DISCONTINUED | It's Simple Right? | Techno x OC | B x B

One

Written in Techno's POV [first person experiment]

   I find it hard to concentrate on many things. My mind is filled with blood and chaos but my body is empty. My body has organs while my mind has thoughts, voices. They scream, they cry, they whisper. Mainly, they narrate. You get used to them. They become your friends. But today they were curious and restless. Why are we still here? - Come on let's go do something. - This place is a mess. - Get out. - Leave. - I need out. - Let us outside. - I want vengeance. - We want blood-

Knock, Knock

   My eyes snapped open, dashing towards the door. "Techno? I've just finished farming, I need your help bringing in the potatoes," a voice called. I got up. "Coming, Phil. Give me a moment," I replied. I quickly walked up to the wall where my cape was. I grabbed the top and pulled it off the hook before putting it atop my shoulders. It flowed gracefully around me. I looked in a mirror. I had on a lily white, long sleeved sweater and dusty brown, slightly baggy pants. I sat down, putting my large boots on. I heard Phil muttering behind the door about how I was taking too long. I stepped to the door quickly, deciding not to take my crown, and opened it. Phil stood there waiting. He had a green sweater on with black jeans. His hat sat on his head at an angle and his hair could be seen under. His wings were folded behind him keeping warm in the snow. "Do you really need all the excess clothing?" He asked. I glanced at him. "It keeps me warm," I replied simply. Phil rolled his eyes, walking down the steps. I followed at a slightly slower pace.

   Phil walked steadily through the snow, as did I. My cape dragged through the fresh snow, leaving a trail along with out feet. "I have an extra bag here, you can put the potatoes in it," Phil said, reaching over his shoulder to hand me a clear, plastic bag. Food, the voiced said in unison. What? I replied to the voices as Phil and I walked on in silence. We want food. Bag, they replied. I pondered for a moment. Bag is not food. Potatoes are. The voices grew silent. Phil stopped ahead of me and I almost bumped into him. He turned to face me, "Come on, I picked the potatoes we've just got to gather them." I sighed, walking past him to the potatoes and bending to pick them up. The bag was big and fit most of the potatoes. As I gathered them, I thought I heard a twig snap behind me. I stiffened and, my mask rubbing against my face. I swiveled around and narrowed my eyes at the trees, scanning for any movement. There, next to a shriveled bush, I saw a hand. It sat on a tree trunk before quickly sliding behind it. I pulled out a bow, quickly drawing a weakness-tainted arrow and pointed it at the tree. I shot and it hit the tree directly. It smoked, the weakness potion coming out in fumes, filling that part of the air. Phil had gone inside after taking his load of crops, so I was "alone." After a second I slowly began to advance closer to the tree as the gas trailed away. I heard coughing very clearly. Then, a person shot out, trying very clearly to get away but had been drugged by the gas, and they were slow. I ran, catching them quickly. I knocked the intruder to the ground, resting a foot on their chest. I didn't recognize them. They had long, messy dark brown hair. They wore a baggy cloak that barely covered their under-clothes. Under the cloak was a short sleeved, white shirt and long gloves. They wore baggy, brown pants and black boots. Their face was dirty and they had a scared look in their eye. They had a bleeding cut on their forehead and it seemed like they were badly hurt and would've been slow in the first place. I cocked my head, narrowing my eyes. "Who are you?" I asked. The person shivered, screwing their eyes shut and looking away. They looked terrified. The voices grew louder, mainly talking if the stranger. "P-please don't h-hurt me.." the stranger mumbled pleadingly.

   From their voice I could tell he was a male, at least in his twenties. "I won't, as long as you don't hurt me. Or my friend," I replied, taking my foot away and lending out a hand. For a minute the man sat still, shaking, but eventually took my hand and I pulled him up. I stared at him. "Are you wanting to stay? Or traveling?" I asked. The man didn't seem to know how to answer. I sighed, pulling his arm and taking him inside. He gasped as I tugged him but couldn't exactly get away, due to the weakness and injuries he'd suffered. When I got inside Phil wasn't there. I placed my cape back on the stand and made the man sit on the sofa, giving him a blanket to accompany him. I placed the blanket on his legs and he accepted it. I walked into the kitchen, knowing he wouldn't leave because it was warm and the door was locked. I opened a cabinet and took out a tea packet. I chose the green tea and heated up some water on the stove. [I literally have never made tea before] I placed the tea packet in two mugs, mixing them and allowing the tea to soak in. I removed the packets, setting them aside and bringing the tea to the living room again. The man sat on the sofa, covered in the blanket. I handed him the tea and he sipped it gratefully. I sat in the chair next to the sofa. For a while we sat in silence next to the fireplace, just drinking tea and warming up.

   Eventually I got up, taking the blanket off the man and took his cup, setting it on the table beside mine. "Who are you?" I asked once again. The man replied this time, "My name is Atlas." I hummed, repeating his name is a monotone voice, "Atlas. Let me tend to your wounds." Atlas shivered but nodded, sitting up. I placed a hand on his head, beside a scratch. His skin was smooth, and felt soft beneath my hand. I could feel his breath shuddering. I turned towards a box by the couch, grabbing a few things. I used a wet cloth to clean the cut, and felt him wince beneath my fingers. I gently dried the water from his head and applied a sticky strip to the cut to keep it closed. "Is there any other wounds?" I asked. I removed my hands and Atlas opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. Atlas tried again, managing a "yes." "Point if you cannot talk," I stated. Atlas sighed, pointing to his back. I frowned. "Are you comfortable with your shirt off?" I asked gently. Atlas tensed, clenching his arms with his hands. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder, urging him to relax, and he did. Instead of responding he removed his shirt, showing a few bruises and a big burn on his back. I hummed in concern. I got up, quickly walking to the kitchen and grabbing the burn cream.

   I sat back down, opening the lid and using my hand to take some out. I set the cream down before pressing my fingers to his back, lightly rubbing in the cream. Atlas seemed to relax more and sighed in relief at the cold cream on his burn. I finished rubbing it on. "I need to keep you from touching it so you'll need to keep your shirt off and lie on your stomach," I explained. Atlas nodded nervously and I got up, leaving room for him to lie on the sofa, his back exposed. I quickly handed him a pillow. I turned my head to the fireplace, noticing the fire had died down a bit. I grabbed a spear, using it to move around the wood before adding some paper and dried leaves for it to burn. The fire grew bigger again. The voices were quiet but still talkative, so I hadn't much paid attention to them until one asked, This man, Atlas, where did he come from? I sighed, tuning the voices out. When I turned around, Atlas had fallen asleep, seemingly exhausted. I stepped to the door, having heard steps. I unlocked it to see Phil open the door. I placed a finger upon my lips, indicating to be quiet. I pointed to Atlas. "He was injured. I found him after you left," I explained quietly. Phil chuckled. "You have a kind heart, Techno." I snorted. "Sure I do," I replied sarcastically. Phil glared at me in the eye and I knew he meant what he said. Phil turned away, walking upstairs, his wings trailing gracefully behind him. I took off my mask, placing it beside my crown. I wandered into my room. It was pretty much empty besides a closet, bed, rug and desk.

   I looked into my mirror, my hair was in a messy bun. I released my hair from the bun and let it flow down. It reached a little below my shoulders. I used a small brush to calm it down. I set down the brush and flowed my fingers through my pink hair. It was pale pink. I entered my closet, changing into a gray turtleneck sweater and baggy, black sweatpants. I put on some plain white slippers. I walked back out to check on Atlas. He was still alseep. I left a note beside him, telling him where my room was and that I was in there. I also stated that Phil was in the house in another room and where it was, upstairs. Mine wasn't.

   I traveled back to my room, approaching my bed. My black cat, Dewey was asleep on my pillow [yes I gave him a cat, it's cute <33 ^-^] I chuckled, picking him up. Dewey woke, meowing a greeting and nuzzling his head against mine. I kept him in my arms, lying on my bed. He left my grasp, crawling beside me, lying on the blanket I was under and lied on my hand. Dewey purred, lulling himself to sleep. I smiled, releasing a soft sigh as my world turned dark and I fell right alseep.

...