For the prompts: shock collar, misunderstanding, isolation, and sensory deprivation.
Technoblade thinks Tango probably has the wrong impression of him.
Tango seems pretty in awe of how calm Techno has been acting so far, anyway. And maybe that's part of the reason why he has so easily attached himself to Techno too. Since Techno seems to know what he's doing.
The truth is that Techno doesn't know what he's doing at all. He's not lying when he says that he's been in worse situations before, but that doesn't change how bad this one is. It doesn't bring him closer to finding a way out. And all it really does is allow him to compartmentalize the concern he should be feeling and turn it into something practical. Techno thinks about Pogtopia and frowns, the memory leaving a bitter taste behind. He can only hope things will turn out better this time.
He doesn't think counting on outside help is a good idea. Given Phil's track record, it might take him a while to even notice Techno is gone. If he does notice, what exactly is Phil meant to do about a group of people who can apparently hop in and out of closed servers with no consequence? The Hermits might have more of a shot at getting to them. From what Tango says, they have at least two admins on their side with enough practical knowledge to crack server physics. One of them being Grian, who Techno remembers is good at what he does. They definitely have the reputation of being a resourceful bunch, Techno knows that much.
Tango is resourceful too. He might not be the most combat-oriented guy Techno ever got locked up with, but he's clearly clever and scrappy enough to get by, and knows a thing or two about first aid since Tango checked his ankle for him. No sliced tendons, so they're all good on that front.
And with his knowledge on redstone, Tango could be their ticket out of here.
"They got a whole five ticks of delay on the feeder system," Tango says. Techno nods, pretending he knows what the heck that means.
He actually does grasp the very basics of redstone, but knowing how something is used and knowing how it works are two very different things. Techno forgot a lot of what he did learn when he was young and more interested in applying himself to a bunch of different fields. He's retained enough to make an automatic door here or there, because that's useful when he's making storage rooms or hidden bases. He knows what a piston is, thank you very much.
When Tango starts talking about deliberate delays and automatic sorting systems and minecart mail delivery? Yeah, that's where Techno feels like he's speaking a whole other language.
The mail system does sound pretty pog though. Techno thinks their server could hugely benefit from having a weekly newspaper delivered. Maybe then he'd stop feeling like he's missing out on ten different plot twists happening each day.
"They want less one-on-one interactions with the prisoners?" he guesses. That seems a sensical reason to put some sort of activation delay on your redstone. They've only seen the traffickers in person once or twice.
"Maybe? It also makes it easier for them to control a bunch of stuff from further away." Tango leans back against the wall. "Could be they have a central line to a hub or something." With one hand, he rubs his stomach.
"Are you hungry?" Techno asks.
The flame at the end of Tango's tail becomes brighter for a moment, in tandem with his face getting red, as he sheepishly looks down at his legs. "Nah, I'm good."
The lie isn't very convincing.
"I have some leftover food if you want it," Techno offers. The traffickers have been feeding them pretty regularly. Their threat of withholding a meal from Techno turned out to be empty since food is delivered through a dispenser system to the back of the cell where anybody can grab it. So far, no infighting has occurred. Techno thinks it's only a matter of time, but since no more than a day or two can have passed, everybody is still in shock. The other hybrids just sit around and barely talk, looking at the walls or sometimes each other, anxiously waiting for whatever will happen next. They're not going to be kept here forever. They're going to be sold.
Things could get better for them then… or they could get a whole lot worse.
"Really, it's fine," Tango repeats with a little displeased frown. Techno gets the feeling he's more upset at himself than anything.
He could tell Tango that it doesn't matter too much, he can take the food. Techno is rationing out of habit, a precaution that's automatic to him, but he doubts starvation is their biggest issue right now. And the nausea of the concussion hasn't left him too hungry, he's eaten more than his fill. He could say that he understands. Hunger is difficult for somebody who has never known resource scarcity. The Hermit server is so different from the ones Techno usually frequents. They've exchanged some stories by now. It sounds like they don't really have to worry about food on there, and no wars take place that aren't exclusively prank-based. So if this is one of the first times Tango has had to deal with not being able to eat whenever and whatever he wants, it's normal not eating will bother him a lot quicker.
But Techno doesn't really feel close enough to Tango to say those things so he just shrugs, and holds on to the food for now.
"They're probably going to feed us soon anyway," he says.
Tango stretches out his legs again. While the cell isn't cramped, it's annoying for both of them to sit still all the time. "How do you know?"
"Just a guess," Techno says. In reality, he has been more or less timing how long it takes between each food delivery.
He gets up and offers Tango a hand. Tango takes it, allowing Techno to haul him to his feet. His skin is very hot. Techno was afraid Tango could be getting a fever from the stress at first - he found out the hard way that that's a misfortune that can happen to some people - but turns out it's just a blaze hybrid thing. Their temperature is even higher than a piglin's.
"What's up?" Tango asks.
"If I give you a boost, do you think you can take a peek inside?" Techno asks, nodding at the delivery system. It is set high up in the wall, iron flaps that only open on a specific time schedule and through which the hybrid traffickers drop chunks of bread, Nether wart, and fungi. Techno doubts it's a possible escape route but they might as well get a closer look.
"Yeah, I can do that," Tango says with a nod.
Techno kneels down in the corner of the room, intertwining his fingers so Tango can use them as a step up. His hand balances a little awkwardly on Techno's shoulder, though it's not the physical proximity that seems to bother him. Techno lifts him with a grunt and leans back into the wall for balance, looking up to see Tango tap the metal. Some of the other hybrids in the cell are watching them.
"Anything?" Techno asks. He's surprised by how light Tango is. He can probably punt this nerd easily. The thought brings a slight grin to his face.
"They're also redstone powered," Tango says. Not that this is new information, they figured as much. "Huh, their lines go up into the ceiling." Tango leans forward, trying to see past the flaps.
"So?" Techno hoists him up a little higher.
"I think we're underground."
That seems odd. Techno can't remember them being led down any stairs when they arrived. But then again, they only saw the front of this place. The chutes are definitely not big enough to crawl through, not even somebody like Tango.
Right about when Techno predicted they would, the flap opens. A new load of food is dropped down, some of it being caught in Tango's palm because he's prodding at the delivery system. A few of the other captives scamper over to collect their meal, and one larger hoglin hybrid glares at them.
"Hey! You're not trying to steal all of the grub, are you?" the guy asks. He's about as tall as Techno, and almost twice as wide. Which is an achievement if anything.
"We're not," Techno says. He quickly gets Tango back onto the ground, who holds out a balled-up Nether fungus to the hoglin.
"We're just curious about how stuff works around here," Tango adds. "Promise."
The hoglin scowls, not very happy with the answer. But he grabs the food and pushes against Tango's shoulder so he can get into Techno's face. "Don't mess around with things that are going to get us all in trouble."
"More trouble than being kidnapped?" Techno asks. "Or is your grand plan to just sit around until they decide that hybrid trafficking isn't so profitable after all? They might even give us a free ride home."
"Your grand plan is going to get us killed," the hoglin hisses. "I'm not taking the fall for you two."
"Good thing we didn't ask you to."
A fist curls into the front of Techno's shirt, pulling him closer. The hoglin guy narrows his eyes, the red irises scanning Techno's face. "Listen-"
Techno doesn't actually get to find out what he's supposed to hear. The door to the room opens, and one of the hybrid traffickers steps inside. Upon seeing them, the man walks up to the bars and bangs into them with the end of their bat-like weapon.
"Break it up you two!" they yell.
Techno raises his arms. He's not the one throwing a fit here, and he'd like for their captors to know that. Tango tugs on the edge of the hoglin's shirt. "Now we'll be in trouble if you don't give it a rest."
The hoglin scowls down at him. "I can't remember asking your opinion, pipsqueak."
Techno rolls his eyes, rears his arm back, and punches the hoglin hybrid square in the jaw. He goes down like nothing, really. All talk and not much stability in the legs. It's always the same with these types.
"I told you to knock it off!" the trafficker yells again. They gesture to one of their friends, and the bars on the cage come down. Techno looks over, surprised that the trafficker would step into a cell full of prisoners alone. Seems like a dumb move.
But he realizes that was the wrong assumption to make one moment later, when his world explodes into white-hot pain.
Tango lets out an automatic sound of dismay as he watches Techno crumple against the wall. He reaches out, wanting to steady his friend, but ends up flinching as soon as he touches Techno's arm. The shock is faint when conducted through another person's body, but Tango is familiar enough with redstone to know what this is. Wha- it doesn't make sense. Redstone should only be able to shock you if you apply faulty wiring?!
"Anybody else want a taste of this?" the trafficker asks, waving some kind of remote around.
Techno is grappling at the collar around his throat, much too tight and much too hot where the metal meets skin. Tango's brain starts reeling. A shock collar fitted with redstone wiring? Conductors in the floor? It couldn't be-
Would they really do something that heartless?
Techno stops spasming, and this leads Tango to conclude the shock has worn off. He tries to check on the piglin again but is wrenched back by the elbow.
"Why doesn't it surprise me that you're the one causing trouble?" the trafficker spits, pushing Tango aside to focus solely on Techno. That's the second time this has happened today.
"I like to be consistent," Techno manages to grit out through the pain.
The trafficker clicks the button again, and Techno's head slams back against the wall when another shock runs through him. Tango's skin itches, the palm of his hand where he touched Techno burns. The feeling is familiar - you don't become a pro redstoner without having your fair share of accidents so Tango is more than acquainted - but that just makes his senses crawl with the knowledge of what Techno is suffering through. He wishes he could do something. He just doesn't know what.
All those feelings are boiling into anger and Tango doesn't think he can do anything worthwhile with that so he stomps them down hard and tries not to make things worse.
When the second shock is over, Techno doesn't move, aside from the odd compulsive twitching of his fingers where he's slumped against the wall. The trafficker turns to Tango, and Tango shifts, feeling sick to his very stomach.
"Fuck, this is what we get for leaving the valuable merchandise in with the scrap, huh." The man reaches out, and puts his hand on the back of Tango's neck. "Can't let you get hurt when these guys start to brawl it out." Tango kind of goes completely stiff and motionless at that, something too close to fear running through him. The gesture reminds him of friends throwing an arm over his shoulder, and laughter, and jokes so bad they shouldn't be funny.
Except then the guy starts dragging him towards the front of the cell, where the bars are.
"Wait, hold up now!" Tango starts to cartwheel his arms, a gesture that doesn't end up doing anything except make the trafficker pinch down hard until he's wincing in pain.
"Don't be difficult," the man says.
Tango wants to laugh in their face because, honestly, that's kind of rich coming from the guy who kidnapped them! He has some nerve telling him he's being difficult because he doesn't like to be hauled around like an inanimate object. Tango treats most armor stands with more respect than this! But even that can't quite make it out of his throat.
He's dragged from the room and for a second Tango's eyes are shooting around, taking in everything, looking for an opportunity to get away. He can just find a hole to skedaddle into and be on his way, if only things were that simple. Wishful thinking.
What happens instead is that he's thrown into a new room.
This room does not have bars. It has four walls, and an iron door that has strange material on the inside, and the entire thing is about as big as a closet. When the lock slams behind him, Tango's back is already pressed up against it. And he wouldn't be able to outstretch his arms in front of himself without touching the walls.
That's- Oh, oh that's pretty bad. Maybe now things really are panic-worthy.
He turns around, there's no handle on the inside of the door. It's not even redstone powered. For some reason that makes Tango laugh, a high-pitched and desperate chuckle that hurts his own ears. They got delayed feeder systems but no redstone on their isolation cell? Nothing for him to distract himself except the shadows afforded to him by the dim glow of his own tail. No sound, no light, nothing. Tango presses his hand against the door and even that feels too smooth.
"Hello?!"
He bangs on it, unsure why. They're definitely not going to open it.
"Come on, guys, this is-" Tango hisses and pulls his hand back. Not entirely smooth then. The door has some sharp edges. Tango feels the blood drip down his wrist, curling his other hand around the injury.
The sharp scent of gunpowder stings his nostrils.
Tango thinks he saw blood on the wall too, where Techno slammed into it. And Tango isn't even there to try and bandage it this time. That sucks. Tango hasn't known Techno for very long, but has already decided he likes him. He'd like to be helpful to him.
Maybe if he stays perfectly still, they'll let him out sooner.
Or maybe that'll allow him to tune out the sound of his own strained breathing if nothing else.