𝕰𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 - (Technoblade)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕

She became somewhat of a trend for Technoblade to talk about. Their letters together, it turned out: she did write back. Her handwriting was smooth, though sometimes hard to read, the curves and quick flicks in her letters made her work look like a secret language.

The stories they shared were of such detail, pages and pages, they would send, talking about political matters, polite backs and forths, no question was left unanswered by the girl. It was like an entirely new person, she'd never act out of line. There were no quick comments to make through the paper, though there was snark. Technoblade could imagine her voice, hushed and strong, though clearly a woman's voice, deep and almost brooding. If delivered right, almost seductive. She was truly an enigma to the man, perplexing with her attitude and personality. She'd answer questions to a minimum, avoiding definitive answers with such a tact, it was like an art form. As memorable as a coronation, she'd tell stories on a whim sometimes, never disclosing names, but Technoblade could tell who they were from time to time, just knowing that was how she would write about them. There was something lyrical about the way she approached things, she'd say a lot, but never enough.

They became Technoblade's game changer, hearing her unimpressed tone through the parchment and plume.

"Sorry for not writing, I was conquering a kingdom in the far north." He would brag onto the paper, already anticipating her response.

"I figured as such: we heard the news and kept our distance." She'd respond and continue. Having conversation with her was like talking at her sometimes, she'd only answer questions, never asked.

Technoblade remembered her first letter back, the second he had returned to his castle, he left the boys to run rampant, and he closed himself into his own study, where he wrote a letter and sent it off. Her response was just like how he'd imagine it. It was almost a talent for her to be that predictable at times.

"Dear Technoblade,
You truly wrote. That was soon, I was surprised when the falcon shot into my room. A falcon as well, isn't that quite harsh? Though I will say, she's a pretty little thing, and she doesn't kill my doves, so I can let her stay. Your handwriting is nice, I should add, but I digress. Didn't you check on your brother's Olympics? Or have you forgotten he was competing for you?

But thank you for writing back, it gives me something to kill time with when I have nothing to do.

The thing I was so happy about, I don't think it concerns you, but I simply threw something and it hit what I wanted it to. I didn't think I could; but that's just me getting excited.

I suppose I'll miss you too, Technoblade, consider this letter a promise to keep contact. You entertain me after all.

Yours faithfully,
Venus.

P.S - I did eat, thank you for your concern." Technoblade read out the letter before putting it back into his little chest of her letters. He liked keeping documents of personal letters he received: it wasn't often he got them. Sometimes she would lose the cold act and ask him questions. Some of her more prominent ones were what colour fabric she should use, and what sort of swords appealed to him. He wasn't sure why she'd ask him, but they were cute little quirks to her letters. Once she asked what dish she should have, out of pure boredom. Though the letters usually had four day intervals, he still responded with light humour.

She was quirky. Not different from others, but just odd. Everyone was odd in their own right, but Venus didn't have a consistent personality. When Technoblade mentioned that to Phil, he said it was because she was forcing herself to hate him and be cold.

"I highly doubt she'd force herself. She seems above that." Technoblade rebutted.

"I highly doubt anyone would hate someone but still write for the next seven months." Philza replied and smiled wisely at the surprised man.