as tough as their crimson and warped varieties. Phil said there were better options either way, add that to the growing shopping list.
“Aww, thanks mate.”
Phil smiled, and Techno internally preened at the accomplishment. It felt good repaying his... friend , for his kindness and what not. He’d really moved up in the world as of late; from a total loner to having exactly one friend who hadn’t tried to kill him. The hoglins didn’t count.
“So you agree this is a heart, yeah? Well, here in the Over World we simplify it like this.” Again he flipped to the page of his birthmarks, looking expectantly at Techno to connect the dots.
“Okay.” Techo said simply. He could kind of see a resemblance, guess ‘fat oval’ was already taken for eggs so they had to improvise.
“ Okay…? ” Phil gently prodded.
“Ya,” he reaffirmed. Thoughts already drifting to the delicious fluffy yolks Phil had poured over a mix of potatoes and herbs for breakfast. Why would humans think to limit that only to the mornings? Techno could eat that all day, every week and never grow tired.
“...I’m saying you’re probably, like, I don’t know- Loved by the gods or something? Have a grand destiny ahead of you?”
He snorted at the thought, “If the gods really loved me they’d let me eat eggs for every meal. Not just breakfast.”
“But...you can?” Phil said, confusion evident in his voice, “We have a farm, you’re free to make yourself some scramble whenever.”
“Phil.“
“Yes, Technoblade?”
“Phil. You- you’re the only god I care to be loved by, you’ve just made my whole week.”