War of Hearts

(57) Just Keep Fallin'

I enjoy this chapter very much. I hope you guys too.

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Tanner Boyd, a tall man with blond buzz-cut hair. Muscular with a clear smug face whose expression alone would make you want to punch him straight out of this world. Dream had already called dibs on the guy, stating how much throttling would give him the satisfaction he never got from the last time they met.

Next up on the list, Josh Mackie, a shorter, dark-skinned man with wicked green eyes. If Dream wanted the other guy, then this one certainly belonged to Skeppy. Techno had seen the latter the other day, brandishing a newly made iron sword, humming to himself in a fashion like serial killers would in a movie. He had never thought that the tanned man could look be so creepy.

Skeppy told him that Josh was the guy with a sharp tongue. Not only did his hair resemble horns, but his tongue might as well be fork-shaped. He didn't get much intel on the guys aside from what these people are capable of. They told him that even though they want to spill, they could never afford to betray Bad's trust just like that. If Technoblade wanted to know their intentions, he's going to hear it from Bad himself.

And lastly, Shane Dean, his muffin's ex.

Ever since the last meeting, Technoblade huffed in annoyance at the lack of information he had gotten. Why were Dream and Skep so focused on the two midgets and not on the main man himself? After all, this was Bad's ex. Shouldn't all anger be directed at him?

The pink-haired man didn't understand but he guesses that he would. Soon enough, once Darryl's ready to open up.

Another punch was thrown over the sack that hung at the nearby post of his home's mini training ground. Within the palace, near at the back was an open space left purposely for gardening - in which, Technoblade never got the time to actually make. So, instead of letting the open space go to waste, he gathered a bunch of logs, stones, anything really to create a makeshift training court.

From bench presses to a track with wood logs to hop over, Techno would say he did a pretty decent job at making his place... a semi-gym.

Today, however, he had hung a sack of potatoes by a post so he can have a punching bag. With the name of three jerks in mind, he made sure to exert his energy in each punch he made, substituting the sack with those faces he has come to utterly dislike.

"What got you so pent up?" Came a voice, effectively snapping David out of his headspace to turn and smile at Darryl's expression. The brunette wore loose pants and a faded grey shirt, nursing a cup of coffee in his hand. His glasses sat crooked on his nose and his brown hair pointing in all directions. Clearly, the man had just woken up.

"Mornin' to you too," David muttered a greeting, stopping the swaying potatoes in front of him, getting to a nearby chair he had placed his tank top from earlier, putting it on to at least be decent knowing how easily Darryl gets flustered. "This for me?" he asked pointing at the cup of coffee. The other nodded snapping out of whatever trance he was in to give David the coffee.

Taking a sip, brown eyes glanced over to the brunette who opted to start walking by the makeshift punching bag, observing the way he ran his fingers over the dents, furrowed brows and analyzing green eyes. After a minute of comfortable silence, Darryl decided to speak.

"We never sparred before, have we?"

By the mention of practice fights, Techno kept his gaze on Bad, interest peaking at the direction this topic was going. Gulping down his remaining drink, he gently set it aside. "I believe we have not," a smirk graced his lips, "you got anything in mind?"

A pause, BadBoyHalo glanced back at the - probably now mashed potatoes - then shrugged. Pulling his shirt's sleeves just a little bit up then tightened the belt tie around his waist. "Let's do it." It was clear to Technoblade that there was something else on the brunette's mind, another subject but he didn't want to pry. So instead, he backed up a few steps.