For the prompts: Multiple whumpees, Non-consensual body modifications, Branding and Removing body parts.
Tango has never known a hybrid trafficking ring to be this organized.
Scratch that. Tango has never known a hybrid trafficking ring, period. He's heard about them, but every hybrid probably has at some point. Tales of warning, rumors that spread like wildfire, stuff like that. Something he hasn't had to worry about since he was a little kid.
Those are still wildly different from personal experience, something Tango is quickly gaining a lot of no matter how badly he wishes he wasn't.
After entering the not-bastion (and definitely not the Deepfrost Citadel. This place has fires at every corner, and it's toasty warm. Thankfully, maybe the traffickers realized they wouldn't be able to make any profit if all of their merchandise turned into popsicles before they got sold!) they are led through winding hallways and locked doors. At one point, Tango realizes there are now fewer traffickers around them and they're no longer outnumbered. But he realizes in the same breath that it doesn't matter. The building at large definitely still contains more armed humans than it does hybrids. Even if it didn't, overpowering the people who captured them would be pointless now without a proper escape route and a plan. Neither of which Tango has or is any closer to coming up with.
Their group gets split into clusters of five. For a brief moment, Tango worries they'll be sorted by species or something dehumanizing like that. Not only insulting, it would also put him at an odd disadvantage since he's pretty sure he's the only blaze around. At least the only one he's seen so far. It's mostly piglins, hoglins, a ghast or two.
But it seems they're simply being split up by who is standing close together in the moment, so they can be filed into separate rooms. Tango sticks close to Techno's side deliberately, firmly of the opinion that it's probably his best bet for getting out of here. The Hermits might be able to figure something out from the outside to get them free. But not dying until they do is the strat.
"Against the wall," a gruff voice commands. The man lightly shoves against Tango's shoulder when he doesn't react quickly enough for their tastes. Rude.
He goes to stand against the wall, tail curled around his leg anxiously.
Another human enters. They're wearing a long lab coat that stupidly reminds him of Cub. Though this guy's seems more stained with blood than Cub's usually is - most of the time, that is. It doesn't make them look very inviting.
"You." The doctor points at the first hybrid in line. Some piglin hybrid Tango hasn't heard a peep from so far. "Come here."
The piglin meekly obeys. They seem to be on the older side, with gray hairs very visible in their pink locks. Tango watches with some apprehension as the other hybrid is prodded at, inspected for some unnamable thing. He glances at Techno once, but the other is staring at the wall almost impassively.
After a few minutes, the doctor is satisfied and gestures for one of the traffickers to come forward. The man is holding a long rod of metal and a cloth pouch. They turn the pouch over, pouring the dark dust inside into a porcelain bowl on the table. Tango thinks it's ash at first. He realizes how wrong he is when the man uses flint and steel to set the soul sand ablaze.
Blue light dances across the room and the piglin standing nearest makes a high squealing noise, trying to back away. The hybrid trafficker grabs their arm to keep them still. The fear of soul fire is instinctual for them. Not that Tango is too fond of it either. The effect of soul fire on most Nether creatures is about the same as regular fire for a human.
He watches in horror as the two humans hike the piglin's shirt sleeve up and brand him. The piglin screams during it, and Tango closes his eyes, though that doesn't stop the scent of scorched skin from invading his nostrils.
Oh that's… hm, yeah, no, Tango doesn't like that one bit.
They attach a collar around the piglin's neck and send them from the room. The doctor wipes their hands on a filthy cloth that really doesn't seem like it'd do much for hygiene. Maybe it's a performative gesture, or maybe they're just an idiot. Then the man points at the next person in line. "Come here."
There is a very brief moment of hesitation where Tango thinks that Techno is about to do something - he's not sure what. He just thinks Techno looks like the sort of guy who does things. And this situation is screwed up and upsetting and probably warrants doing a thing or two, so Tango can't disagree that doing something would be good even if it's useless. But then Techno sighs, almost imperceptible under his breath. As if resigning that, for the moment, they're stuck with the cards they've been dealt. And it's better to play along.
He walks forward, left leg still dragging a little. Tango noticed that a lot of blood had soaked into the cloth around the ankle and the doctor notices too, looking a bit annoyed at that.
"You damaged this one?" they ask.
"He wasn't very cooperative," the trafficker answers.
"Depends on your definition of 'cooperative'," Techno says. The man glares at him.
"Whatever," the doctor mumbles, reaching up to grab Techno's tusks. Techno flinches away, raising his own hand to push them off, but the trafficker grabs his wrist and yanks his arm down. "We might need to get rid of these until he learns how to behave then."
"I doubt my dental insurance covers that," Techno says.
Tango almost laughs, but it's better for him to stay quiet.
"Hand me the pliers." The doctor holds out their hand.
Wait, they're serious.
Techno tries to say something, fingers pry into his mouth before he can. The doctor uses the pliers to get a firm grip on one tusk, and wiggle it around for a bit. Techno grunts because of the discomfort. Some part of Tango expects him to fight back more. But there's no point to that, is there? What would it accomplish aside from these guys knocking them out and doing whatever they want anyway?
So Tango tries not to cringe too hard at the sound of wrenching, an unpleasant crack that makes him shiver as one tusk is pulled free. Blood runs down Techno's chin, dripping onto his chest. The other tusk is quick to follow.
"Should we dock his tail?" the trafficker asks with sadistic glee, clearly hoping for an affirmative answer.
But the doctor shakes their head. "Not unless the seller asks for it. You already messed him up enough." They tap the side of Techno's head, where the wound on his temple sits. Techno hisses a bit. "Get that checked out before you brand him and send him in with the others."
Tango's eyes widen watching Techno get dragged away by one of the other traffickers in the room. Well, so much for sticking together.
"You. You're next." The doctor nods at him.
Oh great…
Tango walks forward almost mechanically, as if it's not really him moving. Maybe he's dissociating? It happens to him sometimes, not quite the same as now but more like he's zoning out and going on autopilot. Usually, that happens when he's doing something fun, though. Or something that's tedious but easy. Redstone, building, collecting stuff. Not being inspected like a piece of meat by a person willing to sell him to the highest bidder.
"A blaze, hm? Interesting." The doctor prods his cheek and Tango scowls.
"Do you mind?" he asks.
"Not at all." The doctor smiles at him. "This one has fangs too. But we better keep them, could be an asset on the market."
He's forced to turn around. He can feel their eyes on his back, tracking the movement of his flame. He hopes they don't get any funny ideas about snipping it off, since he literally needs his tail to live! The doctor only clicks their tongue in approval though.
"Great find, this one. Do we have a brand for blaze hybrids yet?"
"We do." The trafficker pulls out a different iron rod from the many they have leaning into the soul fire flames. With his other hand, he grabs Tango's arms and pulls them forward. On one side the wrappings from Techno's belt have started to come loose, probably because he didn't tie them properly to begin with. That is where they press the metal down.
Tango recoils, every instinct inside his mind screaming to get away from the thing hurting him but unable to. The fire scorches into his skin, singing through nerve endings that are already on edge from how cold he was earlier. Barely a second, and then it's already being pulled away. They slap a bandage on it - more uncaring than anything, probably just to avoid infection - and then the collar is already closing around his throat.
All of that went way too fast for Tango to even grasp what was happening! What the hell!
He's dragged out of the room again, alone. Not for long though, as he's quickly shoved into a more proper cell. It's honestly very big for what would usually be considered a prison, but it has to be since it fits about eight people already inside. Tango looks around, but Techno is nowhere to be seen. Great. Back to square one.
The bars click shut behind him with a recognizable noise. Tango turns around and waits for the trafficker who locked him up to fully leave before he kneels down at the entrance to the cell.
Huh, who knew hybrid traffickers used redstone for their automatic doors? Something about that is almost funny.
Or maybe he's just miserable enough that anything starts being hilarious again, kinda like the whole kidnapping thing.
With a sigh, Tango rubs his hands over his face, and concentrates on the only thing about this entire situation he might have a shot at making sense of.
In terms of medical care, Techno is going to have to rate these guys a big fat zero for customer service. In terms of kidnapping etiquette too, honestly. He's had better kidnappings than this. Maybe he should apologize to Tubbo if he ever manages to get home.
The brand itches more than it hurts. Techno scratches at it through the bandage, which he knows is a bad idea but it beats scratching at the cracked skull. Not a hyperbole. Techno noticed bouts of nausea before they arrived at their ominous destination and those haven't passed. He'll probably be lucky if he can get through being clubbed twice with a minor concussion.
Despite all that he feels pretty calm.
Maybe it's his mind naturally trying to balance Chat, who is definitely up in arms about all this. Techno won't pretend he's happy with his current situation, but it's really his fault for thinking retirement was a good idea. He'll only consider himself a fool for thinking the next threat would come from within the server. Silly him.
He's flanked by two guards as they lead him through a hallway. He's been captured for all of a few hours and he already managed to get a reputation for himself. They know he's dangerous, but Techno also can't really escape while inside the hybrid trafficking headquarters. Very little chance he'll get anywhere near the exit before being recaptured or worse. They don't seem to be in short supply of piglin hybrids, so he better not make them think he's more trouble than the profit is worth. Techno doubts this place has a respawn anchor.
"Techno!"
When he's put into a cell, the guy Techno met earlier runs up to him. Tango? Techno's fairly sure that's his name.
"Man, am I glad to see a friendly face." Tango almost seems to approach him to come in for a hug, only to awkwardly lower his arms at the last moment to hold his own elbows instead. Techno doesn't remember a ton about the Hermit people, except that others keep talking about them. Builders, engineers, architects, creative folks. Some capable fighters among them too, but not the kind that go to war.
"You've not been making other friends?" Techno asks half-heartedly, looking around the cell. Everybody looks pretty despondent.
"Wouldn't have gone over well," Tangoo agrees, also glancing across the room. "I've been mapping out the redstone."
"Redstone?" Techno asks.
"Yeah, they got a pretty simple piston setup."
Techno blinks at him in non-comprehension. Apparently, Tango notices this as he offers an awkward chuckle.
"How can you not know basic redstone?" he accuses, though there is no heat behind it. Techno shrugs.
"Never saw much need for it."
"You've never built farms?" Tango wonders out loud, looking genuinely confused at that.
"Farms on Hypixel don't use redstone. Literally built different." Those are the superior form of farms as far as Techno is concerned, but that probably won't go over well with a guy who looks like he crawls through redstone networks for fun.
"Huh…" Tango says, then lets that linger. Techno suddenly feels a little judged for poor life decisions.
"I'll have you know I was the number one potato farmer for a long time," he says. "Maybe I still am, actually. I haven't gone back to check in a while."
"Uh huh." Tango crosses his arms and grins, nodding. "No, I'm sure. A wonderful farm."
Techno rolls his eyes benevolently. "Remind me to tell you the full story later. Let's see what you got first."
Tango walks over to the front of the cage, where they were pushed inside. The majority of the wall is made of stone blocks with obsidian veins, something not easily broken by hand. They were smart enough to do that much. But in the middle, a bunch of bars are set up.
"They have pressure plates installed at the door, so one guy just has to stand over there and the bars come down. This also means one of them always stays close to the door. It wouldn't surprise me if they got that rigged too, as a security measure. Kind of like an airlock." Tango crouches down, inspecting the floor. Techno does the same, though he can't really see anything unusual. The way Tango's tail starts wagging as he explains his findings is almost endearing. "Do you see this slit?" Tango points at something.
Techno has to squint to be able to see what he means, but there is the smallest crack that might be a little too straight to not be manmade. Techno wouldn't have noticed something like that. "Yeah?"
"I think they have some other redstone set up to make the entire wall come down. Like, not only the bars. I mean the brick and everything. But it's hard to tell unless I start cracking the floor open."
"Let's hold off on that for now," Techno says. They don't want to draw any dangerous attention to themselves. "Good to know, though. Might come in handy later."
"Maybe," Tango says, looking unsure about it himself.
Just as he says it, the door to the room does open. Almost exactly like Tango predicted, the first trafficker who enters steps over the threshold in a pretty deliberate fashion that feels obvious to Techno now that he knows what he's paying attention to. They're avoiding the pressure plates Tango mentioned.
The man walks up to the side of the bars, and his expression darkens when he sees the two of them. "Hey! What the fuck are you two doing over there! Get away from the bars."
"I-" Tango starts, stumbling over his words. Techno pushes him behind himself, standing up to block the trafficker's view.
"I was looking for the bell to ring room service."
The trafficker smirks. "If you have enough energy to be a pain in my ass, maybe you shouldn't eat tonight."
Techno shrugs, which only makes the man shake his head as he walks away again, towards the wall Techno can't see from where he's standing in the cell.
"Thanks for covering my ass," Tango says after a few seconds of silence, when they're sure the trafficker's attention isn't on them anymore.
"Hm," Techno turns towards him. "I don't think I'd be able to eat much anyway." His tongue drags along the places where his tusks used to be. They'll grow back. This isn't the first time Techno lost one. But that still doesn't make it very pleasant.
"Are you okay?" Tango asks suddenly. At Techno raising a questioning eyebrow, he wrings his hands. "You look like you're going to puke. No offense."
"I might have a concussion," Techno says simply. He walks over to the corner so he can sit down, since he's shaking.
"That's not good," Tango answers.
"I've been through worse."
"You keep saying that but I find it a little hard to believe." Tango plops down beside him, pulling his legs up to his chest.
Techno never considered how… sheltered people could be if they'd only been on private, building-focused servers.
"The potato war is a much more interesting story," he says.
"Right, right, the redstone-less farm. Let's hear it," Tango leans his cheek onto his knee.
And thus Techno does what he does best to distract them both from the walls around them.
"Are you sure you've checked all of them?"
Impulse frowns a little at the crackle that meets him through the communicator. He grips the plastic tighter, hard enough for the speaker to form a little indent in his palm.
"Couldn't be any surer," Skizz says eventually.
"Check again."
"Imp-"
"Check again," he repeats. "Please?"
"Yeah, okay. But tell me if you guys hear anything too."
As if on cue, the screen lights up. Impsule swipes his thumb over it, eyes scanning the words that come in rapid succession. The conversation is even harder to follow than the usual banter that happens when multiple people are feeling chatty at the same time.
"Nothing yet but Grian thinks he has some leads," Impulse says out loud, realizing Skizz is still on the other end of the line and might not be reading his messages.
"Fingers and toes crossed," Skizz says upbeat. The fake cheer falls a little flat, but Impulse appreciates the sentiment.
He hangs up, and shoves the communicator back in his pocket. Maybe he'll do another sweep too? It seems like a far shot, what with every other Hermit also searching the server top to bottom. Tango is nowhere to be found. And he pressed the emergency button on his own device before going missing.
But he didn't die. Xisuma checked the logs, saying something about faulty respawn anchors and maybe Tango's code had gotten lost somewhere. As scary as that is to consider, at least it'd be as simple as finding out where Tango did respawn and haul his ass back to the server.
What does it mean when somebody just… vanishes without a trace?
Rather than think about it, Impulse needs to keep himself busy. He sets out on another run through the shopping district.
Phil doesn't think it's completely unusual for Techno to take off somewhere without warning, but most of the time he would be answering his messages at least.
Now, it could be Techno just got distracted. He sometimes gets too absorbed in grinding, or he might have fallen asleep somewhere and started hibernating. Techno is a capable man and more than fit to take care of himself. He doesn't need Phil looking after him. Those sentiments are more built on mutual affection and trust than necessity for them.
Phil just has a really bad feeling in his gut about this.
He doesn't know why, and Prime is it a silly feeling that he's sure Techno would make fun of him for if he was around. Would probably say it's the fucking weather that is making Phil's old bones act up. But Techno isn't here. And that's the issue.
"Oh- uh, hi Phil." Ranboo ducks his head when he comes inside because he's so ridiculously tall every door frame becomes a hazard for him. Even Techno's, which is already slightly higher than average.
"Hi Ranboo." Phil distractedly looks over his shoulder from where he is sitting at Techno's desk.
"Any reason you're in here and not in your own house?" Ranboo asks with a chuckle, walking over to the chests.
Phil gets up and offers him a smile. "No reason."
Just in case it really is Phil making a mountain out of a molehill, it's probably better to keep his worry to himself for now. And if it turns out he's right about something being wrong, that's the sort of information they can't have spreading around the server recklessly.
"Do you know when Technoblade will be back?" Ranboo asks.
"Soon, probably."
Phil is going to make sure of it, one way or another.